Terrified, the five year old held tight to his fathers hand, where normally he would have pried to get it free and show his stout independence. "Don't worry, I'll be here." Said the father, almost hating that this had to happen but knowing that it did. "Okay.....Dad? what do they send kids to jail for?"
a little supressed giggle from the father was there to hide the little breaking of his heart. "Not forgetting to pay for batteries, that's for sure. Don't worry Connor, people make mistakes, they will understand".(And if they don't understand, they will most assuredly die horrible deaths.)
"mrsmdnfnfmdmdfnsndnmdnfmdnbatteries sorry"he said to the back side of the returns clerk. "Connor, sorry, but you have to be sure he is listening first".
The Clerk looked down. Thank God! He had more personality than a steel rusted post. He smiled brightly and squated to the boys level. Far enough back that he wasn't any more threatening than any other adult is to any other five year old.
"Try again" Dad encouraged.
*sigh* "I'm sorry I forgot to pay for these c size batteries becuase I got so excited".
For one five year old, time stopped. For the rest of us, there was not the slightest pause..
"That's okay," (and he sounded like he meant it.)"Thank you very much for your honesty"!
Receipt in hand, father and son walked together out to get a smoothie. Hands still clasped tight, now in brotherhood
The weight was lifted.
It was an honest mistake on his part. Of that I am one hundred percent sure. But just the same, as we got out of the truck to go into Arby's for a pretend healthy version of fast food, Connor sat the pack of "C" size Duracells next to him on the car seat.
I vaguely remembered the door alarm at Home Depot whining at me as I exited, but that has a four out of five probability with no foul play on a regular day and my ears have become somewhat deaf to it's accusatory tones unless they are accompanied by a dull "Hey, excuse me sir?....."
The boys had been more than a little well behaved as we jogged through the sharp implements of destruction aisle, and had not walked backwards even once into an unsuspecting guy in an orange vest, so when Connor asked if we could buy some batteries for his new combat ready apache death squad terrorist insurgent Bush chopper, I cheerfully agreed without even the usual, "Well son, do you have enough in your piggy bank to pay for those"?
A not so pleasant wait behind a lady who had far more electrical fittings than she could ever know what to do with, was starting to grate on everyone's nerves. The boys were running out of discipline, and I was running out of patience. I was about to start threatening the final card in my deck of control (Well, maybe we WON'T be going to Arby's after all) When at last the nice man took my plumbing parts and charged me a couple hundred dollars for the favor.
So the thought never crossed my mind.
Now, we prepare for the grand challenge. Tomorrow, we must return to Home Depot. Unopened batteries in hand, and Soulful expression of fearful apology in eyes. "But Dad, I didn't remember that we had to pay for them".
"I know Son, it was an accident. I forgot that you had them too".
"Then can you just bring them back without me"?
"Sorry big guy, we both need to go. Even though it was an accident, we were in the wrong, so we both have to make it right".
"oh"
..
..
..
"Dad'? "What if they don't believe me that it was an accident'?
(The faintest hint of evil begged me to tell him that we would both go away to prison for a very long time. I firmly and silently shoved my size 13 boot up evil's ass and sent it away to sulk till the next time I got angry with a fast food clerk through a bad microphone connection)
"It's okay son. They'll be surprised that we came back at all."
"then.....why do we have to go"?
(oh child. One Day You Will Know)
"Because, Connor it's the right thing to do. And when ever we can, we need to do the right thing".
"okay Dad, but I'll just leave them in the car for you in case you decide to do the right thing without me".
(Not a chance my love. Not a chance)
For the most part, I love my Day Job. The pay sucks (but who doesn’t feel that way) but the varied work environment and the combination of a flexible schedule and a complex mix of problems from shoveling 9 cubic yards of sand to exploring the “root of the problem” to identifying and correcting the poor treatment of our computer systems. In the mean time, I get to drive up and down the Highways and Byways of the peninsula and pontificate on life and the next film or stage job. Still, if I could find a company that would pay me market value for the same job description……
And there in lies the Rub. If I do a search under Facilities, I find that the median pay for a position at a company of equal size is 75,000.00 in California. Adjusting for the “Current Economy, that might really equal more like 60,000. Still, that number is provided as a base salary number, benefits could vary it greatly. On the other hand, the flexibility of my current position is hard to beat. I have basic control over my hours, can adjust for kid school functions, and the occasional commercial shoot, and can even sometimes manage to make the noon class at Karate. Taking on a true 9-5 could free up our bill situation, but clamp down on my freedom of expression.
Finally, I guess I also still find enough about these guys to just not want to leave if I can help it. Sometimes Money Costs Too Much. Here, I am appreciated, trusted, and comfortable. And of course the fact that they just covered my transportation costs as an added perk is a mighty fine plus.
(Side note---for those one or two of you who are becoming addicted to my ramblings (hopefully I am paying you well enough yes?) I will be filming this weekend so it may be Monday before I post again)
***isn’t He cute in his Vanity?****
Beth, the Devine help her, could not convince me, and at last learned to accept me for the misspelling twit that I am. But other sources came from other angels, and in their wisdom found a way to prevail.
I have, starting with the last two entries, begun to spell check my work. Almost all misspellings here after, will be intentional.
I'm drawing the line at grammar though, so yea of more educated readership, kindly continue to patiently over look my fragments and scatterings of colons and commas. hey, A guys gotta have style......right? Okay it's a cheap excuse for sloppy writing, but you love me anyway....right?
I have always been vocal. If there are actual strangers who read this Blog, they should be informed that the last sentence received a great big "Duh" from those reading that do know me. Even my Orthodontist informed me that the reason I needed braces was that my mouth was too big for my teeth.
The result is that I will begin opening my mouth at about the same time that my brain decides to formulate an answer to any given question. Likewise, there is always an answer to any question. Call it the scientist in me, but I hate the answer: "I don't know". It helps that I was raised by a scientist.
But there is a downside to this tendency to be first to speak and loudest. IE, I have enemies. Enemies I didn't even know disliked me, and could not for the life of me tell you what I said or when I said the horrible thing that made them realize I was the scourge of the earth.
I once lost a part in a play; thought I had done reasonably well at the audition, and then found out later that someone involved in the process had been horribly offended by something I said at the audition. I racked my brain, going over and over the day and could think of nothing.
Then there was the time I mortally offended a fellow cast member by asking what I thought was a reasonable question in response to what someone else had said. The word I was asking about is horrible enough to have made her not speak to me nor even look at me for three weeks. Now, I DID NOT use said word in reference to her myself, I was clarifying what someone else said. But there I went with my big mouth. It only took a few minutes for my brain to catch up that time. Unfortunate that my foot knows a faster route to my mouth than my brain.
Still and all, I like it this way. You always know what I think, and how I feel about you. Whoever you are. What degree of tact I use in describing my feelings is something I have learned to improve on. Sign of aging I guess. But I would be the first to get kicked off survivor, have no hope in the political world, and would get chewed up and spit out down Hollywood way at the first social event I worked my way into.
Most of all, I like it because it keeps me honest. In my childhood, I lied so much that even I started to believe my version of the truth. This way, I speak the truth before that little demon and angel pair get up on my shoulders and start debating about which way to say it. So if I should offend you, slap me, take my left shoe off and hand it too me gently. My brain is still looking for the shortcut.
I have never had a more productive rehearsal. And yet, we almost forgot to actually rehearse.
Odd? Not really. The show, Ambassadors Day, has been in the filming stage of production for about a month now, and yet, beyond the original audition, I had yet to read and interact with the only other actor on screen. Not that that is uncommon. In fact, in many cases, even the most intimate scenes you see on TV and the Big Screen are often shot without the actors ever being on set at the same time. One of my favorite examples is that in Highlander, Sean Connery was only on the set for 2 days and many of the shots you see of his character are not even him!
But I digress.
What was I talking about? Oh ....yeah
So I pick up our heart and soul director from his burrow in San Jose and we cruise up to San Bruno Chatting about character histories and the benefits of vitamin supplements and how I got back into acting at the hands of an old curmudgeon of a director who took me to Ireland and so much further. Then we arrive at Other Actor's Home.
Well appointed dwelling that furthers my belief that this guy is really me in an alternate universe. The books on the Wall of Books are familiar to the touch and even placed subtly near other books that in just those places Say Something without intentionally doing so.
A show of hands now please....
How many of you are familiar with Bloom County?
Okay, that’s more than I expected. But how many of you had intimate relations with Bloom County?
That's more like it.
Yet at the mere note of mention, The Wife and I have a stack of Berkley Breathed between us and are laughing with half syllables of a frame yet to escape our lips.
Sorry, I think I'm digressing again.....
Yup
Mid-way through dinner, conversation rounds it's way through more topics than a digressing ADD Blog writer until it sidles through the clinking china to the somewhat obscure topic of a film we happen to all be working on. Himself starts to theorize on his character history and then asks me a question. The lightest flicker of glint in his eye sends a leather gauntlet at 70 mph in my direction. Caught squarely on the jaw, I have no choice but to fade away and leave my body to the whims of a simpler man whose distain for this sort of childish attitude can only be held back by his understanding that when you are raised in an overcrowded city without the enlightenment of true faith, you must be expected to behave so basely.
We let our characters from the film chat with the director for a bit and the energy was building, THIS IS WHY I LOVE THE JOB. Until at last, defeated, Charles could not help but leap back into body and make a crass sarcastic remark that got the easy laugh but broke the moment. No harm no foul. We finished with a dessert that left me trying hard not to stare too hard at the Wife as she erased traces of cream and Strawberry from her lips.
So, great rehearsal..... Oh, the script, yeah...I guess we could do that...
We read through the lines a few times, found moments and nuances that weren’t going anywhere tonight but were little landmines planted on the other actors field. They're waiting now. Full of energy, for the right trip of a switch.....
Eye-toy. God I wish I had a playstation.....shortly after a wonderful meal and a few glasses of red and another of white, we retire to the living room, where I am assaulted by evil Chinese mini-combat specialists. I find that my Songahm Style Taekwondo is no match for the Wife's unbeatable Laverne &Shirley Slap fight style in the kicking of eye-toy china-man Butt.
The Director suggests I try a windmill approach.....
Disastrous.
As we are picking bits of glass out of the carpet and hailing the remarkable trick of using half a potato to unscrew broken bulbs from swinging chandeliers I think to myself.
Coffee might be good right about now.
The Drive home is a delight to the senses as I tell the Director The Story. It is not my favorite gem that I save for parties and really long drives, but it is the one most fascinating to the listener and will one day likely appear in some form or other here on the blog, or in my future best selling book.
I drop him off and head home.
It’s good to say what I think. Despite the price I pay at times. But now, I've digressed so much that I never did get around to explaining the title on this entry.
Life is funny that way.
Clancy Brown, who played the sinister "Kurgan" in the original Highlander, is now the voice of Mr. Krabbs on Sponge Bob Square Pants.
It is an Honor to be surfing the web, pick up a thread on a blog, follow it to somewhere else, find mention of a mutual interest, then find myself referenced in a positive light, and lastly, to find a truly flattering photo of myself floating in the etherworld.
I love tech.
And now, new with web power mobility!
The most recent improvement to the Blogable universe,- pocket blog ! The real trick will be to see if my pocket PC can keep up with my transcribing. At the same time, if I make one or two entries a week using this, I will greatly improve my ppp (pocket PC penmanship. I am coming to you live this evening from the bedroom . Next to me lies my wife, and at my feet; my cat.
The tool of my trade? A Verizon i700.
This multifunction gadget has replaced the IBM ThinkPad that used to lug from job site to job site. 10 lbs. of electronic wires that took 10 minutes to start up and do a quick check of email. It also replaces a 400 dollar camera and a 100 dollar cellular phone. As with any gadget , it is only as useful as it is used, but I find it at least as handy as the items it replaces
Goodnight for now
cfm
No "Deep Thoughts" here, just an add for a web service that I think is interesting. I happen to know the couple starting the service and they need folks to register with the site to prove they have enough interest to get funding. Check out the site, and register if it appeals to you.
The site is still in major development, so all they are asking for is a username and password set up to show that this is the sort of thing that you WOULD do if they complete the site. Personally, I like it. I rarely pass on anything beyond the odd 80's music trivia survey here and there, but when I do, it means I endorse it for it's face value.
Deep Meaningful blog entries to follow later...
Charles
Friday night I will be Performing at the Irish Social Club as part of a fund raiser for The Mostly Irish Theatre Company. If I had not spent the last two hours putting together the stuff for the show, I would say alot more here about TMITCO and how you the public can help support us the non-profit. When the web site goes up, I'll post that. for now. I will sleep.
Right here. With my face on the keeboard.
g'night
"So what now" I said with a hesitant look of confusion. The Master sat across the wooden table from me with a patient look in his eyes. His ability to walk me through the paces of a beginner has stretched his limits, yet still, he goes over the form again. I take another sip from my cold cup of coffee and try not to let the bug by the hanging lamp distract me as he covers the preccess one more time.
"Now its the battle phase. You can place your monsters in defensive position, face down on the battle feild or face up to attack."
"Not that card. Thats not a monster card, its a spell/trap card"
"that one is a Feild card, but it only effects Fire dragon type monsters so don't put it down becuase I have blue-eyes-white-dragon, and you don't have any dragon types at all right now" His brow furrows in a way that reminds me vaguely of my father. Where did he learn that from?
"okay, got it. I want to attack with this guy"
"DAAAD, that s a level six type feind! you can't summon him unless you pay tribute with two lesser cards worth at least that many level points....."
"Oh, look at that! Sorry son, 8:00. time to get ready for bed. Let's try again tommorrow."
"Okay dad, but your gettin the hang of it."
"Thanks Son."
At least he's graceful in his victory. My five year old trounced me six games in a row at Quiddich World Cup earlier. He was almost grounded for life for gloating. Someone forgot to tell the boys that sometimes Dad is a sore loser. But in the end, it's just a game.
I'd go into more detail, but now that everyone else has gone to bed, I have to go.....ummm, clean up the game room. Theres a couple of rule books somewhere in there......
nice juicy tender Pork Chops for dinner.
Ten minutes of prep time, then off to soccer practice she went.
Dinner at an hour that still leaves time for Baths and Stories and bed when chldren should go.
I Love My New Crock Pot.
Got a crock pot recipe? I want it! send it to cmckeithan@cclc.com.
march 31 at 3:17pm duration 3 minutes 2 seconds
{car noises and traffic in background}
B: everyday its not as good for it...people need a little water every day but plants are different.
S: which is all the better.....you spray in the air the day before......
B: so our lawn is getting water from other peoplesbattley watered lawns water. huraah!
****
S: see - oh cops...
C: Where?
S: very good.... fireman
***
S: the cops were in there uniforms and the fireman hada little placard on his his car that said fire fighters and he looked at him and he had the fire fighter mustach...
C: I looked every where and
S: He wasnt wereing his suit, he was wereing a t shirt and
******
foutys and shaved with***he had a handle bar slash goatie slash baseball cap. is not a... and with a fire metal is NOT a fireman
{getting out of car}
S: any fireman...I don't know.....
{door opens}
{door closes}
S: half way up....okay
{second car door closes}
{walking}
S: are you a little*****
{screen door opening.}
{noise invornment changes}
S: How many do you want?
B: I have no idea
S: I'm ahving merf***** it does matter to me
***
***
S: 20 second difference
{light pounding sound}
Yep. Missspelled on purpose. I thinks it's an artsy way of continuing down my path of non-conformity. This time around the spot light goes to my precious and rare freind Beth. Her name is actually Lisabeth, and if you know me then you know it took several years to get just the first part right. I usually avoid last-naming on the Web unless it's my and myself cuase we wouldn't be here if we didn't want to be out there. But lets just say her last name took twice s long to get right and if she's reading this she knows that if she picked up the phone and called me right now I would have a 70 % failure at spelling it correctly even after years and years of inner circle freindship.
Beth is one of those people at parties that if you wern't paying attention, you might not have seen she was there. And you would have paid dearly for the loss. She is not like me in the desire to be sure that EVERYONE IS LOOKING AT ME. She likewise is not quick to hide behind the phicas plant and hope to drink her beverage in peace. She watchs. She thinks. She Perceives. She is equally comfortable discussing the social nuances of Victorian era politics and the choice of music tracks for Night Dreams
. In short: She Rocks.
I have the dubious honor of having been through two terms in the California correctional system, many years ago. There were few people whom I looked forward to getting mail from durring that time. yet those who were committed to my ceribral salvation were steadfast in their loyalty. Her Husband trumps all in consitant loyalty, but Beth would have given him a run for his money if she had but known me prior to my first downfall.
Other inmates would glance at the envelope and give the usual line of questoining.
"family?"
no, a freind
"ol' lady"?
not really no
"got any spread shots"?
.....no. (as in feck off you twit)
the spidery freehand scipt was quiet a camofluage for the depth and insight within. page after page of sanity holding my shaky hand and making no demands that I remain with the rest of the universe, but giving me a light at the end of the tunnel that did not give false hope. Hers was no searchlight blinding the tunnel walker to the tons of steel train barreling down behind it. Her light was one of soft amber incandecence. A forty watt lamp in a wall papered Americana livingroom that gave a softening glow to the nicknacks and heirlooms around it. It spoke of acceptance and of undemanding freindship.
She was one of the grooms-man in my wedding. Not becuase I could not find enough men to match my fiance's list of bridesmaids, but becuase if I could have only two people to stand by me, She would have been just to the right of the best man. (Proof of their excellent taste and intelligence, my best man later married that groomsman)
And so we get back to my misspelled concept of freindship. Everyone will tell you they have friends. Best friends, girlfriends,boyfriends, just-friends, hommies, buds, pals. and on it goes.
I have some of those, but mostly, I have people that I like and enjoy the company of , and then I have freinds. You can argue with real freinds. Debates are for pussies. I mean real, Anger driven shocked and insulted, realm altering fights. And they are still Freinds. Becuase they love you. And becuase you love them. Freindship surrives that kind of thing.
If I want applause, I go to my friends.If I want an ohonest assesment of the situation, I go to people like Beth. She respects herself enough to be honest, and respects me enough to tell it like it is.
Frankly I am suprised that I started this blog before she broke into the blogging concept. for a taste -> http://www.livejournal.com/users/kid_lit_fan/
I hope that if you are reading this. you too have freinds.
She's outta control. Off the deep end Doc....
Last weekend we saw her once when she came out for a bag of chips and a case of mountain dew. What do we do?!
Sorry son, but the only way to deal with these extreme cases is to cut the cord, and we may not get her back even then, once the blog universe takes you.....sometimes there's just no turning back.
So in honor of my freind, though tired and promising to be in bed with the lights off before 2AM tonight. I make this pledge. "If there is a computer in my reach, from this day forth, I shall blog every day that I can until Sanity returns to her.
cfm
