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Tag Archives: panic

I Take It Back: A Note To My Younger Self.

9 Aug

August 9, 2016

A few days ago I came across a post I wrote back in 2011. It is really short, please read it before I go on.

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April 20, 2011

Dr. Zaius’ Parenting Tips

Let me say upfront that I am not a parent so feel free to disregard my advice.

I saw this product in a catalogue today.

OK, I get that kids need to be kept safe from danger, like the calm shallow water in the first pic and the short shrubs in the second, but when you keep your kids in a cage like the one Taylor was kept in I can only say this:


 

Back to 2016. And I have to ask, what the hell was I thinking????

About a year ago, my brother, Allan Keyes, fathered two of the most adorable kids ever to grace the Earth. I know what you are thinking. Allan Keyes? A father? I wasn’t sure he had enough human DNA to procreate with a human being. Well he does and he did, and against all odds his kids are the most cute and intelligent children you could ever dream of. And they better be because when they grow up they’ll have Uncle Mr. Blog to support.

Seeing them grow and get old enough to toddle around and get into everything and everywhere, I can not only appreciate and support those gates, I will personally endorse them. Keyes has ones just like them and they are invaluable. Yes, I still think kids should be able to roam around and explore (under supervision!) but my adorable little munchkins? Damn straight I am keeping them away from those “short shrubs and shallow water.” These kids aren’t getting within 100 feet of a pointy leaf until they are 21 if I have anything to do about it. I panic when I see a scratch on one of their fingers, and little kids get scratches and boo boos all the time. And they are going to wander near a lake? I say not only put them in that cage, raise the gates another ten feet, they’re too short. If I, as an uncle, panic, I can only imagine how their parents must feel.

Plus those things make great octagons for Kiddie Fight Club (as Keyes himself pointed out.)

Anyway, I’m not too big to admit I was wrong. But don’t go too far. Not everything you see in Planet of The Apes can be adapted for parenting. 

pota diaper

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“S” is for Subaru Part 2

7 Jun

June 7, 2012

 In part 1 I had test driven a Subaru through a monsoon and was misdirected by a confused old man before somehow finding my way back to the dealership. If it were not for a guy who spoke no English but had fantastic hand signals I might be in the bottom of Long Island sound right now.

Here’s the kicker. After two hours of discussion with the owner of dealership (and more on this character later) she went to her computer and looked up the available Subaru stock in the Northeast. Nada. In fact, there were no cars available with the options I wanted in the country. Yes, the entire country. This led to a pointless and irrelevant discourse by her on the value of the yen. Bottom line, how long would I have to wait for the car? Two to three months.

Not good.

And that’s how Part 2 opens.

I returned to the dealership the next day. Even though the Impreza I wanted was apparently not for sale in this time stream they did have a Legacy in stock that pretty much matched my desire. (Yes, the Legacy is more expensive, conspiracy theorists. Plus this is the Legacy P with a ton of upgrades.) It had more or less everything I wanted with the exception of the navigation system, which turned out aright because to get the nav system you also have to purchase a moon roof and that cost an arm and a leg and a thorax. Plus I planned to (and did) buy a GPS from Best Buy a fraction of the price.

The day was almost, but not quite, as overcast, nasty, and rainy as the day before. The rain was only coming down in intermittent buckets whereas yesterday it was coming down in constant swimming pools. But at least this time I had a chance of leaving with a car.

The owner of the dealership is a woman named Lenore. (That is not her real name. Trust me, this is not a Jedi mind trick where I say her name is not Lenore but it really is Lenore, her name really is not Lenore.) When I was there the day before she was having trouble with her computer and I had to send an email for her. So technology is not her friend. Today I walked in and as soon as I was within firing range she tossed me a set of keys, told me the car was around the corner in her lot, and that I should lock up when I was done.

Read that back, I’ll wait.

Yes, she gave me the keys to her entire lot with about 300 cars in it and was told to lock up when I was done.

My Dear Readers, know by this narrative that you may trust me with your money, your valuables, your hot wives, your blonde college cheerleader daughters, the pin number to your stock portfolio, stewardship over your living will, etc., because anyone else left alone in a lot with hundreds of new cars and no surveillance cameras, no witnesses, or no scruples, might have gotten up to some shenanigans.

Not me. 

I went to the lot and, avoiding temptation, went right to my car. This was no test drive demo, this was the actual car I would be buying. I checked it out from top to bottom. I looked under the hood and pretended I knew what I was looking at; I peeked in the backseat, bent down to look at the tailpipe, and even kicked the tires. I have no clue what the point of that is unless it is to see if kicking a tire too hard can hurt your toe, which I found out it can. Then I looked at the odometer and fainted. The car had 7 miles on it. I’ve never owned a car with less than 70,000. This was N-E-W. In fact, my last car hit 70,000 twice, once in normal use and a second 70,000 on a second engine. So I tend to driver cars into the ground.

I got into the car and first had to familiarize myself with the steering wheel, which looked like I might need some NASA training to understand. Cruise control, the radio, Bluetooth for my phone, microwave oven- it can all be controlled from the wheel. I then cruised the car out of the lot, where I stopped, got out, and locked up. It was time for the test drive and this time I was determined not to repeat my previous mistake. That tine I went right, this time I went left, down a long, straight, street with not a single curve in sight. There would be no Outer Limits, parallel dimension nuttiness this time. I drove straight for five or six blocks, turned around and, aside from getting stuck at a railroad crossing, made it back without incident. I know it doesn’t sound like much of a test drive but trust me, I drove like a madman. And as soon as a single splatter of rain hit the windshield that was it, test drive over.

I’m sure anyone watching on the street would have laughed at me but as the day before there was no one. Where does everyone hide all day in Glen Cove?

I went back to the lot, unlocked it, put the car back, locked up, and went back to the dealer. And that’s where the fun starts.

TO BE CONTINUED

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