Cups Galore

In our house we have a bunch of kids. Six of our own at least. Oft times they have a friend or two over on the weekends. So if you take three or four, times one or two, you get... hum... a lot.

As nature would have it they get thirsty. It seems as if every time I look in the kitchen they are getting a drink. I'm just glad that we have one of those refrigerators that have an outside water spigot. Keeps them from opening the door so often, which is good.

One of the things that I don't understand is why they can't use the same cup for the second drink of water that they used for the first drink of water. Its just water. I could understand if it were stinkin, nasty hot coco or punch, but its just plain water, filtered water at that.

My super sweet wife and I have done our best to get them to use the same cup for the day but it just doesn't seem to get through. So instead of letting them run out of cups my wife keeps buying more and more of the cheap plastic cups. This morning while doing the dishes I counted 27 in the drawer (see below), clean and ready to use. The problem is we have about twice that many waiting to be cleaned or in another cabinet. I can't even count that high. I get so tired of seeing little plastic cups everywhere.

This past Monday my wife comes home from six flags with a cup they had bought and were able to use over and over during the day. I found it and put it in the trash. We already have 435 plastic cups. We don't need another one. She looks for it, finds it in the trash, and takes it out telling me that its a good cup and how sometimes we run out and might need it. So now we we have 436. I'm fighting a loosing battle.

I know there are plenty of you out there that fight this same battle in your home, but don't have a voice. And so I lead the charge for all those who are tired of an entire dishwasher full of just little plastic cups. If we band together we can make a change.

El Toro Negro

Sleeping On Air

One of the things that a friend of mine convinced me to do a few years back was to buy a sleep number bed. You've seen them on tv. You have a pump for each side of the bed and they are great for your back.

I got to thinking about it because one of the things my wife wanted this Christmas was new sheets for our bed. Nothing like new, clean sheets. Love it.

There are two things I like to do in my bed. Um... Two things I like that I can do with my bed.

First, you wait till all the kids are in bed and it is quiet, very quiet. You get the remote and lay flat on your back with the lights out. It helps if it is as dark as you can get it. I put up black poster board on my windows so as to block out any outside moon light. Helps if you live in the country.

Once you are relaxed and your breathing is slow and regular you are ready to begin. Run your bed all the way up to 100. Depending on where you started you may or may not feel much. Doesn't matter. It will be nice and firm. Now set your bed to around 20 and quickly become still and enjoy. You will feel yourself begin to sink. Lower and lower. It will feel as if the bed is swallowing you. It is really cool. I love it. Almost as fun is then setting your bed back to 100. You can feel it exhume you. Very cool. One of the things you must try before you die. If you don't have a sleep number you can go to one of the stores and try it. It will be hard, however, to get the full effect with all the people around, and the lights. But you will get the point.

The second thing that is fun to do is to run your wife's side of the bed to the opposite end of the scale. That way she will definitely notice when she comes to bed. It will drive her crazy. The first couple of times, when she didn't have it figured out, I just laid there and giggled. Hard to not make any noise. Good times.

El Toro Negro

Legacy and Tradition- The Wind Chime

This might end up as one of those posts that you quit reading after the first few sentences. But, I'm gonna do it anyway. So if it gets so boring you want to scream, just quit. It won't hurt my feelings.

Something has been going on in our family for the last five years that actually has roots that go back for about five years before that. You see, my wife some where acquired a wind chime. Rather small, with sunflowers painted on it. For some crazy reason she thought it would be a good idea to hang it above our sink (in our old house). And there it hung for years.

I hated it from the start. It was always in the way. I was always hitting my head on it, being that I did most of the dish doing. Not that it hurt. Just bugged the heck out of me. It also seemed to be windy in our house because I was always hearing those chimes. Quite often I would use the longer cord of the clacker to wrap up the little pipes so as to keep them from making NOISE. But sooner or later my wife would come along and unwrap them, and it would start all over again.

I just couldn't understand it. Win chimes are for outside, where the wind can create gentle tones of enjoyment, not inside to plague the inhabitants of your home. Plus, it didn't even fit the decor of our house, which according to my wife and apparently all women on the planet, is an unpardonable crime against all that is Holy.

So I sought to remove this hanging thorn from my side. I decided in December of 2006 to give it to my mother for Christmas.

My mother and father had moved to the town where we live. My mother likes sunflowers and uses them in her decorating. She has lots of things sunflower, so I thought it fitting that she receive it. After all, it would go better in her house than mine.

We went to my parents house to celebrate Christmas with the family. Just before we went I took the thing down, wrapped it, and when we got to her house, put it in the pile of gifts to be opened. Now you have to understand that my wife and I had had more than one little discussion about this wind chime. It seemed to always come up, and never in a good way.

We normally eat and then open gifts, which we did on this Christmas. We all sit in a big sort of circle and each take a turn opening a gift, that way we can all see what the other person got and their reaction. My mom opens my gift, the wind chime, and likes it. My wife sees it and does one of those double takes when she realizes it is her wind chime and then of course stares me down in disbelief. She could not believe I had given her treasure away. My mom, after an explanation of what was going on, wants to give it back. I, however, insist that it was a gift, and therefore, cannot be returned to the giver, no matter how much the givers wife is aggravated with the giver giving the gift. So my mom keeps it.

Then Christmas 2007 rolls around and, as always, we eat and then open gifts. When I open one of the gifts from my mom, what do I find but the very same wind chime I had tried so hard to rid myself of the year before. It was like a bad penny. It just kept turning up. My sister thought it was so funny that I was again saddled with the one of the things that aggravated me so much. Sisters are good that way.

Christmas 2008. My revenge. This year, the wind chime actually being mine, I decided to give it to my sister. Yes, the same one who enjoyed my dismay so much the year before. This year I wrote a note to go with it and placed it on the box with "Read First" written on it. This is what it said.

Legacy and Tradition

Legacy and Tradition are things thought of and considered only in the novels that we read in our leisure, and are mostly forgotten in the present. No one gives even the slightest thought as to their creation or preservation, only embracing them when they happen by chance, and then only perpetuating them when it seems fun or in their best interest to do so.

Having come to pass for two years does not a tradition make. Therefore, I give this gift with all the feeling of a tender moment, knowing that a tradition is, perhaps, about to be born. It all depends on you. If you hold and cherish this for the coming year, and choose to pass it to the next participant, you will have chosen wisely. Creating a thing of such grandeur and magnitude that the act itself will be spoken of in reverent whispers for years to come, if not for eternity. If not, if it goes they way of all forgotten thoughts only to become a “what could have been”, you will have chosen poorly, and let die something that is more than the sum of its parts, and the sands of time will weep for the loss.

I do not make this choice lightly, the choice of who will receive this gift, for I know not if you have the character and raw determination to see this through. Life or Death. Mortality or Immortality. Legacy and Tradition or Passing gift. These are the things at stake by your choice. Knowing that I need a person to give this to who will grasp the gravity of what could be, and be willing to pay the price demanded by the tradition gods, makes what I do an enormous burden, one I have agonized over for these past twelve months. In you I place my hopes and fears, dreams and terrors. What will be? Only time will give us that answer.

Depending on what you do a tradition will either die or prosper. No pressure.

We all had a rather good laugh. I thought it to be especially funny, now that my sister had the chime. It was my turn to revel in the hilarity of the receiving of this thing by my sister. She had to admit it was funny.

Christmas 2009. My sister decides to give the wind chime to my wife. How fitting, right. She is the one that was the catalyst for this whole thing anyway. But by now we had an entirely different house we had just finished building, so even my wife thought (thank goodness) that it didn't "go". The note my sister wrote is as follows.

Legacy and Tradition

Christmas 2009

“Legacy and Tradition are things thought of and considered only in the novels that we read in our leisure, and are mostly forgotten in the present.” I was told this when I was graciously given this gift and for the last 12 months it has weighed heavy on my mind. “Should I continue this tradition?” I thought to myself? How will I ever be able to hold true to the events that may become? Will I be worthy of this benevolent experience? I truly wanted to be able to say, yes.

So, with that in mind, I am passing the Legacy and Tradition of passing this gift to you. Like the benefactor before me, I have not made this choice lightly. 12 months of careful consideration have gone into this choice. As I was told “Life or Death. Mortality or Imortality. Legacy and Tradition or passing the gift”. These are the things that went with this decision. I choose Life. I choose Mortality and I choose Legacy and Tradition! I hope you will choose wisely also for this is not something to take lightly. Keeping this gift safe and protected for 12 months is a duty fitting for someone who has the desire to keep Legacy and Tradition alive!

“Depending on what you da a tradition will either die or prosper. No pressure.”

And so it sat somewhere in the depths of my wife's three quarters of our closet for the last year. Then Christmas 2010. My wife chooses to give it to our oldest son. This is the note that went with it this year.

Legacy and Tradition

Christmas 2010

“Legacy and Tradition are the things thought of and considered only in the novels we read in our leisure, and are mostly forgotten in the present.” For the 5^th year, the tradition of the windchime has endured. For twelve long months I have agonized over who should receive this gift. After careful consideration, I came to the conclusion, that our first-born should take a larger part in our family legacy. For it is the next generation that will continue the traditions of our ancestors. The “grandeur and magnitude of this act will be spoken of in revernt whispers for years to come, if not for eternity.”

Now it is up to you. Will you have the integrity to fulfill your obligation? Remember: “Life or Death. Mortality or Immortality. Legacy and tradition or Passing Gift.” You must make your choice just as I made mine. Only time will tell if you will rise to the task at hand. Will you make us proud? Or will you make us morn for traditions that once were? “In you I place my hopes and fears, dreams and terrors.”

“Depending on what you do a tradition will either die or prosper. No pressure.”

Now we wait to see what my son will do. He seemed like he enjoyed being given the "gift", like he enjoyed being thought worthy enough to be included as a keeper of the chime. I hope so, because I would hate if it ended with him. We will know in 12 months.

El Toro Negro

A Bag of What?!!

So I pass by a couple of parks in fancy neighborhoods while I work. Its hard not to notice all the people walking, jogging, playing, and walking their dogs. I never payed much attention until recently. It occurred to me that these dog lovers have to "clean up" after their dogs. Now I know the reason. Who wants to go to the park to play ball with junior and have to keep one eye on the lookout for poop. So let me just say that I understand, not that I go to parks very often. We play ball, or whatever, in the pasture. Sure there are presents left by the cows, but it is certainly not near as yucky as dog stuff. I mean, who hasn't enjoyed a good cow patty fight? Why, just the other day.....

I just had to laugh to myself while watching the 30 something with her fancy jogging suit and $100 pair of walking shoes, and her little plastic baggie. Following her "baby" around just waiting for him to go big. I thought we were the master, right? "Come on Fido, please go so I can pick it up and make it to the spa by one."

I wonder if there is a community class or homeowners association mandatory meeting that teaches people how to properly pick up poo? Place hand into bag, all the way to the bottom. Grab poo with bagged hand. With the other hand, invert bag over poo hand. Place poo bag in approved receptacle. Knowing todays society there are probably special types of bags. You sure can't use a Wal-Mart bag. They sometimes have holes in them anyway. I'll bet, before long, there will be recyclable poo bags. Don't want too much plastic in the landfill.

Someday when I have nothing to do I am going to get into my best sweat pants and go to the nicest park I can find. I'm going to pretend to be exercising or something. I want to just happen to bump into one of these bag people just so I can work into the conversation the question, "So whatcha got in the bag?" I might need a hidden camera to capture the look. I just hope I can do it without laughing. Who would want to answer, "A bag of poo."?

I don't know. It just strikes me as kinda funny. The whole idea. And after the walk in the park they load their pet into their Mercedes SUV and go back home. Just funny.

El toro Negro

The Perfect Man Gift!

I am helping one of my sons sell wallets he makes. They are made entirely of duct tape, except for the clear part for your license. It is made of packing tape. As you can see there are many colors and he can customize them too.

They have a big pocket the length of the wallet for money. The inside left has three pockets for your credit cards. The inside right has a clear pocket as well as a "hidden" pocket behind that.

$20 get a wallet and $25 get one that is customized. For $5 he will ship it anywhere in the continental US.

Bath Balls

All of the human race has at least one thing in common. Nature demands it, and thank goodness we were able to through out the corn cobs due to the invention of toilet paper. TP. We all use it. Now don't get scared. This won't get gross or nasty.

Over the past several years it has been interesting to see the way certain things have been renamed, for whatever reason. You can't buy soap any more. Its body wash. TP, I thought, had been changed to toilet tissue. I must have missed the latest transition.

My wife came home from the super, mega, shop-a-torium today with toilet paper only it wasn't toilet paper. It is now bath tissue. Still the same soft, two ply, stuff you use to..... well, you know. Just now it has a new name.

I have to admit I was a bit confused at first. I mean, everyone knows what to do with toilet paper, or toilet tissue. That night during my bath, I had the hardest time keeping the bath tissue from falling apart. The soap kept falling through the tissue. Trying to wash my face with it was a nightmare. My fingers kept poking through. Let me tell you, two ply isn't enough. I had to make a big mat of the stuff to get the job done.

And then there is the clean up. There must have been a million little balls of bath tissue floating around in the water. You couldn't stand up without being covered in these little slimy balls of bath tissue. I had to get the window squeegee to get it all off. And let me tell you. Those balls will not go through the drainer.

I don't get it. Its bath tissue. Used for your bath. Toilet paper/tissue works great for its stated purpose, why can't bath tissue. I wanted to return it for a refund, but my wife said they would not accept a walmart bag full of wet bath tissue. I feel like I have been cheated.

Clean that Elbow!

I am not that old, but things seem to have changed since I was a kid.

I was taught to cover my mouth when I coughed or sneezed. Sounds fine, right. Well, for the last million years I think it was. But now, we know better. Now we have to cough into our elbow. I know you have seen all these little kids who cough into their elbows. I see it at the school all the time. To me, it looks really stupid.

I guess I can understand the stated reason. You know, to keep gems off your hands and thus keep them from spreading. Me, I think this germ phobia is a bit blown out of hand. You see Purell everywhere. Every soccer mom is loaded with the stuff. Whipping it out at the slightest hint of a little dirt. Heck, even at the Wal Mart you have these wipes that are soaked with Purell to clean the cart handle.

Just the other day on the Wall Street Journal radio show they had a report that stated that due to the excessive use of antibacterial soaps and cleansers, a bacteria in the human stomach that processes fats has been eliminated. At least we have something to blame our over obesity on.

Just the other day I ran into a Hobby Snobby store to get something for the wife. (I hate that store.) There was a woman in there with a kid about four years old. She was the typical thirty something with one point four kids, a suburban house, a Starbucks in her hand, a toe ring, a gym membership, a shirt two sizes too small for her, the whole nine yards.

Well, her kid sneezes, correctly I might add, into his elbow. Obviously he had been taught well. What got me was what the mom did. She dove into her LV purse and located the cure all. This is not what surprised me. She proceeded to squirt a dob into the elbow of this kid and clean his elbow pit. OMG. You have got to be kidding me. Afterwards, she strutted around like she had just saved the world. And we wonder why we can't build a resistance to germs.

What is this world coming to?

El Toro Negro