edshots

I've run into the daughter of the woman I was married to in the past week. I still sorta think of her of my stepdaughter, but now that her mom and I have separated, I'm not sure of the officaial term that covers her "status."

She has a six week old daughter. The baby is beautiful. Even more than most babies (although that may be just my soak in the pleasure attitude). I was running around the first time we ran across each other and like an idiot I forgot to ask the baby's name. The second time I ran into her I did remember to ask. I told the new mom to let me know if there was anything I could do to help out and let me know how things were.

The mixed feelings come in that I'm not really attached to the new mom anymore. When I was married to her mom and she lived with us we got along mostly well, although we were too alike to get along great. As she was getting older, and less under her mom's and my control, that relationship didn't get any better. So now, I'm a stepgrandpa, sorta removed. I am as happy as heck that the baby is well and has all the fingers and toes. But I feel a bit more like I should do something special since this is my stepdaughter's kid even though the mom and I split up. I guess I'll try to figure out the proper balance of pride and happiness, but I'm not sure where that is.

I didn't realize it but that first encounter affected me more than I thought it would. The next day I was in as good of mood as a bear with a bug up his arse. I didnt even realize that until my boss asked me why I was being so miserable. And when I act like that, there is something up.

I did drop a line to the estranged to congratulate her. I wasn't sure if that was proper or not but figured it was. She sent a note back saying thanks. That's good.

It's pretty nice outside right now. The sun is shining and the temperature is in the nice range. Last night that wasn't the case. Last night was wet and chilly. And I had a tour.

Wearing wool on a chilly night is not a bad thing to do. It keeps you warm and blocks out most of the weather. However, it is not waterproof. The wool will bounce off some of the water for a while. But soon it becomes wet. And the water then begins to soak into the clothes. I stood for the better part of three hours outside last night between selling tickets and doing the walk. It drizzled the entire time. Some light, some heavy, but all drizzle. By the end of the tour I think that I had gained about ten to fifteen pounds. All of it water weight. When I stopped by for my post walk libation, I took my frock coat off and was suddenly light again. I threw the coat over the back of the stool to wait for me. When I got up later, there was a puddle of water beneath my stool about two-and-a-half feet around. The coat was still soaked and it had dropped all that water.

The tour itself seemed to go okay, two families with lots of kids, so I got to keep the stories light. Seeing as the weather was depressing, it was probably a good idea as well. The group seemed to like the stories which is always a good deal. Now today I have off and will get to enjoy an evening of rest. Which I deserve. I don't care what anyone else says.

It's sort of crazy here lately at C&Y, and my other jobs have picked up the pace as well. That's good in that I'm surely not bored, and it's keeping me off the streets at night. The bad part is that I haven't really had time to have too much fun of any type over the past two weeks.

Just this past weeks I've got to deal with a family letting their 15 year old daughter go running off to Baltimore to spend the night at her boyfriend's, a mother who would have a hard time beating a box of rocks in a battle of wits with her two children-both under five, A young girl who was sexually abused by her uncle, a four month old baby who had unexplained injuries and some other stuff. Later I get to deal with a 5 year old boy who was sexually assaulted by his step-brother. Yoi and double yoi!

Granted it has been more nutsy than usual. But there have been times where it hasn't been too crazy or the calls too severe. The call because a mom doesn't like the way the baby sitter talks to the kids (Don't take your kid there mom), a call about a dad making the kid say bad things about the mother (Tell dad to knock it off or he doesn't get vistation) and my favorite, which came just an hour ago, a lady saw a mother (who she didn't know) yelling at a kid (who she didn't know) about something (which she didnn't know). Oh and by the way, they drove off in an off red car (to ssomeplace she didn't know). I'll get right on that ma'am. Riiiiight.

Some folks don't understand why we're here. Others don't understand the limitations that are placed on us by the laws. It's annoying that the same people that bitch and moan about how we come into families and cause problems are the same ones who bitch and moan when we can't do anything. Or they complain that they knew something was going to happen to that poor child they just knew it. Oh, no, we never called CYS about the family. that would be impolite.

As a CPS worker I will never tell a parent that it's okay to hit a kid. While I recognize that sometimes it is an effective means of changing behavior it is not a good long term strategy. It is specially un-effective after a kid hits about seven or eight.

I guess that's why I am specially annoyed by the parent of a teen who thinks that beating the snot out of the kid is really going to matter. What it really is going to teach the kid id that A) if I get caught I can deal with the repercussions and B) don't get caught.

I don't mind physical discipline. I mind ineffective physical discipline.

Last evening after doing some running around, I stopped at Blockbuster. As a strolled through the stacks, I found two things. One was that Blockbuster, who it seems to have every movie ever made and then some, does not have the movie Meatballs with Bill Murray. I was majorly bummed. I had a couple things go on in the past few days that just kept brining that movie to mind and really was hoping to see it for the first time in probably a decade, if not two.

The second was that they did have Casablanca. I love this movie. And for what ever reason I decided that if I couldn't have Meatballs, I would have Casablanca. (Yes I know that the two are only about ten billion miles apart in everything. Don't ask me how the logic worked here, I have no idea. It seemed logical at the moment. Casablanca it would be.) So I went home and watched it again.

Casablanca is the best movie ever made. Now I know there's some people out there who would point to Citizen Kane or Gone with the Wind or Dukes of Hazzard or some other movie and say that it is, but I'll never be convinced. The movie has intrigue, it has action, romance, war, corruption, Nazis, comedy, and just about anything else that a movie should have.
It has a great star in Bogart, playing the man so kicked in the groin by life he tries to become cynical, but just can't bring himself to so it. It has Bergman, playing the woman torn between two great loves of her life, each of whom she at one time thought was lost forever. Paul Henried plays Lazlow, fearing for the safety of his wife and for the safety of the world. The supporting cast including Clause Raines, who if not for Bogart's stellar performance may have stolen the movie. The lines of being shocked, shocked I tell you at gambling as the barman comes up with his winnings and of being only a poor, corrupt official, both make you smile and sigh that there are cops like that around still.
And the Love Story. Bogart torn between his love and what's right. Bergman between the two men and Henried torn between his need for his wife and the need of fighting the Nazis. And it all comes down to Bogart's decision in the end.
Even though I've seen in dozens of times, the scene on the runway always puts a lump in my throat. Part of me wants to tell Bogie to take her with him, not let Lazlow have her. As she walks away, I feel the emptiness that Rick feels as he sees the last of Ilsa. When Major Strausser shows up I feel the anger leave me as the Nazi gets his. And I still cheer when Louie says, "Round up the usual suspects."

I think part of the reason I like this movie so much is that it is a well done, well written and directed movie. I think part of it is the allure of being the American ex-pat in an exotic locale. I think part of it is that love can win out. Even if it means letting it go. Bogie was right when he said that they'll always have Paris. They didn't until Casablanca. And at last all was right again.

And we'll always have Casablanca.

The latest news on the gay marriage fight comes from Canada. Two men have decided to get married. The good news is that they have known each other for years, they have been drinking buddies, and they get along well. They are also both heterosexual.

That's right, straight. As in not gay.

They both admit that the only reason that they are getting married is for the tax and other government benefits that come from being married.

Those who wanted the ability to marry without respect to the historic value and meaning of marriage are crying foul. Serves them right.

I just hope that this will open the eyes of some of those in America about the laws of unintended consequences when it comes to this subject here. Some how I doubt it.

The NCAA, the "guardians" of college athletics, has decided that it will no longer permit teams with Native American (or as they used to be called:Indian) mascots or nicknames to participate in its championships. The dunderheads at the NCAA has decided that the names and mascots are "hostile and abusive" to the tribes.

This, of course, comes as a major shock to the Seminole Tribe in Florida where they have worked with Florida State University for decades. The Tribe has also threatened to help legal action with FSU regarding the rule. This also comes against the wishes of many others who resent the loud mouth belly-aching minority making them look like idiots.

This rule also comes after the progress of recent years where the Indian mascots have been consistently treated with more respect than most other ethnic groups (A short bearded Irishman pumping his fists springs easily to mind). Long gone are the days when the Atlanta Braves had a white cracker in the outfield dancing a jig when the Braves hit a homerun.

The NCAA rule comes when it should be looking at rules that make sense, like requiring graduation rates or putting in a playoff system in Division I football. (Of course, there may be an out there for teams like Florida State and Illinois who may get to play for a mythical football championship since it's not "sanctioned" as a championship like every other sport.) Also do they want to keep out a legitimate contender for a championship just because the team wants to honor Native Americans by naming the most respected, most watched, most revenue producing students, namely the teams, after a group who is respected for their skills, courage and character. That's not just stupid, it's silly.

The dunderheads at the NCAA need to get their collective head out its collective anus and start focusing on making the sludge pit of college athletics better. I'm sure there are more people upset that Steve Spurrier promises two thieves on his team special police treatment if they return items they stole, or about kids that are being used to make the schools money then being dropped like a hot potato when they blow out a knee, or job hopping coaches that promise high school kids the world then jumps at the next better job, than there are that Indiana University of Pennsylvania is called the Indians. Even though the mascot is a bear.

The birthday didn't go as swimmingly well as I had hoped, nor did it go as crappy as I half expected.

Went out for a bit in the afternoon, shot some bull, had a couple of cold ones. Went home, cooked up a couple of delmonicos that I had bought just for the occasion. They tasted great. It had been a while since I had one since I generally am opposed to paying over $10 for a steak I have to cook myself. Went out that evening as well to meet with someone and share some time over a pint.

All in all, not too bad of a day, but I didn't get the special gift I was hoping for. But hey, I wasn't sure what I was hoping for anyway.

Happy birthday to me.

I finished my tour last night and headed out for a drink. After I had my fill, I headed back home. When I got settled in on the chair, I noticed that it had turned after midnight. August 6 became August 7, and I had turned another year older. Listening to Jimmy Buffett, reading John D MacDonald, having a beer. Not a bad way to turn older.

Today, I celebrate (or mope, I haven't decided) the anniversary of my arrival. It will be interesting to see how it goes. Most of my birthdays have been either reason for celebration or for indifference. I haven't really had too many bad ones. Hitting 30 and 40 was no big deal for me, I just looked at it as another round number. Hitting 31 took me kind of hard as I was now over 30 and that seemed old at the time. 41 didn't hurt nearly as bad as 31 did, possibly because I didn't feel being over 40 was as bad as being over 30.

As I finish another trip around the sun and get ready to start a new lap, I sit here at my desk and wonder what happens next. I hope the next trip will be better than this last one. It has the makings to be both better and worse in some ways. I guess that time will tell. We'll see in about 300,000,000 miles or so (I think that's around how far the earth travels in a year).

After I got off work yesterday, I stopped in for happy hour and noticed CNN on the television. They were showing pictures of a plane burning near the highway. The dateline at the bottom of the picture said Toronto. My first reaction was that another terrorist attack had occurred. The volume on the TV was way down and I was unable to hear most of what they were saying. The plane looked fully engulfed, the smoke was heavy and the traffic on the highway was backed up. I kept watching, hoping that something would come up on the screen or the news crawl at the bottom to tell me what was going on...How many dead, what kind of attack, who was on the plane, anything.

Finally there came something. The plane hadn't been attacked, it had wrecked.
Well, that's good, nobody was blowing up planes at the moment.

There were over 300 people on the plane.
Wow, that plane was pretty full. I wonder if anyone made it away alive.

About thirty to forty casualties reported.
Is that how many died? Only about 10% dead. That's pretty good.
Nobody dead.
WHAT?
Holy crap! Everybody made it off alive! The casualties were only wounded.
Amazing.

This is news. Sometimes even though the picture is ugly, the news is good. Reading the reports today it seems everybody did just the right thing and it worked out right. A story for the ages.
After all, how many people can say "I was in a plane wreck"? And be telling the truth.