Breyer's Dissent

So there was a nice bit of a back and forth over at Tim's blog today about public schools, all of which was spawned by the Supreme Court's recent decision. I don't think there were any disagreements over the meat of the case, but more over the whole subject of education in general. Regarding the actual case though, I ran across a link to Justice Breyer's dissent, which I highly recommend you read. Over a glass of single malt scotch, of course. It's long (it was written by a Supreme Court Justice after all) but worth it. It's as if, in his frustration, Breyer felt the need to educate his esteemed colleagues about the history of Brown v. Board of Education. And educate he does.

We now return you to stupid cartoons, random observations, and cute things my kid does. Oh, and this barely-related video of my favorite band ever:

Recommended for all ages

A wicked storm did blow over the little town of Austin today, and yea but a mighty bolt of lightning from the heavens did strike a transformer near mine office building. Were that transformer autobot or decepticon I know not, but I tell ye now that every bit of illumination within the walls of mine office building, both fluorescent light and computer monitor alike, did fall into darkness in one fell swoop. And lo but the cubicle dwellers did cry out in anguish, their howls of torment reaching up, up, ever heavenward towards a God that cared not if their documents were saved or if they were lost.

So that was one of the more interesting parts of my workday. I'll stop talking like that now.

I arrived home to the greetings of a little boy who wanted to play some chase. This is our game ever since Henry started running, chasing each other from one end of the condo to another. Who's chasing who changes fluidly and without hesitation. When GooGoo's chasing me, it often turns into hide n' seek, with me hiding and him finding me, always with a squeal of delight followed by lots of tickling. The dog seems to think it's his duty to narc me out when I'm hiding. Sellout.

Sidenote: my kid is running. With speed and reckless abandon. Holy cheezburger.

The games of chase have taken a difficult turn as of late, though. Difficult for me, anyway. See, for a while there, GooGoo liked to chase after me while pulling or pushing one of his pull or push toys. Now though, he demands that I pull or push the toy while I chase him. And seeing as how those things are designed for people around the 2 foot height range, I find myself running around while hunched over quite a bit. Not so great for the back.

But lo, it does make the boy child happy.

Getting shit done is for losers

So it was one of them there productive weekends 'round the old Holmes household. We didn't plan it, it just worked out that way. We managed to transform the room formerly known as the Pit of Don't-Go-In-There Clutter and Shame into the Office of Dope Smooth Relaxification. It was an assbuster, but we got it done and kept the fighting to a minimum. I also hooked up my new router that The Ash got me for Father's Day. No more stealing interwebby for me!

Oh, I also managed to write my very first post for DadCentric. The good lads over there invited me to join in their merriment, and only a fool would've said no. Oh, the daddy wisdom dispensation has only just begun.

No stranger to you or me

You know that old Genesis song "In The Air Tonight" that Phil Collins supposedly wrote after witnessing a drowning, but was helpless to do anything about it? Ash and I totally had a moment like that tonight. Henry was there too, but I don't think he's heard that song.

We were driving down a business-lined street, and off to our right there was a car waiting to pull out of the parking lot of a fast food restaurant. And sitting atop their car were several bags of food, along with beverages to wash it all down. As soon as they pulled into traffic, they were clearly going to lose every morsel they'd just purchased. Ash honked as we passed, but it was clearly futile. Short of Ash performing a 90 degree turn at 40+ mph to whip into the parking lot, followed by me diving out of the passenger side and throwing myself across their hood, there was no stopping the impending tragedy. It's not like they were losing steaks and baked potatoes or anything, but still. I hate to see food, even of the fast variety, go to waste.

It's a shitty feeling seeing something about to go wrong and not being able to do anything about it. Like that whole Iraq war thing.

Ah well, maybe they went home and steamed some veggies.

As an aside, I'm not exactly a Genesis fan, but I will say that if I'm driving and I come across that song on the radio, I won't change the station only because I love to beat the crap out of my steering wheel at the part where the drums come in. I do it every single time, and it's a wonder I haven't destroyed a steering wheel in the process.

Happy Father's Day

Click for larger view.

No offense to any British members of the readership

Inspired by tacky comments made while watching "The Queen."

Doings of the young man as of late

Henry's got a thing about containers and shuffling the contents of one to another, particularly when those contents are liquid. Today, I watched him pour some water from his water bottle into his little red wagon, then lift the wagon to his lips and drink the water from there. I guess sometimes the easy way isn't the fun way.

When I was young and I heard adults talk about how fast kids grow up, I thought they were full of shit because it seemed to me as if I couldn't get grown up fast enough. Being a kid felt like a long drawn-out pain in the ass. And of course, now's the part in my little narrative where I tell you about how I see things differently now that I'm on the other side of the generational divide. It seems such a cliche thing to say but it's so damn true. It seems like Henry does new and amazing stuff everyday that I don't manage to get down in writing. I suppose I have this idea that I'll have this blog to look back on in my old age as a record of what was going on in our lives all those years ago, but who knows, maybe, hopefully I'll still be too busy with the present to spend too much time on the past.

I will say that Henry's in this language phase now that I already know I'm going to miss when it's gone. It's as if he's taking all the words he knows and trying them out in combinations to see how they sound together. By far, the best of these combos is "doodoo-mao." To explain: Doodoo is Henry's name for his crazy great aunt from New Orleans, a name he came up with all on his own, lest ye think we were calling her names. And mao (as in Tse-Tung) is his word for cats, a word he settled on after hearing a cat talk its talk. How doodoo and mao came together is a mystery for the ages, but together they are.

There's also this love affair with cars that's brewing. When we walk out to our car, he points and shouts "tacah!" Cars drive by us on the street. "Tacah!" He sees the car out the window. "Tacah! Tacah!" It could be that he inherited the love of all things mechanical that seems to run in his mom's side of the family. He sure as hell didn't get it from me. He loves cars so much that we even bought him one. Yes, I know, spoiling our child with a fancy car before he even has a license, contributing to the ruination of today's youth. It could be that the car is one of the best places to rock out. Just tonight, the little guy got to hear that kickass new White Stripes song for the first time, and he banged his little head as much as his car seat would let him.