The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘Weekly Wacko’

Grandpa

Earlier this week my paternal grandfather passed away, which is sad but not entirely unexpected. At first the plan was for some of the grandkids to tell stories at the memorial but that has been changed. Nevertheless, it set my mind thinking about stories about my grandpa and I just wanted to share the ones that came to mind.

One summer when I was in college we (my mom, dad and I) went to “the cabin.” (“The cabin” is a cabin in northern Arizona that my parents and grandparents co-owned. My parents thought it was a great thing because, being a Military family, we didn’t have a permanent home. The cabin was our permanent home.)

At some point after arriving my grandma asked my dad to cut down a branch from a tree. She asked my dad to do this because she was worried about my grandpa hurting himself if he did it (I think grandpa was ok with this in theory, but I think he wanted to be the one to get the work done). I was also sent along on this branch cutting fun. I don’t honestly remember if my dad told me to come along, or my mom – but knowing my dad, I would guess my mom asked me to go (like grandpa, I’m sure my dad was confident and would’ve been perfectly content to do this work himself). This is funny to me – the two wives, and moms, turning to the younger one and saying, “hey, how about you wield the chain saw.”

My dad propped the ladder up against the tree and began to climb. I think I was standing at the ladder, trying to keep it steady, and grandpa was a few feet off. No one was happy. My grandpa was, in his way, worried about my dad’s safety. I was right there, in my own way, doing the same. These worries came out in the form of saying, “ehhh … careful … no … you know … let me do this, huh?”

Eventually (I’m honestly not sure why) my dad decided to hand the reins over to me. It could be that a slight bit more reach was needed, and my lanky frame was fit for the job. I climbed the ladder and now experienced what my dad had just been experiencing – two people worried about my safety and saying hey wait, let me do this instead.

I don’t think I am doing a very good job of describing this moment, because I can’t convey with such a simple, silly thing – cutting a branch down in the woods – how much of each of us was shown there. It really was a very touching, caring moment.

My grandpa was an electrical engineer. My dad is a mechanical engineer. I am a software engineer. And here’s what I’ve noticed about engineers – we (very often wrongly) think we’re better than you. My logic is the most sound logic – your logic is flawed and, frankly, illogical. We’re obnoxious.

Generally, if an engineer wants to take over doing something for you it’s not because you’re doing it wrong, it’s that you’re not doing it just right. But here was a moment where each of us wanted to take over in our very engineering way, “no, no, don’t do that …” (watching and analyzing and seeing that you should have your feet more spread apart on the ladder, can’t you see that your positioning is troublesome at that height) – except instead of wanting to take over to correct the wrong it was all out of care and love.

So, that’s  that.

The other two memories that come to mind are fast. I promise.

1 – One time when I stood up (my sister says from a chair, I thought it was me getting out of a car) my grandpa said, “wow! Look at those limbs! You’re like a spider!”

My grandpa had a very quick wit and was a clever fella. Unfortunately, those jokes he had usually left my mind because they were spot on in that moment, but then you forgot about them after the situation passed. I really do wish I had written down some of the gems he’d said.

2 – One day at the cabin I headed out to the back deck to read. Not long after I headed out there, my grandpa came outside and sat down with a book as well. He looked up at me and grinned. It felt like he was a little brother who wanted to do something together. I could be all wrong there, but I like thinking that he wanted to come join me and he was enjoying it just being us two sitting outside, reading.

3 – Bonus third! One time (according to my mom), my grandpa called me handsome. So take that!

Lastly – you know what’s awkward? Co-workers saying, “ooooh where are you going? Big trip!” and you saying, “ah … no … um … it’s not a good trip,” but still they’re looking for an answer, so eventually you spit out that it’s for a funeral and you get emotional and close to tears in a cubical. Cubicals are no place for tears!! (Don’t worry Story Teller, if you’re reading this, I appreciated you asking and I found the moment funny and awkward – just my style.)

I’ll be back to blogging regular stuff next week sometime.

Adventures in Haircuts

For the past two years or so I have been going to the same place to get my hair cut. I go to the place for two reasons:

  • It’s cheap
  • It’s close by

Clearly, I’m not too concerned with how my haircuts go. But it wouldn’t hurt me if I was. Except for a handful of occasions, I have left my haircutters of choice disappointed. I go assuming that I will leave with a haircut I don’t like. Usually it’s an easy problem though – they cut it shorter than I want. I can get over this because a week or two after I get my hair cut it will look nice, and because they cut it shorter than I want, they’re saving me money. Winners all around!

Unfortunately for me, I once had two good haircuts in a ROW from a girl who worked there briefly. Craziness! I left and thought, “hey I look nice” instead of, “hey I look like Jim Carrey from Dumb & Dumber.”  Bad haircut

Last week I was on my way to my usual hair cut place while talking to my sister on the phone. She helped convince me to head to a new place – for a good haircut! What an adventure! My ‘cheap’ criteria still had to be met so I just went to a different cheapskate place …

Much to my surprise, the haircut at this place was even worse. I have a weird bump on the back of my head which should be treated like a speed hump … the girl cutting my hair disagreed. In her mind pushing hard against my head with the clippers would round out my head in no time and make her future work easier (except I won’t be going back there).

I wanted to ask her if, in her mind, she and I had recently suffered from a bad break-up … because she really seemed angry.

Check out the lovely pictures I sent to my sister when I got home.

bad haircutbad haircut

< How do you have two ears SO different? >

 

 

 

 

 

For this one she told me my eyes made me look like a cartoon villain. I was going for a ‘shocked’ look.

bad haircut

I like to think it makes me look like I’m always at an angle. Head tilted questioningly.

Have no fear, dear reader, I fixed the ear problem with my razor. I’d say I’m looking pretty dapper.

Parental Visit Recap

My Mom was in town for a visit from a Wednesday (Halloween) to Tuesday, my Dad Thursday to Sunday. Who’s ready for a recap!?! (This post is mostly for me, but it has some entertaining stuff even if you don’t know them.)

Recap Time!

Wednesday night my mom and I went to dinner after I got her from the airport. They had an alligator at the place, in a cage, chilling. Kitschy, but hey, who doesn’t dig a gator? They also had gator on the menu. My mom asked, “wait, real alligator? Or is that a euphemism?” … I have no idea what that would be a euphemism for, but I don’t like the idea of it.

Thursday I worked til an hour or two after my Dad arrived. My Mom had my car so she and my Dad drove to work to get me. We went to Johnson Space Center and did the tour. It’s a staple item on the Houston visit to-do list. Red means serious when it comes to NASA phones

Friday we drove down to Galveston. We had been warned that there was a motorcycle rally in town … but boy, that didn’t do it justice. There were a LOT of motorcycles, and folks in the whole getup. Everywhere we went you heard the sound of motorcycles.

We walked through a street that was closed off for vendors selling motorcycle clothing and such. My Dad said something along the lines of not feeling so out of place since he visited Amsterdam in the 70s (he was either still in college at the United States Military Academy or just out of school … basically, not your average Amsterdam visitor).

Here’s what is really funny. We went into an antique store and my Mom bought a vintage Barbie carrying case (originally I used the word ‘old’ but when Googling for an image of it, ‘vintage’ is what brought me the desired result).
Vintage Barbie Carrying Case at Lone Star Rally

My Mom, Dad, and I went from the antique store to the motorcyclists gathering area on the Strand (a main street in Galveston). Bikes everywhere, guys and girls with leather on everywhere. I suggested that my Mom step in front of a bunch of bikes and pose with her Barbie carrying case. She obliged. A big tough guy looked over at us, saw the case, and smirked. Three women who were motorcycle ladies, sitting on the ground by us, noticed what was happening. I don’t remember the exact conversation, but in turn each of the women seemed to realize they had owned the same carrying case when they were little girls and they also loved it.

I really regret not asking them to pose for a picture with the case. The worst part of it is that they would’ve been cool with it, too. For all the gruff exterior, the motorcyclists we ran across were a bunch of sweethearts. Yes, I said it, sweethearts.

Saturday was a big day. We headed into town and split ways. My Mom, for the irony factor and her love of quilting (check out the quilt she made for me!), went to the International Quilt Festival (last year’s attendance was over 60,000!! Holy cow!). Houston International Quilt Festival

Meanwhile my Dad and I headed to a sports bar to watch Army beat Air Force (what’s up!), and I read some homework (booorrrrinnnggggg). We linked up with my Mom around 6 pm to go to the Rockets home opener! Unfortunately the Rockets lost but the crowd was good, and the game was entertaining.

That guy has a foam finger for a head

Sunday saw my Dad’s departure. But before that we headed to a few more shops. My Mom tried to get me to explain hipsters, but I did not have the answer. I honestly don’t know how to explain why someone would wear suspenders, but then take the time to work on their hair only to make it look like they had just woken up. You tell me, suspenders-wearing guy.

After my Dad hopped on an airplane, my Mom and I headed to more shops. It was … exciting.

Monday I went in for about a 3/4 long day, then … you guessed it, shopping. We capped the night off with a nice dinner and a bit of TV on my dearest friend, my couch. I’ll admit, I now own two new, nice sweaters.

Tuesday my Mom headed home.