The institutional mouthpiece of Kjel.org

The CEO just had quite a scare. Appropriate I guess, this being Halloween and all. I learned (or more accurately, was reminded) that the CFO was going to be out of town from December 6th through the 9th. I’d been told about this several times I’m sure but I blocked it out; the CEO is quite good at blocking out unpleasant facts. My first thought when I was reminded of her travel plans? Dear God NO, not on the Holiday Ale Fest weekend! Who is going to drive me and my drunken friends home after we’ve been drinking beer all morning?

Thankfully, I discovered that the Festival is the weekend before the CFO leaves. Whew. Everything is fine again in the world of Kjel.org, and the CFO will be allowed to take her trip after all.

Remind me to take a vacation during the next election cycle. I can’t watch TV without being bombarded by stupid political ads or, even worse, debates. Boring. Last night five different campaigns called my house, asking if I was going to vote and even asking how I voted. I of course told all callers that I’d already voted the straight anarchist ticket, which, if it were an option would not be far from the truth this year.

If there has ever been better weather in Portland than the weather today, I’m not sure I’ve seen it. The weather could be identical to today all year long and the CEO would be a happy man.

The Jr. VP is apparently very respectful of our national symbols. He repeatedly shushed his two babysitters (thanks Chief Educator and * [his date]!) when they tried to talk over the Star Spangled Banner while watching the World Series. I have no idea where that came from, but I don’t really mind: it’s better than him getting into his head the idea that he should be lighting flags on fire or spitting at veterans or something.

Why are the two of you not shutting up now?

* Official Kjel.org title redacted for reasons of national security.

Remember, Daylight Savings ends today: set your clocks back one hour when you go to bed tonight. This public service announcement has been brought to you by Kjel.org.

The thermostat in my room cannot be set below 65 degrees. Very smart of the Westin: when I got back from an outside meeting earlier today I would have set it at -7 if given the option. Touche, Westin.

The CFO and I have a problem. A delicious problem. It seems to manifest every Friday: we are tired and don’t feel like cooking, and despite our efforts to eat a little healthier than we have been, comfort food is what we want. Now, for some people, comfort food means soup or mac n cheese or pizza or cheeseburgers or what have you. Kjel.org is a bit weird in that respect: for us, comfort food involves grilled meat, rice and mac salad, and gets delivered from here via Delivered Dish. Friday is our weakest day (by our I really mean my). From the menu: Kalua Pig on Fridays! I mean really, how can I be expected to resist? They bring it right to your house, for God’s sake. . . .

Thankfully, the Jr. VP’s middle name is not Wayne.

The CEO bitches about his neighbors on occasion, but really, in the big scheme of things, it could be a whole lot worse.

Report: Piniella agrees to manage Cubs
CHICAGO — Lou Piniella apparently will take his fiery brand of managing to the Windy City. Chicago radio station ESPN 1000 reported Monday that the Chicago Cubs have agreed to a three-year deal with Piniella. A source also told The Associated Press that Piniella had agreed to a three-year deal. Financial terms have not been finalized, but the radio station is reporting that Piniella will receive approximately $3 million annually. The Cubs officially will announce the hiring of Piniella on Tuesday at Wrigley Field. Piniella, 63, faces a difficult task in turning around a Cubs franchise which posted a 66-96 record in 2006 and has reached the postseason just twice in the last 17 years.

As it turns out, instead of completing a fence this weekend as originally planned, the CEO and the rest of Kjel.org will instead be traveling to Bellevue yet again, but this time we’ll actually see my parents. They are going to be back to Cali before Thanksgiving, and we otherwise probably wouldn’t see them until Christmas. They wouldn’t really care if it was just me and the CFO, but Jr. has all kinds of new tricks he needs to show them, like sit, shake, roll-over, and speak. He’s a good boy, and the treats he gets, he earns.

I would like to enroll Jr. at Winterhaven Elementary just so I can make fun of his classmates’ parents.

Anti-war parents pull kids from field trip to Guard base
PORTLAND, Ore. (AP) - Parents of some children at a Portland elementary school, opposed to the U.S. invasion of Iraq, have refused to let them attend Pentagon-financed classes at an Oregon National Guard base. The Starbase program uses jet engines and advanced computer technology to teach children about space and aviation. Each year, a handful of students don’t attend because their parents object to the military’s role, said Marilyn Sholian, Starbase director for Portland Public Schools. But Sholian has never seen anything like the reaction at Winterhaven, a K-8 school in southeast Portland. Parents of 12 fourth- and fifth-graders have refused to let their children take part.

Southeast Portland. Why bother stating the obvious; I think we all could have assumed where this school was.

“I was shocked by the number and adamancy,” she told The Oregonian newspaper. The boycott means 20 percent of the 60 eligible Winterhaven students won’t attend. Winterhaven Principal Tanya Ghattas signed the school up for Starbase two weeks ago, after another Portland school gave up its spot in the program’s fall schedule. Parents voiced concerns right away. Jessica Applegate-Brown said she couldn’t encourage her fourth-grade son to spend time around war machines after openly talking about her opposition to the war. “I’m objecting to the climate we’re in right now,” she said. “Ten years ago, this may have not been a big deal. But now, it is.” Another parent, James Ewing, said he’s not anti-military, but couldn’t let his fourth-grade daughter attend: “It’s not appropriate for the military to be conducting what amounts to a recruiting program at an elementary school level.” . . . “They may not come out and say it’s recruitment,” Ewing said. “But they’re definitely laying the groundwork for that.” Capt. Mike Braibish, an Oregon National Guard spokesman, said no one has tracked the number of kids going through the program who join the armed forces, but says it would probably be “quite low”.

Captain Mike did quite well not to end his quote “quite low, you freakin idiots.”

I looked at the Portland Starbase website and read the curriculum, and it sounds pretty cool. If Stinkboy ever gets to do this I am definitely going to tag along. I didn’t see though where in the program the recruitment section was, but I have a feeling I wasn’t looking for it quite as hard as some of the Winterhaven parents.

It’s a bit difficult for the CEO to imagine being so unconfident in one’s ability to influence your own children. If the CEO was, say, adamantly anti-military (and that is a pretty goddamn big IF), I’m pretty sure that it would rub off enough on the boy to an extent that I wouldn’t be worried that a few hours at the Guard base on a school field trip would turn Jr. into GI Joe. Being a parent can be scary enough; if you don’t believe that you are or have been a strong enough influence on your kids it must be terrifying.

Or maybe it’s not that at all, and this whole thing is just another example of stupid hippie posturing (”We’re speaking truth to power, man. We’re making a stand! No child of mine is going to be exposed to Chimpy McBushHitler’s war machine, man, unless we’re marching against it. No blood for oil!” , or, more likely “Did you hear that David and Lisa pulled their twins, River and Skye, out of some field trip to a military base? I think we need to do the same with little Aspen. After all, we’re as progressive as David and Lisa if not more so, aren’t we?”). Either way it makes me laugh. And a little bit sad for the kids missing out.

Mon Dieu! Life is again imitating movies, and great movies at that:

First Kim “I’m so ronery” Jong Il shows off his WMD’s, then Alec Baldwin shows off just what a d-bag he truly is. Do you know who I am? I hope the cop did, and asked him how the missus was doing.

If Michael Moore blows up Mt. Rushmore in the next few days, I think that my head might explode.

Picking up the CFO tonight; everything should soon again be right in Kjel.org. The CEO can now look forward to a weekend of unrepentant slothfulness . . .

If only that were true. I need to spend at least part of this weekend completing a fence between the HQ and the abode of these gentlemen, mentioned previously. I paid for some professionals to come out and deliver the materials, and, more importantly, to dig the post-holes and set the posts in cement. The fact that they had one of these and I didn’t made it worth every penny to have them dig through the clay:

This weekend I get to hammer boards to a fence. Fun. At least I won’t be trying to watch that infernal boy as I do it. Have I made it clear how much I despise taking care of him. . .?

Anyway, I am about to skip out of work early to go get him so that he and I have some time to play before we have to go get the CFO. Once Mommy is back the CEO just can’t compete (and rightly so), so I need to get some more playtime in with Jr. while I can.

Jr. and I made it through the another day without any major damage. Just so you know, that is barbecue sauce on the boy’s face, not blood, neither his nor mine. I should probably give him a bath tomorrow before the CFO gets back, and maybe even take one myself . . .

Jr. was up bright and early on Sunday: Crikey, Stinkboy, it’s still dark. You sure we have to get up? He was quite insistent.

We spent the first few hours of the day pretty quietly, relaxing some, playing in the front room and bedroom, (apparently for an almost 22 month old, cranking up the volume on a clock radio, tuning it in to “Country Hits”, then repeatedly hitting the ON/OFF button is the height of comedy. I almost got the boy a paper bag because I thought he might hyperventilate) and sitting on the couch, watching TV and reading.

I figured though that since we had killed off all of yesterday playing inside and watching football, today we should venture into the outside world and see what it might hold for us. Stinkboy was game so away we went. We started out at the hardware store, picking up a few odds and ends required at the HQ. I call the following picture “A boy at A-Boy”.

The the two of us then went to Thriftway, to make sure that our supply of tasty beverages did not reach critical levels. We also bought pot pies.

Jr. and I arrived at the Chief Educator’s pad to find that the two residents currently are the functional equivalent of roughly 1.66 people. [The lady]* injured her thumb a few weeks back in a horrific kick-ball accident; the Chief Educator recently screwed up his knee doing something athletic (or so he says — he might have done it getting off his couch for all I know). Her right hand is nearly useless; he cannot really walk, as most of us understand the term anyway. Here they are making a team effort to start the lawn mower.

The Chief Educator hobbled back inside to watch some football; the rest of the boys joined him for coffee and doughnuts.

Still, the yard got mowed. Well done, * [ma’am].

We left the cripples to their devices and headed over to the park. Jr had plenty of energy from all the sugar and coffee in him, so he ran around shrieking like a banshee. The swings were fun for a minute of two, but throwing bark on the slide and trying to uproot newly planted shrubs were his two favorites I think.

I finally told him we had to go home, since it was getting toward nap time, and the CEO felt a few raindrops starting to come. I shouldn’t have said it out loud: the Jr VP made a break for it. I anticipate being able to outrun him for at least another six months, nine if I’m lucky. I finally caught him and back the HQ we went. For some reason he then started about a three hour nap.

We made it through the day with only minor injuries to one of us (the boy bit it once at the park, but he shook it off pretty quick) and nothing at the HQ broken. We’ll see if the CEO can keep this streak going. I’m cautiously optimistic about my chances.

* Official title redacted for national security purposes

Jr and I took the CFO to the airport this morning; she’ll be gone until Tuesday. Pray for us. Or at least for me; the boy will be fine.

On the way home we stopped for breakfast; below is a picture of the Jr VP looking a little crazy as he finishes off an egg mcmuffin. He doesn’t get fast food too often so I think he liked his special Saturday treat. Note the shirt: he begged me this morning to be allowed to wear it, since it is gameday and all. You will not be surprised to learn that he didn’t have to beg too much. Looking good, Stinkboy! Feeling good, Daddy!

After our foray into fast food for brunch, the lad decided we should make something special tonight for dinner. Here he is browsing through a few magazines looking for ideas. I just hope he doesn’t ask for something that goes with favre beans and a nice chianti. It sounds silly, but I’ve worried about such things in the past. . .

Damned hippies might yet know what the hell they’re doing:

New research shows that the active ingredient in marijuana may prevent the progression of the disease by preserving levels of an important neurotransmitter that allows the brain to function. Researchers at the Scripps Research Institute in California found that marijuana’s active ingredient, delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol, or THC, can prevent the neurotransmitter acetylcholine from breaking down more effectively than commercially marketed drugs.

Actually, this is good news for the CEO, since I’d anyway decided a long time ago that once I make it to 70 or so (knock on wood), I am going to do all those drugs that I denied myself as a youth. Or were denied to me, anyway*. Now I can tell The Man to lay off since I am “treating my Alzheimers.” I’m not sure how I’ll explain the rest of the drugs, but this is a start.

* Or, if not so much denied, then just unavailable because I wasn’t cool. I’ll have no problem rectifying my coolness problem when I am an old codger, I’m sure.

The CEO (especially if he’s been tipping back a few) occasionally will get the hiccups. They are very irritating, and I’ve been known to say something along the lines of Dammit, I’d do anything to get rid of these stupid hiccups, and really mean it. Well, it turns out that that statement is no longer true.

The hippies were out protesting again downtown today; I can smell them from my office. I’m a little sad not to have seen any giant paper mache puppets or heard any drums yet, but the day is still young so I’m hopeful.

Oh, the humanity!!

Yakima warehouse fire destroys 4% of nation’s yield of hops
About 4 percent of the nation’s total hop yield was lost to fire Monday, as 2 million pounds of the pungent beer-making crop smoldered in a Yakima warehouse. The fire began just before noon in a Division Street warehouse leased by S.S. Steiner Inc., filling the sky with smoke. It was under control by Monday evening, allowing cleanup crews to start hauling away the damaged hops. “This will affect the U.S. market particularly because in some of the varieties, there was a feeling we were already a little short this year,” said Ann George, the administrator for the Washington Hop Commission. . . . As for the hop industry, the fallout from the fire remains to be seen. Depending on the varieties involved in the fire, there could be sudden increases in demand for certain hops, George said. Though most of this year’s crop has been contracted for already, the fire could lead to increased prices next year, she said.

I plan to bury 6 kegs of IPA tomorrow, just in case.

The new season of South Park starts tonight. The CEO is happy.

More quotes and stuff about the guys behind the show:

“I hate conservatives, but I really f***ing hate liberals,” said co-creator Matt Stone, in an oft-repeated quote from when Stone and partner Trey Parker accepted a People for the American Way award in 2001. But if the creative team’s spitballs are lobbed mostly at people like Rob Reiner and Sean Penn et al, that’s mostly because the liberal elites are the ones mostly in charge. “Hollywood views regular people as children, and they think they’re the smart ones who need to tell the idiots out there how to be… South Park was based on our hatred and loathing for Hollywood.”. . .

Probably their philosophy is best described as a sort of don’t-tread-on-me libertarianism rooted in the anti-establishment West. Parker and Stone like to describe themselves as just “two guys from Colorado,” which indeed they are: They met at the University of Colorado, not Harvard. They have no sacred cows, but don’t take themselves very seriously either. . .

Sometimes their targets fight back, and the result isn’t very pretty. During the 2004 election, for instance, Sean Penn, offended at the South Park team’s mocking of youth-vote campaigns, sent them a letter explaining that they themselves are too young to know better: “You guys are talented young guys but, alas, primarily young guys.” Also, they haven’t personally visited Jordan and Iraq, the way Penn has. The actor signed his letter, “All the best, and a sincere f*** you.” That’s telling ‘em, Sean! . . .

The only thing they regret about the Scientology episode, which depicts an upset Tom Cruise locking himself in the closet after one of the South Park boys suggests he’s not the best actor in the world (“You’re not Gene Hackman or that guy who played Napoleon Dynamite, but you’re OK, I guess”) is “that Tom Cruise stink,” as Stone puts is. “Everyone’s sick of it. We really have this very strong philosophical position about the Mohammed cartoon controversy, and no one wants to talk about that. Everyone just wants to talk about Tom Cruise.”

Their philosophical position about the Mohammed cartoon is that a free society shouldn’t be cowed by threats from Islamofascists. “If you’re saying this is the one thing we can’t do — besides Tom Cruise — because they’re threatening violence,” said Parker, “Well, then, I guess that’s what everyone should do. If the Catholics don’t want us ripping on Jesus anymore, then they should just threaten violence. That’s why it’s such a slippery slope and such a dangerous path to go down.”

The lad and I survived last night. Whether we survive the weekend and early next week (the CFO is going to Vermont) remains to be seen. We’ll probably make it though: my luck has lasted this long, so why not longer? I’m riding a good streak here.

You are going to catch me, right Daddy?

The Jr VP usually enjoys a smorgasbord when Daddy is making dinner. On his tray he has some dried strawberries, dried bananas, applesauce (in the bowl), string cheese, goldfish crackers, lebanon bologna, and in his hand I believe is the last bite of a bagel. He is washing it all down with a nice pinot gris in the sippy cup. That last part might actually have been Daddy.

The lad and I are home solo tonight for a while, and that can mean only one thing: dangerous games for boys! Jr might play a game he recently invented wherein he stands up on a chair and sees how far over he can lean before the chair starts to tip. Daddy’s part of the game is to catch him. It’s a good one, and one Mommy won’t play for some reason. Such a mean Mommy.

He also likes the game where he runs up to the front of me, grabs daddy’s shirt, and yanks it over his own head. He calls that “going in the tent“. That tent needs a good airing out I’m sure, but the boy doesn’t seem to mind. He would be one to talk about bad smells anyway, since in the last 18 months he’s pooped his pants many more times than the CEO has by quite a substantial number. Many, many more times.

Hurry home, CFO. And remember, if the door is hot, don’t open it.

Daddy, daddy, are we still going to the Mariners game this weekend? I’ve got my shirt on and I’m ready to go! Yay, Mariners! Yay, Ichiro!

Well, son number one, let’s have a little talk about what you mean by we . . .

Stinkboy playing at the CFO’s parents place where he was dropped off prior to the game. He spent the night there, and in typical brown nosing fashion was a very good boy. Well done, Jr.

Me and the CFO warming up before the game. Check out the riffraff with us: I’ve seen that one in the middle in a vaguely similar pose before I think.

This hardcase followed us to our seats. And who is that blonde girl behind him?

The view from above our seats. Not too shabby a game at all, although the M’s only needed two hours to dispatch the Rangers. Barely enough time to get a hotdog and a few beers, but I somehow managed.

A terrible picture of me and the CFO at the game. It’s as if it was taken with a camera phone or something . . .

A good time at the game was had by all, and an even better time was had at the post-game cocktail reception at the CEO’s parent’s house. No pictures of that one though: I still want to be allowed to visit.