The institutional mouthpiece of Kjel.org

Kjel.org went to a new park this morning to play: Lake Grove Elementary. They have huge playground toys, much bigger than Gabriel Park. Much more dangerous too for a 2.5 year old, since they are designed for bigger kids. The Jr. VP showed off his climbing skills, and his new skills with his “bike” (it actually has three wheels, but he gets a little insulted if I talk about his trike. He’s a big boy, don’t you know?). There also is a giant dome, similar to this but much, much larger even.

The CFO and I both agreed that when I finally put my remake of 1985’s Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome on film (details about the original here) Lake Grove Elementary may be one the locations we film at. The CFO greenlighted this one a long time ago and is just waiting for me to get some script issues worked out. For instance, two (of the many, many) questions I’m grappling with: the time-traveling sasquatches with shifty eyes are proving difficult to fit into the plot, and determining an appropriate spot to have Mr. T make a cameo is not as easy* as it sounds?

* Anywhere he damn well pleases is NOT the answer, unfortunately.

The CEO doesn’t like chronic whiners and tries not to be one, but that being said, here goes: Having the 4th of July on a Wednesday is the suck. Is there anything anyone can do to make sure that in future this doesn’t happen again? The CEO would be most grateful.

The CFO recently purchased a doll for the Jr. VP with the idea being to get him used to the thought of having a small baby around. Jr. was presented with the, er, doll, and he grabbed it with a grin and said baby! baby! So far so good. Then he bit the fake infant square in the forehead, held him in his teeth and shook him like a coyote shaking a dead or soon-to-be-dead rabbit. Hmm. Probably shouldn’t play with the doll around Mommy, stinkboy. You’ll just worry her. And our case worker too, if she is around.

Last Tuesday the CEO arrived at PDX an hour and half before my flight was to leave. The line at the United ticket counter wove around and all the way back to the Powells. No way in hell am I making it on this flight says I. Still I stand there just the same, and the line is moving at least a little bit. Then, a stroke of good luck: I hear a United rep asking “Is anyone in this line on flight 837 to Denver?” Hey, I’m on flight 837 to Denver! I got to go to the very front of the line, and was checked in with an Economy plus seat, through security, and at my gate all in about 20 minutes. Score one for the CEO.

Often when I’m at the Denver airport I have something wrong with me. It may be just that I’m sick, or tired from getting off a flight from the East coast, or have a wicked hangover. I’ve also tried to navigate that airport with an almost broken ankle (stupid fancy running at the CTO’s wedding) and twice with a suppurating leg wound, one of those times with said leg wound also being infected by stripper cooties. Suffice to say, the Denver airport this time around was pretty easy, boring even. The flight from Denver to New York though? Sucked. We sat on the runway for an extra hour due to thunderstorms stretching from the Great Lakes to Louisiana, and then once aloft we had to fly north of the Great Lakes to get around the weather. I was supposed to be at an event in Midtown at 8:30; my plane landed at La Guardia at about 8:30. I knew a cab ride to Midtown should be roughly $30 or $40 depending on where I was going, but since I was late I paid $50 to one of the ‘car service’ guys who hang out at the LaGuardia baggage claim. It was nice to have the air conditioning and a clean ride, and at the fixed rate I was pretty sure the driver would haul ass and I was in a hurry. It was a wise move: the dude had me at the event hotel in what felt like 10 minutes. Quick check-in, quick shower, and then I was out the door to my social engagement.

The big selling point of the place I was going was that it had a an open rooftop bar on about the top floor of a tall building. As I enter the establishment dozens and dozens of people are coming down the stairs — a torrential downpour had started. All of a sudden this place is a lot less fun, and becomes just another packed, crowded and hot New York nightclub. Not my scene; I headed back to the hotel.

On Wednesday I did business. Talked to the people I needed to talk to, got some information I was looking for, and made myself available to any and all comers. It was nice: some of the people that go to these sorts of things are actually friends, and in an industry as small as mine it’s good to maintain connections with folks. I was able to duck out at lunchtime and see an old friend from Bellevue, so that was nice too. It was classic New York: I met him under the clock in the middle of Grand Central Station; we ate pastrami for lunch.

Thursday was more of the same: a lot of handshakes and business cards. I had a flight to catch Thursday afternoon so at about noon I checked out and made my way to La Guardia. I had asked the hotel concierge what a cab to the airport should cost. The old guy looked at his watch (to gauge the potential traffic or construction maybe?) and said that a cab ride would be $27. Not “$25 to $30“, not “around $27“. $27. I test this with a cab driver: “I’ll give you $30 for a ride to La Guardia.” He thinks about it for about 5 seconds, and says “Done — get in.” It was the best cab ride of my life and made the guy from Tuesday look like a Granny out for a Sunday drive. We were running lights, weaving like Andretti, and basically driving like we were being chased by Sheriff Roscoe. We went past the UN building: I was going to get a picture but the camera phone doesn’t work well when the vehicle in which you are traveling is doing 70 mph and is half on the sidewalk. My parents are taking a trip to NY in a few months. I am definitely not recommending this tactic to them; my mom would not have enjoyed this. She in fact would have wet her pants, repeatedly.

La Guardia looks like Sea-Tac did in 1985. That isn’t a compliment. At least my plane left on time, depositing me eventually at O’Hare in Chicago. My layover there almost made me insane. The terminal was packed; every gate was in non-stop use. There was nowhere to sit that wasn’t next to someone. And the bar had about six seats in it, and of course there were 50 people packed in there. And it was hot and muggy. And I was tired. In retrospect it really is remarkable that I didn’t beat someone up in Chicago.

Speaking of people that I considered beating up: I was on the plane and finally settled in, had my book out, and was starting to relax. The drink cart had come by, and I treated myself to a little Beefeater and tonic. The tonic was not good (Seagrams tonic water barely drinkable; if I’d have known that was my only option I would just asked for a Sprite), but it was good enough. Then, the movie started. It was the surely delightful “Wild Hogs“, featuring Tim Allen, John Travolta, and Martin Lawrence. I was not watching the movie but it turned out the guy in front of me was. Evidently he was enjoying the film: every five minutes or so he would laugh so hard that the table tray attached to his seat would violently shake. If you didn’t hear the laughter but only saw this guy you’d call 911 and report that someone was having convulsions. The first time he had a laughing spasm part of my drink spilled; luckily paperback books these days are quite absorbent.

When I park my car in the PDX garage, I don’t necessarily try to get a spot closest to the elevators or doors. Instead I try to choose a floor and row that will be easy to remember when I get back. I don’t try to memorize the letter-number combo, but instead create a word, image, or catchphrase to help me remember. For example, if I am parked in row 2-B, I might think about the B-2 Stealth Bomber, and when I get my bags at the end of a trip and try to think about where my car is I’ll remember visualizing a Stealth Bomber, which leads me to 2-B eventually. This time around? I got a spot in a row that may have been the easiest yet for me to remember: 3-B. If any of you hosers can tell me why this one was so easy to remember, I’ll give you a prize, personally hand selected from the Chief Educator’s house.

UPDATE: I just learned that the Chief Bride won $500 playing bingo last night. Two prizes from the Chief Educator’s house then.

Checked another one off the list:

The CEO is on a life-long quest to eat one serving of every animal on the planet, but lately things had stalled a bit on that front. I’m happy to proclaim to all the animals on Earth that I’m back, baby! This could be huge in my quest: I located an exotic meats guy down at the Farmers Market over the weekend. Last night at the HQ we dined on something new: a Water Buffalo. Next weekend? I’m eating a Yak.

During part of our jaunt to the Market the boy and I were standing around waiting while Mommy went over to Starbucks to get her fix (her shakes were getting really bad). While waiting Stinkboy and I were accosted: “Sir? Sir, can I ask you a question?” Jr. and I turned to survey the longhaired clipboard-toting gentleman inquiring after us. Stinkboy saw him and simply shook his head. I was quickly prepared to give the brush off (politely though) to the freak of a then still undetermined type (CEO’s brain: So what’s his bag? Bunny hugger? Keen on Jesus? Worried about the whales? Equal rights for women? My money’s on the bunnies — let’s see.) It was at this point that that hippie made my day: Sir, can I talk to you about Merxxcorps*? I don’t know what he thought when I immediately burst out laughing, but eventually I said to him Yes, yes you can! I told him about the Chief Bride and asked him if he’d ever heard of her. The predictable answer? He hadn’t. In and of itself this means nothing of course but it’s just one more piece of evidence to add to the growing pile. Merxxcorps: supplying cover stories for clandestine operatives since 1979! I wonder if those two are really on a cruise this week? I’m thinking that some sort of True Lies style scenario is going down here, only with the Chief Educator in the Jamie Lee Curtis role. I call dibs on being Tom Arnold.

* Name of actual organization slightly changed to protect certain parties.

This is not the sort of article one likes to see when they are planning on hatching a child at St. Vincent next month. Hopefully Tank remembers to wash his hands a lot:

Baby dies at Portland hospital after exposure to staph bacteria in ICU
BEAVERTON — One baby died at Providence St. Vincent Hospital after being exposed to a staph bacteria in the neonatal intensive care unit, officials said Friday. Hospital officials said the staph infection was a “contributing factor” in the infant’s death. The bacteria was detected during a routine inspection; doctors began treating a group of babies Thursday night. There were 46 babies in the unit at the time. Fourteen of the babies were identified as having the bacteria on their skin or in their nose or mouth. The baby that died was the only one identified as having the bacteria in his or her bloodstream. “They [neonatal babies] are very fragile and they can get sick very easily,” said Marcia Tolmasoff, Director of the NICU at Providence St. Vincent.

A few siblings of Kjel.org should read the following story. If they can, that is:

Research Finds Firstborns Gain the Higher I.Q.
The eldest children in families tend to develop higher I.Q.’s than their siblings, researchers are reporting today, in a large study that could settle more than a half-century of scientific debate about the relationship between I.Q. and birth order.

The CEO, CFO, and now, the Jr. VP. It’s a tough job being the smartest sibling, but I know Stinkboy will be able to handle it.

The CEO is back from Gotham City, but just barely: I nearly died on the cab ride from my hotel to La Guardia. It was awesome. Full trip update tomorrow or Sun.

For today though, check out this nice little write up in the Seattle PI of a certain fish and crab place I’m familiar with.

The CEO is off to New York tomorrow, early. Hopefully not so early that I am out of gas for this tomorrow night, but possibly so. Free appetizers and an open bar? I have a feeling I’ll rally. I don’t really have any time for sight seeing while I am out there, but maybe I’ll be able to squeeze in one or two historic sites. I’ll report on the trip as able, unless certain Gozer related difficulties make that impossible.

I hit the CFO with the Suby today. Accidentally, of course. Good thing she is well padded in the front right now or else it could have been serious. As it was it was plenty to scare the bejesus out of her, and another guy (the witness to potentially eliminate later as I immediately classified him in my head) in the Starbucks parking lot. She still bought me coffee, so it couldn’t have affected her too much. CFO, I am sorry, and you can run me over whenever you want and I won’t hold it against you.

30 minutes or less or the streets will flow with the blood of the infidel!

The CEO is flying to NYC next week on business. I booked my flight a few months back, but some recent changes suggest that I should spend a longer time in New York than I had planned to. Today I looked at getting a ticket that had me leaving PDX on Monday instead of Tuesday: an additional $1200 on top of what I’d already paid. I think New York will have to do without me until Tuesday night. I hope it’s OK with that.

Kids these days:

Naked couple in SUV arrested, accused of drinking, “embracing” on I-90
When the trooper saw the Ford Explorer drifting across Interstate 90 in Bellevue, he assumed it was yet another drunk driver.But when he walked up to the car at 1:20 a.m. last Friday, he was greeted by a naked couple trying to stash an empty wine bottle, according to the State Patrol.The 20-year-old woman in the passenger seat quickly grabbed a T-shirt to cover up, but the 19-year-old man driving didn’t flinch, said State Patrol spokesman Jeff Merrill. They said they were driving back from Snoqualmie Falls. . . Merrill said it appears the couple were engaging in some sort of “physical act.” “There were some acts of physical intimacy going on in the vehicle that were best saved for not driving down the freeway,” Merrill said.

The Chiefs Bride and Educator have not asked for my help in planning their wedding. I wonder why not?

Why don’t you two just relax and let me and the Man from the Dalles plan your wedding? Everything will be fine. Fucking more than ever.

Usually when the CEO gets home from work I have the Jr. VP in the car with me. I park, go get the mail and then the two of us go inside. Pretty normal stuff. But not yesterday. No, Yesterday, there was an incident: the annual Spring Offensive had begun.

As the boy was watching, I pulled a stack of mail from the box. I didn’t really look at it at first, but then I felt something on my hand. Insurgents! In ant form! I let out a startled yelp and dropped the mail, trying to brush about two dozen of the little black bastards off my hand and arm. The Jr. VP laughed and laughed. No one but me gets to make me look stupid in front of the boy! No one that the CEO can legally poison to death anyway.

After getting the boy safely inside I went out to the armory (what the CFO would call the garage or the car-hold) and selected a trusty can of Bayer ™ brand bug poison (Now with extra deltamethrin!) from the arsenal. Duly armed, I went to confront the enemy. It was an unmitigated success. Ringing in their tiny, tiny ears at the very end: the CEO screaming “Die bitches!!” as I pumped enough poison through the mail slot to kill at least four dumptruck loads of ants. At this point I’d like to take the opportunity to thank those neighbors who maybe thought about calling the police right then but didn’t. And for those that did, know that the CEO has a long, long memory. Unless inhaling large doses of deltamethrin causes memory loss, in which case you’ll get off scot-free.

June 11th? Why it’s King Kamehameha Day! Started in 1871. Also on this date:

1509 England’s King Henry VIII married Catherine of Aragon.

1776 The Continental Congress formed a committee to draft a Declaration of Independence from Britain.

1963 Buddhist monk Quang Duc immolated himself on a Saigon street to protest the government of South Vietnamese President Ngo Dinh Diem.

1963 Gov. George Wallace confronted federal troops at the University of Alabama in an effort to defy a federal court order to allow two blacks to enroll at the school.

1973 Future CEO of Kjel.org is born. Sky reportedly goes dark over most of North America.

1977 Seattle Slew won the Belmont Stakes, capturing the Triple Crown.

1979 Actor John Wayne died at age 72.

1987 Margaret Thatcher became the first British prime minister in 160 years to win a third consecutive term in office.

1990 The Supreme Court struck down a federal law prohibiting desecration of the American flag.

1996 Sen. Bob Dole, R-Kan., left the Senate to concentrate on his campaign for the presidency.

2004 The nation bade farewell to former President Ronald Reagan at a stately funeral in Washington, D.C. Hours later he was laid to rest in California.

Ichiro commenting in the Seattle Times today about the team’s detour to Cleveland to make up a cancelled game:

The Mariners were clearly not thrilled with the detour before opening a three-game series against the Chicago Cubs on Tuesday. “To tell the truth, I’m not excited to go to Cleveland, but we have to,” Ichiro said through an interpreter. “If I ever saw myself saying I’m excited going to Cleveland, I’d punch myself in the face, because I’m lying.”

The Jr. VP has taken to pretending that he is a puppy, whether he is wearing the puppy suit or not. He likes to bark, run around on all fours, and stick his tongue out and pant. The best part (in my view anyway; the CFO might disagree) is that he likes to eat without using his hands, instead sticking his face into his bowl or plate and chowing down. This doesn’t make a mess, no not at all. Well, actually it does, distressing Mommy, but it’s also very funny and the boy knows it so I don’t expect it to stop any time soon.

On the way home tonight I am going to pick him up a snack:

There are certain words that you just can’t say around the Jr. VP. It’s only common sense not swear around a 2.4 year old who likes to repeat things at the top of his lungs; even after the Jr. VP went to bed last night I continued to spell the bad words. I didn’t want to offend the CFO after all, as I was saying very very bad words.

There are also words that one cannot say because they remind the lad of something that he’d rather be doing, and then he gets upset that he’s not doing it. The perfect example of this is the word “park.” If Jr. hears the word he immediately thinks of slides and swings and wants to go, and unless you are then and there prepared to take him to a park he will be most unhappy with you. For a long time the CFO and I could simply spell out words like that instead of speaking them, but the lad is too smart. Hell, the other night the CFO said something about the C-A-M-E-R-A and Jr starting yelling Camera! Camera! Freaked out the both us a little bit, though I’m not yet ready to think that Stinkboy can now actually spell.

So now, maybe on a Saturday morning, I have to say something like this to the CFO: Perhaps we should go to the cleared out grassy area featuring suspended seats on chains and the tall slippery metallic thingies? * Talking like this currently gives us an option to go or not go to the park without the associated tantrum risk. This works for now, but again, I fear the Jr. VP’s brain. The CFO and I really need to come up soon with a system of code words and ciphers.

* Describing a playground slide to an extent that someone will know what in the hell you are talking about without actually using the word “slide” is more difficult than you might think.

There is a new rule at the Kjel.org HQ: unless you are discussing your recent trip to France and describing where you stayed, if you say the words “Paris Hilton” the CEO gets to hit you with a stick.

The headline could (no, should) actually read: Retired Marine and Man with Kick-Ass Wife Halt Jack-Assery on Flight.

Graying duo keep passenger in check
Shortly before landing, Bob Hayden and a flight attendant had agreed on a signal: When she waved the plastic handcuffs, he would discreetly leave his seat and restrain an unruly passenger who had frightened some of the 150 people on board a Minneapolis-to-Boston flight Saturday night with erratic behavior. Hayden, a 65-year-old former police commander, had enlisted a gray-haired gentleman sitting next to him to assist. The man turned out to be a former US Marine. “I had looked around the plane for help, and all the younger guys had averted their eyes. When I asked the guy next to me if he was up to it, all he said was, ‘Retired captain. USMC.’ I said, ‘You’ll do,’ ” Hayden recalled. “So, basically, a couple of grandfathers took care of the situation.”
. . .
The incident on Northwest Airlines Flight 720 ended peacefully, but not before Hayden, a former Boston police deputy superintendent and former Lawrence police chief, and the retired Marine had handcuffed one man and stood guard over another until the plane touched down safely at Logan International Airport around 7:50 p.m.
. . .
When the captain announced preparations for landing, the man jumped up shouting, the flight attendant held up the handcuffs, and Hayden and the Marine came bounding down the aisle. Hayden said he and the retired Marine, whose name he never got, received an ovation from fellow passengers, and “some free air miles.” Hayden’s wife of 42 years, Katie, who was also on the flight, was less impressed. Even as her husband struggled with the agitated passenger, she barely looked up from “The Richest Man in Babylon,” the book she was reading. “The woman sitting in front of us was very upset and asked me how I could just sit there reading,” Katie Hayden said. “Bob’s been shot at. He’s been stabbed. He’s taken knives away. He knows how to handle those situations. I figured he would go up there and step on somebody’s neck, and that would be the end of it. I knew how that situation would end. I didn’t know how the book would end.”

That is one hell of a woman. While I like Bob, I hope he realizes just how absolutely awesome his wife is. The CFO (as far as I know) rarely considers that I am may just go “step on somebody’s neck”, and if for some reason she did think I was about to do that, I have a feeling she’d at least take some level of interest in it.

A fine way to start today:

Overturned semi truck puts the brakes on morning I-5 commute
PORTLAND, Ore. - A semi with a heavy load of spooled steel overturned in the northbound lanes of Interstate 5 Thursday morning, creating a massive traffic headache for commuters just as the morning rush hour got underway. The truck accident shut off the northbound lanes of the freeway completely in an area known for accidents and overturns. The truck was reportedly carrying 20 tons of steel. ODOT officials called in heavy lift tow trucks to move the big rig and shut down I-5 at several points in order to divert drivers around the accident. The condition of the truck driver has not been released.

I know something about his condition anyway: I gave that a-hole the finger as I finally went past him on Barbur this morning.

About a week or two ago I was standing in my kitchen, watching the CFO sit out in the sun on a lawn chair, while the Jr. VP played with some big Legos in the front room, and I thought You know what, this is not so bad.

My birthday is coming up, and at my age I’m about due for an early-midlife crisis. Small problem: Crisis? [earmuffs Jr!] Fuck that. I am going soft from lack of crisis if anything; it’s certainly a pleasant softness though.

Consider the CEO’s predicament:

1. I’m stuck with a wife I love more all the time, and I doubt strongly that that curve ever changes.

2. The two of us have been cursed with a son who routinely lives up to the nickname Best Boy in Town, and we got another one coming in case you haven’t heard or noticed.

3. I put up with relatives on both sides that are great and love Kjel.org.

4. Kjel.org somehow finds a way to tolerate all of it’s great friends and wellwishers.

5. I toil away at a well-paying job that I like and am fortunate to have. To paraphrase one of the most important men in the Jr. VP’s life : God gave us the domain names, now it’s my job to make them dance!

Being this happy makes me nervous. I don’t believe in kharma which is good, because if I did I’d have a horrible feeling that I am right now living in the “comes around” part of things, and I’d be really worried about the forthcoming “goes around” part. As it is, the CEO is just gonna keep on keepin’ on, and ride this wave as long as he can. Wish me luck.

The CEO has several screens in his brain on which different memories are continuously looped. One such loop is dedicated to The Simpsons. This particular scene just played out, and it reminded me why I identify with Homer so much:

(Homer is outside next to a mound of stolen sugar, half asleep with a club)
Homer (sleepily): “Must…protect…sugar…thieves everywhere. The strong must protect the sweet…the sweet…” (falls asleep)
Marge: “Homer?”
Homer (with a Spanish accent): “In America, first you get the sugar, then you get the power, then you get the women…” (snores)
Marge :”Homer…Homer!”
Homer: “Wha…what?”
Marge: “I want you to forget about guarding the stupid sugar! You’re being completely paranoid.”
Homer: “Oh, am I? Am I really? Aha!” (pulls a man out of his sugar)
Sugar Thief: “Hello…”
Homer: “All right, pal, where’d you get the sugar for that tea?”
Sugar Thief: “I nicked it when you let your guard down for that split second…and I’d do it again.” (sips his tea) “Goodbye.”
Homer: “You see, Marge? Do you see?”
Marge: “Homer, when are you going to give up this crazy sugar scheme?”
Homer: “Never, Marge! Never. I can’t live the button-down life like you. I want it all: the terrifying lows, the dizzying highs, the creamy middles. Sure, I might offend a few of the bluenoses with my cocky stride and musky odor. Oh, I’ll never be the darling of the so called “City Fathers” who cluck their tongues, stroke their beards, and talk about “What’s to be done with this Homer Simpson?”
Marge: “Look, just get rid of the sugar, okay?”
Homer: “No!”
(Marge leaves)
(a swarm of bees lands on Homer’s sugar pile)
Homer “Aah! Hey, get off my sugar. Bad bees! Bad!” (get’s stung) “Ow. Oww! Oh, they’re defending themselves somehow.”

Here’s why: Giant robots fighting.

The lad likes the movie Finding Nemo, and will yell “Nemo!” any time he sees a fish. I don’t mind at all having him watch that movie as much as he wants to. A story about a heroic Daddy busting ass to save the day if the lad ever really gets in trouble is one that I can get behind. Except that now there is a small problem:

We were watching “Deadliest Catch” on Discovery channel the other afternoon and saw what happened to a big fish that got stuck in a crab pot. Let’s just say that that fishy’s final reckoning was not something you’ll ever see in a Disney movie. A little voice: “Nemo OK?” Oh no — son of a. . . Dammit. The lad and I had to have a quick conversation about the differences between “friendly fish” (aka Nemo), and “tasty fish” (aka the halibut he saw meet its end on TV yesterday).

Going forward I’m certainly not going to let him watch any shows about traditional cuisine in China.

In China they eat what? Even the little ones? Dalmations too? Uh oh.

Someone in Kjel.org thinks that they are a character in Home Alone. Or possibly Home Alone 2.

You are a good boy Jr., but you are no Macaulay Culkin. Daddy loves you anyway.

The Jr. VP sometimes gets tired of being called out on Kjel.org so often. My standard reponse to him is “If you don’t like it, start your own website.” I’ve no doubt that one day he will, but his response in the meantime:

Daddy, you have defamed me on the internet for the last time! Prepare sir to defend yourself!

Sorry about the recent slowdown in content; the CEO has been just a little bit busy, with, er, other things.