So my brother Justin got back from his second tour in Iraq, dropped his paperwork to get out of the Army, moved to Austin, and has started making his first film. It's a documentary about traumatic brain injury in soldiers returning from the war. His website went live a couple of weeks ago, but he just got some of the final kinks worked out of it recently. The movie is called "Along Recovery" and he's in the early production stages right now. Go to the site and you can watch a 5-minute preview reel. It's not like you don't have 5 minutes to spare if you're reading this drivel.
If you really want to "support our troops", then go to his Donate page and cough up a few shekels. Justin's a 2-time veteran who's trying to tell a story about this war and the thousands of unsung soldiers that will bear a lifetime of pain and suffering for their actions downrange.
Or you could just buy a "We support our troops" yellow ribbon magnet to stick on the back of your SUV. I know I feel totally supported when you do that. /sarcasm
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Fixed that for you
I was checking my mail this afternoon at the post office. Nothing special. On my way out the door I spotted this sign and it stopped me cold.
"Consistent Excellence"? O RLY? Of all the phrases to misspell, they had to pick that one.
If it's hard to make out what's going on in that picture, I'll spell it out for you. They've misspelled "consistent" as "consistant". Fortunately, some brave typo corrector has placed a small piece of tape over the offending A and written a little E on it. Disaster averted!
"Consistent Excellence"? O RLY? Of all the phrases to misspell, they had to pick that one.
If it's hard to make out what's going on in that picture, I'll spell it out for you. They've misspelled "consistent" as "consistant". Fortunately, some brave typo corrector has placed a small piece of tape over the offending A and written a little E on it. Disaster averted!
Monday, August 25, 2008
This Job Stinks
Alternate Title: "This Place is (near) the Dumps"
So I work in a dump. And by that I don't mean that things are worn and/or broken down around my office. I mean that there is a dump right outside the place that I work. It's not a straight up "landfill", but it's pretty close. Here's the bird's eye with my office in relation to the dump. My office is the helicopter, the dump is the red hazard sign. After that is a close-up of the dump itself. Pretty good resolution around here. You can almost see the rats.
View Larger Map
View Larger Map
Anyway, I'm about 3/4 of a mile from the dump and on a hot day (like today), you'd think it was right out my window. For some reason, the wind almost always blows northeast around here, placing us upwind from the stench.
Let's say you lived and worked in the dump, or perhaps a sewage treatment plant. So every minute of every living day you'd smell the unrelenting stink of decaying refuse and/or human feces. After a certain period of time, you've got to become immune to it, right? The same way that you don't notice the smell of your house unless you leave on an extended vacation, then come back to realize that your house has a particular odor that you've just gotten used to. In the same vein, the stench of crap and trash would just become part of your smell landscape. You'd stop noticing it. Assuming that to be the case, then would you every think anything smells bad? If you forget to take out your trash, or an egg rolls under your counter and starts rotting, would you notice the smell? Would a different kind of stench register with you, like a skunk? Or would your sense of smell just become dulled? Would you be able to enjoy a pleasant smell, like fresh baked bread or flowers, while living in the foul air everyday?
It doesn't smell bad enough here for me to conduct an objective observation, but maybe I can get the Germans who work at the dump to help me out.
So I work in a dump. And by that I don't mean that things are worn and/or broken down around my office. I mean that there is a dump right outside the place that I work. It's not a straight up "landfill", but it's pretty close. Here's the bird's eye with my office in relation to the dump. My office is the helicopter, the dump is the red hazard sign. After that is a close-up of the dump itself. Pretty good resolution around here. You can almost see the rats.
View Larger Map
View Larger Map
Anyway, I'm about 3/4 of a mile from the dump and on a hot day (like today), you'd think it was right out my window. For some reason, the wind almost always blows northeast around here, placing us upwind from the stench.
Let's say you lived and worked in the dump, or perhaps a sewage treatment plant. So every minute of every living day you'd smell the unrelenting stink of decaying refuse and/or human feces. After a certain period of time, you've got to become immune to it, right? The same way that you don't notice the smell of your house unless you leave on an extended vacation, then come back to realize that your house has a particular odor that you've just gotten used to. In the same vein, the stench of crap and trash would just become part of your smell landscape. You'd stop noticing it. Assuming that to be the case, then would you every think anything smells bad? If you forget to take out your trash, or an egg rolls under your counter and starts rotting, would you notice the smell? Would a different kind of stench register with you, like a skunk? Or would your sense of smell just become dulled? Would you be able to enjoy a pleasant smell, like fresh baked bread or flowers, while living in the foul air everyday?
It doesn't smell bad enough here for me to conduct an objective observation, but maybe I can get the Germans who work at the dump to help me out.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Jokes and Jokes and Jokes and Jokes
Joel says a lot of really funny things when we're just hanging out at home, alone, with no audience, so I wanted to give him some credit. Here's what you've all been missing out on while he's stuck in the Army instead of on his comedy club tour.
Last night, I was reading a guidebook for our upcoming trip to France. Innocently, I decided to share some interesting information with Joel, and this is the following dialog:
me: Joel, it says here that if the royal family of Monaco runs out of male heirs, the country will become part of France again.
Joel: Yeah, I already knew that.
me: What?! WHERE did you possibly hear that, Monaco Heirs Magazine??
Joel: No, I think it was Modern Male Heirs of Monaco Monthly Magazine. Or, M²HM³.
Ha ha! It turns out that he was thinking of something else I told him (see, I'm, full of information!) about San Marino, an Italian microstate. I had heard somewhere that the country was full of wealthy old men, and that the government had made some restrictions about the men marrying foreign gold-digging women. However, I did not find any support for this online, so it's probably fake. Oh, well.
Last night, I was reading a guidebook for our upcoming trip to France. Innocently, I decided to share some interesting information with Joel, and this is the following dialog:
me: Joel, it says here that if the royal family of Monaco runs out of male heirs, the country will become part of France again.
Joel: Yeah, I already knew that.
me: What?! WHERE did you possibly hear that, Monaco Heirs Magazine??
Joel: No, I think it was Modern Male Heirs of Monaco Monthly Magazine. Or, M²HM³.
Ha ha! It turns out that he was thinking of something else I told him (see, I'm, full of information!) about San Marino, an Italian microstate. I had heard somewhere that the country was full of wealthy old men, and that the government had made some restrictions about the men marrying foreign gold-digging women. However, I did not find any support for this online, so it's probably fake. Oh, well.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Uncle Rico? Is that you?
How much you wanna make a bet I can throw a football over them mountains?
I was riding my bike home when I passed this van. I got about 50 feet down the road before I realized that I had better take a picture or it was going to be near impossible to describe it properly. I mean, where do you even start?
"It's a purple van, but it's got this crazy custom paint job and it looks like it's busting through a wall. But for some reason there's a girl sprawled across the hood. Except she's a ghost or something, because she doesn't have any legs. Oh, and she's got claws like Wolverine. And then on the sides there's some graphic design like a blue lightning bolt mixed with a checkered flag, 'cause this sweet ride is taking the pole position."
I have no other explaination other than, "WTF Germany!"
I was riding my bike home when I passed this van. I got about 50 feet down the road before I realized that I had better take a picture or it was going to be near impossible to describe it properly. I mean, where do you even start?
"It's a purple van, but it's got this crazy custom paint job and it looks like it's busting through a wall. But for some reason there's a girl sprawled across the hood. Except she's a ghost or something, because she doesn't have any legs. Oh, and she's got claws like Wolverine. And then on the sides there's some graphic design like a blue lightning bolt mixed with a checkered flag, 'cause this sweet ride is taking the pole position."
I have no other explaination other than, "WTF Germany!"
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Germany WTF??!?
So I've been thinking about splitting off and starting a new blog that focuses on the wacky and f-ed up things that we come across in Germany. Jessica talked me out of it, but I'd like to submit this finding to our audience.
We live in Mannheim and it's a good sized city. We get pretty big-name bands coming through here. REM, Linkin Park, Stevie Wonder. So there's no shortage of the band posters around the streets advertising the shows that are coming up. Now, every band that comes around can't be REM. There's got to be some B-listers that come through M-town too. And those B-listers have their own posters plastered around town as well. And this post is about one of them.
So apparently there's a German techno group floating around called Lexy and K-Paul. Let me start by saying that I'm not a "techno" guy. I don't really "get" it. I've tried to listen to it, and I enjoy it on a extremely superficial level. I can dance to it, but I couldn't tell you the first thing about house, jungle, drum & bass, trance, etc. I know there's supposed to be some sort of distinction between those, and even with the great B.K. trying to explain it to me, I'm totally at a loss to tell the difference. That being said, these two clowns may be the next greatest techno DJ group to come out of Germany. But I doubt it.
Anyway, they're coming to Mannheim soon. And there's these posters up all over town hawking their show. The picture on this poster has really bugged me for the last couple of days. I don't get what it is they're going for. I've got the picture, minus all the show data. I guess it came off their latest CD "Ponyboy".
Why are they in their underwear? Why are they wearing feathered headbands? Why (and this might be the part that I don't understand the most) are they in that ridiculous "prancing" pose? Are they gay? That would explain a lot, except that I don't think that's the case. I think the explanation is a little case of "WTF Germany"?!?!
We live in Mannheim and it's a good sized city. We get pretty big-name bands coming through here. REM, Linkin Park, Stevie Wonder. So there's no shortage of the band posters around the streets advertising the shows that are coming up. Now, every band that comes around can't be REM. There's got to be some B-listers that come through M-town too. And those B-listers have their own posters plastered around town as well. And this post is about one of them.
So apparently there's a German techno group floating around called Lexy and K-Paul. Let me start by saying that I'm not a "techno" guy. I don't really "get" it. I've tried to listen to it, and I enjoy it on a extremely superficial level. I can dance to it, but I couldn't tell you the first thing about house, jungle, drum & bass, trance, etc. I know there's supposed to be some sort of distinction between those, and even with the great B.K. trying to explain it to me, I'm totally at a loss to tell the difference. That being said, these two clowns may be the next greatest techno DJ group to come out of Germany. But I doubt it.
Anyway, they're coming to Mannheim soon. And there's these posters up all over town hawking their show. The picture on this poster has really bugged me for the last couple of days. I don't get what it is they're going for. I've got the picture, minus all the show data. I guess it came off their latest CD "Ponyboy".
Why are they in their underwear? Why are they wearing feathered headbands? Why (and this might be the part that I don't understand the most) are they in that ridiculous "prancing" pose? Are they gay? That would explain a lot, except that I don't think that's the case. I think the explanation is a little case of "WTF Germany"?!?!
Joey, do you like movies about gladiators?
We've been taking weekend day-trips the past couple of weekends as a way to see a lot of Europe on the cheap. It's been working out pretty good, and we've been able to see the Black Forest, Luxembourg, and now Trier.
Trier is nestled in the south-west corner of Germany, near Luxembourg. It prides itself as being "Germany's Oldest City", claiming to be founded by the Romans in or before 16 BC. That's pre-Jesus!! Every year they host Germany's largest Roman festival during the summer. We saw it mentioned in the local "what's going on" circular that the army puts out for the troops and decided to hit it up.
We arrived in the afternoon and headed toward the old "arena" that dates backs to the Romans. Here's an aerial shot from the Google:
View Larger Map
So we get our tickets and head into the arena. It's pretty cool looking and the only thing really negative about it is that it's filled with Germans. Seriously, they're starting to annoy me with their... German-ness? Even though I usually abhor anecdotal stories to make a judgment over something, I'll relay a little story to you from the Romanfest:
There's a little tent set up where they're selling concessions for the show. Nothing crazy; beers, sodas, fries, brats. The line is about 10 deep, but we're thirsty and I cue up to wait my turn. I get up to the front and I'm about 2 back from ordering. Suddenly, a couple of fat, old Germans (is there any other kind?) sidle up into the line in front of some kids that were in line in front of me. I voice my objection, but they kind of ignore me. Fortunately, who should come to my aid but some oddly-mustached German guy behind me. He had a long waxed mustached, a little like this guy:
So he hears me and reaches over and taps the rude German on the shoulder to get his attention. He yells something to him, I assume about how the line is behind us and who does he think he is to cut in front of us. Fatty acts flustered and pretends that he didn't know that he was supposed to be in line. This is a classic German move that they pull if you catch them doing something that they shouldn't. So finally the line moves forward and we get up to the front. As the girl at the counter is finishing up with the last order, I quickly jump the gun and yell my order at her before she has the chance to ask. It kind of throws the counter girl and the fatty off. She looks at fatty, as if to say "who's next?" Fatty insists that he's the next guy in line but I interrupt him and tell the counter girl that I am indeed next guy in line since fatty cut in. My good looks and confidence played out, and the girl serves me my drink. Better luck next time, fattius!
So once we get to our seats and settles, the show starts. Now, we had been hyping up this show to Aidan for a couple of days. We were telling him about gladiators and all the fighting that was going to be going on during this "Gladiatorial Spectacular" (That's what they billed it as on their website!). But when the show starts, there's a couple of things wrong. 1) There's no gladiators anywhere to be seen. Just some dudes in Roman robes. 2) They're speaking German. I totally understand that I'm in Germany, and that's to be expected. However, I wasn't expecting this to be a drama of some sort with lots of dialog to shift through. I just wanted to go in and see some gladiator fights. 3) Holy shit, it's 15 minutes into this thing and they've had a freaking musical number, but not one gladiator.
Aidan is starting to get antsy. "Where's the fighting?," he wants to know. "It's coming, just be patient," I try to assure him. But I'm getting a little worried myself. It's only a matter of time before he starts to hit me with the dreaded, "This is BORING!"
Fortunately, the fates smile on us and out come about 10 or 15 gladiators. I'll give it to them, they're costumes were pretty cool. So finally, they start with some fighting and Aidan is satisfied. They started with some practice bouts, with wooden swords, and then worked up to the full armor and swords. I managed to get some pretty decent video of the matches. Just so you know, the music wasn't my addition; that's what they were playing there.
Trier is nestled in the south-west corner of Germany, near Luxembourg. It prides itself as being "Germany's Oldest City", claiming to be founded by the Romans in or before 16 BC. That's pre-Jesus!! Every year they host Germany's largest Roman festival during the summer. We saw it mentioned in the local "what's going on" circular that the army puts out for the troops and decided to hit it up.
We arrived in the afternoon and headed toward the old "arena" that dates backs to the Romans. Here's an aerial shot from the Google:
View Larger Map
So we get our tickets and head into the arena. It's pretty cool looking and the only thing really negative about it is that it's filled with Germans. Seriously, they're starting to annoy me with their... German-ness? Even though I usually abhor anecdotal stories to make a judgment over something, I'll relay a little story to you from the Romanfest:
There's a little tent set up where they're selling concessions for the show. Nothing crazy; beers, sodas, fries, brats. The line is about 10 deep, but we're thirsty and I cue up to wait my turn. I get up to the front and I'm about 2 back from ordering. Suddenly, a couple of fat, old Germans (is there any other kind?) sidle up into the line in front of some kids that were in line in front of me. I voice my objection, but they kind of ignore me. Fortunately, who should come to my aid but some oddly-mustached German guy behind me. He had a long waxed mustached, a little like this guy:
So he hears me and reaches over and taps the rude German on the shoulder to get his attention. He yells something to him, I assume about how the line is behind us and who does he think he is to cut in front of us. Fatty acts flustered and pretends that he didn't know that he was supposed to be in line. This is a classic German move that they pull if you catch them doing something that they shouldn't. So finally the line moves forward and we get up to the front. As the girl at the counter is finishing up with the last order, I quickly jump the gun and yell my order at her before she has the chance to ask. It kind of throws the counter girl and the fatty off. She looks at fatty, as if to say "who's next?" Fatty insists that he's the next guy in line but I interrupt him and tell the counter girl that I am indeed next guy in line since fatty cut in. My good looks and confidence played out, and the girl serves me my drink. Better luck next time, fattius!
So once we get to our seats and settles, the show starts. Now, we had been hyping up this show to Aidan for a couple of days. We were telling him about gladiators and all the fighting that was going to be going on during this "Gladiatorial Spectacular" (That's what they billed it as on their website!). But when the show starts, there's a couple of things wrong. 1) There's no gladiators anywhere to be seen. Just some dudes in Roman robes. 2) They're speaking German. I totally understand that I'm in Germany, and that's to be expected. However, I wasn't expecting this to be a drama of some sort with lots of dialog to shift through. I just wanted to go in and see some gladiator fights. 3) Holy shit, it's 15 minutes into this thing and they've had a freaking musical number, but not one gladiator.
Aidan is starting to get antsy. "Where's the fighting?," he wants to know. "It's coming, just be patient," I try to assure him. But I'm getting a little worried myself. It's only a matter of time before he starts to hit me with the dreaded, "This is BORING!"
Fortunately, the fates smile on us and out come about 10 or 15 gladiators. I'll give it to them, they're costumes were pretty cool. So finally, they start with some fighting and Aidan is satisfied. They started with some practice bouts, with wooden swords, and then worked up to the full armor and swords. I managed to get some pretty decent video of the matches. Just so you know, the music wasn't my addition; that's what they were playing there.
Friday, August 08, 2008
What's Aidan been up to?
Again, funny you should ask!
Here he is, trying to steal Ava's popsicle, after he had finished his own:
We've been going to this summer reading program on post, and as part of it, they had a kids' photography contest. Aidan won third prize, a DVD. Here he is with the post commander and Sargent major, accepting his "Pocahontas" DVD:
Here is the picture that won the prize (it was a bug-themed reading program):
And here he is, pretending to be a very, very serious waiter:
Spending quality time with dad:
Here he is, trying to steal Ava's popsicle, after he had finished his own:
We've been going to this summer reading program on post, and as part of it, they had a kids' photography contest. Aidan won third prize, a DVD. Here he is with the post commander and Sargent major, accepting his "Pocahontas" DVD:
Here is the picture that won the prize (it was a bug-themed reading program):
And here he is, pretending to be a very, very serious waiter:
Spending quality time with dad:
What's Ava been up to?
Funny you should ask! Here is Ava playing with a Fisher Price Little People nursery school:
And we got her a doll, since she was playing with a lot of Aidan's old toys that weren't really girly. She didn't know what to think at first, but she eventually warmed up to the baby:
And finally, two of her eating. She sits in this ridiculous way every time we put her in the high chair, as if the tray were her ottoman. I think she's eating a cupcake in the last one, although I see corn on her, too. So, obviously, we've given up on clothes while eating at home.
And we got her a doll, since she was playing with a lot of Aidan's old toys that weren't really girly. She didn't know what to think at first, but she eventually warmed up to the baby:
And finally, two of her eating. She sits in this ridiculous way every time we put her in the high chair, as if the tray were her ottoman. I think she's eating a cupcake in the last one, although I see corn on her, too. So, obviously, we've given up on clothes while eating at home.
Germans Love Old Stuff
While the Springers were visiting us, we took a drive to a medieval walled city, about 2 hours away, called Rothenburg ob der Tauber. It is really well-preserved, and has lots of cute old buildings. As a side note, it has a famous legend that the French came to burn down the town during the 100 Years War, but the mayor made a wager that he could drink some insane amount of beer, and he did, so the French left the town alone. The main square has a cuckoo clock that reenacts the drinking contest on the hour. (And somehow America is the country with the binge drinking problem?)
My favorite architectural feature- well, decorative architectural feature, if it can even be considered that- is this:
I don't know what is says, but I really like when Germans (and Austrians) have writing on the side of the building. Cute!Aidan made out during his grandparents' trip- they bought him this shield while we were in Spain, and then on this trip we got him the helmet to finish the costume.
This town- like all of Europe, it seems- is famous for its wine, which comes in these funny shaped bottles that are kind of flat and squatty. Here, some enterprising restauranteer has re-purposed them into an..um.. hanging thing:
By the way, now we're thirty!
I took pictures of Joel's birthday, but they didn't amke it up here yet, so, here are some pictures from our birthdays, in March and July.
Close-up of Joel's cake, with candles in the shape of "30":
Aidan's Room
Just a short post to show you Aidan's room. This was really Joel's idea, so give him all the credit for the awesome result!
And here are two cute pictures Aidan drew of robots. Actually, the first one is Iron Man, and the bad guy is holding onto his foot.
And here are two cute pictures Aidan drew of robots. Actually, the first one is Iron Man, and the bad guy is holding onto his foot.
Springer Family Curse
This all started when Joel's parents visited us in Italy. His mom somehow fell and scraped up her legs and arms pretty bad, and had to go to therapy for her wrist, I think. Then, his parents went to a Dave Ramsey financial conference, where someone threw a t-shirt out into the crowd. Jo caught her little finger on it, somehow crushing it, and requiring operations and months of therapy, which are still continuing today. Then, Joel fell while he was riding his bike to work here in Germany, scraping up his palms really, really badly. (On a bright note, he said that one guy at work thought the bandages were from a suicide attempt, ha ha!!) Later that same week, Joel's dad fell riding his bike, and broke his arm and hurt his shoulder pretty badly. Now, this week Joel cut off part of his little finger cutting an onion. Dear God, when will this end!?!
Here is a picture of the RIDICULOUS bandage they put on him at the clinic, complete with a metal splint:
Now, I don't want to alarm anyone, but we WERE living in Italy when this started, so I can only assume that it is due to some sort of elderly Italian woman's curse, or possibly that of a gypsy who was living in Italy. If anyone has any ideas about how to remove ancient curses, please forward your comments to me, here at the blog. Grazie!
Here is a picture of the RIDICULOUS bandage they put on him at the clinic, complete with a metal splint:
Now, I don't want to alarm anyone, but we WERE living in Italy when this started, so I can only assume that it is due to some sort of elderly Italian woman's curse, or possibly that of a gypsy who was living in Italy. If anyone has any ideas about how to remove ancient curses, please forward your comments to me, here at the blog. Grazie!
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