Mindloss

I distinctly remember a couple of days ago thinking "that's a dumb place to put that id badge, I'll never find it there" but then going ahead and putting it "there" anyway.

No idea where it is, and no idea why if I realized that at the time, I ignored my own better judgement.

For effect I was going to add a YouTube video of The Pixies' Where Is My Mind, but then I got lost in the world of horrible video covers of the song. Doing a YouTube search yields a legit Placebo cover, a legit James Blunt cover, and approximately 398 hehfully bad video covers like this one:

Hey dorks, when Frank Black says "Stop", he means you.

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Beware the fingernail man

One of the first things I heard when I got in to my folks' place in Jamestown was that my sister had told her kids I'd be checking their fingernails for length and cleanliness when I saw them. And that if I found them too long I'd trim them myself, and when I do it it's really really painful. All lies. This is how she got her 2 and 3 year old children to agree to let her cut and clean their nails before Thanksgiving dinner. I was more than happy to play along. When they got to the house, I made a show of asking to see their nails, and they thrust their hands out with smiles, so I guess they weren't buying it.

Later I got back at my sister by teaching all three of the kids the phrase "Party Foul!" when the youngest inadvertently smeared ice cream on my shirt. All night and the next day, they'd wait for an opportunity to call it out. I had my suspicions that they had no idea what it meant, but I was told yesterday that when my mom asked my niece what it meant, she said "mistake" without prompting. She's on the ball.

After dinner I parked myself on the floor and got into some serious matchbox cars and action figures action like it was my job. Man I could do that all day. The cool thing was, it was mostly my old matchbox cars. I helped my nephew by playing the part of a passenger as he rolled a backhoe around on the floor and offered rides to the action figures. I think I annoyed him at times by throwing curveballs into his narrative, like when I made my action figure go off to the side to have a "meeting" with other action figures. When my nephew came with the backhoe to pick us up, I told him, "we're in a meeting. would you like to join our meeting?" At one point when he ran my character over by accident, he offered to take him to the doctor. It turned out the doctor in our world works out of a tiny van with the Superman logo on the side of it. He pulled right up to the backhoe and made everything ok.

Being a distance uncle is a good time. You get all of the admiration and fun, but none of the unpleasantness. I felt like the coolest guy in the world, especially when I got to hand out the push-up pops. I told them "when you think of ice cream, think of uncle Dave" as I filled every hand with delicious iced creams. I was all the more a hero as I helped them push their pops up to get more of the ice cream out. As Lester Burnham said when he scored that car in American Beauty, I rule.

Another trick I taught them was how to fake an injury as you get WWF wrestling moves perpetrated on you. I whispered into my little nephew's ear "after I do this, walk around holding your back and say 'oh, my back, you hurt my back'". Then I performed a serious atomic drop on him, and on cue he played his part much like you'd see Million Dollar Man Ted DiBiase do back in the day. Though in this case it was accompanied by the wide smile that comes from knowing you're playing a role that's sure to please the crowd, and pulling it off above your grade level. We had a blast with that little routine.

As it turned out, I was also a hero to my parents as I braved the confusing massive remote control that had been programmed to make everything easy. "Ask your father how to work the remote." So I picked it up, pressed two buttons, and had the TV and cable box going strong. "How'd you do that?" my dad asked, and I believe there were actual question marks hovering over his head. Later I showed them how to work the DVR they didn't really know they had. I have to give extremely grateful props to my mom for ordering HBO and On Demand for the few days I was there, so I could catch up on my The Wire. She even stayed up with me way past her bedtime and took in a few episodes of a show that has to be confusing as hell if you haven't watched it from the start. I think she liked it.

My dad and I bonded over raising a "Raider Nation" flag on a serious, heavy duty, commercial-weight flagpole of the kind you might see in the training ground scenes of any Police Academy movie.

Few more memories to add, but that's it for now.

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43 Showers: Jamestown, RI

This is in the guest bathroom of my parents' place in Jamestown. They just renovated so all of the fixtures are new. It's hard to make out in the photo, but there are little red dots on the right and little blue dots on the left. It lost some points on initial usage because it wasn't clear you had to turn the handle past cold to get to the hot, but once I figured that out it was all good. Apparently the shower control apparatus in the main bathroom is quite impressive. I'll have to snap a photo of that one next time I'm in town.

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Nomah, sigh.

I was in a thrift shop in Warwick, RI over the weekend and spotted a genuine Majestic brand Nomar #5 Red Sox T-shirt in Medium, in blue. It's pre-owned of course, but there are no stains, rips, or signs of being stretched out of proportion. In fact, it's perfectly broken in. In case you've never been to Fenway, this style and manufacturer is the standard issue Sox fan shirt — number on the front, surname on the back. In Nomar's heyday, this was the shirt of shirts.

The price as marked at Savers? $1.99. There's no way it'd fit me, but I had some odd compulsion to save it from the anonymous racks. And so I did. No idea what I'll do with it though.

Maybe it'll be worth something to a vintage shop down here, or i could use it as a glass slipper and when I find the woman who it fits like a glove, I'll know she's the one.

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