when in santa fe on our holiday we stayed with another family. they had four kids. all but one was older than our kids, their oldest months from driving. one day while we were lazing about i asked the kids if there was a rule in their house they didn't like. after about thirty seconds the fifteen year old boy excitedly answered, "yes, the like jar was pretty lame." his sister immediately seconded the thought. i asked what the like jar was and before my sentiment was even complete, their mother groaned and her head sagged and to avoid her children's editorial she confessed the following, "i just couldn't take it anymore. the word like. it was constant. each and every sentence out of anyones mouth was peppered with five or seven or more likes. it was maddening. so i made a rule that every time someone said the word like in conversation and not in meaning they had to pay the like jar." her son then brightly added, "but it happened so often that mom couldn't keep after us about it and it died after, like, a day or two." i smiled at his enthusiasm as well as his slipping a 'like' into his taunt.

i said to the mother she should have promised them each fifty dollars at the end of the month but each time they said like, the month-end booty dropped a buck. with this she eyed the kids and with that they stopped smiling. or stopped smiling so obviously at least.

yesterday was bella's second to last day working at the horse farm this summer. before leaving the house we were fighting, unsuccessfully, with the zipper to one of her riding boots. she told me i should use a pair of pliers and that's what the boy at the farm did. what boy is that i asked. she said it was julie's son. i asked who julie was. bella said i paused from my work on the zipper to look at bella. i told her that is one of the finest descriptions of a human i've ever heard, that wasn't in a book at least. bella just shrugged her shoulders and looked back to the zipper. then i did too and that was that.

it seems nick-naming everyone may have a genetic component in that bella has taken to applying monikers to her own world. most notably last week a group of kids at school she calls the hannah montana girls. and for added bite, not all of them are girls.

recently bella made a comment about going to another school. when marty asked why she wanted to change bella said it was to get away from the hannah montana girls. marty paused from what she was doing, turned to bella and explained that there was no getting away from the hannah montana girls because every school had them. they are everywhere. by the dour look on bella's face you would have thought marty just told her there was no santa, cuddly puppies, or music-playing ice cream trucks. she was struck completely dumb.

and as i think i've noted before, bella calls grown up hannah montana girls, decorated ladies. and like their younger counterparts, there's no getting away from them either.

bella told marty that a boy in her class said she (bella) was hot. marty asked bella what she thought that meant. bella thought for a moment before saying she thought it meant he liked the way she looked. marty agreed that that was probably what it meant but the problem is that it didn't take into account her spirit and there are lots of folks who look good, great even, that lie and cheat and are mean to those around them so how they look is irrelevant and what matters is how beautiful their spirit is.

bella came home from school the next day and reported that the boy liked her spirit too.

at a weeknight dinner last week bella informed the table that our family needed a password. when asked what this was she went on to say that it's a secret word only our family knows and would use if we, the parents, sent someone to pick one of the children up. like if bella was walking home from school and someone pulled up saying, "bella, your mother asked that i take you home today." bella would ask them what the password was. if they knew it she would go with them. if they didn't she would not. this led to a lengthy discussion about what to do if the person didn't know the password. i suggested if the person was in a car, the child should turn and walk in the opposite direction and go to the closest home of someone we knew and ask for help. bella then asked what to do if someone didn't ask anything but just grabbed her. marty said, very succinctly, that she gave bella and alex full permission to do whatever they could to get away. kick, claw, bite, scream, punch, gouge eyes, you name it you can do it. bella then thoughtfully ranked her skills saying she was a great pincher and could kick hard and yell "YOU'RE NOT MY FATHER! THIS IS NOT MY FATHER!" louder than anyone else in the family. then she looked at alex and said "and alex is a great biter, especially with his zombie tooth." marty and i both turned our eyes to bella and said in unison "zombie tooth?" bella, getting her next bite of food together, said "yeah, his zombie tooth. that broken one in the front."

this would be his front-left tooth which bit the dust a few years back when bella, alex and i were leaving the pool. i mummy-wrapped a shivering alex in an adult sized beach towel and told him to follow me. when he took his first step, his feet got tangled in the towel and he fell forward. because his arms were pinned inside the towel given the snug wrap job i had done on him, the first thing to hit the pool-deck was his nose, the second was that unfortunate front tooth. when i picked him up he was a bloody mess and i didn't learn the extent of the damage until i delivered him to marty at home, still quite bloody. in the midst of her first aid she looked up and said "troy, his tooth is chipped." marty's a tooth-girl and was quite, well, pissed that i had wrecked her first-born son. she hot-lined the dentist and asked if there was anything we could do. while she was on the phone i was holding the still sobbing alex. she started relaying questions the doctor was asking. is it just the one tooth? is the gum-line bleeding? what color is the tooth?

MARTY
can you see a bloody-pulp?

TROY
a bloody what?

MARTY (to the phone)
did you say bloody pulp? yes. where?

TROY
marty, i think i'm going to puke.

MARTY
troy. look at the tooth. where it broke. are there blood and veins and stuff coming out of it?

TROY
oh my god, marty. tell them they're going to make me puke.

MARTY
just look at the damn tooth troy! is there a bloody pulp or not!?!?

there was no bloody-pulp on the tooth which kept my puke-free streak alive. seeing how upset marty was through the rest of the evening, the next morning on my way to work i stopped at the pool and found the missing tooth piece. i put it in my pocket where it lived all day at work. when i got home i told marty to hold out her hand and dropped the little shard into it. she called the doctor back and told them we had the tooth chip asking if they, or we, could glue it back on. they said they could but didn't recommend it saying the cement would age and it would break off at some point probably when the child was eating and he would then swallow it. by the time marty told me this news i said that was good because i forgot i put the tooth back in my shirt pocket and sent it through the washer. even though it wasn't of use, marty was non-plussed about my losing alex's tooth a second time.

marty can sometimes not see the bright side of a situation, like how her son now has a cool and jazzy weapon against would-be kidnappers; his razor-sharp and smart-looking zombie tooth.

a neighbor-lady speaking about a business transaction that almost happened

if you found the videos from yesterday's post at all compelling, this one will topple you. one thing to know before watching ... the slow-mo deal about mid-way through is not the camera, it is the guy.


click to jump

click to jump

and if you liked that, here is another one by the same guy.

click to jump

bella has candy hidden all over the house. if we serve a meal she is not interested in, she will sit down at the table, make a face and oftentimes groan in some exaggerated way. soon after this she will ask to be excused. we offer her an alternative such as yogurt, fruit or a muffin to which she will many times decline. we remind her that this is dinner and the kitchen is closed afterwards. she nods in understanding and repeats her request to be excused. we thank her for joining us and send her on her way.

then in-between conversation points you may hear from the next room cellophane being opened or paper being torn. this is bella hitting one of her many candy stashes. we call her back to the table. when she arrives the smell from her sugar of choice is in the air. we explain that eating candy in private is not a healthy or honest choice and that if she is hungry she needs to eat something more substantial. after tolerating the advice, she smiles broadly, claims that she has had enough dinner and confidently asks, can i have dessert now?

before running out the door one morning i was sent upstairs to get a replacement dress for one that got soiled during breakfast. once upstairs i couldn't find the particular garment i was told to retrieve.

TROY (calling down steps)
hey bella, do you know where your red dress is? it's not in your closet.

BELLA (calling up steps)
uhhhm ... try checking in ... uhhhm ... did you look in ... uhhhm ... just try looking harder dad.

would you believe, her suggestion worked.

i have a friend who hides his porn on video tapes labeled MATH COUNTS. his theory: nobody likes math enough to pop in a video dedicated to the subject and if they do, they could use a good dose of porn so either way, it's all good.

i have another friend who hides his porn related materials in a box labeled SHITTY HE-MAN TOYS. his theory, in his words, "who the hell wants to look at a bunch of shitty he-man stuff?"

i am so rich in friends.

there is a game of sorts marty and i have engaged in since the early days of our relationship. we refer to it as THE CHIP. i don't recall who started it or even if it was an original invention. i just know it showed up one day and has been used 3-5 times a year since its inception.

how it works; each of us began the game with an equally scant few chips. chips are given when one of us performs an act of personal sacrifice at the request of the other. for instance, if marty were going out with her girlfriends and asked me to go i could, and oftentimes would, decline. if for some reason my attendance was important to marty on a particular outing, she could simply say my going was worth a chip. with the offer of a chip, it told me that this was, for some personal reason that did not need to be explained, an important matter to marty.

another thing about our chips; the offering of a chip has never been refused.

back in the day chips weren't traded immediately. one person may burn through three chips before ever getting presented one in return. this is not so much the case these days because these days you always got a chip or two you could toss on the counter. and while chips used to mostly involve family functions or events requiring shirts with buttons, they now take a much more pedestrian form. an example of a chip exchange today looks more like this:

MARTY (walking into kitchen where i'm doing dishes)
you got something?

TROY (laughing)
do i have something? sure. go.

MARTY
stop leaving your wet towels on the bed in the morning.

TROY
hang the broom up in the pantry after using it.

MARTY
done.

TROY
done.

and, people say kids complicate life. pre-kid chips were never this simple and painless. for us, kids have simplified our days down to the lowest common denominator of life; survival. and i'm not talking about driving a leased-suv and having the summer place in the outer banks kind of survival, i'm talking about the crouching scared in the back of a dank cave kind of survival.

clarifying points: the chips aren't real, like poker chips or something. they are figurative. no official scorecard has ever been kept because no one has ever thought to abuse the chip system. and this is not out of fear of getting caught (which you would get caught) but out of respect for the good deed it has done for our time together.

the number of ways marty can put a bra on while fully clothed is only surpassed by the number of ways she can take one off (also fully clothed). she can be standing next to me wearing a collared shirt one minute and i look again and she's got a warm bra balled up in her hand. another time she may pass me in the hall with one arm inside her shirt and the other pulling a shirt sleeve down to an elbow saying she's running to the store. i stop and watch her jet by as one arm will erupt out of the sleeve only to have the other hand dive into the collar. in these moments she reminds me of those shiny gold, female statuettes with the twenty arms. i've never looked at them closely to see if any of their appendages are messing with undergarments or not, but will going forward.

sadly these days i see marty putting bras on much more often than i see her taking them off. while this sucks for all the obvious reasons, i can say watching a shirted woman putting a bra on is far more mesmerizing in far more academic ways than seeing her remove one. (fact is, i've studied the removal process enough to think that i may have a shot at getting one off myself ... as long as someone first undid the horrible clippy/claspy thing in the back.)

and i feel i should caveat the above by reminding you that the guy so fascinated by all this is the same guy who takes his boxers off in the dining room just so he has a chair to lean on as he lowers the leg-holes down and around his short stubby legs. not sure if that lessens marty's apparel-based feats or not, but would understand if it did. i'm also not sure if that lessens anyone's desire to dine in my home or not. i promise not to disrobe while you're eating.

promise might be strong. how about we instead settle on giving it an old college try.

i recently met a guy who claimed to have the perfect wallet solution. when i asked what it was he got very excited, like no one ever asked him to share before me. he leaned forward in his chair and reached behind him, fumbling with his back pocket. after a moment he brought his hand forward holding it in front of me. in his open palm was a mess of credit cards, money, scraps of paper and god knows what else jutting in all directions. there wasn't as much as a paper clip or rubber band holding the collection together.

so, where's the wallet?

that's it.

but that's not a wallet. that's a pile of shit.

yes. i know. it's brilliant isn't it?

what's so brilliant about it?

it's brilliant because you'd be a lunatic to set this down anywhere, stuff would go everywhere. you will never loose this wallet.

after the super bowl, everyone debates the best commercial. after the annual ski-boondoggle, the participants ponder the best piece of banter. i'm naming the alpha quip from this year's steamboat trip to be ...

THE VOICE MAIL
setting : bookguy is leaving a message for his boss one morning before we headed up the mountain.

TROY
how funny would it have been if i had said, 'matt, come back to bed' while you were leaving that voice mail to your boss.

BOOKGUY
since saying that would have involved you getting up off the ground, i'm pretty confident it wouldn't have happened.

(now that is what i heard, but in rehashing the moment, bookguy swears he didn't say that but instead, 'since saying that would have involved you getting out of bed, i'm pretty confident it wouldn't have happened'. the fact that each option is equally applicable is not a small testament to how well we know one another.)

and a trip with bookguy would never be the same without a backwards kudo which can be seen in the runner-up conversation ...

THE COMPLIMENT
setting : bookguy and i are driving to the yellow sub with snake

BOOKGUY
i still think the most sincere thing you've ever posted on your site was the anniversary note to marty.

TROY
it's interesting you'd pick that out of everything.

BOOKGUY
it just wasn't the typical troy bullshit.

TROY
do you mind if i use that as an advertisement for my site.

BOOKGUY
what's that?

TROY
dearmitt dot com, just a bunch of typical troy bullshit. i think it has kind of a smart quality to it, not to mention, very flattering to the ear.

i heard a news story today about a lawsuit against a school district. the plaintiffs were petitioning for the right to place stickers inside the school's science books. this insert intends to correct any misinformation the textbook and educational facility may attempt to convey to its students regarding evolution.

were i the decision maker in this squabble, i would grant the zealots their request with the single condition that i get to place my own sticker inside all of their fancy, leather-bound bible books.

the key to my happiness has always been tied to gross ignorance about anything of consequence.

i think i need to go back there now.

i recently heard a commercial advertising a new product, the totally silent tampon wrapper or as they put it 'you would need bionic hearing to know this tampon was being opened.'

3 seconds after hearing this i thought ...
'oh lord, you've got to be kidding me. what next?'

42 seconds after hearing this i thought ...
'but wait a minute. is this akin to plopping in the toilet. i know some people can't drop their payload if others are in earshot and do things like hold it to the point of discomfiture or padding the water with a few squares in attempt to absorb the sound (and we all know that's only about a 50-50). is announcing to others in the room that your endometrial lining has begun sloughing from your uterine walls equally embarrassing? i can see wanting to avoid advertising that.'

2 minutes after hearing this i thought ...
'i just don't know. in some respects it seems like it would be a far more embarrassing admission but i've never gone through with it so cannot say. must begin asking women if menstruation is embarassing.'

2 hours after hearing this ...
'i wish i had something that required a totally silent thing that someone needed bionic hearing to hear me using.'

1 day after.
'i never get any cool stuff.'

scientific footnote: i have always likened the sloughing of the endometrial lining to large shards of an iceberg sliding into the water even though i know that the female version must be a much more gelatinous affair but i just can't come up with a better comparison. and, don't get me wrong, i'm thankful each and every day for not having a better something to visualize this against.

if i could invent one thing to give to mankind, to improve society, i would devise something called the truth box. the truth box would be infallible. it could not be deceived and could tell with absolute certainty if its subject was answering a question truthfully. additionally the truth box would have a compartment for a body part to be inserted. first offense would always be a hand, excepting se...

i'm not a woman.

i do not wear bras.

only have a few times at least.

but i've got one question, why the hell don't they all clip in the front? seeing the antics marty goes through to get dressed all i can say is it's good i'm not a woman and that i don't wear bras because if i were, i'd be three hours late to work instead of two.

wednesday night i drove a shiny new honda odyssey home. it started out with 5 miles on the odometer and ended up with 30 by the time i backed it into the garage. i know that the car is for marty and most would think that she would have been jonsin' to drive it but she was afraid of wrecking it pulling onto the busy road in front of the dealership and how sucky would that be. so i got the honors of driving my/marty's/our first brand new automobile off the lot.

now, how marty got this car is an interesting story. she researches everything to death and in her studies she learned of this technique of purchasing a car over the internet. she sent an email to every honda dealer within 100 miles and basically said, i'm buying a car, this car, this week and am looking for who will give me the best deal. she was worried that no one would respond for a number of unforeseen reasons. well she worried for naught because they not only responded but they were climbing over one another to get her in their showroom. one guy offered this. the next guy offered this plus this. they ratted one another out on available deals going on this month until one guy ultimately said, i'll beat any offer you get. well all right then.

now unfortunately our good fortune hit a wall. and that wall was we were looking to purchase the most sought after car of this type on the market. additionally it is year end so the deals were there. our ultimate challenge was finding someone who could keep a 2003 odyssey on their lot for more than three hours let alone finding a salesman who will come down on their price. so in the end we got partially screwed and had to buy one that was on a tractor trailer en route. when cars are selling in this manner, it's hard to get dealers to budge. why the hell would they. but this scenario aside, the internet deal has legs, as the motley fool claims, and if you're in the market, i'd recommend considering such a strategy in your process.

i'm quite different from most of the guys i work with. this is typical. but usually not as pronounced as my current situation. in the eyes of my colleagues i'm prissy, snobbish, delicate and several other decidedly negative terms, by their estimation at least. the only thing i could say about them is they are men, real, un-concentrated men.

the other day one of the uber-men informed me that if i mentioned UNIX one more time (they are a microsoft shop) a certain three of them were going to drag me out back and kick my ass. they don't know UNIX and aren't entirely comfortable with what such a change may hold for their future employment in this firm. i confidently told him i could defend such an attack. curious, he asked what 160 pounds of me was going to do against the combined 2,000 pounds of their three-man gorilla-squad. i would simply act like your pummeling aroused me, sexually. his countenance changed quite visibly. he admitted that this just may work.

Tonight a friend working on his masters was complaining about the cost of books and how much more significant it seems when it is coming out of his personal budget and not his parent's checking account. Everybody then reminisced on the end of semester ritual where you would sell books back to the university and how those monies never seemed to make it back into ma and pa's checking account. One girl sitting quietly to the side said in an almost whisper how she would buy books for classes she wasn't even taking so she could get extra money back at the end of the semester. The room fell silent and then erupted in overwhelming acceptance and disbelief that no one else had thought of that. I love the simple variations of life and the people who invent them.

my sister-in-law told me a story about a friend of hers who wanted to go out and eat at mcdonalds (addictive agents in the fries and all) but didn't have any jack. so what's a girl to do? make a tuna and salsa sandwich, pretending it's a royal with cheese? i thought not as did this enterprising young lady. her solution involved going to her pantry, pulling a gob of canned goods off the shelf, cleaning off the lids (smart move) and returning them to her local grocery. HmmmmMmmmm! this IS a tasty burger.