can i get a hoo-wah for little man alexander who turns 1 year old today.

mostly, this celebration is not as much about him simply being 1 as it is about homaging how he successfully navigated the perils that come with being kid number two ... especially when kid number one is bella.

and somehow, someway he always gives smiles because that just seems to be what this little man is all about.


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so just a few months ago i copped to having a bit of a thing for gina the veternarian on seseme street.

and, now steve buscemi is 'bedding her down' sopranos style. no way he appreciates her the way i would appreciate her. no stinkin' way.

i can say with absolute certainty that this is my all-time favorite boycott (04.05.04 : jiffy lube) to ever come through boycott city.

i could own this company and would still join this girl's boycott.

a few things i don't get...

1. people who think eating lots of food is funny.
2. my compulsion to roll the sleeves of my workshirts up like charles ingles did in little house (past the elbow).

2004 u-city photo contest
title: buy something
photographer : troy dearmitt
category : color
awarded : first place

judges' comments :
clever, has good sense of humor
genuine, not contrived
gets right to the point
the grittiness has appeal

photographer's comments :
this year's j...

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bella went from absolutely loving baths to finding them acceptable to loathing them to the point that if water touches her skin she will shriek in a mad terror that brings the neighbors to our windows, hands cupped to the glass.

most recently she went on a three day jag of refusing to bathe. to put her in forcibly, while an option, was to put yourself in harms way. three days is a long time for an american to not bathe, especially when they live in my home. and especially when they pass the time playing games called DIRT and WORMS.

before having children marty vowed to not have one of those soiled and buger encrusted toddlers that other people were afraid to touch or be touched by. 86 hours into the water fast i asked marty about this missive. she half raised a hand in dismissal. upon seeing this gesture my mind placed this parental ideal in the junk drawer, next to 'will not throw food in restaurants' and on top of 'will not play in own feces' (that's one of my own).

hours later marty was sleeping in some part of the house. i in another with alex on my chest. i was stirred from sleep by someone poking me in the arm and talking to me. i began nodding in agreement and handing the remote over and promising to handle it, whatever it was, later if i could just snooze for five more minutes. bella continued to speak and i continued to lie there with closed eyes:

dad, i don't need to take a bath tonight.

bella, you haven't had a bath in three days

but ...

skipping tonight would make it four, so no deal.

but, i put special scasoli on so i don't need to.

you put what on?

i put special scasolee on so i don't need to.

what is scasolee?

no dad. vascolee?

bella, i don't know what you're saying.

vascoleen dad. vascoleen!

what? Vaseline?

yes. dad. i put Vaseline on.

where?

everywhere.

(i squint my eyes open to see bella naked and every visible shred of skin shiny, slick. and i'm talking from hairline to the tops of her feet.)

ok bella, go tell your mother.

ok dad.

(as she turned to leave i could see that even her backside had sludgy streaks of petroleum coating it.)

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