(this is) durkin.org

Finally got Gallery installed and working, and uploaded some photos.

Before I forget them, I wanted to capture some funny, funny things that Reilly says, or sings in this case. I’ve noticed that he grows out of them after a while - either his speech ability improves or he learns the correct words, so you have to catch these jewels while they are around. (Example - he used to say “Tiref*ck” instead of “Firetruck.”)

To the tune of “Bah-Bah Black Sheep,” Reilly says, “Bah, bah black sheep haveyouanysir? Yes sir, yes sir free bags full.” Often he launches from there into “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” as though they are one song.

I keep meaning to get some audio of him singing, but have not yet. Here is a snippet from around Christmas 2004, mostly talking about animals and what they say. The recording is not so good, it was taken through a USB mic on my old work laptop, and has not been edited.

It’s not a funny story, but it does have a funny ending. A twist, if you will. You see - I went to get a hair cut last Friday at my new cheap-o hair cutting place. I thought I was ahead of the game - I’d get there right as they opened; be in and out in no time.

When I walked in, there was only one other client - perfect. I was taken back to the chair right away, and my hair cut began moments later - all good. Then there is a shuffle in the other chair. A noise of some kind. The woman cutting my hair says, “What’s happening over there? Seizure? Oh, my - A seizure.”

That’s right. So I call 911. I tell the attendant the name of the shop and the shopping center. She asks me if the street address she reads from her system is correct. “I’ll have to leave that up to you,” I said, “I have no idea.” I help out by supporting the woman in the chair (I know you are not to restrain folks when they are seizing - that is not what I was doing, just keeping her from falling to the ground). I tell the employees to look on her wrists for medical bracelets, or in her purse for information. EMS arrives. One of them asks me her name. I tell him I don’t know. He repeats the question. I repeat my answer, this time I add that her purse is on the chair next to us. He repeats the question. Again, “I have no idea. That is her purse.” “Oh.”

They take care of her. They ask questions; we don’t know the answers. They tell us they are taking her to the hospital. They leave.

So I go back to my chair and sit down. The woman who was cutting my hair stares blankly for a moment and then comes to stand behind me, scissors in hand.

I reconsider the haircut.

Since she has already begun, and honestly I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, I did not stop her. In retrospect, this was not a wise choice.

Her hand shook. She could not concentrate. She kept repeating “I’m alright, now. I’m fine.” She kept pulling the hair on the sides of my head out to compare lengths in the mirror… and then cutting more and more.

It is not my worst haircut, not by far. But not good. A quick example: You know how the hair line on those guys in Dumb and Dumber went straight across the front, Three Stooges-style? I have that, except mine is at a 20 degree angle, sloping up from left to right. Nice, huh?

One quick educational bit, though: The employees kept looking for something to put in the mouth of the woman who suffered the seizure. I wanted to tell them not to, but wasn’t sure that was a bad thing to do. Turns out – it is bad. Do not put items in the mouth of a seizure victim.

A week or so ago, Reilly put one of his toys, a plastic tiger flashlight that roars, on the coffee table. He looked it in the eye and said,”No sir, Tiger. Off the table. You go to time out.”

He then walked the tiger to his highchair (where we send him to T.O.) and left him on the ground next to it.

Jen has a blast from the past up; a group photo from a wedding many years ago. Max was the smart one; he took the pic, so now there is zero incriminating evidence of him.

Other than the stories, that is…

Related but off-topic - could Blogger make it more difficult to leave a comment on a site? I tried to reply on Jen’s site, but don’t have (and don’t need or want) a Blogger account*. So I tried to get one, but that was way too involved, so I quit. Aren’t they the leaders of the whole “Push Button Publishing” thing? Does that exclude commenters?

*Anymore, that is. Way back in the day, the earliest version of this site was powered by Blogger. Remains are here.

Since I already brought up issues of or related to bathroom habits, I’ll keep on going: Now, I know there is more than one way to skin a cat. There is also more than one way to shave your face. Usually, the variations are all about the direction you shave, the order of events (neck first, etc.), or location (I shave in the shower, for example). The other day, one of our consultants showed up to work with a cut running from behind his ear to his adam’s apple. Being the ever-funny kinda guy that I am, I asked if he had cut himself shaving, thinking that of course the answer would be “No,” because no one shaves from behind their ear forward (Back-of-the-neck shaving being regarded as a separate process).

But he does.

I thought that was strange and did a quick poll of the other four males standing around - all of them only shave their faces; that is, they shave directly beneath their face, but use the corner of their jaw as a stopping point.

This is the wonderful part of life, no? Variations everywhere!

Here’s a thing I do not understand: One of great things about being a male is the quick trip to the potty (your basic No. 1) - a simple two-zip process, followed by the requisite washing of the hands, and you’re done, right? Right. So why is it that some guys go the long way round, and actually unbuckle the belt, undo the button, re-tuck the shirt every time they go in there? It seems like a huge waste of time to me.

Funny the things you start to notice after so long in an office building…