Iko Iko

Rockin' in the Free World

Here is a picture of Sam rocking out on his air guitar.

Slipping into old habits...not posting.

So, Halloween has come and gone. Sam was Crush from Nemo and, I have to admit, that he was much cuter than the real version. Here is the picture of the cousins...

Sam had a blast with the trick-or-treating. We went to Myrtle Avenue in Monrovia while it was still light. All (or most) of the business along the stretch were giving out candy and there were gobs of kids taking advantage.

Then, Lauren dropped me off at my parents so I could watch the beloved Trojans lay a stinker on the Oregon field. She then continued on to her parents to continue the "Diabetes Walk" in her old neighborhood. Apparently, Sam wanted to walk for most of the beginning and would not get out of his stroller for the second half. Mommy was exhausted.

Then, Lauren brought the boy back to my parents. We finished up the Trojan beatings and ate dinner out in the back. Jim got the A/V together and we watched "The Skeleton Key" under the stars. That song is still in my head...

"My grandma and your grandma...sitting by the fire.

My grandma said to your grandma, I'm gonna set this house on fire.

Tell me now, hey ya, hey ya. Achi Achi aye..."

Such a great evening...except for that whole USC loss thing.

The Decades of Injuries...

I have noticed that the major injuries in my life have come at the end of each decade. With this decade coming to a close, I realized that I had not had a major injury and I was not looking forward to 2010 and the injury I had to live through to get there.

In August 1977, I was a fat fetus that was so fat that I broke my collarbone during the process. Apparently, my manliness showed early because I did not cry much which is why Mom and Dad did not think anything of it. I don't know how they figured it out, but they did...and the legend begins.

In 1989, we went on a bike ride to the beach. At the end of the bike ride, we played a full tackle football game that existed without incident...until the last play of the game. There was fumble that I recovered, but my loving brother decided to jump on me. I hear a pop and immediate pain in my shoulder...the same collarbone I dislocated twelve years earlier. The best part of the story is that my "girlfriend" at the time (girlfriend is in parenthesis because it's not really a girlfriend until at least your teenage years) toilet papered our house and the story that went around was that I fell out of the tree taking the toilet paper down. I never denied it, and made the girl feel horrible. We aren't together anymore.

In June 1998, my last summer, I was playing shortstop on Team Manana and I took a dive for a ball and rolled my wrist. Immediately, I felt pain but it wasn't enough to stop playing. I finished the game (even batted) and on the way home, my mother (who luckily still went to the games) thought it a good idea to get an x-ray...just to be safe. We went to County and they did an x-ray but couldn't decipher it. They sent the x-ray to our orthopedic doctor for us to check with him in the morning. I was expecting him to say that it was no problem. However, he made the decision to put me in a full arm cast for six weeks and a short cast for six more weeks...keep in mind, this was my last summer off of my life and I had to spend twelve weeks in a cast. Also, keep in mind this was my right arm that was now not able to touch my face...which includes shaving, brushing my teeth and combing my hair. It was a long six weeks.

In October 2009, I was playing outfield for Team Manana. The second to last inning I was moved to the outfield from shortstop and I ran to catch a fly ball. On the second step, I feel a pop in my right leg and immediately know that I had just pulled my hamstring. I had never done that in my life and I immediately knew that I did not like it. Luckily, this was near the end of the game, however I knew I was up second for the next inning. Rudy gets a base hit and I drag my leg to the plate and stand on my left leg with my bat on my shoulder, praying for four balls and a limp to first. I get it, and a pinch-runner while spending the rest of the inning stretching my leg out. The bottom of the inning I volunteer for first base and the first batter (of course) hits a grounder to me. I struggle to bend down and hobble to the bag for the out. Even the umpire laughs at me for my bad luck. Oh well...

Now, this injury is nowhere near the previous three, but I am hoping this is the injury to take me to 2010...I'll take this over a broken bone any decade. Picture me knocking on wood as you read this.

The NERVE!!

A haircut was much overdue, so the deed was done over the weekend...much to the dismay of my lovely wife. She likes when my hair is long, I like it short. It is a never ending battle, but I always win because...it is my hair!!

But, the nerve of the woman doing the trimming said a dye treatment could do me well, because of my obvious graying hair. For one thing, LADY, it is not obvious. The two or three blades of gray on my scalp does not constitute a full head of dye. Secondly, back down woman.The hair on my head is becoming more and more a rarity. Dying it will only quicken the exodus of my follicles and push me to the razor sooner.

The nerve of some people.

The Loves of My Life

Pants-less Sam

So, I hadn't posted a picture in a while, so here is my newest favorite. It was stolen from Nicole's camera, so I hope she doesn't mind the thievery.

So, I gave Lauren a night off last night and made her go to the Dodger game. A sacrifice on many levels considering my love for the Boys in Blue, it was fleece blanket night and Andre Ethier had a walk-off home run...another one. But, Lauren deserved it and I was happy to spend time with my boy.

However, he only had 15 minutes of naptime all day and I was prepared to play with him for a little while, feed him and put him to bed. He had different plans. I guess I'm a lot of fun to play with, because he kept going until 9pm like a champ. I then sat down with my dinner and watched the end of the game until it got to the bottom of the ninth...we are losing by a run. I text Lauren and she says we will win...her little psychic thing. Ethier gets a double and Matt Kemp comes up with two outs. I know he will get a hit (because Lauren says so), but Sam decides to wake up screaming. So I hit pause and attend to him.

He proceeds to scream for about 15 minutes without any ability on my part to console him...and I tried everything. So, I thought he might be dirty so I took his pants off. He immediately stops screaming and falls asleep. So, he slept great the rest of the night without any pants. I quietly told him that his future teachers will not accept this type of attire when kindergarten comes around.

So, I then unpaused the game and watched Matt Kemp get a basehit to tie the game. Ninety minutes later, at the command of my lovely wife, Andre Ethier hits a two-run homer in the bottom of the 13th inning to seal the deal.

It's good to see most men cannot stand up to her. I don't feel so bad.

Lucky or Unlucky?

The poker tournament was on Saturday and I have come to the conclusion that, in the end, poker comes down to luck. By luck, I do not mean putting all your chips in the middle and pray (which is what some of the players did on Saturday). I mean that you have to play well and hope to not get unlucky.

I was playing well...even with the alcohol flowing through me. Reading my opponents, making good guesses on their hands. For a lot of them, I was giving them more credit than they deserved. But there were two hands that broke me and both involved me getting unlucky. The main hand was when I had AA and the flop came King, Jack, Four...two spades. I felt my opponent was playing a draw so I went all in, in the hopes of him folding because I was pretty confident I could get the best of him down the road. I didn't expect him to call all his chips with a 30% chance of getting his card. He had two spades in his hand (which is what I thought) and...of course, he got is fifth spade on the turn. The poker pros always say that all you can do is get your chips in with the best hand. I did that all night, but I still ended up in 10th place.

So, my apologies to Party Poker, PokerStars and Facebook poker sites. Apparently, bad beats happen with a good old deck of cards as well. I guess losing the Mega Millions Jackpot was not the end of my unlucky streak.

Something Manly

So, I was watching the World Series of Poker last night and it struck me how the commentators...Lon McEachern and Norman Chad...make the professionals look like they are better than they actually are. There was a hand where it was obvious that neither player had a clue what their opponent had. For the entire hand, Chad tried to convince the audience that Harrington was "setting up" Varkoni because Harrington "knew" he had the better hand and was trying to maximize his win. However, it was completely obvious that Harrington had no idea what Varkoni had and ended up checking the river to be surprised that he won the hand. I am convinced I can play with these guys...they're nothing special.

Maybe it is the amount of online poker that I have been playing, but I feel luck plays more a part of the game than professionals try to portray. I need to get into some live games (if the wife allows) because I am positive that online play (no matter if it is Pokerstars, Party Poker or Facebook) favors the longshot rivers. Countless times, I have the best hand going into the final card and my opponent "miraculously" pulls his fifth club or completes his straight or finds the one in two cards left in the deck to make his trips. Playing online is killing my buzz.

I guess the moral of the story is that I can only trust a deck of cards and computers lie.

Lauren...can I go play poker?

Julie and Julia

Ya, so we watched Julie and Julia last night...I know, I know...it was the wife's pick. But, the movie struck me in two ways...

The first and most obvious way is that we need to cook more at home. I'm not sure if the movie is supposed to make you a fan of Julia Child, but I found myself becoming less of a fan afterwards. Nothing in the way the movie portrays her...well sort of the moment at the end, but more of the idea that I really don't care too much for French food. Maybe I haven't eaten the right type or amount of the delicacies, but when I'm thinking of something to cook in the kitchen, France does not come to mind.

So, I decided to buy the cookbook that the movie tries to debunk, "The Joy of Cooking". I texted Lauren and she immediately tells me that she already has it...only it's in storage. So, I might spend this weekend trying to locate the "Bible of all cookbooks" in the bro's garage.

The second way the movie struck me was that it was mostly about blogging and writing. Julie (Amy Adams) is not sure of herself and her writing and needs to be pushed back into the writing scene by her husband in the way of blogging. Now, in no way do I consider myself a writer and I really do not think I have much to say that is interesting to anyone but me. However, the movie made me realize that I need to put entries in this blog more often. It was not really a realization because I have always known that I do not write enough, but is was more of a push to do it...another push.

I have been reading a blog of a friend that I will not mention, however the blog is everything I wanted this blog to be, the only difference is that the writer is actually writing it. It is a mostly-daily account of all the stuff they and their kids go through and the thoughts, wishes, feelings, prayers and anxieties that the chaos brings. All of this will, no doubt, be held until the memory fades and they need to be reminded of the wonderful times they went through.

My problem is stage fright. The increasing nervousness that I devulge too much of myself or the fact that what I say is not interesting. However, last night I realized that it only matters to me. Twenty years from now, I will laugh at myself for being so stupid back in my thirties, but I will also be glad that I CAN laugh at myself.