Book of Grievances: The flying toy incident

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As told by my children on 4/11/17.

Ryan's version of the events:

Elaina's version:

The verdict: It's a draw. I have no idea who to believe.

The Book of Grievances

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Every once in a while I have a parental epiphany. It's as rare (and as terrifying) as an Ogopogo sighting in Okanogan Lake but it has been known to happen. Sometime in late March, I must have been over-caffeinated or high on baby farts because at approximately two o'clock in the morning I was awakened by what I can only describe as a prophetic vision of the greatest invention I will likely ever create. I've done a few admirable things in my life, such as completing medical school, but surely this achievement will be numbered among my greatest. 

As I was saying, just before 2 am, I had a dream/manifestation/divination of the perfect way to curb the constant fighting and tattling that occurs with gusto in my home. My mind was so excited by what I saw that I was unable to sleep until I jotted down these three words in my phone's notebook: "Book of Grievances." Actually, what I ended up typing was 'book of fetishes' but the next morning I quickly edited the autocorrection for fear that my wife would discover the error and trouble herself that I was going to author an erotic novel (although if this were true, rest assured that it would be an excellent read!).

After settling myself back into one of the most restful slumbers of my life, I awoke and gathered my little children around me to inform them that I am starting a "Book of Grievances." From that point on, any time they want to tattle on each other they are required to take this holy book and write an exhaustive tale of the events, with at least a page of descriptive narration written in small longhand. Then, on the opposite page, they have to draw the scenario in detailed full-color illustration. Only after they've done this will I listen to their complaints.

The Book of Grievances has been enforced in our home now since that time and, admittedly, I have not been as fervent about demanding its use as I intended. I've also made a few exceptions to the rules such as: 1) the baby is exempt, 2) Squeaky-E, the 2nd youngest is only required to draw a picture of the events (although you'll see that she does a decent job at writing too), and 3) if they're annoying me I sometimes send them to bed before the color is added to the pictures. However, even with the Gumby rules, it has certainly helped curb more than one royal rumble in the 'House of P'. 

The book will be continued and kept as part of our family legacy. I will occasionally share some of the more interesting pages on here to entertain the masses (and by masses, I mean the tiny number of accidental visitors who stumble across this humble blog). I hope you enjoy these adventures from the 'Book of Grievances' as they are told by my little pissants.

Here are the first entries.

Ethan's version of the events:

Ryan's version:

Review: Hulk: World War Hulk Omnibus

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Hulk: World War Hulk Omnibus by Greg Pak
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

So, first of all, I want to be crystal-clear that I read this as individual issues chronologically, not as the Omnibus that will be released as a hardcover later this year. I wasn't lucky enough to score a glorious galley copy or anything like that but I have devoured every issue that this omnibus will collect and read them in the intended order. Basically, I binged on the World War Hulk storyline over a short period of time and felt that it was appropriate to review it this way rather than adding 5 different books to my shelf.

That being said, I obviously can't provide any credible information on the beauty or lack thereof of the hardcover issue that will arrive in the final copy of this Omnibus. However, I have no doubt that the book will be worth collecting for anyone who loves the Hulk and this storyline. If the big green guy is your cup of tea, then this will be over 1000 pages of awesomeness.

World War Hulk was a massive cross-title storyline that took place in the Marvel universe and immediately follows the events of Planet Hulk. If you haven't read that, then I suggest that you do. However, if you are too lazy and just want to jump in, you could probably get away with it since they flash back and provide multiple synopses of the gist of Planet Hulk. To sum it up, Hulk is pissed because he was sent to another planet where after being kept as a gladiator slave, his wife, unborn son and basically everyone else was blown up by a bomb that he attributes to several key Superhero leaders back on earth. He takes his warbound buddies and goes back to earth for vengeance and it is a bloody destructive mess.

This is a pretty big event in the Marvel universe and you'd think it would be a bundle of constant fun... and it was at first. The problem is that the same story and events were told over and over and over. Quite honestly, very little actually occurred over these 1000+ pages that couldn't have been told in a few short issues. It's a shame because it could have been so so good! I don't regret reading it all but I think that most people would be satisfied by just reading the core issues of the storyline without bothering to re-read the events in 5 other crossover titles.

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The Places We've Planted Ourselves

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Mrs. P and I have planted ourselves all around, and once outside, of this beautiful country. We've been fortunate to live in some of the snazziest locales our great North American continent has to offer.... as well as one of the most rotten. One of them (hopefully the best one) is still yet to come. 

A couple of our friends used to hang maps on the wall of all the places they've lived. When we get to our next destination, I'm going to pilfer their idea and do the same.

My Midlife Crisis: Watches

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The other day I asked my wife when I was allowed to have a midlife crisis... because I have big plans. I mean BIG plans! I'm a man with expensive tastes and a lot of interests. Unfortunately she told me that I have to wait a few years. Until the school debt is paid. Until the credit card debt is paid. Until we know we can afford for the kids to go to college. I tried to explain that college is over-rated anyways but I just got decimated with a burning look of death that my dear wife has come to perfect.

Well, after some hearty discussion, I was able to convince my wife that a midlife crisis would eventually fall upon us. To my dismay our negotiations took us some 10-12 years in the future and with a far less appealing budget than my whims would have taken me. But, since a boy has to dream, here are the watches that made it on my pipe-dream list for my midlife crisis (P.S. none of these watches fit into our negotiated budget):

A.Lange & Sohne Zeitwerk

A.Lange & Sohne Richard Lange Tourbillon "Pour le Merite"

Montblanc Tourbillon Cylindrique Nightsky Geospheres

Roger Dubuis Excalibur 42 Automatic Skeleton

Arnold & Son Nebula

Zenith El Primero Chronomaster

Review: The Last Days of New Paris

Pin It The Last Days of New Paris by China Miéville
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

The premise of this book was so ridiculous that I couldn't help but dive at the opportunity to read it, especially since I was given a free galley copy by the publisher. From my previous experience, China Mieville tends to live in a space that is far outside the reaches of most people's creative capabilities. It's a fascinating world, but quite possibly one that can only exist in the mind of a mad-man. And I love it!

"In the chaos of wartime Marseille, American engineer - and occult disciple - Jack Parsons stumbles onto a clandestine anti-Nazi group, including surrealist theorist André Breton. In the strange games of the dissident diplomats, exiled revolutionaries, and avant-garde artists, Parsons finds and channels hope. But what he unwittingly unleashes is the power of dreams and nightmares, changing the war and the world forever.

It's 1950. A lone surrealist fighter, Thibaut, walks a new, hallucinogenic Paris, where Nazis and the Resistance are trapped in unending conflict, and the streets are stalked by living images and texts - and by the forces of hell."

Delicious, right!? I'm not going to lie, I was occasionally confused and disoriented by the craziness in these pages but I was never ever bored. Anyone who has ever looked at a surrealist painting knows that confusion is quite possibly the source of the thrill you experience.

This was a book that I couldn't possibly describe to another reader in a way that would effectively portray how fantastic it was. It was a joy to read and unlike any other book I've ever read!

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JoPapa

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I've been avoiding writing this post, not because it's not important to me but because it's very personal and I think that personal stuff sometimes needs a chance to dry before it is hung out for others to see. I have honestly experienced very little loss in my life (knock on wood) and consider this a blessing because I have an extremely tender constitution and emotions like a wet doily. The loss of my Grandpa Kelsch at the end of last week, however, I think deserves more than a pool of tears and heartaches (although I assure you that those are present as well).

You see, my grandpa was unlike anyone else I've ever met. If you'd ever met him you wouldn't forget. I've tried many times in the past to describe him to people and paint a picture of him so that others could feel his love for life but I've never quite been able to capture him in a way that does justice to the man that he was. He was a passionate, brilliant artist and recently painted this portrait of himself better than I would ever be able to with words.

I've come to realize as I get older that there are few people who ever do exactly what they want to with their life. Few people focus on their passion. My grandpa was one of the few. He loved art and he loved his family and they were his life. Every time I reflect on what I'm doing with my life I can't help but ask myself if I will ever love it as much as my grandpa loved touching his brush to a canvas. He was a gloriously jolly dude because he did what he loved.... and he took the time to learn to do it well. He also loved people which gave a soul to his work and those he shared life with.

Ever since I was a little squirt, I wanted to be just like my Grandpa Kelsch. I didn't get to see him often because of distance but I loved sitting with him while he painted a La Jolla landscape or sketched a portrait. I remember one time in particular that he sat with me and taught me a lesson on how to use a charcoal pencil. The vision of his hands running along the paper was hypnotizing to me and the scratch on the paper was a song I will never forget.

Everything he ever gave to me I've cherished. The other night I sat looking at a few of his paintings that I've been lucky enough to be gifted over the years and can't help but hear the echoes of his joy. He wasn't really called 'grandpa' to us or 'dad' by his kids. He was Jopapa to all of us. And we were dude, dudettes, and things were always 'swell' or 'spiffy'. Words were like candy to Jopapa and they are some of my sweetest memories. I've spent a lot of my life reading beautiful words from brilliant authors but none will ever have the effect that his did when he told me that I was "one snazzy dude."

Part of me wants to sit here and wallow in the misery of the loss of one of my best buddies but I can guarantee that that isn't the flavor of of fizzy wizzy that he'd want me to drink. While you'll be missed intensely, Jopapa, I want you to know that it's because of you that I continue to search for the passion that can consume me and bring life to my soul. It's because of you that I give my kids nicknames and try to be silly with them even when I'm tired. I'll miss you but I know that I'll see you and Jomama again after you guys have had a chance to paint a beautiful canvas for our family in the next life.