The Look . . . Of . . Love . . .

Proud Papa
Originally uploaded by Uncle Mikey.

You can see it in their faces. Sabrina's lasered in on her former dwelling/current nest/food source/love fountain Mommy holding the camera with perfect, innocent baby love for her mother. Daddy's love is 95% directed at his angel Sabrina, and an ever dwindling 5% at a game of NFL Football, which has become a lot less important since his daughter was born. Daddy doesn't mind that a bit, in fact he's kind of relieved because in the past this time of year was the accursed season when that bitch NFL football was about to leave him suddenly, breathlessly, miserably alone for half a year, aGAIN, after one last bang she makes him wait two weeks for. Then he had nothing but Formula One, the World Series and ESPN's Street Ball until September. So it all works out nicely.

If Only

Sports coverage really were like this.

Gorgeous

Pretty Baby
Originally uploaded by Uncle Mikey.

Is it just me, or does my baby Sabrina have movie star looks already? Man is she beautiful. It's like she got all the pretty both her parents ever had combined. Yesterday she started grabbing things regularly, for the first time really as she's been pawing at things but not actually grasping them. She is madly in love with a Baby Einstein classical music and light show plush star that came with a baby gym (the colorful pad you put on the floor that has cushy tentpoles that arch up from the corners to cross in the middle and have stuff hanging from them, such as the musical star) and was grabbing it successfully all day. I also get a kick out of it because it's the only one of four or five musical baby toys we have that doesn't manage to mangle the music through a tinny speaker (I mean come on, people, it's 2006) and the lights at the star's points shift with the music, sometimes with the base melody and sometimes with the acrobatic solos. Anyways, time to go baby toy shopping, I'm getting a little tired of the three songs the star plays, even though they're obscure enough to be interesting and they sound good.

It'll be a little bit sad when I'm healthy enough to work all the time, I'll miss most of these little firsts that make my heart swell up with pride and joy. I suppose hearing about them is cool too, but I will definitely miss seeing them.

Glorious

100 patty cheeseburger
Originally uploaded by Uncle Mikey.

I blogged about a 20-patty cheeseburger from In-n-Out Burger some time ago (can't seem to find it, but it's there somewhere in the archives), but these guys are my new heroes. Behold the 100-patty cheeseburger, successfully eaten by 8 people, which isn't really cheating if you do the math.

After I saw the 20-patty burger I realized I hadn't had a cheeseburger in months, and ran out immediately to Fran's Hamburgers for a double with cheese. I felt sick and like I weighed a million pounds the next day and haven't had one since. But this pic has practically forced me to have another. Damn you, internet!

Joel "I Don't Support the Troops" Stein, Explained

I should have guessed Gerard at American Digest would have this figured out. Stein's a neuter:

You hear this soft, inflected tone everywhere that young people below, roughly, 35 congregate. As flat as the bottles of spring water they carry and affectless as algae, it tends to always trend towards a slight rising question at the end of even simple declarative sentences. It has no timbre to it and no edge of assertion in it.

The voice whisps across your ears as if the speaker is in a state of perpetual uncertainty with every utterance. It is as if, male or female, there is no foundation or soul within the speaker on which the voice can rest and rise. As a result, it has a misty quality to it that denies it any unique character at all. It is the Valley Girl variation of the voices that Prufrock hears:
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
It's parting wistful wish for you is that you "Have a good one."

Above all, it is a sexless voice. Not, I hasten to add, a "gay" voice. Not that at all. It is neither that gentle nor that musical. Nor is it that old shabby lisping stereotype best consigned to the dustbin of popular culture. No, this is a new old voice of a generation of ostensible men and women who have been educated and acculturated out of, or say rather, to the far side of any gender at all. It is, as I have indicated above, the voice of the neutered. And in this I mean that of the transitive verb: To castrate or spay. The voice and the kids that carry it is the triumphant achievement of our halls of secondary and higher education. These children did not speak this way naturally, they were taught. And like good children seeking only to please their teachers and then their employers, they learned.

There's more, and better. Go and read.

The Tragedy of Infant Drunkenness

Tipsy Baby
Originally uploaded by Uncle Mikey.

For some reason this reminds me of Eli Manning's infamous drunk pic and the attendant photoshops (scroll down). I pray that my child never ends up QBing for the New York Giants, but you can't stop progress.

Actually, last night she was hopped up on chocolate milk, or whatever you call it when your wife breastfeeds after eating chocolate for the first time since Sabrina was born. Man was our little angel twitchy and exuberant, poor D was punished for that mistake and will probably never make it again.

You Can't Escape the Gnashing Fangs of Death

Danger
Originally uploaded by Uncle Mikey.

On the topic of biting, Ollie here has developed the awful habit of nipping noses and lips when he gets really excited. The wife and I have learned to hold him far enough away to not lose skin or bleed much (see D's left hand on Ollie's chest) but there's a fine line between allowing him close enough to give a disgusting doggie kiss and getting your face ripped off. I can't wait until he clumsily bites Sabrina, that should be a riot. I sure hope he likes Siberia, because that's where he's going to end up if he hurts my little honeybunch. He's got the right fur for it, anyway.

When I Get My Teeth, Watch Out

Jaws
Originally uploaded by Uncle Mikey.

If Sabrina were a little older I'd have told my wife to watch out for a nip from the little nipper, but no danger from that region yet. If her insanely strong grip is any indicator, I wouldn't want to be bitten by my little girl.

But if she's anything like her mother, she won't be a biter. She'll just give you that look and then you'll obey her without another word.

On My List

This looks good, a book by a woman who posed as a man for eight months and wrote about the results. Norah Vincent, a lesbian who on a dare from a friend dressed in drag for a stroll through New York's East Village, was so intrigued by the experience that she totally committed to a Black Like Me-style experiment that apparently left her with some complex feelings about the whole affair:

Vincent's status as a "masculine woman" abets this transformation, but the subject of her lesbianism falls away, more or less, once her adventures as Ned begin. Indeed, one of the great attributes of "Self-Made Man" is its lack of agenda or presuppositions. To be sure, Vincent's status as a woman is what makes her observations of male behavior fresh - introducing herself to some guys in a bowling league, she's touched by the ritual howyadoin', man-to-man handshake, which, "from the outside . . . had always seemed overdone to me," but from the inside strikes her as remarkably warm and inclusive, worlds away from the "fake and cold" air kisses and limp handshakes exchanged by women. But in its best moments, "Self-Made Man" transcends its premise altogether, offering not an undercover woman's take on male experience, but simply a fascinating, fly-on-the-wall look at various unglamorous male milieus that are well off the radar of most journalists and book authors.

That bowling league, for example. Norah-as-Ned commits to it for eight months, becoming the weak link on a four-man team of working-class white men. (Vincent has changed the names of the characters and obscured the locations to protect the identities of her subjects.) The resultant chapter is as tender and unpatronizing a portrait of America's "white trash" underclass as I've ever read. "They took people at face value," writes Vincent of Ned's teammates, a plumber, an appliance repairman and a construction worker. "If you did your job or held up your end, and treated them with the passing respect they accorded you, you were all right." Neither dumb lugs nor proletarian saints, Ned's bowling buddies are wont to make homophobic cracks and pay an occasional visit to a strip club, but they surprise Vincent with their lack of rage and racism, their unflagging efforts to improve Ned's atrocious bowling technique and "the absolute reverence with which they spoke about their wives," one of whom is wasting away from cancer.

Sounds really interesting, and well worth reading. Link from Instapundit, whose readers point out:

"a plumber, an appliance repairman and a construction worker"

Since when do those occupations describe the "white-trash underclass"?

That could only get by a NYT editor, I'm afraid.

My Favorite Album Cover Ever

You're soaking in it
Originally uploaded by Uncle Mikey.

Or it would be, if it were an album cover. Instead it's an ad for meat from 1946. I wouldn't have thought you'd need to push meat on people who had it rationed for five years, but there it is. And now it's making me hungry.

From Boingboing, which I continue to visit despite the fact that it's chock full of some really sad liberal paranoia. Which is a shame considering how smart the people involved are.

Baby I'm Amazed

Surprised Sabrina
Originally uploaded by Uncle Mikey.

Or maybe a more appropriate headline would be "Baby: I'm Amazed." She slept through a walk to and around the park today, which was nice because I was ready to turn around as soon as we left the yard. Man it's no fun being physically incapacitated. I'm meeting with a surgeon Monday and should be on my way to surgery soon after. Yippee!

It Doesn't Get any Geekier

Than this, a Lego project to make a life-size Han Solo frozen in Carbonite. And on the topic of superlatives, this is so awful I can barely look away from it. I guess those kids are big fans of Growing Up Gotti. Make sure to hit the "Originals" button for the full impact, and then try Photochops for even more wackiness.

First link from Dorkafork, second from Gorilla Mask.

Bitten by the Wacky Bug

Magic Hat of Silliness
Originally uploaded by Uncle Mikey.

We hope to see a lot of this look on Sabrina's face in the future, no matter what it means. We're also very attached to the hat and have decided Sabrina looks best in it, despite the efforts of cousins and dogs to outmodel her in it. A lovely weekend, with my sister and brother and his wife and two boys visiting and bringing dinner yesterday during the first day of a fantastic weekend of NFL playoff football, and baby wrestling and more football today as I try to get my life in order before embarking on back fusion surgery, a necessary evil I've been putting off for years but whose time has come. I plan to become a play surface for my little girl while I recover and will probably catch up on movies and books as I lay about knitting bone grafts for six weeks or so. I'm very excited about being able to do moderately physical things without fear of serious damage or disablement. I can't wait to run for the first time in years; it's funny how you miss things you kind of hate when they're not available.

Sabrina, get ready to have a captive audience . . .

My Girl Wants To

Sabrina Bedtime 3
Originally uploaded by Uncle Mikey.

Party all the time, etc. Check out my little Sabrina, crumping vertical style. She calls it "getting my postpartum freak on." Or anyway that's what it sounds like.

I'm entirely sure that the noises she's making mean she's started talking already, although we're not smart enough to understand her proto-language. Sorry honeybun, Mommy and Daddy have not the wisdom to fathom the complexity of your communication. We'll get there, don't worry. Just keep doing your beautiful, amazing, fantastic, adorable thang.

P.S. Note the blanket she's laying on, and if you see one, buy it. It's by far my favorite baby item, a gift from my wife's Aunt Mary Alice that is the softest, warmest non-living thing I've ever touched. I'd love to find more and make a bathrobe out of them. Yummy . . .

All You Need to Know about Chuck

Things you didn't know about Chuck Norris:

Chuck Norris drives an ice cream truck covered in human skulls.

Chuck Norris sold his soul to the devil for his rugged good looks and unparalleled martial arts ability. Shortly after the transaction was finalized, Chuck roundhouse-kicked the devil in the face and took his soul back. The devil, who appreciates irony, couldn't stay mad and admitted he should have seen it coming. They now play poker every second Wednesday of the month.

There is no theory of evolution, just a list of creatures Chuck Norris allows to live.

Chuck Norris once ate three 72 oz. steaks in one hour. He spent the first 45 minutes having sex with his waitress.

Chuck Norris is the only man to ever defeat a brick wall in a game of tennis.

True dat. From Cruel.com.

Watch Out, World

My old roommate's running for office. Mike was (and is, probably) a lovely Cajun fellow who taught me that just because you recently ordered three large five-topping pizzas is no reason not to make cheeseburgers. And I don't know how this will affect his campaign, but I saw him eat at least three bowls of cajun-flavored potato chips topped with chocolate ice cream. That's got to be something he'd rather hide from the voting public.

Best Baby Ever

Sabrina is interested
Originally uploaded by Uncle Mikey.

I would go further with the above statement, but so far Sabrina doesn't have discernable magic powers, so it's probably not appropriate to say she's the best baby imaginable. Yet. But she's absolutely amazing and beautiful, although still battling baby acne. She's tracking things and people remarkably well at 5 weeks old, and has been smiling (socially smiling, our pediatrician says) since about two weeks.

I remember hearing people talk about seeing their child's smile and what it meant to them, but frankly I wasn't really listening, and even if I had been I wouldn't have understood without seeing my own child's beaming face. Every other time she wakes up, it's with a huge Herman Munster grin, complete with T. Rex-style arm-waving from the elbows down, and it melts my heart every time. The other day she and Mommy took a bath together, and we found out Sabrina absolutely loves to float. She gets the happiest look on her tiny face and starts thrashing around like a hooked sunfish, cooing away and blinking when she splashes herself. It's amazing how magically such a thing can transform your day, or even week.

What a life. Between Sabrina and the Rose Bowl, we're having a fantastic 2006, despite impending back fusion surgery for me. More pics soon.

Iron Eyes Oliver

The Shame never Stops
Originally uploaded by Uncle Mikey.

He really does look miserable. I guess I should feel bad about putting a hat or other garment on him, but I figure that's well within his job description. Suck it up, Ollie. And reel back in that single tear.

Aha

Skinny Bean of Denver and I talked about this yesterday: what happens to the USC Rose Bowl 2006 Champions hats and T-shirts that were printed up before the game, and all such gear from championship events off all types? Now we know. I'm kind of disappointed, I would love erroneous championship shirts and hats and had hoped there was a market for the stuff. You could have four straight years of Buffalo Bills Super Bowl Champion stuff. That would be utterly awesome, especially if you're as big a fan as Austin's own Bob M., who also lives and dies with the Notre Dame Fighting Doberman Pinscher Genitalia. Link from Ace.

On a utterly unrelated note, some French guy tried to break an old urinal with a hammer. I find the assault thoroughly uninteresting, but am deeply dismayed that:

A 2004 poll of 500 arts figures ranked "Fountain" [the aforementioned urinal] as the most influential work of modern art - ahead of Pablo Picasso's "Les Demoiselles d'Avignon," Andy Warhol's screen prints of Marilyn Monroe and "Guernica," Picasso's depiction of war's devastation.

"Fountain" is estimated at $3.6 million.

That is truly pathetic. Modern art is a joke, apparently, and the joke's on us.

Some Behaviors are Inherited

Mike, Fred and Sabrina 2
Originally uploaded by Uncle Mikey.

My wife took this last night, I can only imagine Ollie's under the pillow in the top right of the picture or visiting the back yard facilities. Such a pretty little thing is baby Sabrina. She's been pretty grumpy for many days now, mostly feeding, crying and sleeping. My lovely wife is struggling through it all admirably.

P.S. How 'bout them Horns? That was one fantastic football game, maybe the best I've ever seen. Many lead changes, terrible defense, a delight for the senses. And Vince Young is Superman. Michael Vick is going to seem kind of small and sad next to Young when he gets to the NFL, mostly because Young is a seriously great passer and decision maker. Not a single bad throw, or move, all night.

Vince Young's going to be the #1 fantasy football draft pick for years. Two hundred yards rushing, three touchdowns and a 2-point conversion alone would be huge, but then add 30 for 40 and 267 yards passing. I'm not a fantasy guy but that has to be sick points, better than anything LaDanian Tomlinson's ever done.