Review of the Digital Reader Book from Sony

My son busted into my bedroom this morning, like the Incredible Hulk through a wall. “HAPPY FATHER’S DAY!” he said, clutching the poster.  I was still pretty sleepy as I was in the middle of exercising Father’s Day executive privilege also known as sleeping in.

Here’s how it’s done. Moms, get your kid or kids together. Next, ask them what they like about dad. If there is a baby, ask the bigger kids what the baby would say.  Next, you write these on the poster, then you let the kids decorate.  That’s it. My kids all like when I play with them, especially when we play ball. I learned that my son really thinks it’s awesome when we play slot cars together.  My daughter likes it when I help her with things when she is afraid.  She also thinks I look very handsome in my work clothes.

How can you beat that noodads? What did you get for Father’s Day?

Last weekend I saw something at Larry’s Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Julie. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety….??

WAY TOO COOL! Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two AAA batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing!

I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND; pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I’d get the blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs. AWESOME!!! Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Julie what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn’t be all that bad with only two triple-A batteries, right? There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong?

So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and taser in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries. All the while I’m looking at this little device measuring about 5′ long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and (loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-A batteries) thinking to myself, ‘no possible way!’ What happened next is almost beyond description, but I’ll do my best…?

I’m sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, ‘don’t do it. Reasoning that a one second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn’t hurt all that bad I decided to give myself a one second burst just for heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and. .

HOLY MOTHER OF *&^% . . WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION. WHAT THE *&^%!!!

I’m pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, and then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs? The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard be fore, clinging to a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an attempt to avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all over the living room.

Note: If you ever feel compelled to ‘mug’ yourself with a taser, one note of caution: there is no such thing as a one second burst when you zap yourself! You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. A three second burst would be considered conservative? SON-OF-A-*&^%, THAT HURT LIKE *&^%!!!

A minute or so later (I can’t be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from where it originally was. My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs.

I had no control over the drooling. Apparently I crapped myself, but was too numb to know for sure and my sense of smell was gone. I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head which I believe came from my hair. I’m still looking for my nuts and I’m offering a significant reward for their safe return!!

P. S. My wife loved the gift, and now regularly threatens me with it! If you think Education is difficult, try being stupid.

This post was originally published May 10, 2007. With father’s Day approaching it’s good to reflect on how Mom’s score with Mother’s Day.

The following rant is an irrational, straight-from-the-heart rambling by a sleep-deprived overworked and stressed-out father. You have been warned.

The big day for moms is coming up this sunday: Mother’s Day. It’s a time for celebrating the best thing to ever happen to you and your kids: the mom. And even though it is all nice and cheery, deep down inside, us dads who are really honest about are feelings, feel like we get the royal screwjob. There is no question that moms deserve everything they get, but dads wants some action too. Here’s why:

Reason Dads Get Screwed #1: The Timing
Mother’s have the nicest part of the year: just when people are exiting their hibernation caves and spending more time outside, Mother’s Day comes along. The flowers are blooming, the birds are chirping and people are generally in an optimistic mood.

What do dads get? Do we get the optimism of spring? Hell no. We get the beginning of the oppressive summer. We get the middle of June, wedged between Grandparents day and the Fourth of July.

Reason Dads Get Screwed #2: The Kids in School
For gradeschool and pre-school kids, the weeks leading up to Mother’s Day are filled with stories about mom, activities revolving around mom, and project time to make mom a Mother’s Day gift. As a result, moms get some seriously sentimental swag.

What do dads get? Well if your kids happen to still be in school, they certainly aren’t thinking about Father’s Day. No, they are thinking about getting the heck out of school and hitting the Slip N Slide (because the heat is so damn oppressive). They aren’t learning about why their dads are so special. They are watching movies during end-of-the-year filler days before the final dismissal.

Reason Dads Get Screwed #3: The Gifts
Life isn’t always about gifts but sometimes, the real honest dudes admit that they do like to get stuff. The differences between men and women (Mars and Venus) screws us n the department of gift giving. Here’s why it burns us

• Men are stupid. And we typically can’t get sentimental so we make up for it by buying expensive stuff. Or we buy expensive stuff for our wives and let the kids give it to them. It makes us feel better because we just can’t bear to write poetry just to get laid anymore.
• Women on the other hand, take a lot of time thinking about special gifts for their husbands. Like slippers and pajama pants. Then they have the kids hand make cards.
• But the real issue is us dads keep score. And the 2 bills we dropped on a Coach bag for mom a mere month earlier translates in our minds to anticipating 2 tickets to REO Speedwagon, The Sopranos 5th Season on DVD, or at the bare minimum the home brew beer kit we have been wanting.

Reason Dads Get Screwed #4: We Typically Don’t
Let’s face it, all men typically want is to get a little action. And most times, women don’t equate “putting out” with special events. It is a longer marinading process (Sometimes overnight). Don’t get us wrong, (if I were to take this metaphor further), the extra flavor is worth the longer marinade time, but we just wish the preparation started a day earlier so we could get some good old fashioned lovin’ on father’s day.

There you have it, noodads, the reasons why dads get screwed on Father’s Day.

If toys are like drugs, your kids grandparents are most likely the biggest dealers. But at least grandma and grandpa give the good quality stuff. Dealing with toy overflow from grandparents is an entirely different topic and one that warrants its own article.

Today, we are going to concentrate n the other stuff. To continue the metaphor, the toys you need to watch out for are from outside suppliers. They have lots of appeal but their poor quality only gives your kid a quick fix. I’m talking about the big 3: fast food places, birthday parties, and carnivals.

The toys that kids get at these 3 places are the worst. They are cheap, have lots of emotional appeal, and tend to hang around the house longer than they should. And who can blame kids? They are already in a euphoric state from their french fries and then they still get a plastic cartoon character? That is something they will hold on the rest of their lives!

Or in the case of birthday parties: “you mean to tell me I go to a fun party, give a gift to the birthday kid and then they give me a bag filled with cheap toys that are all Thomas the train themed? Cool!”

And don;t forget the carnival toys. “I threw a ring onto that bottle! That ambiguous stuffed animal that has fur that feels like fuzzy styrofoam is mine. I’m going to love it forever!”

Never fear, noodads, there is a solution. This is a process that is so elegant in its simplicity, yet took years of tweaking by me. I call it the “Holding Station Ladder System” (Patent pending).

Ever hear the phrase, “Out of sight, out of mind”? Well, as a dad you must know that for the most part your kids fall into that category with toys. The Holding Station is a simple process that involves waiting for your kids to go to sleep, and you slowly sorting and moving clusters of useless toys down the ladder system. The final stage in the ladder system being the trash can.

The number of stages really depends on how perceptive your kid is. The key is to slowly move things away from their frequently played areas of the house until they stop thinking about them and then you can dispose without ramification.

For instance: Lets say that you have a bunch of Happy Meal toys that just need to go the way of the dinosaur. Resist the urge of just throwing them away right away! If your kid starts throwing a fit and its on its way to the dump, you will regret it. Hey, it’s not worth getting into an argument with your kid over a useless toy. And you already feel guilty for being lazy and feeding your kid a hamburger and fries for dinner. Don’t make it worse by having them beg to go back to get another one of those damn toys.

So take the toys and move them out of the normal playspace into a basket or bag in another room. Make sure this has an open top. This is your holding station. If your kid asks for it within 24 hours, take it out and put it back into the general toy population. If they don’t ask about it, move it to a closed container and wait it out for another 24 hours. Still no inquiry, throw that puppy in the trash.

See how simple it is? You don’t need to rush through the process. But you do need to continue down the ladder. It’s amazing but it feels so good to even move it to the first holding station. Imagine what happens when that finally hits the bottom of the circular file.

Anyone else have ideas on throwing away crappy toys?

Check out Sky Guy here.

Where do you weigh in? Leave a comment here on Noodad or a video comment at Seesmic here.

I know that so I was doing some research online about credit checks and credit monitoring services…specifically interested in Life Lock. Life Lock is the company founded by that guy who plasters his Social Security Number on TV and buses. Turns out that his life wasn’t “locked” - some dude in TX was able to open a bank account using his SSN. Little piece of advice…don’t dare cheats - they have the time and the wherewithal to %^$# you. Life Lock is also being sued by several states. You can read all about it in this New York Times article.

Anyhow, the net net of my research effort is that there’s no bulletproof way to “lock” your life…checking your credit regularly, freezing your credit, shredding your bills…they all help. Mostly though, I’ve come to realize that it’s about assuming a defensive posture (a financial “Flying Crane” if you will) and common sense.

Get into the right mindset and some really useful ID theft prevention tips by taking a very cool ID Theft Quiz here. Answer 10 questions (none of them require personal info) and you’ll get a score and tips to improve it.

Even I, the one beer wonderkid, has been known to enjoy a brew with my pizza. Beer and pizza, they just go together. But nothing could prepare me for this: Pizza Beer. That’s right, “ale brewed with oregano, basil, tomato, and garlic.” What do you think noodads? You can buy some here.