State Fair memories made

at least a month ago, Weird Al Yankovic performed at the State Fair Coliseum. my brother is a huge fan.
I have to admit, i liked Weird Al enough when i was 8 or 9, but other than Amish Paradise and the American Pie/Star Wars parody, i haven't kept up with his work.
still, i was really excited for my brother when he told me that dad had gotten tickets for them plus one of bro's friends. i knew he'd have lots of fun, and was impressed by the fact that dad actually bought the tickets for them.
but then.
mom called me one day to ask if i had plans that night...because it seems that my bro's friend had said he could go, but in fact had to visit his grandmother that weekend. great.
so they had an extra ticket.
the concert was to be on a thursday night, and i knew i had to work the next morning, and estimated that i wouldn't get home until 11 pm at the earliest. so i tried to shuffle out of saying yes, encouraging mom to brainstorm. there had to be some other high-school guy who liked Weird Al! i really didn't want to admit to anyone i knew that i would be going to the Weird Al state fair concert.
but then.
mom pulled out the big guns, saying, "well, he said you're his first choice for someone to invite."
well, geez, i can't say no to that.
it was actually a really fun time. so weird to hang out w/ my bro as a sophomore.

at the concert, we had great floor seats, in folding chairs. i was tired from our state fair gallivanting, and had propped my feet up on the seat in front of me. dad noticed, of course.
"you know, you can't do that. i'm sure someone will be sitting there."

"yeah, dad, i know. but right now, the whole row's empty, so i think it'll be fine."

"well, yeah, but security doesn't like it." looking around furtively, "if they see you, they'll probably come talk to you."

"okay. i'm willing to risk it."

a bit later, still pre-show, my brother was talking about how cool the concert would be, and out of nowhere, dad starts talking about how "a person" could make a lot of money by videotaping it. he laid down his theory about how there are digital cameras all over the coliseum, and the guards can't possibly be aware of who is snapping pictures and who is recording.
my brother and i looked at each other silently, then back at our dad.
"dad, that's illegal."

"I know, but you could make a LOT of money!" he was smiling, eyebrows raised, looking like a 12-year-old.

"wow, dad. this from the man who warned me against putting my feet on the seat in front of me."

and yeah, the concert was awesome. and i'm not ashamed to tell you that.

http://www.lost.eu/ff0f

another Dad time

here's another typical conversation with my dad.

again in the car, he was reminiscing about a trip he took a few summers ago, driving up to Alaska with my mom and brother.

"I'd really like to do that all over again. This time I'd go to Seattle, then take the ferry up to Alaska. Wouldn't that be nice?"

me: "no. I'd go crazy being on a ferry for that long. There's not enough room."

"How long do you think it is?"

"Just a few days, but still. You'd see the same people, and just water with nowhere to get away from everything."

"Aw, no, the ferry isn't small! You could get lost on it...it would be about the size of the ferry we were on..."

"Dad, i've never been on a ferry with you."

"...Well, it would be about the same, maybe a little bigger than the one Mom and your brother and i took in Alaska."

"And how would I know how big that was?"

"Well, ok."

Here he took some time to think, and i could see the mental cogs churning through the muck, working on coming up with an excellent comparison for the size of that ferry. If you know my dad, you know that these pauses are interminable. People have gotten master's degrees in the length of these pauses.
So i interrupted the process, hoping to divert his attention.
"Anyway, it's still not big enough to get lost on."

"Oh yeah, it's all twisty down in there." He motioned like a snake's movements with his hand.

I didn't feel like pursuing this any further, so i didn't point out that curvy hallways do not constitute being lost. these conversations make me want to just close my eyes and not hear or speak for about an hour.

the Lutheran 'not'

okay, i know that, in person, the stories i tell get kind of long, convoluted, and troublesome to listen to.
but i just heard the worst story ever, from my dad.
we were in the car, and he was talking about an old pastor/professor friend of his from Luther Seminary. the story was something about how the pastor was misquoted by a newspaper article one Easter, decades ago.

Dad: "He was talking about Easter and the resurrection, and what happened was, they left out the 'not'. So when we read it, we knew it sounded unlike anything this professor would have said."

Me: "How? What did the paper say?"

Dad, smiling in excitement for his story: "They didn't put the 'not' in, so it was totally different than what it should've been."

Me: "...What are you talking about? What was the quote?"

Dad: "Well, i don't remember it anymore, i just know that they left out a 'not,' or put a 'not' in where it didn't go...or maybe it was a 'no,' or a 'not,' added. Or a 'no' or a 'not' accidentally left out. I don't remember exactly anymore, but it made the statement inconsistent with Lutheran theology."

Me: "WHAT 'NOT?'"

Dad: "I don't know, but it changed the whole meaning of what he said, and it didn't sound Lutheran anymore."

at this point, the wind had gone out of his sails, and he realized the irony, or whatever it was, in this story was not getting through to me. it was great how he said, 'i don't remember exactly.' i wanted to say, 'dad, you don't even remember abstractly at this point. you should never tell this story again.'

the thing is, i KNOW he's tried to tell me this before, a number of years ago. and still The Lutheran Not evades me. and my dad.

winter McCraphead

so, we got like, a foot of snow last night. puke.

the weather people on the local news were out interviewing Joe Everyman last night, talking about the possibility of more snow coming our way, and one teen at a ski slope said, "We need, like, foots and foots of it."

well, we got a foots. but we really don't need any more foots. if spring doesn't hit soon, i'm afraid i'll turn goth or something and write bad slam poetry expressing my rage at nature. nobody wants that.

gypsy morning

a few days ago, i was riding w/ dad toward Minneapolis at 5:30 a.m. and the fog was so thick, we could only see about 15 yards in front of the car. the world is very quiet at that hour. it was still dark, and it was easy to imagine that we were nomads (probably gypsies) trying to cover as much ground that day as we could, braving the dangers of the early darkness to try to reach our destination.
for a while there was a car just far enough ahead of us on the road that all i could make out were its fuzzy red tail lights. so i decided those were the glowing red eyes of some dangerous creature, watching our caravan. actually, unless you knew to look for the lights, they were very easy to miss, making them even creepier.
i had all sorts of other metaphorical substitutions for things i saw along the way, but by the time we reached the suburbs, the game was wearing off, and there's really no mystical explanation for a HOM store or a McDonald's. but it's easy to think that way when it's 5:30 and i've been up for 15 minutes.

dream poetry

in my dream last night, i was writing something between a story and a poem.
i remember it was about a woman, but the only specific words i recall now were in a poem segment.
"she and her decaf perfection"

it was one line. i thought the poem was really good in my dream. maybe it was, though i don't like writing poetry in my waking life.

do you sometimes wish that you could freeze time, jump to another plane of time at the same point in your life, and try something different to see how it would work out? then, if it was awesome, you could stay there, but if not, you could pop back to the previous life and continue where you left off. at least you'd know what would've happened.
sometimes i wish that.

it's fun to be older

a couple of days ago, the needle on the thermometer crept above 40 degrees, so i decided to go on my first jog of 2006. i convinced Bro to rollerblade along w/ me.
he gives me something to listen to besides my heaving lungs, and offers encouragement by saying things like, "come on, you're doing really good. if i were you i would've stopped after one block." and other pearls like, "good job, keep going. geez, what you're doing is much harder than what i'm doing, and I'm getting tired! good for you!"
at least he's trying.

anyway, we were on the last quarter mile, and as he told me a story about his day at school, his voice squeaked in the middle of a word. i smiled, but said nothing (which i'm proud of, since that's the first of those i've heard from him). he finished the sentence, paused, and said, "wow. that was weird."
i laughed and he continued, "yesterday in school that happened to me like, four times."
as i ran, i looked over at him and yelled, "PUBERTYYY!"
he turned red, but smiled down at the ground and muttered, "shut up."

the next year will be fun.

too bad he's already at least 5'8", which means i'm not the next-tallest to Dad anymore. and he weighs at least 10 pounds more than me, so i'm gonna have to watch the teasing, so i don't get flattened and/or farted on. still, it's funny to have a little brother.

dating tips for siblings

My thirteen year-old brother brought home a paper from school this week intended to spark discussion between teen and parent. Topic: dating. It had six questions, but writing answers was optional, as long as a parent signed the bottom of the page showing a discussion had taken place.
When I entered the kitchen, Mom and Bro seemed to be having a serious discussion so I tried to get in and out, causing as little discomfort for Bro as possible, but Mom stopped me and explained the assignment to see if I had any advice.

"If you go to a movie, don't buy chewy candy that will stick in your teeth. Always go to the bathroom immediately afterwards to check your teeth and make sure nothing is in them."

"Be prepared for Mom and Dad to make you have an earlier curfew than any of your friends."

"Bowling and pool are fun, but not if you're really good and she's not. She'll be nervous, so don't take her out to do something you're a whiz at."

I was apparently being too specific w/ my advice, according to Mom.

Later at supper, I added a postscript:
"You know, just do what you're comfortable with. Nothing is the end of the world, even though everything seems like it."

Bro said, "Well, what if we're on a date and then me and the girl are stopped by a street full of prophets proclaiming 'The end of the world is upon us!'?"

"Then that is the worst date that girl has ever been on."

He gave a little laugh and added, "but what if we couldn't help but run into them?"

"Well, she's still never going to call you again."

"...Crap," he whispered down at his plate.