matthearn.com

Are you a grammar nazi like me? Do you enjoy secret societies? Well then have I got a club for you!

Things are insanely busy at the moment; I’m working from home while a guy repairs our HVAC system which had asplode. In the meantime, here is a picture of pretty ladies.

I loved him most
when he came home from work,
his fingers still curled from fitting pipe,
his denim shirt ringed with sweat
and smelling of salt, the drying weeds
of the ocean. I would go to him where he sat
on the edge of the bed, his forehead
anointed with grease, his cracked hands
jammed between his thighs, and unlace
the steel-toed boots, stroke his ankles,
his calves, the pads and bones of his feet.
Then I’d open his clothes and take
the whole day inside me-the ship’s
gray sides, the miles of copper pipe,
the voice of the first man clanging
off the hull’s silver ribs, spark of lead
kissing metal, the clamp, the winch,
the white fire of the torch, the whistle
and the long drive home.

-Dorianne Laux

I bet your July 4th wasn’t as awesome as mine. Yeah? Oh yeah? Oh, you traversed the Grand Canyon on horseback, ingested more than the recommended dose of peyote, and woke up next to Anne Hathaway? Okay, you win.

Our weekend started Thursday night with a quick dinner and cake at my parents’ house, and then a lot of packing, finally getting to bed at something like 1am. We were up shortly before 7 to continue packing, rousting the offspring, and getting on the road to Strasburg, PA (home of the world famous Strasburg Railroad, which we did not see) for a lengthy family reunion of sorts at my aunt and uncle’s farm there. Upon arrival, I immediately threw my new golf clubs in my dad’s car and set out to Lancaster Host Resort for a “quick” 18 that lasted 4.5 hours. My slice and push are abysmal as ever, but I will say this: the putter is spectacular. I kept swishing 8- to 12-foot putts like I knew what I was doing, although I had a hard time getting the speed of anything longer, and as you might expect my golf game requires a great deal of long putts.

After the game we settled in for the evening at the farm, where Charles chased cows and sheep and I drank staggering amounts of beer. There was also a chicken-grilling competition; I remember eating it, but do not remember tasting it.

Saturday we loaded up and went to a nearby elementary school where I discovered the following important fact: if you are overweight and wear athletic shorts that are too snug and display every delicious contour of your ample posterior, the rest of the players will be distracted and you can go 4 for 5. If you also position yourself at a spot in the outfield where few balls get to you, you don’t have to be a defensive liability. When most of the players are over 50 or under 15, you’re not gonna have to spear a lot of line drives in center field.

My team won in dramatic fashion; down by three runs with one out in the bottom of the 7th, my uncle Marty hit an inside-the-park grand slam. After two days of lengthy athletic efforts, even two days later, I can barely walk. Muscles hurt that I guarantee did not even exist before this weekend.

In the afternoon, we ate some more food and enjoyed a beer-tasting contest, after which I fell asleep in an easy chair and completely missed the fireworks.

Sunday morning started at 5:30am, when Josephine decided she wanted to be up and around; Sarah had put the kids to bed the night before while I sawed wood, so it fell to me to entertain the child. Charles came down around 7, but we let Sarah sleep in until 8am because she needed the rest; this later turned out to be a Mistake of the first order.

We planned to go to my mom’s family’s ancestral church, Grace Lutheran, where we would all sing in the choir and play in a small brass ensemble and in general take over the musical duties of the church for the day. When I woke Sarah at 8, and told her we needed to leave for the church by 9am, she said “There’s no way that’s happening.” It had not occurred to me that she would have to get herself ready, a half-hour effort, but also feed Josephine and get her and Charles ready. It was agreed that I would ride to the church with Charles in my parents’ car, thereby making it possible for Sarah to be out the door by 10.

Went to church, had a good rehearsal, Charles behaved himself, and then around 10 I got two texts from Sarah.

You aren’t going to believe this but the car won’t start!

Help!

I called, and she said the car was making noises that indicated to me that the battery was fried, which isn’t wholly unexpected since the car’s almost 4 years old. We agreed that she’d just stay at the farm, and we’d hustle back from church and get the car jumped so we could actually drive home.

The service was very nice. I sang my big solo, which is always intoxicating to do from a balcony at the back of the church because it’s extremely enjoyable to see people’s heads whip around with looks on their faces that say “Holy crap, that guy’s loud!” Satisfying.

After the service I grabbed Charles from the nursery and we hustled on back. Grumps parked his car next to the Honda and, while he got out his jumper cables, I decided to see exactly what noise the car made when the ignition was turned. In my case it hesitated, and then started. I thought Sarah would light something on fire, but she took the news in stride; I think she had been drinking for most of the morning.

After that we drove home, spent some time at the pool, and passed out like meth addicts after a home-cooked meal.

From roflrazzi.com:

I’ll be the first to admit, she’s hot. This one right here is straight foxy:

I’d hit it. Wouldn’t vote for it in a million years, though.

THIS is brilliant: Guerilla Drive-In. John Young has an old BMW motorcycle with a sidecar on which he has mounted a 16mm movie projector. He then goes to various locations and shows films. That’s cool in and of itself, but here’s the trick: in order to find out where he’s going next you have to be on the members list. In order to be on the members list, you have to find the MacGuffin. This is so awesome it makes my loins ache.

Crazy busy today, so posting may be light, but my friend Sarah sent this to me and I enjoyed the hell out of it:

Stand By Me | Playing For Change | Song Around The World from Concord Music Group on Vimeo.

Before I share this with you, you should know that some of the raddest people I know are vegans. This still made me lulz:

Remember the other day when I linked you to BLDG BLOG? You need to go check out a post on there with plot ideas for Ghostbusters III. I have to say, I would watch this so hard:

It’s 1997. NYNEX is on the verge of being purchased by Bell Atlantic, after which point it will be dissolved in all but name. But all hell starts breaking loose. Pay phones ring for no reason, and they don’t stop. Dead relatives call their families in the middle of the night. People, horrifically, even call themselves – but it’s the person they used to be, phoning out of the blue, warning them about future misdirection.

Every once in a while, though, something genuinely bad happens: someone answers the phone… and they go a little crazy.

Thing is – spoiler alert – halfway through the film, the Ghostbusters realize that NYNEX isn’t a phone system at all: it’s the embedded nervous system of an angel – a fallen angel – and all those phone calls and dial-up modems in college dorm rooms and public pay phones are actually connected into the fiber-optic anatomy of a vast, ethereal organism that preceded the architectural build-up of Manhattan.

Manhattan came afterwards, that is: NYNEX was here first…

I don’t think it’d be a bad movie, actually.

It would be a fantastic movie.