Taco Del Fuhriman: Now Serving Pixie Tacos

Along with learning to live with an actual human since Jess and I got married, I have been learning to live with Pixie (she's the dog you see in half our pictures -- the other half she's the one taking the pictures). This is no small task, since I a) haven't had a dog since Chips treed Andrew Knaupp in the back yard maple when I was about 5 or 6, and b) I am allergic to dogs (and cats, but this didn't seem to stop my family from having them while I grew up).





But she likes me now, is excited when I come home and we have a great time. I do frankly get some/a lot of crap for her being a "small dog," but whatever -- her turds are that much smaller and easier to pick up, and I am comfortable enough in my manliness (Ricki Lake documentary notwithstanding) to have whatever size dog I darn well please.



She likes to play a lot, and one game we taught each other is the one in the below video: I say "Picky Taco," she jumps in her bed and then tries to bite my hand through the bottom of the bed as I fold the bed in two, not unlike a silky blue tortilla of Yorkishness. It may not seem all that interesting to you, but it's hilarious to us:

I Heart Wikipedia

Yes, that was me. I was the kid laying on the carpet in his living room reading the World Book Encyclopedia for fun. What can I say? When you grow up in rainy Oregon winters in a family of girls and Atari hasn't been introduced yet (at least to my family, not exactly early technology adopters those dear parents of mine), you turn to a) puddle activities, including splashing yourself and others, damming and creating tributaries and collecting worms, or b) reading the World Book Encyclopedia.



Wikipedia, my friends, is my new World Book. It's amazing the type of information you find when you just start searching. For instance, for whatever reason I came across an entry in Wikipedia for "mass hysteria" (probably was reading up on the Jonas Brothers or something) with the following instances:

• The Dancing Plague of 1518 in Strasbourg France, where scores of people danced for days and weeks without stopping, to the point of exhaustion and eventually death (And yes, there was evidence of Kevin Bacon shimmy dance moves and Kenny Loggins music found on site)


• The 1962 Laughter Epidemic in Tanzania that apparently began at grammar school when someone told a joke that people laughed at -- and kept laughing, and laughing... interestingly and ironically scientists believe the incident began as a result of stress. Go figure.


• The widespread belief in South Korea (still today) that leaving a fan on overnight could result in death. I can unequivocally refute this one, since I sleep with a fan on about 350 nights a year.


• The Loveland Lizard of Loveland, Ohio that when first sighted in 1955 was said to smell of "alfalfa and almonds." My, such a nice-smelling lizard! I think this one may just be ALF, folks...


• The New Delhi Monkeyman (seen below looking like The Great Gazoo (who has HIS OWN WIKIPEDIA ENTRY HERE) from the Flintstones with the helmet) which set off panic in the streets of New Delhi in 2001 and was last seen boarding a plane to Moscow (really?! Boarding a PLANE?! How does a monkey man get a passport?)

And this is just what I found in about 15 minutes of time.

And rest assured, NONE of this was in my World Book.

Once, Twice, Three Times A Baby

Back in March I got a call from my sister to call her when I get a chance. Now, I love my sister and we're tight, but it's not like we have urgent business to discuss all that much. I had a couple options of what was going on that made her call with a request for a call back soon:

• she was coming to Oregon to visit (if you know Catherine, this is not unusual -- she falls asleep wrong and wakes up in another state if not another country)


• she had a free ticket to go with Matt and her to Djibouti or something -- also not unusual, given that I traveled with her to Austria for a week one time on 2 week's notice since Matt had a trial come up, and we kind of ended up in New Zealand on a whim.


• she had her identity stolen and needed to borrow mine (she's had this happen before, but thankfully for her she didn't need mine at any point)


• She was pregnant.

She and Matt have been trying for a looooong time, so naturally I was hoping it was the last option (I mean c'mon, Djibouti in March? Not all that exciting. Everyone knows that's the off-season on the Red Sea). I popped in my oft-reviled Jawbone headset on the way home and gave her a call from traffic. I don't remember the whole conversation, but the Cliff's Notes version is:

Cath -- "Dave, you know how we've been trying to have a baby?'

Dave -- "Yeeeeeeeeaahhhh" (with an ever-increasing pitch)

Cath -- "Well, we're pregnant with five."

Dave -- "Babies?!"

Well, after several months of drama, bed-rest, and daring road-trips to my wedding, my sister gave birth to three healthy babies (one girl, two boys) on Tuesday! Such a blessing, we are so grateful that everything went pretty well and babies and momma are OK. Thirty toes and thirty fingers. I can't wait to meet them! They haven't decided on names, but I have a couple suggestions:

• Alpha, Bravo and Charlie


• Peter, Paul and Mary


• Bacon, Lettuce and Tomato


• Snap, Crackle and Pop


• Butcher, Baker and Candlestickmaker (OK, I guess Maker could be a middle name)


• Alvin, Simon and Theodore


• Nina, Pinta and Santa Maria

CONGRATS TO MATT AND CATHERINE!

Random Musings...

I've been writing and crying and whining on this blog thing for several months now, but what more do you REALLY know about me since I started it? What, that I'm incoherent under general anesthesia? That I don't enjoy watching R.icki Lake give birth? That I'm great at picking out hot chicks in pageants? That I have a weak Achilles tendon? OK, but what BESIDES that? Here are some things I've been thinking about as I sit in the Salt Lake City Airport Courtyard Marriott, Room 345:

• When I was about 5 years old, I was convinced that I had invented skipping. Don't ask me why I thought that, except that perhaps I was the first person in my neighborhood to do it. That may be true, except for the likely fact that my older sisters had probably skipped in front of me before... so actually I must have just been delusional, my friends.
• Try as I might, I never feel like I have put the right amount of ice in any fountain drink. It's frustrating and annoying, but I always tenderly touch the lever of the ice dispenser, rhythmically tapping the lever like the pecks on Jessica's cheek as I leave each morning (awwwwww....) until I feel as if I've gone OVER the amount of ice I would like. What is that amount, you ask? It's the amount where the last morsel of the last cube melts just as I take my last sip of the soda. And yet, I have never found that perfect amount.
• I think too much about ice at the soda fountain.
• When I misspell a word when I type, I have to go back to the beginning of the word and restart. Absolutely inefficient, but in my mind for some reason necessary ( I did it twice in this sentence alone).
• If I decide to re-phrase an entire sentence or paragraph, instead of selecting the entire paragraph and pressing the Delete key once I will feverishly press the Delete key or just hold it down. Again, inefficient. Is this some disorder I should be aware/scared of? Can someone let me know?
• I put the over/under on my crying moments during Olympics coverage at 10. First of all, I plan on watching a lot of it, and second, I am a sucker for the heartstrings-pulling stories with soft camera tones and Kenny G soundtracks that NBC and that jerk B.ob Costas pull out almost every hour.
• I already turned in my man card after watching the R.icki Lake documentary, so don't ask for it again after that last bullet point. It's being held for me until further notice at the Mad Greek Deli on West Union Road.
• Most surprising artist I have lots of songs from on my iPod: Sade. I have her Greatest Hits.
• Second most surprising iPod artist: Positive K ("What's your man got to do with me?" "I got a man" "I ain't tryin' to hear that, see?")
• Jessica found 3 gray hairs on my head a couple months ago. I blame work.
• I always choose the aisle on a plane. If I have checked luggage, I choose an aisle in the back of the plane (less likely to have someone next to me and I have to wait at Baggage Claim anyway). If I only have carry-ons, I try to get as close to the front as possible (I once stowed away in the cockpit just to be the first off the plane).
• If I'm flying internationally, I always order a special meal -- initially I went with kosher (if a rabbi blesses it, it CAN'T be too bad), but it got annoying because every individual plate had to be shrink-wrapped which took a lot of time and effort to get off. I now opt either for low-fat or high-fiber meals when available. At any rate, the special meal is the way to go since you get your meal before anyone else and it makes you feel kind of special (OK, maybe that's just me. And there's another way to feel special on a plane: fly First Class, punk!)
• Songs that always get me going when I work out: Snap's "The Power," The Who's "Baba O'Riley" and Cake's "The Distance."
• I would rather drive an extra 15 miles if it means not sitting in traffic. If you want to see me at my worst, sit with me in traffic. I hate all of humanity and wish various and sundry plagues on anyone in front of me who lets someone cut in front of them. I'm ashamed, but it's true.

OK, perhaps that's enough information for now. I'm tired, and still crying from Mr. Costas' last tribute to Nicaraguan table tennis.

One Small, Limping, Semi-Step for Dave

There are some famous steps in the world...

Neil Armstrong's ALLEGED first on the Cheese Planet...

The Spanish Steps of Rome (everyone says these are amazing, but they look pretty normal to me. Help please?)

And of course, the 5 steps set forth by those sages of the 80's, The New Kids, to "get to you girl":

1. We can have lots of fun (that's a capability, not a step)
2. There's so much we can do (See above)
3. It's just you and me (Thanks Captain Obvious, but where did our court-appointed supervisor go?)
4. I can give you more (We knew that when we first heard you)
5. Don't you know that the time is right (It WAS)

But in terms of my most important steps, the one I took out of the orthopedist's office Thursday ranks up there. After more than two months of some kind of hindrance or contraption on my leg, I left the office with two shoes on my feet (never mind the lifts I have to wear, thus breaking the Little Person's Code of Ethics made famous by Seinfeld) and with pride in my heart.

As I awkwardly and break-dancingly sauntered down the hallway, a tough old man with tennis elbow turned and looked at me and, with a tear rolling down his whiskered cheek, loudly started a slow clap -- first 2 seconds between claps, then slowly decreasing the gap between claps and joined by an ever-increasing mass of mangled-limbed humanity that crescendoed into an enormous ovation as I herky-jerkied into the elevator and down to my waiting automobile.

Wish I had a camera, so I could prove to all of you that I am totally not lying and didn't practically trip on my spaghetti leg the moment I left the waiting room. I wish.