shermanhood

[shermanhood]

School relics

I recently unearthed a large box of papers, books and projects from my formative elementary school years from my mom’s attic and, with my oldest child starting kindergarten this week, I thought it might be fun to sift through my work to see roughly what kind of output I could expect from Elliott over the next six years. And, along with being terrifying, embarrassing and, frankly, confusing, it WAS fun. Here are a few gems I uncovered:

First of all, to anyone who may not have remembered me as one of the “cool” kids, take a look at this folder I had in elementary school and fucking suck it.

For the record, that guy has 3 bandanas, 0 tied shoes and 38 different shades of pastels on just the lower half of his body. Now on to the fun stuff. Posted on to the cover of an illustrated book is this lovely not from one of my teachers.

“...Nice to see that kind of effort from you! Better stick to cursive!”

This is beautiful and perfect and could probably be applied to every endeavor I’ve attempted in the past 25 years.

“Woah! Look who actually tried for once! Don’t strain yourself with all of that time and attention to detail. But seriously... are you feeling ok? And also, your handwriting is atrocious.”

My handwriting has been the bane of my existence and one of my calling cards for decades. My elementary school sent home report cards with 1s, 2s and 3s (1s being the highest) instead of letter grades and they covered close to 50 areas ranging from academic achievement to playing well with others. Since grade school was the only period in my life where I could be labeled as an over-achiever, I prided myself on brandishing that yellow sheet of carbon paper laden with 1s (except for the 2s I received in Music from 70-year-old Mr. Jones who never gave anyone in the school of a few hundred students anything but a 2 because he gave zero shits.)

The only other exceptions to attaining 8-year-old perfection usually came under the categories of Organization and Penmanship. Every semester that 2-minus would mock me (but not enough for me to actually try and improve it. As we have just seen, I put effort into that project from 3rd grade so I was spent for the next few years.) In 5th grade, my teacher got so fed up with my messy desk that she also marked me down under the category of Respects Personal Property which was a stone cold move.

If anything, my handwriting has continued to deteriorate over the years but, fortunately, the value of legible writing has dramatically decreased. Thanks, internet! Thankfully the bank still accepts my checks when my signature looks like a Bic pen hastily ejaculated. It came back to haunt me, however, when I was the one who filled out Elliott's emergency contact form for kindergarten and, when it came back, they had transposed 2 phone numbers incorrectly, misspelled my wife's first name and the school she works for and typed my mother-in-law's last name (Wescott) as Wesgh. 

Ironically, my job actually requires me to take copious amounts of hand-written notes. I have a vivid memory of studying for a final with a friend during my freshman year of college. We were going over our notes and got to an item I had written that neither of us could read. We both found it hilarious and astonishing that I had written something that I literally could not decipher or remember, so much so that we spent the better part of an hour taking the paper around to other people in the dorm to see if anyone could make it out. Look back on it, I have no idea why that situation was deemed so noteworthy because now? That shit happens to me every single week. Here...

That’s a page from my current notebook. And it’s all like that. Every page. You, at home, would be lucky to comprehend 20% of it. I can read 75-80% of it which doesn’t bode well for attributing quotes accurately. When I fill up a notebook, part of me just wants to leave it on a table at a public library to confound and befuddle passersby but I’d be afraid that anyone who tries to decode its mysteries would be hunted down and killed by a crazed, albino monk.

Here we have one in a slew of books written and bound by our school’s “Publishing House” which consisted of a handful of parent volunteers that had to transpose pages and pages of Transformers fan-fic and stories about princesses riding unicorns, bind them and send them back to the classrooms.

This particular story was spawned after the Zoomobile brought in a handful of animals and I thought it would be more interesting if they married each other. In the book, the duck and the silky chicken get married because inter-species couplings would be an abomination to the sanctity of animal marriage.

Two things stood out to me in the book. The first was this page:

“The rabbit was the animal who said all the stuff...” At this point in my life, I had been attending church for 7 years but I still did not know the word for pastor, minister of justice of the peace.

Second, the book tells the tale of these two birds who are about to get married until a snake scares the duck. The animal who says all the stuff tracks him down and the wedding continues. Except... after they get married, there is a four-page postscript in which the duck and chicken go home, have supper, go to the store in the morning to get more food, come home, eat the food and live happily ever after. That is how my 7-year-old brain comprehended the entirety of marriage and, I have to say, I kind of nailed it.

Finally for today, I came across this scribbled in barely competent cursive about halfway through an old reading and writing log:

“On Halloween you go trick or treating. If people don’t give you candy you give them a beating. Halloween.”

I’m not sure if this was just something I decided to write while I was bored one day or if this was an actual sentence put up on the board for us to copy in cursive. I don’t care. There is no bad scenario here.

[shermanhood]

Yelp reviews of my kids' restaurants: Volume 2

I ventured into the new establishment Hunter’s Food today and was pleasantly surprised by my experience despite some eccentricities in the service. When I walked in, I was told to put my name on the list. Considering the restaurant was empty and no other name was on the list, I was seated immediately.

I was promptly asked what I wanted to order and, when I asked to see a menu, I was told I didn’t need one because the restaurant served “everything... including smoothies.” This seemed odd to me but, I ordered spaghetti and was then asked, rather expectantly by the server, what I would like to drink. I asked for a soda and there was a long pause but, to my great pleasure, I was told that “well, all of our sodas also come with a free smoothie!”

While I may have reservations about this business model, I certainly was not going to pass up my complimentary menu item. Before getting my meal, the server came back and showed me his restaurant’s smoothie machine, which he seemed quite proud of. The server also may have been new to the industry as he referred to me as “Dad” more than once before getting embarrassed and correcting my title to “Sir”.

The meal was made quickly and delivered in an odd assortment of receptacles. The server described the origin of each dish, saying that the spaghetti came from Africa and that the soda was from Idaho. I asked if that meant that the soda was potato flavored and was, perhaps rightly met with a puzzled but polite smile at my cheap joke.

The meal was delicious but my experience took a slight turn when, as I was getting ready to pay, another customer entered and was ushered to my exact table. That customer, a patent rule-follower to say the least, then proceeded to crawl up into my lap.

3.5 stars

[shermanhood]

My son built an elaborate airport in his room this morning with a control tower, Thai restaurant, waiting rooms, moving sidewalk, runway and luggage carousel. However, he spent the first 10 minutes trying to solve a dispute at the x-ray machine and ultimately kicked Luke Skywalker off his flight to New York for carrying a light saber. On the one hand I fear that, if this is his idea of exciting play, he's going to grow up to be an accountant but, on the other hand, get it together Luke Skywalker. That's a clear violation and you're lucky you weren't arrested.

[shermanhood]

This is a legit, well-known, well-loved clown in the Portland area. BJ the Clown. BJ... the clown... regularly performing at suburban children's parties... specializing in balloon animals. BJ... This is a press photo... of BJ the Clown.

[shermanhood]

Moms are pretty much the best. But just because many of them are amazing and lovely and badass doesn't mean they don't have their moments of frustration with their children. Or that they don't sometimes think they might even hate them.

Oh..

[shermanhood]

This was taken on Music Appreciation Morning at our house. After listening to excerpts of "pop music" (Robyn) and "rock and roll" (Radiohead) we put on Kind of Blue for our introduction to jazz. This was my 5-year-old's reaction. My 3-year-old is in the background desperately trying to click out of Spotify because "this is scary music!" Ironically, this is the same face I make when the boys want to put on the Frozen soundtrack again.

[shermanhood]

Children's Book Reviews with Matt: Wait! Wait! Wait!

When you read enough mediocre children's book, they start to blend together, falling into formulaic pattern of blandness. For example, you can pretty much guess 95% of the plot of any Berenstain Bears book just by looking at the cover. There's going to be a minor behavioral issue with their cubs, Papa Bear is either going to become an even larger part of the problem or exacerbate the issue, Mama Bear will passive-aggressively undermine and belittle him and the cubs will presumably learn a lesson.

There's nothing wrong with these pedantic morality tales as children may heed a modicum of the stories' advice and apply it to their impressionable lives. Although, I didn't need to read Make Way for Ducklings to inherently know not to intentionally swerve into a flock of Canada Geese on the side of the road. But when you read dozens upon dozens of these same types of books, it can become mind-numbing.

That's where the Sweet Pickles series comes in. Sweet Pickles is comprised of 40 children's books that gained popularity in the 80s. They center around the town of Sweet Pickles which is home to 26 anthropomorphic characters with alliterative names that also define their personalities such as Bashful Bear and Clever Camel. I vaguely remember seeing a few of these books growing up but we recently inherited most of the entire set that my wife had as a little girl. I started reading a few of them to my boys... and they are absolutely bananas.

You would think that, with the premise of 26 different books plus a few spin-offs involving characters who are prone to jealousy, gluttony, vanity etc... that they would fall under the same pattern of the Berenstain Bears. And yet... in every one single book, no one learns a damn thing.

According to the Sweet Pickles Wikipedia page, the books were retired because, despite featuring one book per letter of the alphabet, the books also don't even attempt to teach children that particular letter. It's just a delightful monument to half-assed-ness all around.

The endings of all of these books are so outrageously insane compared to the normal ebbs and flows of most children's literature, that I have found myself literally gasping or breaking out laughing at the final page. And our poor, equalitarian Elliott. He is baffled by these books, always certain that there is a missing page or that I didn't tell it right.

In some ways it's refreshing and at least more true to life. Sometimes people are just shitty and you can't do anything about it. Zany Zebra can't change his stripes. And sometimes really awful things just happen and nothing gets resolved.

Which brings me to my review and analysis of Wait! Wait! Wait! one of the addendums to the original 26 stories. Wait! Wait! Wait! features Responsible Rabbit as its protagonists, one of the town's more respectable citizens as his defining trait is that he is also adhering to a very busy schedule. Compared to Temper Tantrum Turtle of Accusing Aligator, Responsible Rabbit seems like he at least wouldn't be a nightmare to make small talk with at a social gathering. There's also, I kid you not, X-Rated Xerus, who looks like this and whose defining trait is allegedly that he writes signs and doesn't allow anything... and he absolutely has a sex dungeon in his house.

But getting back to the story at hand, this was the first Sweet Pickles book I read to Elliott and it still blows my mind. It begins with Rabbit in line at the supermarket. Judging from the lay-out of the checkout counter, the small carts, the fact that the town's resident hippie Zany Zebra is shopping there and the sketchy customer service, is almost certainly a Trader Joe's.

Rabbit is getting frustrated, checks his watch and states that he has been waiting for more than 14 minutes. That is a LONG time to be waiting in line to buy groceries. From someone who gets viscerally angry when a person in front of me suddenly breaks out an envelope stuffed with coupons, this scenario already has my blood pressure up. Rabbit has perishables here. Milk, eggs, cheese. 14 minutes? Open up another lane!

On the next page, Enormous Elephant, the checker, addresses the problem and says he's working as fast as he can. OK, Elephant, I get it. If you're the only worker available and you're slammed, that sucks. Do what you can, just try and keep it moving. Rabbit then has an outburst saying “I have now been waiting in this line for exactly 15 minutes and you want me to be patient?!” Woah. Pump the brakes, Rabbit. You could see this was a long line when you got in it. If you had somewhere to be, you could have just left your groceries and come back later. Taking your frustration beyond some sarcastic finger tapping and eye-rolls makes you the jackass in the store.

Rabbit is now one one person away from the counter when Elephant takes a phone call and starts writing an order. That's a clown move Elephant. You've got a line about 10 people deep. Goof-off Goose was ASLEEP next to her cart in the last frame! You do not answer that phone.

Now Rabbit is starting to lose it and shouts that he's going to miss his bus. Elephant, to his credit, keeps his cool. It is finally Rabbit's turn when Loving Lion comes up to the counter and says he can't find the garlic powder, to which Elephant says “I moved all the spices next to the soups. Here, I'll show you,” and walks to the back of the store.

Fuck. You. Enormous Elephant. A total dick move made purely out of spite towards Rabbit for his impatience that also screws over the more polite customers waiting in line! And shame on you too, Loving Lion! You see the line! Elephant just told you exactly where the product was. You're going to allow him to walk you all the way to the back of the store? For garlic powder? Get your act together!

Now Rabbit completely loses his shit and understandably so. He hastily bags his own food, throws money on the counter and leaves. I don't blame him... And look at the expressions on Elephant and Lion's faces. They're screwing with him and they think it's hilarious.

Now Rabbit rushes to the bus stop where there is another line. The bus is late. Yakety Yak is on a pay phone and says that he passed the bus in his taxi and that it ran out of gas.

Yak is trying to call Jackal at the gas station to fill up the bus but, get this, Jackal is stuck in line at the supermarket! Oh Sweet Pickles this is quite the Mexican Standoff you have concocted! This town has been thrown into gridlock because Trader Joe's is short-staffed.

Rabbit then asks Yak to give him a ride home in his taxi to which Yak replies “You'll have to wait a while. This is my lunch hour.” Why is everyone in Sweet Pickles so incompetent?! The grocery store has a 20-minute wait time? The bus driver runs out of gas? The cab driver is going to turn down a potential goldmine of business because he's on his break during what is likely the town's rush hour?

So Rabbit starts to walk home instead. At this point we realize that Rabbit doesn't really have anywhere he needs to be. He just wants to get home. A relatable plight certainly but not one entirely worthy of his histrionics either.

Rabbit begins to run through the park and, of course, his hastily-packed grocery bag rips, destroying his groceries. At that exact moment, Positive Pig comes by and says “Don't let a little accident discourage you. It's a beautiful day!” Positive Pig... you are the absolute LAST resident of Sweet Pickles that we want to see right now. I'd take encountering X-rated Xenus alone in the park at dusk 100 times over someone who's perpetually optimistic.

Pig is conveniently carrying a plastic bag and helps salvage some of Rabbit's groceries. She then offers to take Rabbit to the movies to cheer him up. Rabbit, in a move belying his incessant busyness, agrees, displaying a crack in his unchangeable personality. This day has been so awful and maddening that he is willing to slow down and simply watch a movie.

The pair walk out of the park and Rabbit screams. The line to the theater goes all the way around the block. And that's the end. This isn't a children's book! It's a Kafka-esque nightmare narrated by Werner Herzog!

“It vas then zee Rabbit vas able to see inside himself. He vas trapped in a prison of his own making. Zee rabbit could never be satisfied. He could never rest. There would always be another appointment. A menial task. Another line. His need to keep moving... the only thing that would drown out the unyielding ticking... of his wristwatch.”  

[shermanhood]

Yelp reviews of my kids' restaurants: Volume 1

I don't usually write reviews but my experience at “Restaurant Away” recently compelled me to say something. The service was prompt with the server greeting me and asking for my order almost immediately. He asked me what kind of sushi I wanted and I asked for tuna.

He bruskly told me that “if you look at the menu it says we don't have tuna.” Now, it must be noted that I was not provided a menu when I sat down, nor was I given enough time to even contemplate my order had I received a menu. I then asked what kind of sushi they had and the waiter told me they had “every kind of fish except tuna” which seemed rather snarky to me. Moments later he informed me that they DID, in fact, have tuna but they were out and his “assistant” would need to run to the store to get it so it would take a few minutes.

At this point I simply asked for whatever sushi he thought was good. He informed me that his assistant would go get me tuna (which seems to defeat the purpose of owning your own restaurant) and then he told me he was changing the restaurant's name to “Tuna Tuna” which, again, seemed like he was mocking me for selecting something that they did not carry. He and his assistant then disappeared and could be heard laughing while cooking for an excessively long amount of time and, after a few minutes, seemed to forget that they owned a restaurant entirely. I eventually got up and left... still hungry.

2 stars.

[shermanhood]

We are in the process of deciding which elementary school to send our oldest child for kindergarten. This is a banner picture on one of the school's websites.

At least the pig had the decency to put on sensible shorts before etching himself into these kids' nightmares.

[shermanhood]

Pre-kids, I could have and would have lit this nest of spider babies on fire with a lighter. 

Post-kids, I had to promise my son I wouldn't get too close so as not to harm Charlotte's babies which then became a boring learning experience.

Kids ruin everything.

[shermanhood]

My 5-year-old hit a big milestone today... drawing his first accidental penis. For the record, this is supposedly a drawing of a gumball machine.