My avatar: Nasty Canasta, the ill-tempered frontier mesomorph who tormented Daffy Duck in two cowboy-themed cartoons before running into the Bugs Bunny buzz-saw in Alaska.
5:45 a.m. -- As consciousness dawns I find myself splayed out on the downstairs sofa, where I was sitting when sleep came to claim me sometime late last evening.
Apparently I was watching the J.J. Abrams version of Star Trek (a nice little distraction, but under-written and thoroughly Deutero-canonical, in my opinion) when I succumbed to exhaustion's irrepressible seduction. That explains why one of the characters in my dream was speaking in Zachary Quinto's voice, I suppose.
Time to get the blood circulating again....
6:30 -- After taking a few minutes to check my e-mail and update the main blog (and to spend some time with my fingers on a fretboard -- it would be nice to find a gig to bring in some money), it's time to give Katrina a bath.
6:50 -- Isaiah and Jefferson are awake and wanting to watch a movie, preferably via the family internet connection. William is always the last to get up; some previously undiscovered Newtonian law dictates that he would sleep forever unless compelled to get out of bed. I can't imagine how someone with my genetics could be a slug-a-bed....
7:00 -- William demanded a cold lunch. Hmmm -- we're low on essentials again, but we have a smattering of deli-style turkey. I'll make him a sandwich and fill out the lunch by stopping at a store en route to school....
7:20 -- Well, we don't have cereal, eggs, or breakfast meat. I'll make the kids some cinnamon toast and pick up something else while getting the peripherals for William's lunch....
7:30 -- We're at the local Jackson's to pick up chips and some toxic soft drink for William. I pick up a couple of breakfast sandwiches for the four school-bound Grigglings (William, Isaiah, Jefferson, and Katrina). I'm also mentally composing the blog essay I'll publish later today on Pro Libertate....
8:10 -- With the kids now in the temporary care of the local mind-laundry (oh, how I earnestly wish we could still home-school them), I sit down for some breakfast while reading the Idaho Statesman. Like practically every news-sheet in that dying industry, the Statesman has become downright anorexic. I'm confident that newspapers could survive if they would actually commit acts of local journalism, rather than acting as retail outlets for national news services and press agencies for local politicians.
The fair Korrin, in avatar form.There's nothing in the employment section of the classifieds, natch. I notice that Ted Haggard is making a comeback in Colorado....
8:30 -- Once again at my station in front of the computer I reply to some important correspondence and take a moment or two to browse the headlines. I print out a few research items for today's Pro Libertate essay. I take just a second to visit the website of my erstwhile employer to check for reaction to a comment I had posted in response to a news item. Ah, yes -- nothing but negative reactions, but no rebuttal....
9:00 -- I get a phone call from the district health office reminding me that Korrin has an appointment for an injection. As I hang up, Sophia makes her first appearance, and she needs a bath. We repair upstairs to the distaff wash room and Sophia enjoys a brief bubble-bath. Well, "enjoys" is a bit of an over-statement: She still caterwauls every time I anoint her head with baby shampoo, purely out of reflex....
9:20 -- Time to make breakfast for Sophia and Korrin (the latter of whom is still in bed, through absolutely no fault of her own). We have some macadamia nut pancake batter. I add a touch of butter and cinnamon and -- voila! -- we have a passable imitation of a gourmet-caliber breakfast item. Well, Sophia seems to think so, anyhow.
Korrin and Justus are awake. Justus is cheerful but not particularly eager to eat. Korrin is severely symptomatic; I can tell from her unfocused gaze, the visible trembling of her hands as she feeds Justus, and the tell-tale slurring of her speech.
9:45 -- I'll get to the dishes later. I need to spend some time in actual writing. Somehow I manage to grind out a few hundred words, while searching for the appropriate photos to illustrate my outrage (the essay deals with a long train of criminal abuses committed by police in Portland, Oregon, and the police union's unconditional demand for impunity). What's amazing to me is how quickly time is devoured when I'm actually putting fingers to the keyboard in productive effort.
The Trickster: Inspired by the mischievous Loki, Bugs Bunny is William Wallace's cyber-doppleganger. Sometime in the late morning I receive a phone call from the district health office suggesting that we re-schedule Korrin's injection for Thursday, when she has a scheduled checkup with Dr. Banta. That will work out just fine -- at least, I hope so....
12:15 PM -- Lunch time has stealthily overtaken me. We don't have the makings of a major meal in the fridge, and I've got no time to shop or cook. We have the increasingly forlorn remains of a tossed salad. To supplement the salad I make some soup and cook some garlic bread. Sophia is delighted.
I force myself to do a couple of sets of pushups before lunch. I do 60 reps in the first set. That's encouraging, sort of: After my recent hospitalization I couldn't do five without collapsing. Ah, but I used to do sets of 100 or more. In fact, as recently as a couple of years ago I used to start my day with two sets of 100 -- one done Hindu-style, the other in standard style. Ah, time, the subtle thief of youth....
12:45 -- Korrin and Justus take a moment to eat. Korrin is very symptomatic; in fact, she's downright suicidal. I leave Justus on the floor while I gather the dishes and clean the kitchen counters and try to get Korrin to focus on something -- anything -- that will distract her from the demonic delusions created by her "command voice." She seems to stabilize enough for me to finish my work for the afternoon....
1:15 -- With a little good fortune and a strong wind at my back, I should be able to finish the essay this afternoon.
There goes that pestilential telephone again. Oh, hey -- it's Scott Horton, who wants to know what I think of the idea of moving his indispensable Antiwar Radio program to the Liberty News Radio Network. Ernest Hancock seems to think it's a great idea; Scott's a little worried about some of the other personalities.
I give him my standard assessment: I think LNR is a great enterprise, despite some severe disagreements with at least a couple of the hosts. I'm not of the opinion that I'm tainted by being part of the same network with someone whose views I don't share. It could be worse, after all; I could be sharing a syndicator with Sean Hannity or someone of that wretched ilk....
Cute, but nobody's fool: Isaiah's cartoon stand-in, Tweety. 2:10 -- Ah, nuts: I'm almost finished, and probably will be this close (holding my fingers a centimeter apart) when I have to go pick up Jefferson and Katrina from school....
2:30 -- Yep, I'm just about finished, but I'll have to wrap things up when I get home....
3:10 -- We're back, and I'm about ready to put the essay to bed. This one is particularly infuriating: It describes the death, by police beating, of a hapless 145 lb. guy who suffered from schizophrenia, and another incident in which riot-thugs from the same police force pepper-sprayed an innocent family -- taking special care to douse an 11-month-old baby -- during a peaceful protest.
Don't make him muss ya up: Jefferson Leonidas Grigg, as played by Henery Hawk. My wife suffers from Schizophrenia, and we have an 11-month-old son. I'm slightly nauseated as I imagine what I would do to a tax-feeder who mistreated either of them in any way....
4:00 -- The blog is posted and linked on Facebook. Hey -- we got a check in the mail! I'll have to run to the bank. Korrin is stable enough now for me to risk leaving for a few minutes. There's a craft-centered Christmas party at the church tonight; I hope she'll go....
4:45 -- Maybe I'll have time to catch a nap. Ha. Ha. Ha. Wow, I haven't laughed that hard all day.
Korrin just called her friend Wanda to beg off of going to the Christmas party. I suggest that she should go; she'll be able to eat there, and I'll take care of the kids. She needs to be among friends, and to get out of the house for a while. To my relief, she agrees.
I'm able to read a little bit in the Martin Luther biography I checked out a few days ago while the boys take temporary control of the computer....
5:35 -- I banish the boys from my office and start my show prep. William insists that I just have to see some hilarious YouTube video. At the risk of offending my firstborn, I decline....
Beautiful Boo: Pixar must have had my Katrina in mind when they created this computer-generated cutie. 6:05 -- The Pro Libertate Radio Show begins on an odd note when I find myself going off on a lengthy digression about the evils of multi-level marketing. Well, this wasn't entirely off-topic. I wonder how this will go over with the sponsors.
For the next fifty minutes I talk about the CIA, the Federal Reserve, Blackwater, the "prosperity gospel," the authoritarian wing of the Christian Right (if I'm part of the Christian Right, I belong among its small but growing individualist contingent), Get Smart, nuclear energy, the NFL and NBA, eminent domain, and the congealed idiocy that is the editorial board of National Review.
During commercial breaks I amuse myself by doing small sets of pushups -- 20-30 reps a set, trying to avoid exertion of sufficient magnitude to make me sound on-air as if I were carrying out an obscene phone call. Yesterday I spent the breaks getting my John Petrucci freak on, playing pointless shredding runs on my guitar.
Hey, this sort of thing just begs for the "Ditto-cam" treatment. I wonder if there would be any money in this...?
7:10 -- Justus is asleep, so we can't go out to a burger joint, as I had planned. I give William the Con as Daddy ex officio and leave the homestead in search of Chinese take-out....
Baby Lamb: Sophia as rendered in needle-point. 8:00 -- Everyone else is eating. I'm tending Justus, who -- with the mischievous timing all infants display -- woke up just as I was headed home. He was crying hysterically when I arrived. I settle him down by crooning a tranquil version of "Whiskey in the Jar."
About fifteen minutes into dinner I'm finally rewarded with a taste of the delightful comestibles provided by "Jimbo's" restaurant in downtown Payette. Just a taste, mind you: I still have to tend to Justus.
9:00 -- The Kidz are planted in front of the tube watching "Night At the Museum II." Seized by a sudden inspiration, I decide to record today's events for cyber-posterity.
Korrin comes home at about 9:30, and -- God be praised -- she is visibly better for the time spent with friends at the church party. Jefferson is clamoring for my attention, holding in his hands what appears to be a reproduction of Luther's 95 theses. No, wait -- that's his Christmas wish list....
Newborn Baby Justus: Why try to paint the lily? He's already so cute that no cartoon can do him, ah, Justice.
Cartoon Bonus
Nasty Canasta's film debut, "Drip-Along Daffy"
