I Am Not a Nerd

As a result of a few conversations I had with family and friends this weekend, I've realized that there's a gross misconception out there that I'm a nerd.

Imagine my shock as that revelation slowly took hold. People think I'm a nerd? Me? A nerd? Me? ME???!?!?

I will admit that when I was much, much younger - like in early- to mid-childhood - somebody who knew me only casually might have reached the conclusion that in some small ways, my appearance and behaviour was somewhat nerd-like. Blame my mom for dressing me in polyester pants, and my sisters for being so numerous and stifling, and my dad for wearing horn-rimmed glasses and an abacus in his white shirt pocket (and for teaching me backgammon and ping pong instead of fishing and hunting). But appearances can deceive, and I think the fact that I was a kick-ass jacks player and hopscotch king should be taken into consideration before passing judgement.

(In the absence of a real picture from my childhood, I include below a representative likeness as an illustration of what I kind of, sort of, might have looked like back then).

Anyhow, that was then and this is now. I am decidedly not a nerd and I can prove it:

• Yes, I'm a math grad from Waterloo, but I only took the cool math courses AND I also took non-math electives like Forms of Fantasy, Arthurian Literature, and Future Studies
• Alright, I used to play Dungeons and Dragons...but my character was always a thief - the least nerdy character you can choose
• Sure, two of my favourite novel genres are Science Fiction and Fantasy, but I also read a lot of Historical Fiction. (I should mention that my recent foray into Scott Sigler's Galactic Football League series further illustrates how completely cool I am)
• I run - and not just from bullies
• Given that nerd-ism is an inherited trait, if I were a nerd, you'd expect my daughters to also be nerds, and they're not (I know this because we talked about it over a recent game of Settlers of Catan and they told me they're not)
• Despite having read all of the Game of Thrones books (so far) and watched both seasons, I don't own any paraphernalia (unless you count my "Winter is Coming" Stark mug at the office)
• While I watch Walking Dead religiously, I have never once watched Talking Dead or Comic Book Men (they're on after my bed time)
• And if all of that's not enough, consider this: Nerds constantly make stupid puns and have a really nerdy laugh. My laugh isn't nerdy at all.

QED

A Letter from the Dentist Triggers Pointless Meandering

My 3-year old received the following letter in the mail yesterday:

Dear Micaela,

 

This is a friendly reminder that you are overdue for your recall appointment. We value you as a patient and would like to encourage you to keep up with regular check-ups. We feel we can help you attain optimum dental health, which will allow you to require less overall treatment. We believe you are an asset to our practice and look forward to seeing you again.

 

After Micaela read the letter, she got quite upset.

 

"Dad," she said, "how did we let so much time pass since my last visit to the dental practice? I remember that we agreed to keep up on both the frequency and regularity of my appointments. Now there's a good chance that my dental health is sub-optimal and my treatment regimen is going to become quite onerous. What's worse, I feel like I've let everyone down. They value me, they believe I'm an asset, and now look how we've betrayed their team."

 

I love our dentist and his entire team. I recognize that I'm being completely unfair in singling them out for the very common crime of trying to communicate in a personalized way, while in fact doing the exact opposite. (I've heard some great stories about what can go wrong, my absolute favourite of which was from a work colleague who made some sort of complaint to a hotel manager and received a 'personalized' letter in response which had been photocopied with an attached post-it note saying "Send him the cockroach letter.")

 

But I'll use this letter to illustrate a few points:

 

Point 1: (The obvious one) If you are trying to send out a mass communication with a personal touch, try really, really hard to get it right, or don't bother at all. If your patients are valued, if they are an "asset to your practice", communicate with them in a genuine way. If you're just sending out an automated reminder, make it an automated reminder:

 

Dear Patient,

This automatic reminder has been sent because you are past due for you next appointment. Please call us.

 

Point 2: Don't pull out the big words when you're trying to send a simple message. Without being blatantly impersonal as in Point 1, this letter could have said:

 

Dear Micaela,

Where are you? It's time for your next appointment. In fact, you're a little late. Please call to set something up.

 

Point 3: When people get older, they like to get irate about really unimportant stuff. It makes them feel good to shake their cane at the world and say "In my day, ..." I feel like it's time I join their ranks:

 

In my day, this letter would have been delivered by a postman (yes, a post"man") dragging himself up to our front stoop with small dogs gnawing on each of his legs and a big friendly smile on his face, saying "Mornin' Hank - here's the post". (In my day, men called each other Hank).

 

Letter in hand, I would have summoned the whole family to the sitting room to open the letter together. Having heard their father's summons, all 3 of the girls would have come running in from the field - where they were busy doing their morning chores - kissed my cheek and sat dutifully, faces alight with anticipation at what the letter might say. They most certainly wouldn't be away at University getting an edu-m'cation.

 

In fact, instead of just the 3 of them, there would have been a whole brood gathered around - 14 kids in all - as we read the letter. And it would have said something like:

 

Dear Henrietta, (because that's what we called girls back then)

Now that you are 3 years old, we wanted you to know that one day soon it will be time for you to start coming to the dentist. For now, you can eat all the sweets you want because your teeth are going to fall out anyways.

 

 

 

 

Assorted Things - from Asparagus to 'Z'

Ah, what to make sense of today?

How about a few assorted things that have crossed my mind over the last couple of weeks? (And yes, I realize it's been that long since my last post.)

On life in general...

• Asparagus - I just think it's the coolest vegetable for all sorts of reasons. A great conversation starter, especially with people who haven't tried it before. If you're looking for a green to start kids on, what other vegetable can offer such a cool result? (If you don't know what I'm talking about, too bad - I refuse to get more explicit). First runner-up is beets.
• The magical combination of British television, an iPad, Netflix, and a Treadmill - never before has cardio been so easy and so pleasant. I'm working(-out) my way through Misfits now.
• The word "misnomer" - I'm hearing more and more people using this wrong (I think they think it means "misconception"). Given what it actually does mean, it's almost ironic that people use it wrong. As an aside, I learned this week that "sleep clinic" is a misnomer.
• Thank-you cards - In my mind, my nephew/newest niece have set a new standard for thank-you cards. We received it in the mail (the real mail), it was personal, the words of thanks were specific and filled the card, it made me laugh, it made me cry - but most importantlly it made me feel genuinely thanked. Good job. 
• US Elections - who won? Or is this one of those situations where they all won because they got to participate?
• Zed - I believe that in Canada, we call the last letter in the alphabet "Zed" (at least nobody's told me otherwise yet). I know that "Zed" doesn't rhyme with G, P or V so it kind of messes up the whole alphabet verse thing that they teach in school. But still, my 3-year old shouldn't be telling me I'm wrong when I correct her. Let's consider changing the pronunciation for G, P and V to "Ged", "Ped" and "Ved" respectively and then the problem simply goes away. At least that's my POV. 

On the Toronto sports scene...

• The Toronto Blue Jays - no matter what happens as a result of AA's big moves, it's nice to have some north-of-the-border swagger in the AL East again.
• The Toronto Argonauts - since I didn't care beforehand, it would be wrong to claim the Grey Cup as any kind of victory for me personally. But yay.
• NHL lock-out: Everyone seems to be skating around the real issues. What's the ultimate goal here? How many shots at a settlement do they get? At this point, both parties seem off-side. They should just put everything else on ice, and get a deal done...even if it means working overtime. Um, Zamboni.
• The Toronto Raptors - my fearless prediction from an earlier post still stands: They are not bound for great things this year. The rest of what I said in that post was nonsense.

How I Met Your Mother

(Before I get on with my post, one of you lucky readers today will be my blog's 1000th page view. Congratulations. The prize is a coupon for deep-fried butter at next year's CNE. Congratulations!)

Gather around kids and I'll tell you the story of how I met your mother 28 years ago today.

It was November 16, 1984. John Lennon was about to release "Every Man has a Woman Who Loves Him". The 14th Shuttle Mission Discovery 2 was scheduled to land at Kennedy Center. America was mourning the death of trombonist Vic Dickenson. And the landmark films Night of the Comet, Missing in Action, and Nightmare on Elm Street were freshly arriving in theatres.
But the story actually begins a few weeks before with one of my university roommates (you know who you are) telling me about a girl - roommate of his friend - who needed some math help. I said she should call me and I would give her some tutoring. She finally got around to making that call on Thursday November 15th.

A short phone call to set up a tutoring session became a long conversation as I condensed all of my charm and wit into a tiny little ball and squeezed it through the telephone wire (that's right, telephones had wires back then). I liked this girl; mostly because she laughed at everything I said. You see, kids, lasting relationships don't have to start with physical attraction. A voice, a laugh, an ego stroke now and then, and a prolonged dating slump can set the wheels in motion long before you've seen what someone looks like. I know, Daddy's deep.

We ended the call with an appointment to meet tomorrow (Friday the 16th) at the math library after classes. In one last flurry of whimsy, I sealed the date with "I'll be wearing a pink carnation." Ha ha.

That day I could barely concentrate in my classes - my mind wandering to my imminent mystery date / tutoring session; my heart palpitating with anticipation - but I somehow made it through. When classes were finally over, I rushed to the elevators and made my way to the library. The doors opened. And no one was there... (Or maybe I got there after she was already there. Who remembers? It was 28 years ago.)

I scanned the scene outside the library. Who was this algebraic femme fatale? Meanwhile, she would later tell me, she too scanned the scene looking for someone - anyone - with a pink carnation. 

Our eyes finally met. We introduced ourselves. And then we crossed the threshold of the library, books in hand, hearts in throats, ready to talk...math. I remember soft lighting, ambient music, wisps of smoke, and nuanced math exchanges about multiplication, integration, shapes and forms. She remembers me not being very helpful. But she also remembers knowing - KNOWING! - that I was the one she was going to marry.

When it was over, I walked her home, said goodnight, and made my way back to the school to get my bike. We had one more tutoring session before we started calling them dates. And the rest, my sweet daughters, is history.

David Feels a Little Mall-ancholy

I like going to the mall. I like shopping. When I was young, I used to like shopping with my mom and sisters. Now, when I'm less young, I like shopping with my wife and my daughters. I like helping them with their shopping, and I like shopping for myself.

I always thought my dad was weird because he never liked going to the mall as much as I did. Then, when I got older, I thought my male friends were weird because they hated the mall. Then my male work colleagues were that way too. And my brother-in-laws. And then one day when I was at the mall I took a look around and - lo and behold - most of the men who were there didn't seem to be happy about it.

And that's when I realized that the vast majority of men are weird and don't like the mall. Huh.

If I hadn't logged the hours and hours of mall time with my mom, sisters, wife and daughters, I'd have missed so much great stuff. Oh sure, we'd still have the times we spent shooting hoops on the driveway, or passing the day on the dock waiting for the fish to start biting, or the early morning hockey games warming our hands around a cup of Tim's, ... but what of the mall times?

Some of my favourite scenes from the mall:

• Walking across what's now the DVP, and what was then a muddy field, to get to the brand new Fairview Mall - where a mountain covered in diamonds awaited. My mom eagerly buying us a glass of coke as a special treat on every trip.
• And, those times when my Dad was along for the ride, leading us through ridiculous games that made shopping even more fun (like "pricetag bingo").
• My wife spontaneously breaking into hormone-induced tears when she was 9-months pregnant with our first and found out that the sale on the very important baby item we were trying to buy didn't start until (what was then) tomorrow.
• The many, many hours we spent shopping for the girls' clothes, accessories, toys, school supplies, ... and talking about why each item was important to them and how they'd use it. Then patiently waiting while they tried things on and waited for Dad's judgement on how it looked.
• Sitting in a mall restaurant after an afternoon of shopping and telling my two older daughters that we were expecting a third. And the unabashed joy of the moments that followed.
• And the one constant from every mall and every time...the wishing fountain. My Mom reaching into her change purse to give us pennies so we could make our wishes. My older daughters as little girls using my hard-earned change to make their wishes. And this Saturday at the mall, my 3-year-old making her wishes too. (With one of her sisters home for the weekend and at the mall with us, her first wish was that the other sister could be here with her as well.)

I know I'm supposed to hate shopping and - in particular - hate the mall. I don't. It's been my personal experience that being a patient and attentive mall companion has been a big asset in my life-long pursuit of good brother / son / boyfriend / husband / father status. I might as well enjoy the enormous chunks of time I spend there. Right?

Don't Become Emotionally Attached to a Balloon (and other mistakes wecan all learn from)

We all make mistakes: We do or say things that hurt others; we mess something up at work; we slice a finger when we're supposed to be slicing bread; we throw to the wrong base with the game tied in the bottom of the ninth; we buy the wrong kind of milk.

If we're smart, we learn from our mistakes and the mistakes of others and become a little better at navigating our day-to-day as a result. (In fact, I'd say that it's a big mistake not to learn from your mistakes and you shouldn't do that more than once.)

In the spirit of giving back, here are some mistakes that you now never have to make:

• Never buy a bathroom scale as a gift for someone you love. Even if they asked for one.
• Never attend a time-share presentation because of a promised free gift. I don't care what the free gift is, it's not better than the gift of not having ever attended a time-share presentation.
• <This item was removed because it would have been a mistake to include it>
• Don't ever run down a staircase with a low ceiling. And if you're the spouse of someone who is splayed out on the floor after having run down a staircase with a low ceiling, ask them if they need medical attention before you start laughing hysterically.
• Don't ever tell someone that you really, really liked something they cooked for you if you didn't.
• Don't become emotionally attached to a balloon.
• If you have a mother who worries about things, it's not funny to lie down on the icy sidewalk at the bottom of the front-door p and writhe in feigned agony.
• Don't wash giant centipedes down your shower drain. And if you don't want your wife to know that there are spiders in the basement that you're not killing, don't talk about it on Facebook.
• Sometimes the best answer is to pretend you didn't hear the question (like when someone asks you if a dress makes them look heavier, or if Simba's daddy is dead).
• Always re-read your e-mails and blog posts before you send/publish them (see item 3).

I hope these help you. I'd be interested in your list, but I know that nobody ever responds to my posts so I expect nothing. Sniff.

Halloween 2012 - David Loses His Mind Once Again

As some of you know, every Halloween we go a little bit over the top in our decorations. It has become a (now 10 year) tradition to create a Halloween scene in our garage. It takes a bit of work but is always worth it when we hear kids saying things like "Oh! It's THIS house - it's always the best house". Or their parents saying things like "We had to come all the way over here because we never want to miss your house".

This year, after going down the path of doing a cave scene (I was literally in Home Depot a few weeks ago with a cart full of lumber, foam insulation, and insect screen when I stopped and asked myself what the hell I was doing) we ended up with a monster Day Care. Here are the pictures.... (imagine you're here at night, with special-effect lighting, sounds of moans and evil cackles, and eerie music.)

 

Welcome to Devil Day Care...

    

...where you'll find our kids learning their letters...



...taking a stroll...

  



...having a snack...





...or just sitting around.

 

We provide a warm and welcoming environment...





  



   

...with pets...



....and other playthings.

 

 



You'll find our staff is attentive andloving...



...and even our retired staff continue to hang around to spend time with the kids.



Yes, your child belongs with Devil Day Care (but please, no cute bunny suits).