Why Piracy?

This is a true story.

Over the weekend, I celebrated early Christmas with my wife.

Because she's awesome, and because she listens to the things I say, she got me a Kindle Touch.

"Yaaaaaay!" I said, flailing my arms happily.

The next day, started in on the nasty business of "setting up my Kindle." I configured my wireless connection, synched up my account, and prepared to make with the digital downloading.

I decided to buy a Kurt Vonnegut novel -- he's my favorite author, and I've read quite a few of his novels, but there's still a lot of quality "lesser works" that I've either never read, or started and stalled halfway through.

"Bluebeard!" my Kindle screamed at me.

"Okay!" I screamed back.

"Awesome!" shrieked my Kindle. "That'll be $11.00, please!!! LOL!!!!!"

"Oh," I balked.

I looked at the listing for the paperback version. I could get a used copy for $6.49 (after shipping). Heck, I could get a new copy for $10.20 (with free shipping). I thought this whole "digital distribution" thing was supposed to be cheaper. Wha...?

And I quickly realized, you know what? I could find this in PDF format for free. If I wanted, I could actually find the complete works of Vonnegut in every digital format available from one download link (I did so just now, using a simple Google search that took less than a minute).

I mean, how cool would that be -- I could just fire up a complete library of books on my Kindle the first day...and leisurely make my way through the works of one of the greatest authors of our generation, if I so desired.

So, not only would that save me $11.00...it could potentially save me over a hundred dollars, and it would cost me nothing. Besides, I've already purchased several of his books in paper copy -- what would be the harm in simply transferring them over to digital copies?

And Mr. Vonnegut is dead anyway (So it goes). The only people profiting from this would be the goddamn publisher.

I was tempted. Very, very tempted. I could load up my new sweet new gift with books that, to be honest, I probably would never have bought anyway (I'm never going to purchase Galapagos, Timequake, or Hocus Pocus, so it's not like the publisher would be losing any real money). And hell, I paid for the Kindle, and I already buy tons of stuff on Amazon...is me pirating one little book going to make an impact at all with that enormous company?

And what the hell? $11.00? Who charges that much? It doesn't cost $11.00 to make one little frigging e-book. I was being fleeced. Some asshole publisher with and OCR scanner is making a butt-load of money, and little-to-no expense.

Screw those guys. They doesn't deserve my money.

This is the mindset of our generation. And thus, the true danger of piracy.

I did buy the e-book...not just because if I didn't I'd come off as a huge stupid hypocrite if I pirated that stuff after my recent pro-SOPA ravings, but also because I'm really trying to break myself of that "piracy is okay in small doses" mindset...which, even after three years working in anti-piracy, I still find myself fighting. Even sitting here now, typing this, I'm thinking, "Aw, who's gonna' know about those books? Or even care?"

I don't know. Certainly not one of the commenter in my last post, who branded me an "industry shill," "dinosaur," and an out of touch liar who has "no idea of how things work."

I mean, I know the guy who wrote that...and he's a complete asshole, so I'm not really bothered by any of his accusations. But there are others out there who might think that, because I'm so close to this stuff, and because I get a paycheck from enforcing this stuff, that I'm not the most reliable, unbiased source.

I disagree.

First off, SOPA might just put me out of a job. I'm a very busy man at work, but that's only because the company I work for goes out of its way to abide by the DMCA and US copyright law (more than most companies do, in my opinion). If SOPA were to be passed, it's very possible that my job would either change dramatically, or go away altogether.

Secondly, I would argue that I'm much more in touch with the realities and dangers of piracy than the average person. I've seen the numbers (and generated my own). I've done the research. I've looked at the "confidential" numbers reports. I've seen the breadth, depths, and realities of the problem first-hand. Like I say, this is what I do for a living. I ought to be allowed to express an informed opinion without being accused of bias.

Finally, although I'm a fan of the company I work for, I'm fully capable of my own free thought, and in the past I have been critical of facets of not just my own company, but of the industry as a whole. And like I said, no one in my office has even expressed an opinion about this law one way or the other, and I believe some of them might actually even be opposed to it.

I am neither industry shill, nor uniformed liar.

So what I want to do (after that super-long preamble) is talk a bit about "why" otherwise law-abiding folks pirate intellectual property. Or, rather, my three theories as to why they do so.

1) Convenience. Seems like a no-brainer, but, for those of us born before 1990, think about what "watching a TV show" used to entail. You'd have to learn about the show (talking to friends or reading about it in the newspaper), find out what time the show starts (by checking the TV Guide), then you'd have to stay at home and watch the show in its entirety, commercials and all. Now, with DVR and Video-on-Demand, you can skip commercials, and you've achieved what was once only a dream: full control the when and the where you view content.

But with piracy, you can now add what to that list. Studios are interested in limiting availability, because it means the consumer will want to pay a fee to increase their content choices.

For the consumer, circumventing this inconvenience is the most obvious excuse for accessing pirated content.

For instance, you hear that Boardwalk Empire is a show worth watching. It sounds like a pretty cool show (and it is), but HBO is expensive. You could wait until it comes out on NetFlix, or until the DVDs come out, but that takes forever.

Well, what if I told you about a site that has every single episode of Boardwalk Empire available, right now, for free? Pretty sweet deal, yeah? It's not like you want to pay for all the other shows on HBO or anything, and you're bored tonight...so...why not? Maybe just a couple of episodes...to see what all the fuss is about.

Seems like a pretty obvious, yet seemingly harmless decision.

Or maybe you finally grew a goddamn brain, and started watching the best show on television: Community. You go to NBC.com, and holy crap! Full episodes! High def! Free!!! You realize that you want to watch the full series!

Wait, where the hell is season 2!?

Nope. Not on NBC.com. Only the 5 most recent episodes are on NBC. Hulu? Nope. Have to subscribe to Hulu Plus ($7.99 a month) to watch season 2, and you already subscribe to NetFlix and Time Warner Cable. NetFlix doesn't have it available for streaming, so you'd have to rent the DVDs...but you're not signed up for Qwikster (lol), and the second season DVDs cost over $20.

Once again...hold the phone. Turns out you can see every episode for free online! No subscriptions, advertisements, or anything. Sweet!

Besides, if you do download it, it's probably good for NBC in the long run, because they have a new fan (you already subscribe to cable, and you have NetFlix) and you'll definitely start watching the future episodes...once you're fully caught up with the adventure of those kooky kids from Greendale Community College.

Again, it's that convenience factor, coupled with this notion that people are somehow gifted with the "inexorable right" to consume any entertainment content they desire...and that to withhold (or make them work for) that entertainment is just "corporate bullshit."

It's a culture of entitlement...and it's empowering piracy.

2) Access. Imagine this nightmare scenario. You're a Browns fan (yes, that alone is a nightmare), but you moved to Minneapolis to pursue your dream of becoming the next Gregg Steinhaffel (as if there could be another Gregg Steinhaffel).

Sunday rolls around, and you're totally geeked about the prospects of watching the high-powered, Colt McCoy-led offense catapult the Browns to a Super Bowl. Problem. The Browns will never, ever, ever be shown on national TV, and for some reason, the people in Minneapolis would rather watch the Vikings.

So you go to a sports bar to watch the game. It's pretty cool...but you end up plunking down $30 a week in beer and cheeseburgers. After 16 games of mediocrity, that'd cost you $480 damn dollars.

You could sign up for NFL Ticket, but you don't have DirecTV, and that anyway, the additional service costs $100 a year (which would save money in the long run, but it's still too damn expensive). You used to be able to get these games for free back in Cleveland...but now it's just a huge pain in the ass.

Hold the phone (no, seriously, hold the goddamn phone), you mean there's a website that offers all of these games for free? And I can watch it on my couch, in my boxers, eating a $1 Hot Pocket!? Hot damn! What a bargain!

How on earth could you say "no" to that? Why on earth would you say "no" to that?

No matter what a company does, or how easy and cheap it offers its services, it will never be able to compete with free. This is great for the consumer, because piracy is driving down costs from legitimate streaming services.

But it's very bad for the content producers and distributors, who must now (in order to compete) find a way to distribute content for "next to nothing." This includes forcing viewers to watch advertisements intermittently (the "free" Hulu model), or charging a small subscription fee (the "Hulu Plus" model). It's not sustainable, since those fees will never ever cover production costs (which is why Hulu does not actually create content), so the studio will end up losing in the long run.

This is why studios need to limit content availability. There needs to be a reason for consumers to plunk down that extra $8.00 a month. If the content providers lose control of that, why would a consumer ever sign up for a $99 NFL ticket? Or go to a sports bar for $30 a week?

Once again, piracy wins, because it's not playing fair.

3) Because...fuck you! This is the most insidious. These are the people with a chip on their shoulder about the profits that the various studios, record labels, and distributors are pulling in. They are anti-corporation, and think that studios create easy-to-digest bullshit for the consumer to turn a quick buck.

To them, movie studios are gluttonous assholes ripping off the American consumer with terrible content. Film a Smurf's movie?! Great! It made $142 million in box office receipts! VICTORY! How about the Chipmunks movie? $217 million! Awesome! People love this shit, and it costs us next-to-nothing to produce! Transformers: Dark of the Moon? $352 million!!! Wait, what's this? The Descendants? Only $28 million?! Who is responsible for this bullshit?! You're fired!!! Goddamn, we hate our customers, but we'll keep shoveling out the shitty content and they'll keep lapping it us as our wallets get fatter and fatter!

So why should those assholes be getting any of my money? Screw them. I'll hop on a torrent and just grab every movie I ever wanted (including first-run theatrical releases) for free. I don't need a TV or cable box, I can just stream everything online. I'm not going to feed the corporate machine to churn out shittier and shittier content. Those guys can suck it (and by "it," I mean "my wiener").

Ah...that felt good.

Thing is, these people are not totally wrong. The MPAA posted record profits last year, mostly based off of terrible, terrible, terrible remakes and sequels. Good shows (like Community) get shitty ratings, while shitty shows (like Two-and-a-half Men) are just killing. Everywhere we look, corporations and are getting richer and richer, while content is getting dumber and dumber.

But...

If you really believe this, what are you watching? Obviously if you're a discerning viewer, you're staying away from dreck like Wipeout or X-Factor. But you're still downloading stuff, right? Who do you think makes that shit you're downloading for free?

Yep. Studios. Record companies. Artists. The assholes you're railing against. The ones with the talent and the money that you lack.

So how can you simultaneously be a fan of something, while hating the people who created it?

The hell is wrong with you?

Face it...you're just a greedy asshole, cloaking your theft in the guise of this "stick it to the man" bullshit.

I have no patience for people like you...who are just so cynical and hypocritical that they see nothing wrong with what they're doing, and feel no obligation to pay for any entertainment they digest.

I hope there are not many people out there like this...because if so, anyone hoping to make a buck off of a creative endeavor is screwed.

But I know they're out there...and I'm pretty sure that "industry shill" guy is one of them.


In Conclusion

Sorry, I couldn't figure out a way to transition out of that list format that I had set up, so I went all "10th grade history essay" on your ass.

Basically, I get it. There's a lot more going on with people turning to piracy other than the fact that "it's free." It's also a question of quantity. Content producers want to restrict access, while pirates want capitalize on that. Who could blame someone for watching pirated movies...something that they don't really consider to be harmful in small doses?

But it's our culture of entitlement that makes us think that way. It's hard to break free, but we must...because more and more people are going to realize just how much free content is available out there...and how easy it is to get. And it will start to have a financial impact.

Maybe it hasn't happened yet...but it will. Remember when no one had heard of Skype? Now, it's the only way to communicate long distance with someone. As piracy grows and overwhelms the companies trying to contain it, there will be a cost.

I believe that we need to address it, and that it should not be tolerated.

In Defense of SOPA

Look, I get it. I understand why people are scared.

They've got a good thing going now -- the internet is completely open, and it's this great place to exchange ideas, shop, connect with people, and find information about practically anything that has ever existed.

It's good. I agree...and I use it constantly. The last thing we want is to have the government come in, screw it up, fill it with shitty advertisements, block content, and make it into some tame, corporate, soulless hellscape.

So, I get it. No one wants to see the internet ruined.

Many people believe that SOPA (the Stop Online Piracy Act) will break the internet. Consequently, no one likes SOPA.

Like, no one.

I Googled the term "SOPA defense," and I got almost an entire page full of anti-SOPA articles, with one actual defense of the bill (written for the National Review by the guy who wrote SOPA, Republican Texas Congressman Lamar Smith) titled "Defending SOPA." This is the same guy who supported the totally retarded Abortion Pain Bill (where women seeking abortions were required to be "fully informed regarding the pain experienced by their unborn child"). He's basically a boring poster boy for every irritating Republican position out there.

Naturally, he does a shitty job defending SOPA, being out of touch with the realities of online piracy and completely missing the point of his own stupid bill (which he probably had quite of bit of help writing). techdirt.com jumped all over it, with an equally misinformed attack of the defense.

Lamar, if you're reading this, just shut up. You're not helping, and I don't like you.

The question is, who's going to stand up and defend this massively unpopular bill? Who has two thumbs, and the balls to say, "Hey, you know what? This isn't such a bad idea."

This guy:


Sweet Christ I'm handsome.

Full disclosure: I work in anti-piracy enforcement. My employer has never voiced an opinion, positive or negative, on this bill. No one in my office has spoken about it, and in fact, when I mentioned it to a coworker, he'd never heard of it before.

These words are my own.

Even fuller disclosure: I'm an actor, writer, and producer. I've also participated in illegal downloading -- my Napster and Kazaa download lists were quite impressive at one time.

So I get it. I understand why people download stuff online. And if you choose to watch movies on pirate websites, or download torrents...it's fine. I don't blame you, and I'm not silently judging you. I mean, I'd encourage you to pay for entertainment in some way (if you don't already), but I promise that your actions (illegal or otherwise) are of no interest to me.

But here's what I think: internet piracy is screwing us. It's hampering creativity, holding back innovation, and making it damn hard for a person to make a living as a creative professional.

Because, and here's the point I have not been seeing out there, internet piracy is an industry. It's not a 17 year old in his basement uploading videos out of the kindness of his own heart. It's professionals earning money by sharing files...and most have been getting away with it for years. Yep, these shitheads, risking next-to-nothing, are making a fairly comfortable living (you can easily make about $3,000 a month, more if you're an actual site operator) without investing a single creative brain cell in the process.

Having said that, we need to establish some ground rules here. Things that I think we need to agree on:

1. Internet piracy sucks, it's harmful, and it's wrong
2. Nearly everyone does it, but most people feel bad about it when they do
   
3. If we do nothing, it's only going to get worse
4. Current enforcement efforts are ineffective, and have been stymied by the out-of-date DMCA
5. The only people who should be making money off of a creative endeavor should be the people responsible for that creative endeavor
6. No one has "the right" to view any entertainment content. If you cannot afford cable TV or DVDs, then you are not somehow endowed with the inalienable right to consume that content without going through the process of obtaining a legal copy to watch
   

Can we agree on those things? I mean, I know people who are against SOPA aren't necessarily pro-piracy...they're just anti-censorship...and I think most of us can agree to the above.

Now, I can concede that the SOPA has some vague language that has the potential to be misconstrued. Not to the extent that the fearmongerers will have you believe, but yes...certain sections are problematic. The ACLU agrees, calling it a "Good Idea - Poor Follow-Through."

But this is why bills go through an amendment process. What you've read is not the finished product. If bills were automatically passed into law after being introduced, then we'd all have a public option for health care right now. In fact, the most egregious issues have already been fixed in the latest version of the bill.

The chatter around the interwebs is that this bill will give anyone the ability to contact an ISP, tell that ISP that a site has "infringing content," and that ISP will be forced (by law) to flick a switch and immediately block access to the site in question, with little to no oversight.

The ACLU article above describes this nightmare scenario: "Katy Perry could decide that the awesome video you just posted on YouTube rocking out and lip-synching to her latest hit was, in fact, copyright infringement. All Ms. Perry would have to do is notify YouTube’s ISP of the supposed copyright infringement, and YouTube’s entire site could effectively disappear from the Web, perhaps even before YouTube was notified and despite the fact all other content on the site was non-infringing."

Forgive my language, but that's fucking retarded. And wrong. And it ignores something which the SOPA can never change -- that silly thing called "due process." It's in that constitution somewhere...not sure exactly where, but I'm pretty sure it's in there.

Either way, there could be no switch. Anything like that would require a court order. How do you get one of those? You have to go to a federal judge for approval. What is required for approval of a court order? Oh. Right. "Evidence."

For the judiciary, the presumption of innocence still exists, and any action taken on this law would still have to hold up to judicial scrutiny. This bill is not a constitutional amendment...so all of those awesome "bill of rights" guarantees from the constitution would still apply.

If Katy Perry's copyright owner could prove the video in question was not fair use, and that YouTube was "primarily designed or operated for...violations of the Copyright Act", and that they've taken "deliberate actions to avoid" enforcement, then yeah...they could potentially be shut down. But that'd be nearly impossible to prove in court, and if it can't be proved in court, then law enforcement still has to abide by federal rules of evidence.

SOPA is not a constitutional amendment. It is a bill, with the potential to become a law. Let's be clear about that. The constitution still wins.

So don't be afraid. Legitimate internet usage will still be protected, and cannot be infringed upon. This includes fair use -- a code that everyone creating content should familiarize themselves with. In addition, most copyright holders need (and actively work with) sites like YouTube, Facebook, Tumblr, and Google. Those sites are not the problem.

The problem is jurisdiction. This is the reason that The Pirate Bay can respond to legitimate copyright infringement take-down requests with a hearty "Go fuck yourself" (as well as an entire page dedicated to being assholes about the whole thing). This is the reason that a Russian-based music sharing website can decide to set their own licensing costs without the copyright owners consent.

You can access any site in the world via the internet. It's great, but what happens when one of your country's most important exports is being distributed for free via the internet? That country has an obligation to plug that leak. Do you think Saudi Arabia would just sit idly by as people took their oil and gave it away for free online? Or would Columbia just allow people to come in, grab any many coffee beans as they could carry, then turn around and sell those beans for a fraction of what they cost to produce?

Of course not. America must look after its own financial interests. If that includes blocking access to illegal websites, and stoppering advertising dollars flowing into that site, then so be it.

And it's only going to get worse. More and more people are "cord cutting;" essentially canceling cable television, and digesting all of their entertainment content online. However, watching habits have not changed. The current roll of legitimate streaming sites (Hulu, Netflix, iTunes, Amazon) have restrictions on what's available and when. Consequently, when these cord cutters find out that practically every show and movie ever filmed is available for free somewhere, they'll either drift away from legitimate services altogether, or supplement their pay services with pirate services.

Either way, with free pirated content in the mix, any legitimate service is unsustainable until that problem can be dealt with. SOPA would do a good job in addressing that issue. It won't make it go away (and I don't think anyone involved with the bill thinks it will fix online piracy for good), but it will make accessing online content much more difficult...which is how it should be, dammit. People used to build shacks in the woods, with complicated distribution rings to bootleg whiskey during prohibition. All people need to distribute illegal online content is a computer, an internet connection, and a comfy chair.

So anyway, if you're truly frightened of this legislation, I would ask: "When was the last time a federal law ruined an entire industry?" Prohibition doesn't count; that was a constitutional amendment (a difference we've covered already). But has a law ever been passed that ruined an entire sector of business? I'd be curious to know...because I can't think of one.

These things have a way of evening out over time. If the law truly overreaches, it will be struck down by the courts. If it somehow breaks the internet, industry pressure will force concessions, and court cases will iron out the details. The sky is not falling, chicken little. It's a good bill, addressing a serious, growing problem. If it's passed, the only people who should be truly afraid are the guys making money from internet piracy, and the piracy customers. You good, law-abiding folk have absolutely nothing to fear.

More Ruminations on Death and Dying

Warning: This post is going to get a little macabre, and probably pretty self-indulgent. I apologize, but it's my damn blog, so I do what I want with it.

Also, Erika...you probably shouldn't read this. Just trust me.

I'm sitting at my desk. It's 1:45 PM, and I've just finished my Lean Cuisine -- Chicken in Peanut Sauce. I'm watching an episode of Grey's Anatomy, hunched over my keyboard with my feet folded underneath my chair.

I've had a pretty bad headache all day, probably from stress or dehydration. I take two Tylenol every couple of hours, and that's helped me get through the day.

I cough involuntarily, and notice that my heart is racing. I lean back in my chair and take a couple of deep breaths. My heart is still racing. I loosen my belt and take a drink of water. Something clicks in my head, and I hear a buzzing noise and the pain in my head goes from "irritating" to "debilitating." Suddenly I can't focus on the screen in front of me, and I try to just focus on breathing as I slump back in my chair. Sounds are echoing in my head, distantly.

I try to lift my hand to the phone, but my arm won't move. I'm still breathing, but I can't see anything -- my field of view is now just a blurry dot in the center of my vision. I need to make noise, so I try. I moan, grunt, sigh, anything to catch my coworkers' attention. Hopefully they'll see my unconscious body and come to my aid. Shouldn't be long -- people walk by my cubicle all the time.

I have a lot of thoughts racing through my head. Is this a panic attack? Am I having a stroke? Is this going to cost a lot of money? Will my brain ever work the same?

Will I survive?

Unfortunately, I've had a brain aneurysm.

My coworkers find me and I'm taken to the hospital, which is just a couple of blocks away. I survive the trip, and live on life support for a couple of days, but I'm essentially a vegetable. Eventually, after the family has a chance to gather, my life support is terminated.

In a couple of days I've gone from a normal, seemingly healthy 32 year old man with all kinds of silly notions and opinions, to a boring old corpse.

This is my greatest fear, and also my biggest obsession. Consequently, it's probably a source of quite a bit of tension for me, as I've self-diagnosed myself with "stroke-like symptoms" probably a half-dozen times this year.

Dying scares me, and I think rightly so. Self-preservation is hard-wired into every single living thing, thanks to evolution. But then again, fear of death for a healthy individual is (as far as I know) just for us humans.

But I think about death a lot, and it bums me out.

For example: a road I take every day was closed this morning. I figured there must have been an accident or something. So I got to work and found this article: http://abclocal.go.com/kabc/story?section=news/local/los_angeles&id=8440070

This fatal accident happened about 2 hours before I cruise down that road for my commute. I drive a scooter. If this had been me, it would have been very bad.

Sometimes dying makes sense -- old people die all the time. Dumb people die all the time. Sometimes people get struck with genetic diseases, or get cancer for whatever reason. People take years to die, or can die in just a couple of months after ignoring symptoms.

But sometimes dying is just totally unfair.

For instance, there's this article from the Seattle Times about a couple that was sitting in their Hyundai, waiting at a stoplight. As they were sitting in their car, probably listening to the radio, or talking about inane stuff, an SUV came barreling down the street and smacked into them, going about 80 miles per hour. The Hyundai caught fire, and the couple, doing nothing at all to put their lives in danger, died together.

http://o.seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2016772748_lakecitycrash16m.html

Stuff like this is just not fair. They weren't driving fast. They weren't drunk or doing drugs. They were sitting in a stopped car, and they met an unimaginable fate.

So what do I do when I see this? Usually I gasp in horror and think about how it could have happened to me, or to someone I love. Then I look for names.

Kristopher Martin was one of the people killed in the Hyundai.

I want to see Kristopher's face.

There's a picture of him in the article. Looked like a nice enough guy...probably vegetarian, shopped at Trader Joe's. Probably liked hiking. I've known a lot of guys like Kristopher.

He was also in a band called "Touch My Hand for Tenderness." I wondered if there were any clips of the band on YouTube. There were.



Typical Seattle Indie band kind of feel. On the YouTube channel, they've listed their genre of music as "Adventurous Creative Ineptitude." Self-deprecating; I love. I also love that they're basically playing on a patio, with a bunch of people walking around between the camera and the band. Kristopher's playing guitar, and he's also the lead singer. He wasn't a very great singer, but he was a pretty decent musician. He looked really tall, too.

After a little time poking around, I feel like I knew Kris pretty well. I probably wouldn't have been friends with the guy, but I could have had a pretty good conversation with the guy.

I couldn't find much about his girlfriend, but then again, I didn't look very hard. She seemed like a nice, quiet, academic type.


But I felt a compulsion to get to know this people...which is basically why I have this blog.

I'm not going to last forever. Hell, I might go tomorrow...and I honestly don't know what my obituary would look like. It wouldn't be very impressive -- it'll be tragic, sure, because of the wife and infant son and my young age and all that...but as far as "achievements," it's not like I built the Hoover Dam or anything like that. I'm just a guy who lived for a while, procreated, then all the sudden wasn't there any more. Nothing legendary or epic about my life to merit any more than a passing mention in the newspapers, depending on the details of my demise.

But I'd like to have some kind a legacy. Not some major "honorary award" kind of legacy, but just something where people who knew me could come and go, "Oh yeah...that guy. Huh." And people who didn't know me could come and go, "Oh, this guy was fascinated with his own death. That's ironic."

Basically, this blog is my legacy.

Because, as you might know, I've been doing a lot of family genealogy. The last couple of generations are pretty well fleshed out, as I've got photographs, family stories, and personal experiences with these people. I've written down what I can, because that's the kind of flavor later generations will enjoy. But you go back 100 years in my family tree all I have are the occasional black and white photo, and a lot of handwritten census bureau information. I don't know those people, and I wish to hell that I did.

So, ultimately, I'd just like people to know me...if they're curious. I'm sure there are other folks out there who feel some sense of obligation to honor the recently deceased...especially those that met sudden ends, under tragic circumstances. I'd like to give those folks the opportunity to know me, should I meet with some kind of untimely demise. And if I don't, then I'm totally fine with that, and instead this can just be a place to funnel the delusions of a man who thought his life was worthy of some kind of public scrutiny.

Injured...

Quick update time: I've been taking Karate (technically Hapkido) lessons for the last three months.

Okay, up to date now? Good.

So today I went to my usual 6:45 PM lesson at the Team Karate Centers in Woodland Hills. I was running late, so I came in at the end of the stretching (this would prove crucial).

After a few warm-up roundhouse kicks, me and my fellow orange belts started doing some "power kick" drills with a partner. The first one was the front kick. I ripped off about ten of those without a problem. The next drill was the switch front kick, where you quickly switch your feet then kick with your off-foot.

My first kick was great. But on the second one, right after I switched my stance, someone whacked me in the back of my calf with a staff or stick or something.

I was a little irritated so I whipped around to face my attacker. No one was there.

Oh. Shit.

I took a seat on the mat. Ow. Owowowowow. First thing I thought was: Achilles tendon. I remember hearing horror stories in my football days of guys rupturing their Achilles tendons, and having it bunched up in a little ball in their heel.

I felt my Achilles. Still there. The pain was focused on the meaty part of my calf, well out of the way of my Achilles.

Speaking of pain. Yeah. It was not going away. It wasn't getting any worse, but it was kind of just this low, aching rumble. I knew I had myself a classic "bad injury."

Someone fetched some ice for me, and I sat on the mat...lamely holding the plastic bag of ice on my injured calf muscle while I tried to wrap my head around this. I've never had any kind of crippling injury before, after about 20 years of competitive sports in my youth, so this was a new thing for me. Images of emergency rooms, surgeries, pain meds, and medical bills swam through my head.

I told my Sensei that I was done for the night. He told me to take three days off and get some rest. I nodded, bid him goodnight, hobbled to my car, and threaded my way through a clogged 405 freeway.

When I got home, Google calmed me down a bit. From my good friends at Foot Education: "Calf (Gastrocnemius) muscle tears commonly occur in middle-aged recreational athletes while performing actions that require sudden changes in direction."

Recreational athlete? Yep. Middle aged. Yep. Change in direction? Uh huh. Looks like I got me a torn calf muscle. I remember when I was young and limber and invincible...ah well. Crap like this is just going to start happening to me now, I guess.

Bummer.

So, the good news is: no surgery (probably). Bad news is: crutches, pain, immobility, and a terrible inability to render parental assistance. I guess it could be worse...

Parental Anorexia

Being a parent is hard.

Another revelation: water is wet.

Now, to prepare for this "parenthood adventure," we read quite a few books, attended a few classes, and read far to many internet articles. Of course, we'd issue the occasional "scoff," because we knew we were going to make mistakes (everyone does), and it was impossible to tell how things were really going to "go down" until the kid arrived. But, at the same time, we wanted to be "good parents," and do our due diligence in preparing for our little bundle of Bean.

Four months in, and...well, I think we're doing a good job. Henry's happy, he's healthy, he smiles and laughs all the time...and according to all the applicable indices he's developing exactly as he's supposed to (excelling in some measures, really). He's not getting sick all of the time, and he seems to be an incredibly well-behaved, mellow baby (for the most part).

But...

Something in the back of my head keeps nagging at me...that I must be "doing something wrong." For instance, as I've talked about before -- I yearn for the times when Henry is sleeping at night, or is taking a nap, or just generally entertaining himself without the need for either parent to be "paying attention" to him.

Which brings me to my parental anorexia issue. Maybe parental dysmorphia? Parental inadequacy syndrome? I dunno'...

But I keep thinking: "Shouldn't I be loving this part?" Everyone else seems to...and there's this whole "cult of parenthood" where touchy-feely types tell us over and over to savor these moments...and talk to our kids constantly...and play with them non-stop...and revel in their every little coo and gurgle...and never get annoyed with them...and love them with every fiber of your being...et cetera.

I mean, there are times when I do do (hee hee!! POOPIE JOKE!!!!) that -- my favorite two hours of the day are the time between when I get home and Henry's bedtime, because I get to hold him, play with him, talk to him, and make him laugh as much as possible. It's a great routine; I get home around 6:45 PM, Erika makes dinner while I watch him, we eat, Henry eats, then I put him to sleep. I love it. It's my "happy place."

Of course, this is just two hours of time. It happens to be the perfect amount of "play time" before Henry starts getting "fussy."

Because the weekends...man, those are tough. I feel embarrassed to say it, but the refrain for Henry on the weekends seems to be "Well, let's see how long this lasts." If I'm home alone with the kid, I spend all of my time shuttling him between different stations (the play mat, the bouncy chair, the swing, the bumbo, outside, on the couch watching Sesame Street, etc.) to keep him entertained until his next feeding.

It's exhausting. I don't know how stay-at-home parents do it, and have done it since the dawn of man. I mean, do you just let the baby cry? All the time? I'll do that occasionally, of course...but I can't just listen to him crying his bored head off while I'm watching old episodes of "Mythbusters" or something. It feels very wrong (and probably is very wrong...which is why I can't bring myself to do it for more than a couple of minutes at a time).

Then again, I can't just hold him indefinitely either...for my sanity as well as for his. If I just held him all day, he'd cry whenever I left the room...or when I put him down for a nap...or if I had to use the restroom. I savor Henry's little moments of independence, and I feel like I should be developing that so he can soothe himself, as opposed to coddling him whenever he grunts in disapproval.

I also feel the guilt of allowing my kid to watch TV. Again, I imagine the "cult of parenthood" types would probably drop their jaws if they found out our child was watching TV daily when he was 2 months old (really for only about 20 minutes at a time...since he bored of it quickly..."See how long this will last" and all...). They'd also be shocked at how much time Henry is left alone on his play mat, while his parents "do stuff" around the house.

We're also giving Henry a pretty good amount of formula...about 50/50 with breast milk. Because, as it turns out, it's really time-consuming and physically demanding to maintain a steady pumping & feeding schedule. Of course, Henry is a very healthy baby boy...so obviously we're not doing him any harm...but it's one of those things that evokes a lot of passion in people, so again I get the feeling that I'm doing something wrong.

Finally there's the "circumcision" issue...a hot-button issue, with a lot of passion. For me, I just came to the conclusion that, "Well...I'm circumcised, so I might as well do the same for Henry." It's not like I have foreskin envy or anything...so why would he?

Then, after the fact, San Fransisco considers banning the practice. There's all kinds of talk about "genital mutilation" in the news. The practice is described as "barbaric." And now I'm rethinking the whole damn thing. Of course...it's too late to go back now...but...y'know?

So, from a highly critical point of view, we have a TV-watching, circumcised, formula-fed baby that we ignore whenever possible. We've let him sleep in his boppy, and we've used the bumbo on an elevated surface. He's been in cold weather without socks, and his bedroom can get very warm at night. He's received all of his immunizations, he uses disposable diapers, and I'm sure our house contains potentially hazardous materials somewhere.

To some, I imagine this would be considered borderline child abuse, or at the very least, "undesirable parenting practices."

So I do what every parent before me has done -- I feel guilty. I mean, Henry is happy, healthy, and well-behaved...yet I constantly feel like I'm doing something wrong.

Which is probably how every parent since the dawn of man has felt. Any responsible parent, that is...

Doncha' think?

I tried to fix Alanis Morissette's seminal hit "Ironic," by making it so the lyrics are actually demonstrating "irony."

I think it went pretty well. I completely ignored meter and rhyme...because I'm bad-ass and punk rock like that.


An old man turned ninety-eight
He won the lottery, and his name was "Yung Poorman."
It's a black fly in your "Black Fly Winery" Chardonnay.
It's a death row pardon for a member of "Death Row Records."
And isn't it ironic...don't you think?

It's like rain on Raine Wilson's wedding day
It's a free ride for a toll booth worker
It's the good advice from a convicted felon
Who would've thought it figures?

Mr. Play It Safe was afraid to fly
He packed his suitcase and kissed his kids goodbye
He waited his whole damn life to take that flight
But when he got to the airport, he found out
They had placed his name on a no-fly list.
And isn't it ironic...don't you think?

It's like rain on Raine Wilson's wedding day
It's a free ride for a toll booth worker
It's the good advice from a convicted felon
Who would've thought it figures?

Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything's okay and everything's going right
And life has a funny way of helping you out when
You think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up
In your face.

A traffic jam caused by a jackknifed trailer carrying strawberry jam
A no-smoking sign at the headquarters of Phillip Morris
It's like ten thousand spoons found in the city of Forks
It's meeting the man of my dreams
And finding out we're related.
And isn't it ironic...don't you think?
A little too ironic...and, yeah, I really do think...

It's like rain on Raine Wilson's wedding day
It's a free ride for a toll booth worker
It's the good advice from a convicted felon
Who would've thought...it figures?

Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you.
Life has a funny, funny way of helping you out
Helping you out.

The Time I was Almost on a Game Show: Part 2

If you missed part one, click on the blue underlined word, right here: here.

If you want to read part two, then just keep reading.

If you don't want to read anything, then you should probably just turn the computer off and look at the floor.

Still here?

Ah. Good.

Where the hell was I?

Oh yeah. Damn. This is probably going to be a three-parter, isn't it?

Sorry.

Um...

GET ON WITH IT!


All right. Fine.


So, I spent the good part of the week listening to country music, whenever I could tolerate it. Truth be told, this was not very often -- if you know anything about me, you know I have a pretty terrible work ethic.

At my computer, I listened to the "No. 1 Country Radio" option of the online radio CMT website. I also listened to the Los Angeles country music station when I drove anywhere in my car. What I heard on this station confirmed all of my fears about country music: I frigging hate it. I hate listening to it. I hate the precious simplicity of the lyrics. I hate the up-tempo fun songs. I hate the trite, hackneyed, horrible "serious" songs. I hate the steel guitar. I hate the preposterous, cliched, populist message of most song. I hate how they constantly rip on "technology" and "city folk" while the singers are making millions off of the Walmart loving rubes. I hate how they're so obviously lying when they're singing the verse of a "story-driven" song. I hate, hate, hate everything about country music. It sucks so much. So badly.

And if you think country music is good, then I'm sorry. You're wrong. So very wrong. Or you're confusing "old country music" with "new country music." Old country music is a totally different genre of music...and I don't really consider that "country music." For instance, here's I song I heard over and over and over and over. And over. Try to listen to this entire song without punching yourself repeatedly in the face:




Did you make it? I know I didn't. But hey, if you did, here's three points I want to make:

1) No. That didn't happen to you, liar. It never happened. You heard (or thought up) the chorus, sent it to two songwriters, then they sent you back a song that earned you a Grammy nomination for "Best Country Song."

2) If you think that message is profound you're either an alcoholic, an idiot, or an asshole.

3) Stop singing through your nose...and hey, nice job to ripping off "Down by the Riverside."


Anyhow, here's some "old country." Try to find the similarities.




Well, even if you skipped those two songs, you get the idea. Old country = charming, heart-felt, and simple. New country = soulless, corporate, simplistic, and manipulative.

But I digress (that should really be the name of this blog, shouldn't it?). The point is, I re-discovered a deep loathing that I felt for the "country music" genre, and I confirmed that my deep loathing is wholly justified.

So, back to the story. I showed up at a random office building just off of Ventura boulevard, and climbed the stairs to the "Singing Bee" corporate office. There, I saw some of the staffers from the original screening, as well as 5 other "potential contestants." They were all reasonably attractive Caucasians who were, in all likelihood, aspiring actors and/or singers like myself (I mean, they're in Los Angeles for a reason, right?).

We filled out some more paperwork, took some Polaroids, and had a quick interview with one of the interns where we had to tell "something interesting" about ourselves.

I generally hate the "something interesting" question. Firstly, I don't like talking about myself (unless it's part of a conversation). Secondly, I don't have good stories...just a long string of mediocre stories, and a razor-sharp wit (that second part is a lie).

So for me, the interview is tricky...because actors cannot be game show contestants. It ruins the whole "these are just regular folks" vibe of a game show. Game shows pull from the population of Los Angeles...and these people are generally transplants from somewhere colder, who moved to Los Angeles to become actors. If you got an honest nameplate for every contestant on a game show, I betcha' 90% would say: "So-And-So Johnson, 25, Aspiring Actor, Los Angeles."

This meant that, during my interview, I couldn't talk about acting or performing. Since that's the only really interesting thing about me, I do what I always do when backed into a corner -- I tell "half-truths."

So during my intern-interview, I happened to mention that I enjoyed ballroom dancing. It was true...kind of. I mean I took a couple of ballroom classes in Seattle and Bellingham...and I watched more episodes of "So You Think You Can Dance" than any straight man ought to admit to. But...it was vaguely interesting...as I don't look like your typical "Ballroom Dancer." I like to play on the "that balding 30 something can't possibly dance and sing" stereotype.

But my fib was good enough. I'm sure I said some other things too...but I can't remember any of them...and the fact that I can't remember any of them probably means they weren't very interesting...so...

After the "interview," we were all paid. Yep. We were each paid $50 for doing a "test run" of the game show. I thought, "This is probably all of the money I will make from this, because there is no way in hell I'm would win this if I were a contestant." At that time $50 was a lot of money for me, and quite a pleasant little surprise.

I probably spent it on groceries.

Anyway, with a fat 50 large in my wallet, we waited around a bit as a gaggle of "network executives" and "creative types" were wrangled into a conference room, where we were to play a mock round of the game.

It was here we got to meet the host of the show. Her name is Melissa Peterman, and she's a seventeen-foot-tall blond woman who was, apparently, an actress/comedienne of some renown. I'd never heard of her before, but my wife had (because she pays attention to stuff, and junk).

The conference room we were to host the show in had been hastily transformed into a stage. The same Asian guy from the first audition was sitting in the back, manning a laptop loaded with songs, and in front of him were about 20 "suits" -- producers, network people, writers, directors, who the hell knows?

One guy in the front row looked particularly disinterested (meaning he was probably the highest-paid guy in the room). I don't know if he looked up from his Blackberry the entire time.

So, remember all of that talk about listening to Country Music? Well...I did. But apparently you can't learn the lyrics of an entire genre of music over two weeks. Crazy, right?

So predictably, when the show started, I started sucking right away. The first round was a kind of an "elimination," where each person got a whack at completing the lyrics to a song. The first four people to complete a lyric moved on to the next round.

"Just get through this first stupid round," I thought to myself, "Then you can make an ass of yourself in the second round, which is oh-so endearing."

Luckily, an "oldie" came up. The guy in front of me -- a good ol' country boy, had never heard of the Monkees. Ouch. Mickey Dolenz just rolled in his grave.

The girl after him failed as well -- she was more Kanye, less Davy.

Those two had whiffed, and it was my turn.

Would you have advanced?

Oh, I could hide 'neath the wings of the bluebird as she sings
The six o'clock alarm would never ring
But it rings and I rise wipe the sleep out of my eyes
__________________?

DING!!!!!

Thank God. No one-and-done for the Ty-man.

After that, we got to "meet the contestants." This is where the contestants (and producers) got to see if they were actually interesting.

Ms. Peterman sidled up to me and read from her little card.

"So, Tyler. It says here you like ballroom dancing?"

"Oh yeah. I can cut a mean rug."

"Who do you dance with."

"My dear wife, we've been dancing steadily for about a year now." God I'm a terrible liar.

"That's great! Yeah, I always wanted to do that stuff, the paso adobe? What is it?"

"Pasodoble." (thank you "So You Think You Can Dance")

"Yeah, that's the one. I'm coming back to you for the commercial break, you can spin me around the floor a bit, cutie."

Oh shit. Wait, did she just call me cutie? What the hell? "Bring it on."

Then she moved to the next contestant.

"And this young lady is..."

Well, hopefully I gave those bastards enough personality to bring me on the real show. Sure, I was lying out of my ass...but I bet I could fake a pretty convincing Pasodoble if I needed to...especially if she didn't know what she was doing either.

Luckily, she didn't make out with me during the commercial break, or force me to dance. We advanced to the next round...which did not go well for me...but it was not an elimination round, so I got to stand up front for a while longer.

The object was to fill in the blanks of the lyrics to a popular song.

My turn was a song by some guy named "Kenny Chesney."

Shit.

How would you have done?

Well, me an' my lady had our first big fight,
So I _____ around 'til I saw the neon light.
A corner bar, an it just ___ _____.
So I pulled up.

Not a _____ around but the old bar keep,
Down at the end an' looking half asleep.
An he walked up, an' said : "What'll it be?"
I said: "The _____ stuff."

He didn't reach around for the whiskey;
He didn't pour me a ____.
His blue eyes kinda went _____,
He said: "You can't find that here.

Cos it's the ____ long kiss on a _____ date.
Momma's all ______ when you get home late.
And droppin' the ring in the _______ plate,
Cos your _____ are shakin' so much.
An' it's the way that she looks with the rice in her hair.
Eatin' burnt _______ the whole _____ year
An' askin' for _____ to keep her from tearin' up.
Yeah, man, that's the good stuff."

You get five points for every correct answer.

I wound up with 5 points at the end of my round...because one of the missing lyrics was from the title of the song.

Another reason to hate Kenny Chesney.

The round after that was some kind of betting round, and the group was winnowed down to two people. I don't remember how the game went exactly...but I (of course) did terrible. I ended the round with those 5 stupid points, and sat my ass out for the final round.

Once the pretend show had concluded, we all went our separate ways. I got in my car, immediately switched the channel off of the Country Music station, and drove home.

One week later I received a call. Was I available tomorrow? Because they wanted me to be on the show.

Uh oh.

And I'll tell you all about that...in Part 3 (which at this rate, should be ready a year from now).

Coming to Los Angeles Part 4: I'm Here! Now What?

So you did it, huh? You moved. You actually moved. I can't believe you actually frigging did it...

Idiot.

Ha ha. You're screwed now. LOL!

Good luck earning back all of that money you used to move here.

You won't last a year.

Probably won't even last six months.

But hey, if you do make longer, be prepared for several years of obscurity and failure.

I hope you like appearing in "self-produced low budget web videos" for the rest of your career!

Also, it's a good idea to prepare excuses to friends and relatives as to why you haven't "made it" yet.

Here are some popular ones:

"I don't have an agent, so..."

"I have an agent, but he's really crappy and he never gets me auditions, so..."

"I'm not in the union, so..."

"I joined the union too early and I can't compete with lower-paid non-union actors, so..."

"I'm not pretty enough, so..."

"I'm not skinny enough, so..."

"It's not what you know, it's who you know, so..."

"My boss threatened to fire me if I went to that audition, so..."

"I don't have any credits, and I can't get any credits because I don't have any credits (CATCH-22!), so..."

"I've just been really unlucky, so..."

"There aren't any roles for people my age/type/build/hair color/gender/ethnicity/species, so..."

"I need new headshots, but I can't afford them, so..."

And so on. You can use one of mine, or make your own! It's fun!

But that reminds me, have you seen my latest web video? It's hilarious!!! It's got a 25% funny on "Funny Or Die"!!!!

Crazy Train - watch more funny videos

Ugh. Okay. Sorry. Enough with the bitterness and negativity. We're here to have fun and build up your confidence, right?

Right?

Anyhow, I was totally kidding anyway. You're definitely going to make it here...because you have spunk. Talent. You've got star power, kid, and you will "make it" where others have failed.

It's your destiny.

But first things first -- once you've unpacked, set up your internet/cable, and thrown your own "Welcome Me to Los Angeles" BBQ/Housewarming, just take a week to do some LA stuff.

If you're on a budget (aren't we all), you should spend that first week doing some free/cheap stuff. Don't worry -- there's no rush. The "industry" isn't going anywhere.

Here's some budget-friendly ideas for your "Los Angeles Honeymoon" period. Check out Griffith Park (and the Observatory). Go down to the Santa Monica Pier. Check out the Walk of Fame. Experience the crowds of interesting people at the Venice Boardwalk. Buy a hot dog at Pinks. Eat at In-and-Out. Take pictures of the Hollywood sign (you can hike up behind the sign if you're up to it...I've done this about a half-dozen times). Walk around at The Grove. Get intimidated by the rich folks on Rodeo Drive. Drive around and locate some famous filming locations from your favorite TV shows and movies. Shoot an "I MOVED TO LA!!!" video about your adventure, featuring all of the neat places you went and post it to YouTube.

Then post the link here, so I can watch it. I promise I'll watch in a dimly lit room, late at night, with a few days' worth of stubble, wearing sweatpants, and eating a Snickers bar.

What fun!

Once you've got that out of your system, and you're now in love with Los Angeles (no one wants to hear you complain about Los Angeles, so please don't do that)...you can get down to the nitty-gritty of "breaking into the acting business."

But where to start?

Well...I'll tell you. Step one is the subject of my next blog entry: Marketing Materials.

Until then, here's another great web video I wrote, produced, and directed!!!

Parenthood

I'm going to try to not talk about parenthood too much here. I mean...I think it's inevitable that I'll talk about it, because it's kinda' the "big thing" going on in my life right now. Plus, whenever I say "I'm not going to be that guy," I typically renege on my promise almost immediately (for instance, I said I wouldn't change my Facebook profile picture to my child's face...and I would up breaking that oath about 10 hours after my child was born).

But, while I have the time, I just wanted to say a few words about being a dad. Or, at least, being a new dad...because I have no idea what it's like to be a long-term dad (obviously).

Strange. My kid might read this some day. Henry, if you're reading this: Hi! I'm going to say stuff about you! How exciting!

Here goes.

Well, first off, I'm going to talk about what hasn't changed, for me.

I thought, in my weird brain, that there was going to be some kind of shift. Like, all the sudden my priorities would change, and I would start sacrificing everything for my child. His desires would fill every waking moment, and seeing him happy would be the only thing that would make me (in turn) happy.

That didn't happen. I mean, for example, video games. I thought I'd swear off video games forever, and spend all of my time doting over my child's delicious, growing brain. But, in reality, I'm pretty sure I played a few video games while we were still at the hospital, as he was sleeping in his little hospital bassinet a few feet away. And my video gaming has continued unabated since that time. I just can't get away from it, apparently, which must mean I'm not sacrificing too much time...

I also am not sacrificing my own happiness to make my kid happy...and I don't think I will do that, or could do that. I feel like that's not fair to him -- for me to put all of that pressure on him to live the successful, happy life that his dad gave up when he was born. Happy parents make happy babies. That's my theory, at least.

This is not to say that I won't sacrifice. I mean...that's kinda' inevitable, right? For instance, it'll probably be a couple of years before we're able to get back to Europe. And dates with my wife (one my favorite things) will have to be at "infant-friendly" locations for at least a couple of years. Pretty much, any time I want to do something, I can't just plan it, then do it. I'll have to consider, "Well, what about Henry?"

But that fundamental shift in thought from "me" to "only him" hasn't happened. Henry's happiness does not consume my every waking moment...like I thought it would. I mean, that might happen at some point...but I don't know. I don't think it will.

Who knows?

Anyway, so what what has changed?

Quite a bit, of course. The biggest thing is, I've never really needed to be so mindful of something so helpless before. And he is -- he's so helpless. All he can do is fuss and cry. He can't feed himself, he can't entertain himself, he can't even talk. It's mentally exhausting caring for him sometimes, and I really look forward to those moments when he falls asleep...just so I can relax.

I mean...I feel ashamed admitting that...because in my head I'm supposed to love every second he's awake, so I can play with him and grow that lovely little brain of his. But that "asleep time" is so very, very nice. Whenever he's awake, I'm stressing about how to take care of him...but when he's asleep, I just look at him and think, "Goddamn...what an awesome kid."

Of course, I mean, I love him when he's awake. For instance, last Saturday I spent a good 30 minutes, just hovering above him saying "buh buh buh buh buh buh buh" and "muh muh muh muh muh muh muh" over and over. His smile just absolutely melts my cruddy little heart, and any time he tries to speak, or any time he makes a noise that isn't crying or straining, it's just fantastic.

It's hard work, though. And, inevitably, after he's had spent 30 minutes of gibberish-talking to daddy he'll want to do something else...and if he's not entertained he starts fussing. And if he's not scheduled to eat for another 2 hours, I have to find some way to entertain him until I can bring the bottle out (or hand him off to mommy). So I try walking around with him...or laying him on his play mat...or putting him in his swinging chair...or his bouncy chair...or singing to him...

Oftentimes these things will work for about 10 minutes before it's "fussy-time" again.

So when I say that I love him the most when he's sleeping...I'm not saying that I wish he'd sleep through this first year and he'd then wake up at the end totally ready to walk, talk, and laugh (although...now that you mention it...).

Because I love lots things about him now. Awake things. I love how he's grown from this squalling little pooping and peeing flesh sack, to a little clumsy person I can interact with. I love when he falls asleep on my chest after his late-night feeding. I love how he wobbles when I stand him on his feet. I love all the strange cooing noises he's started making. I love his little goofy, dimpled smiles. I love his fat little knees, his soft feet, and his big ol' double chin. I love the smell of his hair. I love how he holds onto my fingers when I put them in his hands. I love how amazed he is at everything. I love how, when he's startled, he splays his arms out to the side. I love his little sighs and grunts. I love taking him up in my arms. I love watching his eyelids droop right before he falls asleep. I love how his head bobs gently when I hold him in the "seated" position. I love his enormous blue eyes.

I don't love how mushy that last paragraph was. Blech. Sorry Henry...hopefully you skipped forward to the next paragraph once you saw what I was doing there.

So yeah...that's parenthood for me. I do kind of wish that he were already about 3 years old or so...because it seems like this first part is just taking forever. But I'll probably look back one day and realize (like every parent does, apparently) that they just "grow up to fast."

I just hope I'm doing it right. I mean, I'm not fishing for encouragement or anything...because I sure think I'm doing it right. I just hope I'm not wrong.


My boy.

Baby Terminology

Wife and I have come up with some terminology that we use in the caring of our son. Thought you might enjoy it -- here's the list:

- Bean (proper noun): Henry Sebastian Rhoades' primary nickname. "Who's my little Bean?"

- Num nums (noun/verb): the partaking of breast milk. "You ready for num nums, buddy?"

- Back-burp (verb): the process of bringing Bean's knees up to his chest to get him to squeeze out a fart or two or fifteen. "I tried to back-burp him for a bit, but nothing came out. Maybe he's still hungry?"

- Boy stuff (noun): the cool stuff that dad and Bean do when mom needs a break -- usually involves Bean sleeping while dad watches TV. "Go ahead and take your bath. We're going to hang out on the couch and do boy stuff."

- Sneak attack (noun): when Bean pees during a diaper change. "I had to change his onesie too -- there was a sneak attack while I was putting stuff on his diaper rash."

- Burples (noun/verb): both the act of burping the Bean, as well as the resulting burp. "You need burples, Bud?"

- Squirkles (noun): nickname given to Bean when he's not quite asleep, and not quite awake. The nickname reflects the weird noises he makes at that time. "What's up, Squirkles? You going to stay awake for num nums?"

- Bean-o-potamus (noun): nickname given to Bean when there's no rush, he's not crying, and his parents are in good spirits. "Would you mind holding Bean-o-potamus while I go get dinner ready?"

- Beanamus Maximus (noun): nickname given to Bean when he's in a seated position -- often shortened to Beanamus. "All right Beanamus Maximus, it's time to take you for a walk."

- Gurgles (noun): nickname given to Bean just after he's just finished eating, before being burped. "Was those some good num nums, Gurgles?"

- Goebbles (noun): variation of the nickname Gurgles -- used when Bean expresses some form of anti-Semitic behavior. "Hey Goebbles, stop writing your manifesto and go to sleep."

- Bud (noun): nickname given to Bean when asking him a question. "Hey Bud -- you crap your pants again?"

- Punchy (adjective): word used to describe Bean's cheeks, which are lovely, angelic and round. "Lookin' punchy today, Beanamus."

- Gunk (noun): the yellow crap that collects in the corner of Bean's eyes. "I'm going to wet a cotton ball to clean up the gunk."

- Fussing (verb): what Bean does when he's not sleeping -- normally involves grunts, flailing, and (occasionally) crying. "I put him in his crib at ten, but he was fussing, so I got him out and fed him again."

- Binky (noun): the one pacifier that Bean likes, with the white shield -- if we ever misplaced it, we'd be lost, "Maybe try his binky, see if he falls back asleep?"

- Boppy (noun): the u-shaped pillow that is used during num nums, as well as any time Bean is uncomfortable just lying flat on his back. "Can you hand me the boppy? I'm going to feed him again."

- Diapy (noun): diaper. Pronounced: die-pee. "Hey Bud, you need a new diapy?"