Son of a Butch, part two. I Attempted a Fish Fry in Your Honor and Also a Post, but the Black Cloud Followed Me.

I wrote this entry and then the Internet ate it. So, this is my second attempt.

So, mom says my father needs cataract surgery, but we got you Cee-Lo Green glasses at Christmas, so you should be good to go. Why would you need surgery, when we purchased you corrective lenses?

Seriously, I am always sad when I can't be in Syracuse to celebrate special occasions with the family and yesterday's celebration of my father's birthday was sadly missed. In his honor, I went for a fish fry - knowing that he was doing the same in upstate New York. I stopped on my way home and before heading into the garage to unpack more boxes, I sat in the kitchen to eat the greasy food. Alas, they screwed up my order and I had to go back and finagle the actual order. I wanted to give up on the day, but persevered.

Although the DAY OF YOU was yesterday, I'm posting the celebration today. I learned from you, my father, that there's nothing a man can do in life but give his best and keep on keeping on - you got to work and you have to stay committed. No matter how much the lawn grows or the snow falls, you have to tackle it with dedication, labor, and the desire to do what is right.

This, of course, is written in hopes that there will be no more store. I'm done for this season...I don't know about everyone else.

Here's hoping there was a beer or two in front of my father on his special day and that he found joy with the anarch that is family. Ideally, I would have loved to be there, too, but I'm five hours away and settling into another phase of my life.

I love you, Dad. You'll be happy should you visit - the television is hooked up and it's ready for March Madness...although the news of Syracuse's infractions, named on your birthday of all days, has made those of us with a flair for CNY sports a little distraught. Still, this too shall pass.

Another year older. It continues to be amazing and I'm thankful for everything my father has done for me.

The Point About The Point Is That There Is No Point. "He's Got a Point Here." Unpacking an Oldie But Goodie

Sometime after 2001, Meredith Alexander, A.C. Sprite and Brown School original, sent me the script and the story of Oblio, the boy born with a round-noggin in a land of sharp-edged pointy characters. The laws of the land, however, state that everyone must have a 'pointed' head, so Oblio is a total misfit. He and his sidekick, Arrow, venture throughout the animated film throughout the Pointless Forest where they discover giant bees and a pointed man who claims,

"A point in every direction is the same as no point at all."

There's also a man made of rock, the prancing fat sisters, the leaf-man, and the epiphany, there's a point to all of us. We simply must find it.

Written by American songwriter and musician Harry Nilsson, the story quickly was a favorite of a few Brown School students who chose the quirky life over the predicable one.

Yesterday, I debated whether or not to unpack all my cds as students at Brown made me mixes every year - I have hundreds of them and each represents the unique personalities they had. I decided that it's okay to keep and horde such music because each tells a story of a time that once was. I am thinking, too, that it just might be my point in life - to hold onto stories simply because they crack me up. And with that noted, I leave a link to the movie, narrated by Ringo Starr, here.

This Too Shall Pass - Madman Emptying The Ocean With a Fork, AKA Crandall the Lunatic of Feburary/March

As of last night, one more horrific shoveling experience at Nichols Avenue on the driveway from hell, I can claim, "All my things are officially out of home A and at home B. I wanted home B because it had an attached garage but the truth is, my garage is now a chaotic mess of stored crap still needing to be brought inside.

I have hustled so much in seven days to get everything relocated and didn't pay attention to the logic or order of what went into the garage or where. The result? It will take me a while to unravel, and I am in no rush. I am still trying to stay sane within my insanity.

I've often been told I'm crazy for the pace I keep and the way I roll out my world. This, however, has been more maddening than anything I've ever attempted to accomplish before. I packed up a house, moved it, and began anew all in 7 days (meanwhile, I am working full time, overseeing grants, and trying to stay afloat of advising, meetings, and writing responsibilities.

Oh, have I mentioned that we've had three storms during this entire process and I went to Jersey to see my niece perform (a wonderful hiatus from the insanity, except the Field of View group who performed the insane asylum that has been my life this month).

Now, another storm tonight. Let's hope I can shovel the driveway and rearrange the garage to make the official move in more seamless and logical. Spring break is upon us, but there is no spring in southern Connecticut.

Yet, I have spring in my step and pep in my stride. That's the only way to be (he says, cracking up the entire way).

Maybe It's a Bad Idea, But For a Moment It Seemed Logical and Rather Practical. I Mean, It's Pavlov.

I've heard from many pet owners that one way they condition their animals is by squirting them with a water bottle to curb unwanted behaviors - that is, jumping on furniture, scratching inappropriate objects, peeing inside.

Yesterday, discussing behavior of students and individuals at work, in our families, and at home, we tried to find a professional solution to best redirect behaviors that we don't like to be around. I suggested we carry water bottles with us.

Drink milk from the container. One squirt to the face. Interrupt someone while they're talking, two squirts. Arrive late to class, three squirts. It seemed logical at the moment, and then the reality hit me that I was actually serious. That's when I started laughing. If only it was this easy.

Imagine the world if we had the freedom to condition one another in the way we do our cats and dogs. Well, simply put, we'd all be wet.

"Butch, would you please remember to put the seat down after you use the toilet," my mother could say to my father. Then she could give him five squirts with the water bottle.

Life would be beautiful if we were allowed to be this innovative.

It's The Small Moments In Life That Fulfill Meaning, Purpose, And What We Contribute To The World. Yup.

Note to self: There's never a good time to move.

Another note to self: With this noted, it probably isn't best to move into a new home during the winter and with a full load of teaching responsibilities.

A third note to self: With the above said, it wasn't logical to upgrade your I-Photo library while getting ready for classes tomorrow night and right before bed and posting this blog entry.

A final note: But this is the way Crandall rolls...

...and this happened today. My colleagues and I were collaborating with all our graduate students when I noticed a pair of glasses left on the floor from the previous class. I picked them up, put them on the dry erase board, drew a head and did a thought bubble: Someone left their glasses. Mind if I borrow them?

I'm not sure if the participants in the room were amused by my doodle, but it was a slight spot in a tremendously stressful day, week, month, and life that made me laugh at myself, the pace I keep, and the way I cope with the stress.

It's these little things, I tell you. Actions like this keep me sane.

It's Official: Crandall Has Had It With This Winter and He's Ready For the Big Thaw Already. Seriously.

1 to 3 inches they said. A dusting.

So, I decided yesterday would be great day to bring the rest of the items from Nichols to Mt. Pleasant. I began at 10 a.m. when I returned from New Brunswick. The first four trips were successful, but the second four were a little ridiculous with the "light snow".

That. Didn't. Stop. Falling. All Day.

I shoveled once. I shoveled twice. I shoveled a third time (all at the new home - forget the old one). And I accomplished my goal of getting everything but a few things out from location one and into location two (the garage).

And it continued to snow. But I was determined to accomplished my goals and I did. Then, I settled around 10 p.m. to drink a beer when the phone rings. Chitunga missed the train stop and needed a ride from Milford. So, out I go again in the 10 m.p.h. traffic to get the kid, bring him to his car at the Stratford train station (which was buried in snow and he couldn't get it out).

Home again. Get the shovel. Shovel the driveway to get out of the driveway, and back to the train station to rescue his geriatric Nellie. Success.

And then I could settle.

I think there must be 8 inches that fell today and now I'm wondering how tomorrow will go. It is still snowing.

I've decided that the weather people are tired of the drama, too, so they downplayed this storm.

Um, they missed the accuracy on this one (and looking at the forecast, more snow on Tuesday and Thursday? Seriously?).

I've had it. Connecticut's had it. We give in. Bring on the daffodils and rain showers. Enough with the ice and white stuff. It's official. I'm done with it. It's no longer beautiful. It's a pain in the A$$!

The Roads In Jersey Are Some Bull Schnozzle, But Running Into David Byrnes Made the Traffic Worth It

I took Saturday off to see my niece perform in New Brunswick and who was there to see the show? David Byrnes of Talking Heads who is putting together a concert later this year in which Nikki and the Brigadiers will be performing. Lucky for us, Cynde was in her Brigadiers shirt so his people walked up to her in the cafeteria and I asked (they looked somewhat official), "By any chance are you the David Byrnes people?"

They were and he was right behind me. I was able to get this photo of my mother and the lead singer before we reentered the gym.

Yep, same as it ever was.

I had flashbacks all day of my high school years and how much I loved his quirkiness and music. What a great opportunity to run into the icon in a high school cafeteria. Here I was taking a one-day sabbatical from unpacking and WOLA! we meet this guy! Go figure!