Rolo Tomasi
Look what I found in the vending machine at work.
Big whoop, right?
I haven't had Rolos in years. I don't remember the last time. Not that the last time went down in my journal or anything.
When I saw the Rolos in the machine, I immediately thought of my dad. Rolos always make me think of him. I have a strong childhood memory of my dad liking Rolos. I don't know if memory is the right word, because I don't remember anything specific. I just have that knowledge from childhood that Dad likes Rolos and used to share them with me.
Of course, only a fat guy would tie his memories to eating. Memories like when we tried to force the neighbor kid to eat dog poop, or when local bully Herky Jerky licked the street in an attempt to intimidate us. Ok, maybe not exactly like those memories. Still... good times.
Trust
A little about the picture in the last post. My daughter, M, on the ATV with me is 3-years-old. We had taken her older brother and sister out on the ATV's earlier and they loved it, so M decided she really wanted to go. I came back with her sister and waited while they got M ready and transfered the gloves and 70's style, golden flecked, helmet.
M started crying, saying she didn't want to go and the helmet was too heavy, which it was for a 3-year-old. We took the helmet off and put her on the ATV, where she was still crying and not wanting to go.
"Okay, we won't go," I said. "Just let Mom take your picture." Now, I have to confess, I was always planning on going. The Wife was of the same mind, nodding at me to just go. So the picture was taken and faster than my mind is usually capable of, I pictured the future of taking her for a ride when I told her I wouldn't.
What would happen to the trust she has in me? No doubt it would have been hurt. Maybe not irreparably, since she is only 3. Or maybe more since she is only 3. There was no way I wanted my little girl to think Daddy lied. In the split second these thoughts ran through my mind, my heart almost broke at the mere thought of just hitting the throttle and saying, "See, I knew you would like it."
I leaned down and asked her again if she would like a ride. She said no. "I will go real slow."
"You won't go fast?"
"No, just slow. Do you want to go?"
She nodded nervously. I crawled up the hill and down the path a bit. "See, it's not scary."
"Just go slow."
"I promise."
About 100 feet down the path she said she wanted to go back. I didn't argue. The fact that she was brave enough to do what she already had done was good enough for me. We returned to cheers from the fam for M's bravery.
I felt great knowing that I helped her conquer a fear. I felt even better knowing I had done it while keeping her trust intact.
Memorial Day 2008
Can you believe the snow on Memorial Day? Okay, to be fair we were up a mountain at over 8200 feet. It was awesome.
For more pics, click here.
Road Rage
My commute this morning was just lovely.
To the moron in the KIA P.O.S. - Constantly swerving back and forth without warning between the two lanes, trying to figure out which one is moving the fastest for the next few seconds, is not going to get you to your crappy job any sooner. Have you not seen that Seinfeld episode? Oh, and straddling both lanes while trying to decide doesn't work either.
To the idiots who feel they have to merge right away. Why? Every morning as I merge onto the freeway, the traffic I am merging into is just crawling. Once the on ramp comes level with the freeway there is still a good 100 yards or so before it merges into the next lane and disappears, but this doesn't stop stupid drivers from forcing their way into the slow moving column as soon as possible. When they pull left, I go around them and take the merge lane as far as I can. I end up 10-15 cars ahead of these losers. What, if you don't get over right then, no one let you in later? The merge lane is that long for a reason.