Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Fathers-In-Law...

 Joe...
 Pepe...
Rich and Rob...
...I brought you all here to talk about my Father-In-Law, who passed away September 14th, 2016. I'm not sure you know this, but fathers-in-law (which the correct pluralization - 'cause I looked it up) can be pretty intimidating.
Especially when you're dating his youngest daughter.
However, being the youngest daughter meant that Mrs. Adorkification had two key advantages over her two older sisters: she learned from their mistakes and her father had already gone through the whole 'daughter dating' thing.
    Now...I'm a bit of a nerd. 
Even more so when I was 17 and a college freshman. I grew up in an upper middle class family of four in Woodbury, Connecticut...after previously living in Danbury, CT and Ridgewood, NJ (where I was born). 
My father-in-law was born in Biddeford, Maine. He grew up in Biddeford, Maine. He raised four kids in Biddeford, Maine working at the Biddeford Textile Mills, and his funeral service was at the same church he was married at 55 years ago.
You wouldn't think that these two different people would get along, but we did. Might have been the sense of hunmor
As Mrs. Adorkification and I were dating, she told bout her sister's boyfriends...and the things her father did to them. Early on, he would take them out hunting. As time passed, he merely showed them his extensive (and I mean extensive) gun collection. So when it was my turn to make 'the visit', I felt as prepared as I could have been. I remember sitting in their kitchen eating a sandwich when her father came up from his workshop in the basement. He walked in, I $#!t you not,
 holding a f**king machette.
RIGHT?
So I'm sitting there, sandwich in hand, with the father of the young woman I'm...err...having relations with...looking at me with a giant knife in his hand. And he's not saying a word. I looked at the knife, I looked at him, I looked back at the knife, I looked back at him and I said: "Nice knife," as non-intimidated as I could muster. He reached out, opened a drawer, took out a sharpening stone and said "It's a little rusty, but I like to keep it nice and sharp." as he started sharpening it. The he put the stone back in the drawer, turned around and went back downstairs.
Sweetie, you never told me about the knife.
Early on in my relationship with him, outside of that exchange we didn't talk very much, until the night of The Sleepover.
Whenever I visited my wife's family, I took the bus up. Which meant I had to stay at their house. Both her parents were gracious hosts, but they had rules. Most notably, I slept downstairs and she slept upstairs. 
(And if you think I would EVER cross that line...)
But there was one weekend where I came up and met two of her high school friends who were also a couple. The four of us went out for pizza or something and ended up crashing back at her house on the living room floor. 
At some point in the night, her father came downstairs to use the bathroom. She and I were completely dressed, but we were spooning. With my left arm around her waist. I'm a light sleeper, so I was awake when I heard him stop to look at us. My eyes were closed, but I could feel his eyes on me and I was smart enough not to move. After an eternity of silence, he turned and went on to the bathroom. That was when I took a breath. He came out, went back upstairs and I fell back asleep.
From that point on, we got along great. Because he knew I would take care of his little girl. 
Every time I visited, he taught me something; how to take care of pigeons, tar a roof or build things. In fact, a few years ago the front steps of our house needed fixing. He came up with his power tools, quick dry cement and some 2x4 (while my mother-in-law kept my wife busy) and we built brand new steps. Together. And they're still solid as a rock.
After his daughter and I got married, he gave me the second best gift he ever could:
(And yes Adorkette, it's a little rusty, but it's STILL nice and sharp.)
He never judged me on my upbringing, and I never judged him on his. He never made me feel less because I didn't know something, and I never hesitated to help when he needed it (like setting up WiFi or surround sound). We had something you don't see very often between in-laws: mutual respect.
I couldn't have asked for a better father-in-law.
It's been rough these past few weeks, and the next three months aren't going to get any easier (this is the year we spend Thanksgiving with her family instead of mine), but we'll work our way through it. 
And wherever he is, when he looks down on me he won't have to worry. I'll always take care of his little girl.

Monday, September 19, 2016

Post-poned...or why I missed posting last week

Mrs. Adorkification's father passed away.

I really can't go into it right now, but he'd been sick for a while. It wasn't a surprise. and it wasn't a shock.

Adorkette and I visited him the morning before, and my wife was with him (along with Mrs. Adorkification's mother of course) at the end. The funeral was Saturday.

I'm sure I'll talk about my relationship with him at some point, but for now let me say this: I couldn't have asked for a better father-in-law.

We're still dealing with things and stuff, so I won't be posting anything else the rest of the week.

Life happens. The hard part, is living it.

Friday, September 9, 2016

WTF? Friday (9/9/2016)

 I know Joe. "Just the Facts." Okay, here are some facts:
Summer, unfortunately, lasts approximately 91.25 days. Exactly the same as every other season.
It does NOT run from Memorial Day to Labor Day. It runs from the Summer Solstice to the Autumnal Equinox.
It ALSO does not give people the right to act like asses during this confusing time period.
  • Just because you can afford to have your fancy vehicle stored away nine months out of the year, doesn't mean you can take up three spaces by parking diagonally.
  • Stop looking for long sleeve hoodies in July. You're in Maine. Deal.
  • You wanna drive with the top down? Fine. You wanna drive with your foot sticking out of the window? You're a moron.
  • Stop looking for bathing suits in September. See above.
  • Speaking of September, you have to stop for school buses. Even when taking your 40-footer you named 'Tax Shelter' for a "spin".
  • If you're in a store with your children (whether it's raining or not) and they break something, tell someone.
  • When you visit another place, drive like those around you. You wouldn't drive on the right in London, and you wouldn't head towards Broadway and 42nd Street doing 5 mph. You'd get killed. Going 60 on a back road at 2 AM? Same thing.
  • Trash cans exist for the sole purpose of holding trash. Use them. That being said, trash cans are NOT ashtrays.
  • When talking with your friends about the problems you face refurnishing your cottage, remember that some people around you live here year round...and have to afford heating oil.

Seriously Joe,
the Equinox can't get here fast enough.

Monday, September 5, 2016

Monday Movie Roundup...9/5/2016

 Okay Pepe - after last Friday's rant to Joe, I'm gonna keep this short.
Suicide Squad made $12.8 million in the U.S., making its domestic total $300.2 million. Adding in the $375.5 million from everywhere else, you're looking at a $675.7 million worldwide total...in 32 days.
Yep. They beat him.
Suicide Squad is now the second top grossing film of the DCEU.
It still has another $200 million to go to beat BvS, but I'm okay if that doesn't happen.
As for the MCU,
it also beat T:TDW.
Have a good week Pepe!

Friday, September 2, 2016

GoT Season 5! (WTF? Friday...9/2/2016)

Okay Joe, tighten your shorts, 'cause this one's gonna hurt,
So.

Season 5.
For the life of me, I've never understood why Charlie Brown kept going back to Lucy to hold the damn ball. Once? That makes sense. Twice? That's testing the waters as it were. An opportunity to prove the theory that the first time may have just been a bad day. Plus, the whole 'signed document' thing. After landing on his back the third time, he should have called it done and given the ball to someone else. Anyone else. My money would be on Peppermint Patty. She'd not only hold the ball, she'd offer advice on how to kick it further...and then prove it. With Chuck taking a turn holding the ball. (Hey girl...)
I know. I'm digressing.

My point is - by strike number 3, you're out.
By the end of Season 3 I should have known better, but I keep going back to this crap anyways. Dammit.
WARNING - HERE THERE BE SPOILERS
 She finally, FINALLY, starts fulfilling her oaths. Shame it took over three seasons...
 Oh. So he IS in love with Dany. But five seasons? Really?
 Dany's story was cool. I get the point that being a leader takes time, and bad decisions happen. Moving on.
 The first (fine, second) time she's claimed rightful justice, and she gets punished? By blindness? The hell?
 And where the f**k was he?
Speaking of f**kers...could you add some 'corruption of religion' into this thing? 'Cause I'm not sure I fully understand the point you're trying to make here.
Thank you.
Anyhoo...
 This guy was a mess. A victim of blind faith. 
Picard said it best: "There are times, sir, when men of good conscience cannot blindly follow orders." Funny thing - he stood up to the Red Bitch before...
...just not this time. 'Cause, why should he.
But when this guy learns the truth, OOOOOOOOOOOH S#!!!!!!!!!!!!!!T!
Going back to Dany's education, I'd watch Tyrion work with her until I died. I loved every scene they were in together.
Why is she still breathing? Is it so Arya can (eventually. I'm guessing Season Eleven?) cut her heart out with a spoon? Apparently so. And she'd be doing it blind...which might actually be worth sticking around for.
That story wasn't bad. He's accepting who he is, what he is, and his place in the world. I liked seeing Bronn again too.
That scene wasn't nearly as graphic as I expected, and the people of the North may remember, but could they remember to STFU? Nope.
I get his situation. And BRAVO for actually doing something...
...'cause that bitch had to go. In fact, that was the first time I cheered the entire f**king season.
F**K you kid. F**K you hard.
Yeah. I know the wildlings killed your parents. Your entire village. I get the beef you have with them. WITH THEM!!! Why didn't you go off and stab someone who truly deserved it, instead of blindly following moronic idiots in search of something actually useful to do?
This made me want to throw my remote into the television and heave the whole thing out the f**king window.
You know what's weird? I knew going into this that Jon is alive in Season 6. He's resurrected by the Red Bitch (in a nod to Arya's Tom Bombadil-like scene with the Brotherhood from Season Three). Didn't matter. I was furious anyway. Mrs. Adorkification wound up getting furious at me, but that goes along with how we each appreciate storytelling. 
As a kid, I always loved stories with happy endings. The guy gets the girl. The villain is gone. The quest is complete. As a grown-up, I understand how boring that can be. I get that "good" stories now have to end with lessons learned, changes confronted and prices paid. These are the tales my wife truly enjoys.
The difference is -  while she enjoys how the stories develop over time, I need to know how it ends first.
I can't just get wrapped up in a good story. Not anymore. I'm not talking about mystery novels where there's always a solution and an explanation for the crime, or episodes of Sherlock. Those have yet to frustrate me when I'm done. I mean stories like Game of Thrones, Stranger Things, Doctor Who and Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell. I need to know how they end in order to justify watching them. If I like how it ends, or the ending piques my curiosity, then I'm interested in watching the tale unfold. In witnessing the journey from there to here. Otherwise, I'm piqued by Google's second definition of the word (and I'm looking squarely at YOU Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.).
I'm exhausted now. Time for either decaf or a nap. Probably both.