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Hola 2010

Qwerty.

Wintery Texture

That’s as far as I got in the past 3+ months or so when attempting to post to this blog. Between, my new affliction with my iPhone’s camera, twitter, flickr, posterous, tumblr, facebook, oh and designing, developing and having a life. Time has let this one slip.

I look forward to continue posting here – wrongdude.com same name, new server (self hosted). Onward.

2009 was good. Met new peeps, started new projects and had a blast with the familia for sure, look forward to more adventures in the coming year.

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Day 141

Continued from a previous post. Day 141
It’s been over five months since Max was severely burned over his face and upper body – it continues to amaze me to see him heal so quickly. Granted, the advent of youth, proper medical attention, application of skin care products, and continued support by family, friends, and the community, has accelerated the healing process. Max is enjoying school (as much as a 10 year old boy can), his weekly stint on the snowboard, playing video games, and is progressing nicely on the piano. Leading life as though nothing had happened seems to be going rather well.

There are however occasions when we are reminded of the incident – obviously we think of what happened almost everyday as the scaring is a constant reminder – but on occasions when we run into friends, some of whom who are more like acquaintances, we find ourselves retelling the story, which brings back memories, glimpses of that day as it happened. The most disconcerting is running into mutual friends of Eric and having to retell the story as it truly happened (Eric was my friend who caused the explosion – an adult in his 40s – I mention this because people have asked, and in my prior posts there is little description of him).

The incident was by all means avoidable and not entirely accidental. The explosion was caused by him squirting high octane fuel used for model airplanes onto previously lit charcoal briquettes. He had kept this fuel in a clear plastic squirt bottle (similar to one you’d find on a picnic table – you know the ones filled with ketchup or mustard). I recall seeing that bottle earlier that evening (it was about one third of the way full) and asking him what it was for – he mentioned he was going to use it to light the BBQ fire. I immediately offered to run out and buy lighter fluid, for the thought of lighting a BBQ with that pink fuel in a plastic bottle seemed, well, idiotic – maybe something you would do as a teenager, but not at a BBQ, not as an adult, and especially not with kids running around.

He assured me, he had done this before and it was no big deal – I think of that moment in time, constantly.

It’s apparent that when we retell our story to those friends, they are under the impression it was an accident that could not have been avoided, not so. He was squirting high octane fuel, not lighter fluid, directly over briquettes which he attempted to light previously with no success. Model plane fuel is designed to burn fast and hot in a closed cell, not to light outdoor fires. Unfortunately Max was standing by, under adult supervision. Boom.

Max’s scars look really good for what happened. I realize it’s been a while since posting about this incident, but taking some time off from dwelling on what happened has really helped us all. We’ve talked with a counselor, and Max is doing good. The interesting thing is how it’s affected his sister – she saw it all happen, and now seems to dislike any sort of fire, specifically candles at dinner time. During this whole incident, she’s the one factor we’ve overlooked.

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FJ60

When we first moved to Bend we had a car. Then it became clear we also needed a 4×4 of some sort. Something to get us to the mountain, take us on trials, and the occasional trip to the coast with the kids and dogs. The FJ60 was perfect. Even though its appetite for fuel was rather voracious, it didn’t seem to matter much then. 10 MPG, whatever.
The thought of getting an FJ was planted years earlier in Dallas, when my buddy Mark had one. It was a cool blue FJ60. But it wasn’t until we moved to Oregon that I really saw a need for one, so the search for what would soon be our first 4×4 began.

After months of checking out FJ’s, one finally stood out – and it was for sale in Portland. It was exactly what I was looking for, and in great condition. I flew up, paid cash and was on my way – kinda. There were a few minor issues after I picked it up, but nothing that some extra time, a few helping hands, and some cash couldn’t fix.

We owned it for about five years or so – it was a great vehicle for sure. Many memories, but in the end it was just a mode of transportation – the price of gas was starting to creep up and the amenities of newer more fuel efficient modes of transport were appealing. But still, it would be cool to have one again some day – it was kinda fun getting out and locking the hubs to get into 4×4 mode.

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Let’s get together

“Let’s get together!” or even better “We need to get together!” – What does it mean?

Say you see someone you haven’t seen in sometime, this person could be an old friend, acquaintance, old neighbor, workmate, or parent of your kids friends – anyone really – someone you haven’t seen in a while. You see each other in passing, at the grocery store, targét, downtown, wherever – and it’s good to see them – really. But then comes that moment when you both have to go your separate ways and the phrase is uttered. That phrase – “We really need to get together.” the phrase is acknowledged and you part ways. What happens next?

Who calls whom? Who texts whom? Who emails whom? Is there proper etiquette for such an occurance. Is the gesture just that – a gesture? It’s implied that both parties are willing to get together for more than just a fleeting moment, but which party is responsible for actually following-up with the offer? Or is the relationship just good enough for one moment – a space in time reserved for a single serving (Fight Club).
At times, I’d like to think so. There’s nothing wrong with single servings. Single servings are great. Why ask for more. Hershey built an empire off of Kisses – single servings are alright. It’s an exercise in tolerance – no reason to subject yourself to more than you actually want, need, or desire. Single servings – right on.
So back to the proper procedure. Regardless of location – online or in line at the market, I believe that if you make the gesture to “get together sometime” it’s up to you to make the next move. And that move should be within reasonable time, otherwise it gets awkward the next time you see that person again – “Oh..um, yeah, good to see you again – we really need to get together – really”.

A phone call, email, text, anything would be a good follow-up. Not having the other persons number just doesn’t fly anymore these days. Excuses are out, and if either party does not follow up – is that a semi-serious (Very overused 90’s French phrase coming up)  “faux pas”? Probably not – but why even bother making the offer if you don’t mean it. A simple “Well – see ya later” is perfect.

I prefer the not so distant cousin of “Let’s get together”, ”Dude, let’s get a beer sometime”. That almost never fails. Beer is a fail safe – and if you make the offer, you’re buying the first round – single servings need not apply.

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The Big Five Oh

BombaLatteIt was only a mater of time. Not for me, but a friend. And to think she even remotely behaves or looks her age is obsurd. Good times tonight with a bunch of friends and thier families for a surprise party put on by her dear Dregg – as Ana fondly calls him. The only thing that would have made it better would have been a surprise visit from David Sedaris or Ellen – we tried, but they were booked. Happy Birthday Bomba Latte.

So our plans are to hit the mountain on her actual birthday day next week. Should be fun. The forecast: Clear blue sky, snowy mountain, warm clothes, and a freshly waxed board for the courd.

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Marley, Coco and us

CabamarleyWe cruised out to see Marley and me this afternoon with the kids – a cute movie that had us all in tears as we left the theater. The book was better.

I had read the book about two years ago after our first lab (his name was Marley) died at the age of 8 – before his time. He made his best attempt to eat either a pine cone or cob, which caused a severe blockage (the x-rays were inconclusive, but it looked like it could have been either). The chewing and consumption of non edible items is apparently a lab trait, one which we – at times – laughed at. He had eaten it in the evening. We found him laying by our door – barely alive the next morning. Coco was his older companion, our first family dog – his mom for all he knew. In the years past Marely’s demise, she began showing signs of age. Her hair grew coarser, her sight was failing, gray hairs dominated her muzzle and paws. Our frequent trips to the river and parks with her diminished as her enthusiasm for outdoor activities was lack luster. Towards the end she kept her self relegated to her room and to a strict path of – room to food – room to door – door to backyard – backyard to door – door to water – water to room.

CocoI can’t remember the last time she had barked, but her tail wagged till the day she passed. Both our labs were great companions – fun, loving, and inspiring. We miss them for sure.

Now we have a Basset Hound, Lucy. We got her on a trip to Portland sometime after Marley had past. We thought it was a good idea to have another dog in the house. Lucy’s puppy energy kept Coco on her paws, and we liked to believe it kept her going. It was cute to see them cuddle up together in the evenings although towards the end Lucy kept her distance, it was interesting to observe. Dogs know, I suppose.

We had to put Coco to sleep December 23. We’ll miss Coco – but I’m sure Marley’s excited to see his companion again.
Marley and Coco

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The days of photo albums

Photo AlbumAfter some celebratory tequila shots, we broke out the stacks of photo albums we’d collected before the days of iPhoto. We danced to the Rolling Stones  and reveled in the still new year. It was good to see my cousin Nicole for sure.

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Day 71

Continued from a previous post.
Holy smokes – it’s been a while since my last post on Max! Max is doing good!

This past Monday we made a quick trip to Portland to see his doctor who was pleased with his progress. We actually spent way more time on the road than in Portland, but managed to squeeze in a couple of Pizza Shmitza slices.

Max’s arm is by far the worst of all his burns – it itches him and looks kinda gnarly, but that’s what the doctor had predicted. We’re going to wait and see how that progresses to heal and revisit the chance of surgery in another 3 months or so. Max’s chest and most of his face seem to be healing rather well too, although the doctor did mention there were several spots that would most likely scar – leaving permanent marks.

Overall Max is feeling OK with what has happened, but I think he’s getting tired of us reminding him – on a daily basis – to keep on applying lotion, spf, and lip balm. He is now wearing a couple of silicone scar patches on the most severe areas to prevent them from ‘puffing’. They seem to be working well at reducing the scars thickness and keeping that area kinda stinky – since Max likes to keep them on until they start losing their stick.

Continued here.

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Day 46

Continued from a previous post.

It’s been fifty days since Max was in the accident and he continues to improve for sure. As our doctor had predicted, the open wound has closed and scar tissue has formed as his second skin. In about a week or so the scar will no longer need to be bandaged and in its place will go a self-adherent silicone bandage – this will help diminish the scars appearance.
His new skin (which was previously 2nd degree burns) is evident – whiter than his other skin, and more susceptible to sun damage, great care is being taken everyday to make sure he has SPF on his face and body.

Continued here.