Summary Judgments

A Great Dad for a Great School Board Director

2009-04-07T09:20:00.003-05:00

My husband, Michael Mathias is running for the 4^th District Seat on the Milwaukee Public Schools board. I’m writing today to share the endorsement Michael received from the Shepherd Express and share why Michael is the right choice for the children, families and the residents of the 4^th District.

I’m especially proud of the endorsement from the Shepherd. Throughout our many years in Milwaukee -- as we attended UWM, took our first jobs, painted that first nursery in our flat in Riverwest -- the Shepherd was always there, and it’s who we trusted to tell us what was really happening.

The endorsement in the Shepherd says: Mathias struck us as a smart advocate for the city’s public education system, and taxpayers will trust his judgment in the coming years. Mathias will be the kind of public servant that will make this district—and this city—proud. He deserves voters’ support on April 7.

I know Michael will make this district and city proud. He’s been making me proud for the last fifteen years. Ever since we found out I was pregnant with our first son, Michael has dedicated his life to our children. His aspiration to serve the 4^th district is driven from a desire to see all children in MPS succeed as our own children have.

When our sons started early childhood education programs at Highland Community School, Michael felt it was his duty to run for Highland’s governance board, and spent hours each week tackling the complex problems of a school in transition. At the end of Michael’s three-year term, Highland was a stronger, more stable school.

When our middle son needed special education services, Michael researched the options available and fought to have him placed in the autism program at Dover Street School, where our son found a school, principal and teacher that changed his life. Today our son is fully integrated back into a regular education program, and his success is due in no small part to Michael’s fierce love, determination, and devotion.

Lately, Saturday mornings find Michael up at dawn to drive our oldest son, a 7^th-grader at Milwaukee School of Languages, to forensics meets. And every night, even throughout this busy campaign, Michael’s at the dining room table helping our oldest boys with their homework.

Michael takes an extremely active role in our children’s education. He knows firsthand what’s working in MPS and what’s not. He knows how hard working our teachers and principals are, and he knows the challenges they face every day. He’s seen the devastating effect of over-crowded classrooms, and knows from personal experience what a difference programs like SAGE make for teachers and students. He knows exactly how the lack of art, music and gym programs impact student achievement.

Michael’s presence in MPS schools means he has the trust and respect of many teachers, principals and other MPS board members. Michael has used his campaign to reach out to existing board members, including board president Peter Blewett and director Michael Bonds. Michael’s experience and deep understanding of the issues means he will walk into that first board meeting ready to go to work. In addition, Michael will come to the board free of any agenda, completely independent and beholden only to the children, families, teachers and residents of the 4^th district.

Michael will make us proud. Please join me in voting for Michael on Tuesday, April 7^th. Thank you for your time and support.

Family Movie Review: March of the Penguins

2009-01-24T20:06:00.009-06:00

If you’ve read some of our other movie reviews, you know we don’t always use the best (or any) judgment when choosing films to watch with our children.

So when we found March of the Penguins available on Netflix instant viewing, we were thrilled -- what could be more family friendly?

Everything’s cool for the first fifteen minutes. Lovely footage, soothing narration provided by Mr. Morgan Freeman, and we’re learning some cool shit about penguins. It’s not the most exciting thing ever, but since I refuse to watch most children’s movies, it’s a good compromise.

The penguins gather at their wintering-over spot, copulate, and lay their eggs. But here’s the tricky part. After an egg is laid, the mama penguin has to transfer it to the papa penguin. Why? Because Mama’s got to high-tail it to the ocean, catch and eat a bunch of fish, rush back to the flock and regurgitate the food for her newborn chick.

I wish I could do that.

At this point we're thinking that maybe we're actually capable of choosing a kid-appropriate movie. It's heartwarming, educational, and the kids think the whole regurgitation thing is very gnarly and cool.

Ah, but it’s during this egg transfer process that things start to go south. It seems that if the penguins don’t get the transfer exactly right, the egg rolls off into the snow and can’t be recovered. Why? I’m not really sure – I’m guessing it has something to do with their tiny brains and lack of opposable thumbs -- but the upshot is frozen penguin embryo omelet.

So the sad music starts and soon the screen is littered with abandoned, off-color penguin eggs. “Eggs that will never hatch.”

Our middle son, who is very sweet, very sensitive, and who loves all animals (baby animals in particular) starts to understand what’s going on here.

Here’s a ‘lil snippet of the resulting conversation:

Miles: “What’s wrong with that egg? Why isn’t it with a daddy penguin?”

Me: “Uh, well, there was a problem, and the daddy can’t get the egg back on his feet.”

Miles: “So another penguin is going to get the egg?”

Me: (Looking toward Michael, who’s avoiding eye contact) “Well, no, that egg isn’t going to hatch now.”

Miles: (Incredulously) “You mean the baby in the egg is DEAD!?”

Me: “Yes, it’s very sad, but not all the eggs hatch.”

Miles: (Recovering quickly) “But that’s ok, because that penguin will just lay another egg.”

Me: “Yes, she can, next year.”

Miles: “That’s not fair! Why can’t she just have another egg this year? Does she know her baby died? Does she know that she can’t have another egg until next year? Why can’t she just have another one? It’s not fair!”

I pleadingly look at Michael, who shrugs and stuffs a handful of popcorn in his mouth. Bastard.

Me: (Grasping) “Animals don’t experience things like death the same way people do. She probably knows something is wrong, but can’t really understand what it means. It’s not the same as a human mom.”

Miles: (Starting to cry.)“How do you know? You don’t know that. What if she does know? What if it is the same?”

Me: (Glaring at Michael, whose only contribution is to lamely mutter something about the ‘great circle of life’) “Miles, honey, we’re just gonna have to see what happens. I’m sure most of the eggs hatch just fine.”

And then Morgan Freeman said, “But the worst is still to come.”

FUCK. ME.

The next hour was pretty much a non-stop festival of penguin death. On…and on…and on it went. Storms separate baby penguins from the flock and they freeze to death. Babies starve to death before mothers can make it back with food. Mother penguins die from exhaustion or starvation and then their babies die from starvation. Evil seagulls attack and kill baby penguins (in slow-mo, no less). Christ, it was a fucking blood-bath.

At this point, Miles was curled up in my lap, his tears silently dropping onto my chest. Once in a while he would sniff and ask for another Kleenex.

I did ask him if he wanted to turn the movie off, but he thought it would be better if he “found out what happened to all of the baby penguins and the moms.” Ugh. This was not encouraging. At this point, things were looking seriously fucked for those baby penguins, and not much better for the fully grown birds.

And then there was the seal. The mother-fucking seal.

Seals are the playful clowns of the sea, right? Oh no. In March of the Penguins, seals are vicious, bloodthirsty and have a rack of teeth as terrifying as any Great White shark.

Of course, the seal takes a mama penguin down. And if we all weren’t feeling bad enough, Mr. Freeman chimes in to remind us that the seal is responsible for two deaths, since her baby will now starve. Thanks for pointing that out, Morgan.

Our youngest son had pretty much lost interest at this point, and we assumed he was just a little too young to really grasp the totality of the carnage. That's until he started wandering into the room from time to time to ask helpful questions like, “Did all the baby penguins die yet?” or “Is that one dead too?”

After the seal incident, Miles decided he’d had enough, so I can’t really tell you how the movie ended. I assume at least one penguin made it through the winter and back to the ocean, perhaps to become a tasty snack for chompy the seal.

So, in summary, if you want an evening filled with death, weeping and the fucking circle of life, check out March of the Penguins with your kids!

Foodstuff Review: The Trader Redeems Itself

2009-01-22T21:50:00.006-06:00

It's true I don’t like everything at Trader Joe’s. It’s true that not everyone agrees with my reviews. Case in point, these two gentlemen took offense at my assessment of Trader’s Korean-style short ribs.

Joe T said...

"Short Ribs are suppose to be thin. Stupid. And you cooked them to be burnt. Idiot. The fat is around the bone which there is not a lot of. Either A) you hate meat or B) God made you with a bad sense of judgment."

jason said...

"i agree with the comment above. these are great short ribs. cook on the highest part of your grill (open lid) for 2 mins each side and they are perfect. fat and all!
to quote the guy above....learn to cook before you post these comment....stupid!"

Uh, let's settle down ee cummings, it’s just a piece of meat. I don’t care for the ribs, so you best learn to live with it. I don't have to like the ribs, I can write about how I don't like the ribs, and you're free to shove burnt fat and marrow in your gob until the cows come home. God Bless America.

I will point out that most readers agreed with my assessment of the Trader's four-cheese pizza. There just isn't a lot of wiggle room. This pizza is so terrible, even kids reject it. That’s pretty fucking bad.

And let's not even talk about the light Mayonnaise, except to say that any product that can render bacon inedible must be the work of Satan himself.

But I’m a forgiving person (or maybe just stupid – just ask Joe T or Jason, above), so I’ll give most things a second chance.

That's why, when my lovely sister-in-law presented me with Trader Joe’s Candy Cane Joe-Joe’s cookies, I proceeded with an open mind and stomach.

God Damn! These cookies rock the fucking house.

Envision a perfect, fresh, double-stuffed Oreo. BUT, between the chocolate wafers, blended into the creamy filling, is a generous measure of crisp, cool, crumbly shards of peppermint candy cane. Enough said.

Sit back, pour yourself a glass of 1%, and you've reached cookie nirvana.

And it gets even better. Unbelievably, the greedy little brats (Uh, I mean, the blessed fruit of our loin. Wait? Is it loin, or loins? Do you have one or two loins?) DIDN'T LIKE the peppermint Joe-Joe’s.

Let me break it down:

Delicious cookie + children who don’t appreciate said delicious cookie = Christmas fucking miracle!

I’d say you’re forgiven, Trader Joe's.

Product (Apparel) Review: Land's End Men's Barn Jacket

2009-01-22T17:00:00.001-06:00

(This is an old post, but I think it bears repeating and I really have to write some new stuff. Enjoy.)

A long time ago (pre-nuptials, I believe) I borrowed and lost a beloved jacket of Michael’s. It involved a lakefront festival and much too much fermented beverage.

I felt bad.

In time, I replaced it with a Land’s End Barn Jacket. To say Michael liked this coat is a gross understatement. He wore it in any weather. Wind chills could be hovering near 30 below and he’d claim the barn jacket was sufficient to keep him toasty warm. He wore it everywhere -- weddings, fancy dinners, job interviews.

I once had to prevent him from wearing it to a funeral over a perfectly nice dark suit.

Of course, even the most well-made garment must at some point succumb to this amount of wear. One day, Michael caught a side pocket in a doorknob and ripped a large hole around the pocket seam.

I offered to repair or replace the jacket, but Michael resisted. He continued to wear the coat, claiming “no one can even see that little rip.” After repeated pleas that he stop wearing the coat, he maintained the position that the tear was minor and practically unnoticeable. I tried begging, bribing and hiding the coat. Yet each morning, there it was, the ”practically unnoticeable” rip staring me in the face.

One day, as Michael was walking home from work, he attracted the attention of a group of young men, possibly students from the Milwaukee High School of the Arts. In a fit a high spirits, these men attempted to get Michael’s attention:

“Yo, bitch!”

“BITCH!”

“Hey, BITCH!”

When Michael smartly attempted to ignore these gentlemen, they decided to up their game a bit.

(At this point, please remember the boys were across the street from Michael.)

“YO, ‘OL RIP-ASS COAT BITCH!”

Yep, that tear was “barely noticeable,” isn’t that right, ‘ol rip-ass coat bitch?

I have to admit, when Michael relayed the story to me, I was not a good spouse. Instead of consoling him about the harassment, I fell to the floor and laughed uncontrollably for twenty minutes. I stood up, attempted to pull myself together and offer support, but then noticed Michael was still wearing the coat. I once again fell in a fit of hysterical laughter. This happened on and off for the next week or so. I'm giggling right now just writing about it.

But the next day, I went out and bought 'ol rip-ass coat bitch a new barn jacket.

So, if you want to avoid harassment from teens and ridicule from your spouse, a new, unblemished Land's End Men's Barn Jacket is a great item to include in your outerwear wardrobe.

Hope.

2008-11-04T12:35:00.002-06:00

Walnuts Made It! Blogging the First Presidential Debate

2008-09-26T22:38:00.007-05:00

We're watching tonight's debate on our new digital TV thingy, and it's totally going to kick-ass. Those navy blue suits and muted, understated ties are going to POP in digital!

Wow, look at that giant angry eagle. He’s going to peck out the eyes of anyone who doesn’t love America.

Why is Jim Lehrer yelling at us? Someone fix his mic, please.

Ah, that was tricky – “The global financial crisis.” Nicely done.

Wow, Jim’s kinda being an asshole – why even have an audience if they can’t make any noise?

Obama is thinking, “Glad to see you actually showed up, prune-face!”

They even turned off the lights on the audience. That’s cold.

Jim’s not really on his A game tonight, is he?

What kinds of pin does ‘Bama have on? It better be a fucking flag or the eagle is going to come for him.

Wow, right into the issues and policy, 'Bama, nice going.

Yeah baby, McCain LOVES Bush – keep it coming -- pin it ALL on Bush/McCain.

Oh Christ. First of all, Walnuts, Kennedy’s office released a statement saying he’s probably home by now, watching the debate.

Every republican watching this immediately and instinctively went into a rant about Chappaquiddick as soon as they heard him say the words “Senator Kennedy.” They just can’t help themselves.

My friends, I haven’t been feeling too great about the economy, but hey, I have like 29 houses and 309 cars, so I’ll probably be ok! Don’t you worry about me, friend. Cindy and I will somehow make it through.

What the hell did McCain just do? He just winked at us like a pirate and pointed out the fact that he’s like 300 years old. Poor.

Walnuts doesn’t have a flag pin…for shame! That eagle is gonna swoop down and punish him.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! We’re all going to be poor and then we’re going to die! It seems like he’s telling us to panic…and make a run on the banks for our money. Another bank is going to fail tonight thanks to his alarmist statements.

Funny, I thought the economy was “fundamentally sound?”

Talk to each other? Right, go ahead guys. “Hey, John, how’s it going? Uh, WTF were you thinking about Palin, man?”

Obama is that brilliant but scary professor who drills holes in your skull with his eyes when you’re explaining why you didn’t turn in your paper, and McCain is that boring and crabby uncle you’re trying to avoid sitting next to at Thanksgiving dinner.

How does the landing at Normandy relate to the credit crisis? What IS McCain babbling about?

Every time you hear “Main Street and Wall Street,” take a drink.

Awkward. The last thing these guys want to do is talk to each other. McCain won’t even LOOK at Obama. Let’s drop this whole “talk to each other” thing, ok, Jim?

Have we ever talked about McCain's GIANT head? With the jowls, it’s like one-third the total length of his body.

So, are the best days are ahead of us, or all we all supposed to panic, or are we all just irresponsible twits that aren’t qualified to wipe the asses of the greatest generation?

Oh, god, this election’s compulsory example of stupid government spending. This time it’s bear DNA. What was it last election? Something about sheep?

Wow, John McCain has a pen. A PEN. He also has 246 cars.

I thought this was supposed to be about foreign policy? Not so much, I guess.

I wish I collected a paycheck every day. That would be sweet. I think he meant folks who WORK every day. Which sucks.

‘Bama looks like he’s going to beat down Walnuts. Maybe he’ll gang up with the angry eagle.

Ok, we’re 15 minutes in and McCain hasn’t mentioned that he was a POW or his “service to this county.” That’s gotta be a record.

Oooohh, Obama’s getting fired up now. Let’s go! Because otherwise, I’m falling asleep.

Ok, we’re 19 minutes in, they’ve FINALLY mentioned a foreign power, and it’s IRELAND. Wow, this is some fascinating policy discussion.

MY FRIENDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He said it – take a drink.

‘Bama is really doing a huge laundry list here with no detail. I don’t think this is a good idea – all of these things sound really expensive. Keeping up with those wily Chinese space walkers – that can’t be cheap.

Yeah, I’d be laughing at Walnuts and his giant head, too. I am so tired of Republicans using the word liberal like a profanity.

The “little combat ship?” Yeah, that sounds like a GREAT program. What the fuck is the little combat ship?

Uh…what about ENDING THE FUCKING WAR to save some money?!

Spending freeze? Did he just make that up? His campaign staff is backstage spitting out their diet Dokes. “Holy shit! What did he just say – spending freeze?! Johnson, did he tell you about this?”

And by “make decisions on their own” for healthcare, what I really mean is that families should “pay for it on their own.”

UH…aren’t YOU a veteran, John? So, by “taking care of our veterans,” I think we all know who you’re thinking about …taking care of NUMBER ONE! Busted.

Why is everyone so down on how much we owe China? “China still cool…you pay later! Later!”

This is the second time McCain’s reminded us that he wasn’t elected Miss Congeniality. I think he’s still bitter. Poor guy.

Did we miss the Senate beauty pageant this year? I love the swimsuit competition.

This is the most boring debate I think I’ve even seen in my entire life.

McCain just took responsibility for the rise of the Taliban. Way to go, buddy!

Sometimes you just have to do stuff, and you just have to do it, even if it’s unpopular. Now, where have we heard this before? Yikes, that’s scary. “…and if I have to nuke the entire southern hemisphere, I’ll do it. AND I’ll use the little combat ship.”

Middle America isn’t going to like ‘Bama’s pronunciation of Pakistan with the long a’s. Too snooty.

I’m SO glad he mentioned McCain’s fucking “Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb bomb Iran” song. Not only was it in poor taste, it was so cringe-worthy.

Now McCain has adopted Obama’s Pakistan pronunciation.

The ubiquitous Reagan reference. When can we stop hearing about THAT guy?

Was John McCain in the military? I did not know that.

The one thing Obama has done tonight is eliminated the experience question…there’s no way anyone could watch this and think Obama isn’t ready or doesn’t have the experience to lead. He’s hanging right in there.

Christ, there’s another HOUR of this? Oh, just half an hour. Thank god.

Iran is an “existential” threat to Israel? Is Jean-Paul Sartre running for president now? What the fuck does that mean? Iran is going to catapult used philosophy textbooks into Tel Aviv?

Wow, this whole Iran nuclear threat thing sounds SO familiar…hum, I wonder where we’ve heard this before… “It’s a real threat, there’s no question that they’re developing these weapons, etc., etc.”

Ok, I’m done blogging now. Want to take over, ol rip-ass coat bitch?

No. I’m falling asleep.

Wouldn’t it be cool if the angry eagle was automated and helped Jim moderate?

“Let’s stay on topic now, Senator McCain. Caw! Caw!”

“Time is up, Senator Obama -- yield to Mr. McCain. Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! We must move on, now, really. Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Have you really looked at this beak, Senator? Your time is up.”

BOOM baby – 'Bama smacks down McCain down on Kissinger. That guy always comes back to haunt you.

This thing where McCain starts each response by pointing out Obama’s “naiveté” just isn’t ringing true. Obama is more than holding his own here.

Yay! Let’s talk about Russia.

“I went to Russia once. And Sarah Palin saw me there--from her house. And I saw her too. And she waved at me and I waved back and I said “Hi Sarah”, and she said “Hi!” I saw Levi, too. He was hanging in the rec room playing on the Wii. He’s a fine young man who is taking responsibility for his demon seed. God bless that fine family. Anyway, Senator Obama is revealing his naiveté when he talks about Russia.”

McCain saw “K-G-B” in Putin’s eyes? That must have been freaky.

Nunn-Lugar – most Americans think that’s a light pilsner from the Netherlands.

“American blood and treasure”? What treasure? Can I have some treasure?

Obama needs to turn to McCain and tell him to stop telling lies. Stop pretending that Obama said he wants to be defeated in Iraq. What Obama said is that we’ve neglected legitimate threats because of the single-minded focus and spending on Iraq, and people know this – again, McCain isn’t ringing true.

I can’t WAIT for the veep debate. I has to be more exciting than this snooze fest. At the very least it’s at least going to be entertaining watching Palin squirm and find novel ways to stall for time.

Ugh. Cindy McCain. That woman is scary beyond belief. Doesn’t matter how many Nancy Regan suits and ropes of pearls you put on that woman, she’s still going to scare people.

Wouldn't it be sweet if Walnuts and Cindy did a terrorist fist-bump right now?

So, who won? I say tie, but I’ll give Obama the edge because he did what he needed to do. He totally held his own against McCain, proved that he’s experienced, informed and “presidential.” McCain didn’t do anything wrong, but he also didn’t really gain any ground.

I say tie, too, I guess. Obama needs to warm things up a bit, and get a little more personal, but he did well -- definitely held his own, and then some. McCain did ok, too, for a total fucking wanker – better than he usually does. Although I think he seemed overly cold and unpleasant toward Obama, and folks might not like that.

I hate to say it, but Jim Lehrer was terrible tonight. I can’t wait to see Gwen Ifill go after Sarah Palin. I don’t know when I’ve ever been so excited about a debate. Sarah Palin is my Dan Quayle.

I say the real winner tonight was ANGRY EAGLE.

Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Ol’ Rip-Ass Coat Bitch (ORACB) and his wife share some Golden Olympic Moments

2008-08-12T22:52:00.002-05:00

Anne: First of all, I want to point out that these Golden Olympic Moments are not brought to you by Chevy.

ORACB: Unless…Chevy, any time you want a piece of this action, just give us a call.

ORACB: “For this American team, it must be a little like waiting for Godot.” Ok, that’s my favorite comment so far. For sure.

Anne: Uh, what the fuck does that mean?

ORACB: Wow, who designed the women’s gymnastics uniforms?

Anne: I know. It’s like someone said, “Make me the ugliest leotards possible – I want shiny, bunchy unflattering material. Make it look like cheap Christmas wrap. Next, add random squiggles, sequins and rick-rack. Bottom line, I want something that can make even an 87 pound gymnast look chunky. Do it NOW!”

Anne: There’s a WEST Des Moines?

Anne: What was that 16.9 score for?

ORACB: Uhh, those two bars? Those two barry-things?

Anne: They’re called UNEVEN bars, Michael.

ORACB/Michael: Ok, those Chinese girls DO look like they’re eight. It might not just be American whining.

ORACB/Michael: Oh my god, look at Bella Lugosi. He’s going to rip Bob Costa’s head off.

Anne: Jesus, Michael, it’s not Bella Lugosi, it’s Bella Kolrolli or something like that.

Michael (I’m tired of typing ORACB): That girl might be seven.

Anne: I don’t know. Maybe all of the glitter and blue eye shadow is a wild attempt to make them look older. Seriously, someone couldn’t help them with that a bit?

NOTE: We just got our digital converter box, so tonight’s Olympic events are the inaugural run.

Michael: Can you tell any difference in the picture? I can’t tell any difference.

Anne: I think it looks good. Mostly I’m excited about all those PBS weather channels. I can’t think of anything better to sleep to – random NOAA maps with jazz or classical. Kiss your Advil PM goodbye!

Michael: Wouldn’t that be crazy if the third guy on this swimming relay would totally fuck it up?

Anne: “He’s sunk to the bottom of the pool! It’s like he’s completely forgotten how to swim!”

Anne: This is a really boring race – it’s not even close. It’s like watching the Cornhuskers play Ball State or something back in the good old days.

Michael: You know what I want to see? Just once I want to see them focus on the people who finish dead fucking last.

Michael: Russian Federation, fresh off their domination of the Georgians, coming in second.

Michael: I guess that Mark Spitz is kinda throwing a fit about not being invited and flown to the Olympics. Uh, dude why don’t you buy your own tickets to the Olympics?

Micahel: She’s six, right?

Anne: You’re just going to have to let it go, Michael.

Anne: Jesus Christ, I’m getting sick of these fucking smug-ass commentators – especially the guy with the higher-pitched voice. So, these are “really, just silly mistakes”? What the fuck does this guy look like, anyway? I’d like to see him up on the balance beam. In fact, I’d like to see him do one of those flips and land right on his nuts.

Michael: Attacking the beam – I wish that were literal. That would be something to see. ARRHGHHHH!

Michael: OHHHHH! Well, I guess she didn’t attack the beam that time.

Anne: You just yelled “OHHHHHH!” like one of the commentators would. I think someone has Olympic fever.

Michael: So, what are the other girls saying to her? “It’s ok, you just crushed all of our dreams, but that’s ok. Let’s still be friends.”

Michael: Let’s face it, if any of us, or them, would try to jump on that thing and get on a balance beam, we would bounce in the opposite direction, fall, break a bone and lie there screaming ARGH! ARGH! ARGH!”

Michael: “The balance beam comes back to bite again.” Maybe that’s my favorite comment, if just for the alliteration.

Anne: Ok, I’m about done. Can we turn the PBS weather channel on now?

2008 Beijing Olympics Review: Does this visor make me look younger?

2008-08-09T20:44:00.002-05:00

Hey, where’s Laura? Probably got stuck on some cultural tour. Meanwhile…

“We told President Bush to stop by -- we’d just be here sitting around in our bikinis -- but we never thought he’d actually show up!”

2008 Beijing Olympics Review: “You just don’t take steps on your pommel horse dismount.”

2008-08-09T20:12:00.006-05:00

If your family is like ours, you watch the Olympics less for the athletic events and more to mock the commentators, cheesy athlete profiles and leave-nothing-to-the imagination uniforms.

2008 promises not to disappoint from a mockability standpoint, although the opening ceremony was a little too classy for my taste.

But really, what opening ceremony can ever compete with the powerfully regal display from the Atlanta games, especially the “Traditions of the South” portion of the show. Remember the cheerleaders-in-the-back-of-pickup-trucks routine? What a great opportunity to show the world all that which makes our country great, like, underage floozies getting knocked up by rural meatheads in gas-guzzling 4x4s.

I know I had goose bumps.

Anyway, I’ve only been watching for about an hour, but I’ve already heard all of these old Olympic standbys:

“Tonight’s gold metal spotlight – brought to you by CHEVY!”

“Not at the Olympics.”

“You just don’t DO that at the Olympics!”

“ARRRGGGHHH!”

“Nailed it!”

“He just needs to get through it cleanly.”

And my favorite so far: “You just don’t take steps on your pommel horse dismount.”

We’ll try to post some of our favorite 2008 Olympic highlights.

In the meantime, if you’re having a hard time discerning the US athletes, check the hair. On men, if you see spikes in the font and much hair gel, it’s likely he’s a part of team USA. On women, look for chunky blond highlights.

Aldi’s Recipe Review: Beef Ragout

2008-04-01T20:41:00.004-05:00

Ok, it really was beef stew, but ragout sounds a lot fancier.

It appears that Aldi’s fresh meat is “treated” or “injected” with some sort of “flavor-enhancing solution” that has lots of di-meth and di-ex and other chemicals that start with the prefix “di.” I’m very unhappy about this, since it means I’m unlikely to buy any more fresh meat at Aldi – and that really sucks because it is so fucking cheap.

I didn’t notice this unhappy meat situation in the store because I was so over-stimulated by my first Aldi’s experience. I’m easily over-stimulated in retail settings – my friend Gina once took me to Linens ‘N Things. That was five years ago. She has never shopped with me again. I mean it. She won’t enter a convenience store with me.

Anyway, despite my extreme displeasure about this jacked-up meat, I’d be more displeased to let food go to waste, so we decided to go ahead and eat the meat we purchased.

Here are the ingredients we used.

Adli “All Hopped Up On Goofballs” beef stew meat, about one pound. (This was like $2. Seriously. So sad.)
3 T butter, courtesy of our friends at Roundy's.
2 T Aldi “Carlini” Extra Virgin Olive Oil – I’ve had better olive oil, but if you’re cooking with it (as opposed to using it on salad or something) who gives a shit? “Carlini” olive oil is a blend and comes by way of the Spanish, Italians, and those wacky Greeks.
Four large Aldi russet potatoes, sliced. It’s a fine potato. I can’t think of anything funny to say about potatoes.
Four whole Aldi "Freshire Farms" carrots – not those bullshit ground-down “baby” carrots, either. Four macho carrots, sliced into coins.
One package Aldi mushrooms, sliced (I thought these looked better than Pick N Save mushrooms).
Three cloves garlic, minced.
No onions. In case you don’t know, our 13-year marriage is grounded on a solid foundation of onion hatred. You will never see an onion-related review on Summary Judgments.
1/4 to 1/3 C Aldi “Morning Gold” baking mix – a Bisquick equivalent.
Approximately 2/3 C of red wine – from our refrigerator. It’s been there since New Year’s Eve. Maybe Thanksgiving.
Two 8 oz cans Aldi "Chef's Cupboard" beef broth.
1/4 t Mace, from our pantry. Mace is a seriously underutilized spice. It is named after a medieval weapon after all, but it’s actually very nice in soups, stews, and egg dishes.
1/4 t Allspice, also from our pantry. Clearly, Allspice has a brand manager. “Hey, which spice should we use? Well, looky here, it’s ALL-spice! That should do the trick!”
Kosher salt
Fresh ground pepper
Chopped parsley and paprika. Parsley and paprika make anything look better, particularly if your dish is suffering from pastiness or grayness.

I doubt anyone reading this is using it as an actual recipe, but if you want to know how to make it:

Brown the meat, mushrooms, and garlic in the butter and oil until browned and a bit crusty. (That crusty stuff on the bottom of the pan is called fond and it’s an excellent word to use in Scrabble because another player will almost always challenge it -- and nothing is better than a kicking a smug challenger’s ass when playing Scrabble.)
Add the flour and stir until smooth.
Add the wine and broth, stir until flour is fully integrated (no lumps).
Toss the rest of the shit in – simmer for an hour or so.
“Adjust the seasoning” as they say so often in my 1965 edition of The Joy of Cooking. (This edition also tells you how to dress and cook muskrat, raccoon, and bear meat. Just let me know if you want me to scan the recipes for you.)
Top with parsley and paprika.

Overall, the stew, er, ragout, was delish. The meat was tender, but how could it not be, as “injected” and “flavor-enhanced” as it was? I couldn’t really determine any difference in taste compared to untreated meat, but it’s the thought that counts. Overall, this recipe was as good as the something made with ingredients from swankier stores – you know, stores with bags and non-deposit carts, and without the underpants and jogging shorts for sale.

So in summary: Hopped up meat = serious bummer; all other Aldi products = cheap and serviceable; kick some Scrabble ass with fond; and let’s all try to show Mace a little more love.

BREAKING ALDI’S NEWS: TANDIL LAUNDRY DETERGENT

2008-03-30T17:30:00.004-05:00

We’ve just discovered that “Tandil” is the name of a city in Argentina (we thought it was maybe Spanish for “requires two wash cycles.”) Yet, Tandil laundry detergent is a GERMAN brand. Didn’t all the escaped Nazi’s seek refuge in Argentina?

COINCIDENCE? I think not!

Consumer Experience Review: “You fat cats didn’t finish your plankton!”

2008-03-30T16:57:00.007-05:00

GOD DAMN! Between gas and grocery prices, we are officially on a budget!

As I’ve said before, desperate times call for desperate measures -- in a word, Aldi.

Due to circumstances that would take way, way, WAY too long to explain, both Michael and I have prepared Aldi’s food, but have never been to an Aldi’s store before today.

So, for all you Aldi’s virgins out there, first things first:

1)You need to “rent” your grocery cart for a quarter. If you return your cart, you get your quarter back. In some amazing understanding of inner-city microeconomics, Aldi’s figured out that a person looking to steal a grocery cart places higher value on their quarter than on the cart they wish to steal. Maybe those “Freakonomics” guys should look into this phenomenon.

2) Aldi’s does not accept checks or credit cards. They do accept debit cards and, of course, cash.

3) The cashier puts your groceries straight into an empty cart – no bags. If you want to take your groceries home in a bag, you have to buy it – there is a really heavy plastic bag with sturdy handles for .99 cents, and standard plastic grocery bags (but don’t buy these, they always end up in the trees on our block) and paper bags for .10 cents. There are boxes sitting around, but those are a hot commodity and you may have to fight a fellow shopper for one.

And just an FYI, you can buy underpants at Aldi’s. Also wheelbarrows and raspberry bushes. And jogging shorts.

Aldi’s is not the place to look for healthy or low-fat foods. Aldi’s does have a “Fit N Active” line of “health-conscious” products, but it is limited, predominately mango-flavored and weird. Overall, most of their foods are chock full of hydrogenated oils and high fructose corn syrup. No wonder their fig bars taste so fucking good.

Another thing -- you need to be a little scrappy to shop at Aldi’s -- this is not your typical Pick N Save crowd. I had to protect our place in line from a guy loaded up with Aldi’s brand energy drinks (I think it’s called “Red Thunder” or "Wild Thunder") and something called “GT Cola.” Despite this line-cutter's caffeine high, I managed to hold my own, thank you very much.

Bargains did abound. We bought a full week’s worth of groceries, plus some extras, for $143. We probably would have spent at least $200 on the same items at Pick N Save. For example, a gallon of skim milk is a dollar cheaper per gallon vs. PNS.

We bought little processed or prepared food – and tried to stick with meat, breads, vegetables and dairy products. The $143 also included household goods such as a large jug of laundry detergent (Tandil brand; “New Improved Fragrance!”) hand-soap refill, toilet paper and paper cups and plates.

Here's a 'lil sampler of what we purchased at Aldi:
But wait, you say – what if this stuff tastes horrible, or has cutworms in it (true story), or doesn’t work well -- then it’s not so much of a bargain, now, is it?

This is where we’re taking one for the team – we’re going to use all of our Aldi products over the next week and report back to you, the consumer, on the good, the bad, and the possibly infectious.

You’re welcome.

Stupid Review Review: The Mission

2008-03-29T21:20:00.002-05:00

My eldest son and I recently watched “The Mission” on Netflix instant viewing. It’s a fine movie; beautiful cinematography, great music and solid performances by young DeNiro, Irons and Nesson in non-type roles.

Most movie critics and Netflix viewers rated this movie in the 4 to 5 star range, and almost everyone I know likes the film.

That’s why I was so surprised to see a one-star rating amongst the rave reviews.

I was intrigued – maybe the reviewer felt the script romanticized colonization and proselytization? Were there gross historical inaccuracies? Did she feel DeNiro’s performance was a bit wooden?

Nope. It was boobies.

Here’s the actual review:

Does not deserve a PG rating! It deserves an R rating for nudity. For those of you with children or actually do not want to see nudity then DO NOT WATCH THIS FILM

1 out of 38 people found this review helpful. (Uh, yeah.)

There are reasons to think twice before showing this movie to young children – there is violence, slavery, fratricide, talk of infanticide and some pretty intense scenes. Notice no mention of those issues in this review. Nope. This genius was offended by breasts and buttocks shown exclusively in the context of traditional indigenous dress. Or as Michael put it, National Geographic grade nudity.

People like this are the reason why the bloodiest, most gory torture-porn movies get by with an R (or even PG-13) rating, yet anything with extensive sexual themes or nudity gets the box-office killing NC-17.

Don’t believe me? Check out this documentary about the MPAA and how films are rated.

Comment Review: Do I Live In The Hood?

2008-03-29T12:44:00.007-05:00

An alarmed, and anonymous, reader (see below, in red) is concerned about my foul mouth and the way I was raise (sic). I can assure the gentle reader that my parents spent much time and effort raising me to the highest standards of civilized society.

In other words, leave my mom and dad out of it, asshole.

And, by the way, I do live in the hood -- proud of it. What’s your point?

In summary, if you are offended by profanity, take yourself too seriously or are under eighteen years of age, don’t come ‘round here no more.

Anonymous has left a new comment on your post Roundy's Review Roundup!:

Roundy's bar soap is great for washing out the foul mouths of gutter speak adults. Do you live in the hood? Is this the way you were raise to speak (write)?

UPDATE: My mother-in-law thinks I'm ok, too (see comments). She's enormously sophisticated, and she lives in the hood.

Desperate times call for desperate "gutter speak." Really, how could anyone possibly discuss W., the war or our current economic state without letting the explicatives fly? (Although I admit I'm a peacetime profaner as well.)

In a bar-soap-in-the-mouth-related note, our youngest son once took a bite out of a bar of Burt's Bees soap, thinking it was chocolate (it does look very much like a candy bar). He's just starting to trust the cocoa bean again.

Roundy's Review Roundup!

2008-03-19T16:21:00.004-05:00

HOLY SHIT!

Have you seen the price of groceries these days?

In these uncertain economic times (Wait, I mean “Robust Economy,” isn’t that right, George W. Bush? Wow, what we will do when that motherfucking genius isn't around?), you might cast an eye toward those store brands. I know, it’s a risky proposition. Is generic ring bologna really going to meet your family’s high, high standards? Will they judge you harshly if you bring home some no-name Thousand Island dressing?

Here at Summary Judgments, we always have the public’s good in mind, so we’ve compiled a review of Roundy’s store brand products.

For those of you outside of the Wisconsin/Illinois area, the Roundy’s corporation owns the Pick N Save, Copps and Rainbow chains of grocery stores.

A few overall notes:

1) First of all, the “Chairman Bob Approved” campaign? (Bob Mariano is the Chairman of the Roundy’s corporation.) Might need some re-tooling. The primary in-store feature of this campaign are little “thumbs-up” cardboard cut-outs that stick out from the shelves, alerting you to featured Roundy’s brand products.

Cute, right?

It took us about 2.4 seconds to realize that the thumbs could be easily flipped over, thus creating the unintentional “Thumbs down from Chairman Bob” campaign and scaring shoppers away from that reasonably-priced can of jumbo pitted olives.

And trust me, we weren’t the only ones flipping the thumbs, not by a long shot. It’s pretty much the primary form of entertainment at the 16th and National Pick N Save. Well, it’s a close second behind loudly airing your marital grievances via cell phone.

2) I realize it’s probably some family legacy thing, but I think the products might go down easier with a more appealing name. Roundy’s. Meh. It’s not exactly unappetizing, but it’s not doing anything to draw me in, either.

Aldi’s does it right when it comes to store-brand names. In the market for some generic canned veggies? Why, look, it’s “Happy Harvest” brand! Need an industrial size bag of noodles? Well you’re in luck sir, for you’re about to purchase “Chef’s Choice” dried elbow macaroni. Ooooooo, fancy. Better hurry before the chef’s snatch it up!

(Please note. Summary Judgments does not recommend Aldi’s products, particularly “Happy Harvest” canned goods. If you really want to know why, send me an email.)

3) The design values on the Roundy’s packaging is poor. Weak fonts, muddy colors – the overall design just screams, “I am so fucking cheap.” Could the good folks in the Roundy’s creative department step it up a little? We’re already shopping generic – give us just a little bit of our dignity back.

Despite their creative flaws, I would wholeheartedly recommend most Roundy’s, Roundy’s Select or Roundy’s Organics products…

But, let’s face it; it’s hard to fuck up applesauce.

Most of the Roundy’s stuff is of the processed, smashed, blended or otherwise smooshed variety. How can you assess the true quality of ingredients rendered into a liquid, paste, spread or sauce?

Know what I’d be impressed with? Roundy’s brand Filet Mignon. Roundy’s Select brand Beluga caviar. Roundy’s Organics stripped sea bass on sautéed jicama matchsticks.

Ok, moving on. Here are the ratings for some specific Roundy’s brand products:

Roundy’s Organics Pure Maple Syrup: I give this two thumbs up (WAAAAAY up). Tastes exactly like the $8 pure maple syrup and it’s seriously cheaper. Like many whole dollars cheaper. The kids like it, we’re saving whole dollars, everyone’s happy.

Roundy’s Organics Fruit Spread: Also two thumbs up. Keep in mind, though, this product is smooshed up fruit. Not real hard to fuck up. It’s definitely cheaper than the national brands, with no discernible difference in taste or texture. Go for it.

Roundy’s Select Premium Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream: One thumb up. It’s okay, but it’s not that much cheaper than Breyer’s and it has a weird, slightly foamy consistency. It tastes a lot more processed than other premium ice cream brands. However, it does go on sale a lot, and, hence, the thumb.

Roundy’s All Natural and Roundy’s Organics All Natural Apple Sauce: Two, thumbs, but please see my comments above re: degree of difficultly in fucking up applesauce.

Roundy’s Select European Sodas (Lemonade, Raspberry Lemonade, Blueberry something, and I forget the rest): I guess one thumb up. These are really expensive, like $3 for a 1.5-liter bottle. Not available in individual serving sizes (which means serious loss of carbonation if you don’t drink the whole thing right away), the bottles are too tall and take up valuable tall-item space in the fridge. Taste is not memorable. That’s it, I’m taking the thumb away. These things blow. No thumbs.

Roundy’s Organics Crunchy Peanut Butter: Two thumbs up. Comparable to any national brand “natural” peanut butter. People, it’s smashed peanuts and salt, no need to pay more.

Roundy’s Citrus Breeze (or something like that) Anti-Bacterial Dish Detergent: One thumb. As dish detergent, it’s on the low end of the scale -- not as bubbly as Joy, without the grease-mitigating properties of Dawn, and lacking the historical presence of Ajax. Still, the price is easily half that of national brands, and sometimes, that’s good enough for us.

Roundy’s Eggs and Milk: Two thumbs. All eggs and all milk come from the orifice of a barnyard animal. There’s really no need to pay for a name-brand orifice.

So, in conclusion, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with Roundy’s store brand products, especially when it comes to things consisting primarily of smashed fruit or nuts or products that come from an orifice. Also, George W. Bush is a fucking idiot.

Help us help you – if you have something to say about Roundy’s, or any other store brands, let’s hear it in the comments!

Family Activity Review: The Cold, Indifferent Breath of Time, or, Borrowing Movies from the Public Library

2008-02-25T20:17:00.006-06:00

Ah, the public library system – a precious resource for our community. I do really, truly love the library with all my heart (especially Milwaukee’s Central Library) and we try to get there at least once a week.

So it made perfect sense to eschew Netflix and Blockbuster and get our movies from the beloved library. Oh, how wonderful and thrifty this would be! What money we would save!

We’ve never been more wrong. In the last month, we’ve spent an average of $40 a month on late fines for these “free” library videos. This is not an exaggeration. In fact, out of shame, I’m minimizing the amount of the fines.

Right now you’re asking yourself: “Why? How? Are you guys really that stupid?”

The answer to the first two questions is simple: The Fucking Three-Day Movie Policy (FTDMP).

And I’m just going to lay it on the table now -- I’m almost positive that the long-term economic growth strategy for the library is built on our family’s failure to navigate the FTDMP. And I have proof.

The first few times we failed to meet the FTDMP deadline it was a psychological thing. It’s the fucking library -- you get to keep library stuff for like two or three weeks, right? Something from the library doesn’t have to be back in 72 hours! That’s some fascist-Blockbuster-type shit.

Also, these three-day returns are supposedly based on some sort of “New Release” system. Ok, fine, I’m familiar with the “New Release” concept from the old Blockbuster days. But “Jaws?” I'm supposed to wrap my head around the fact that according to the library, “Jaws,” released in 1975, is a new release and therefore must be whisked back in a few fleeting hours? In what kind of fucked up universe do I need a reminder in Outlook to make sure I meet my “Jaws” deadline?

I’m guessing the person who decides the “New Release” status is heading toward the end of their 7th decade and doesn’t really like movies.

Think I’m being dramatic or mean-spirited? I simply ask you to consider these hot new releases we’ve recently borrowed from the library:

The Seventh Seal (1956)
1900 (1976)
The Sorrow and the Pity (1969)
Jane Eyre (1970)
The Last Emperor (1987)

Considering how totally insane it is to pair any of these titles with the concept of “New Release,” I thought maybe the FTDMP was instead based on a title's popularity.

All you really have to do is read the list again to know that’s not true either.

So it's just totally random. Further proof that the FTDMP is a deliberate profit center.

The other problem stemming from the FTDMP comes from a phenomenon I call the “over-borrow.” Something about the Central Library’s media center makes us lose all control and grab movies like we’ll never get another chance.

“Hey, how about this 12-tape collection of “The Jewel in the Crown?”
“Why the hell not?”
“Isn’t it about time we actually watched an Ingmar Bergman film?”
“Sure, get ‘em all!”
“Number one son wants the entire X-Files series on DVD.”
“Great, whatever. (You don’t have a lot of homework this week, right?)”
“Here’s a nine-part series of dramatic biographies about 18th Century Japanese composers.”
“Great, great. Only nine parts? What else can we find?”

We have never left the library with fewer than 18 individual titles. And that’s a HELL of a lot of keep track of in a mere 72 hours.

The library does nothing, NOTHING, to save us from ourselves. If there’s a limit to the number of movies you can borrow at one time, we haven’t reached it, and believe me we’ve tried. Another reason I’m sure this is a deliberate money-making system.

We try to get the movies back in time, really we do. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve wrenched a sci-fi movie from a surly 11-year-old’s hands, screaming “But it’s a three day video, A THREE DAY VIDEO!”

A weekly scene finds Michael and me at the dining room table, surrounded by dozens of empty DVD and video boxes, disks and half-rewound tapes -- eyes glazed, mouths agape, minds numbed by lack of sleep -- trying to match FTDMP titles with the appropriate case. At our backs, we feel the relentless push, the never-ending march, the cold indifferent breath of time --circling nearer, bearing down, threatening to drown us in unmet responsbilities.

On the bright side, no children’s videos or DVDs fall under the FTDMP. You get seven days for those puppies.

So, in summary:

Title: Blues Clues, Blue’s Birthday
Length/Particulars: 38 minutes, released 1998
Library Says: No prob. Relax. Take as much time as you need.

Title: Middlemarch
Length/Particulars: Six and a half hours. Released I don’t know when. I think it was an old Masterpiece Theatre mini-series.
Library Says: Missy, you better get yourself some crystal meth or work yourself into a depressive insomniac state or something, cause you’ve got 72 hours to get this thing done. We’re betting you won’t, though. Oh yes, we’re betting you won’t. We’re betting exactly $2 in maximum library fines that you won’t. AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

The Quimby Award: Candy Cane Lane

2008-01-18T22:17:00.000-06:00

Now that the holidays are officially over, we have time to sit back and reflect on the traditions and events that make Christmas so special.

Some years ago, we stumbled upon a local holiday landmark, Candy Cane Lane. Even if you're not from Milwaukee, I'm sure you’re familiar with the concept – homeowners get together and coordinate aggressive, excessive outdoor Christmas displays. In Milwaukee, Candy Cane Lane (CCL) is a 12-block area of small 1950’s and 60’s ranch homes demarcated by strips of white and red plastic twined around poles and trees.

The participation rate is impressively (and maybe suspiciously) high. I’m imagining tense neighborhood association meetings, a lot of peer pressure, confusing and arbitrary rules and Machiavellian power plays.

Michael imagines a Grande Dame of Candy Cane Lane; a pushy, judgmental old lady who often admonishes, “It’s supposed to be about the candy canes!”

Of course, I suppose it could be that people simply enjoy participating in a community activity and sharing the joy of the season. I guess.

Anyway, the participation rate is a good 90%. Anyone without decorations? Probably Muslims or Commies.

Quantity over quality is a popular approach to decorating in CCL. It appears many homeowners, possibly drunk at the time, fling dozens of strings of flashing multi-colored lights in the general direction of the shrubbery and plug those puppies in. “I’ve got your Candy Cane Lane right here!”

On the other hand, some people go to a lot, and I mean A LOT of effort. We’re talking hand-carved wooden figurines, synchronized lighting routines, piped-in music, little slide shows projected onto garage doors, animated penguin carousels, giant working snow globes, inflatable polar bear jazz bands, human-scale nativity scenes, working “Days to Christmas” countdown clocks and just about every type of illuminated plastic holiday figure imaginable.

I almost forgot about the corporate sponsorship! As you approach “CCL Central” (the intersection where high school girls or firemen or Shriners or random old people stand in the middle of the street and hit you up for a donation), there’s a brightly lit sign welcoming you to Candy Cane Lane, on behalf of Verizon Wireless. Excellent.

Michael just reminded me that CCL raises a lot of money for cancer research. Thanks. I feel like a total asshole now. And really, that’s super, but maybe they should also donate some money to an environmental organization since it must take millions of kilowatt hours to keep CCL going from dusk ‘til dawn, Thanksgiving to New Years.

There is a point to this story.

After our first visit, I realized CCL provided a perfect opportunity to resurrect one of my family’s Christmas traditions.

Each December, my family would pile in the car, pop in the cassette of John Denver and the Muppets, and go looking for houses to nominate for “The Quimby Award.” My dad started this tradition and it’s one of my fondest Christmas memories.

The criteria for the Quimby Award are really pretty straight forward:

• There must be flashing or “chasing” lights somewhere on the scene.
• The tableau must blend the sacred and profane. A light-up Frosty or Santa hovering over the baby Jesus? Excellent.
• Some type of Licensed Character should be present.
• Bonus points if there is evidence of decorations from another holiday anywhere in the yard – a rotting pumpkin on the porch, or one of those jack-o-lantern lawn and leaf bags next to the garage? Perfect.

So, without further adieu, here are the nominations for the 2007 Quimby Award!

In this post 9-11 world, I think it’s time to update the nomination criteria to include anything with a military theme. USA! USA! USA!

The kneeling Santa. Always a classic. The lighted reindeer is a nice touch.

Holy shit, what is going on here? “Son, I know you’ve been a good boy, but I'm afraid Santa can't make it this year -- he’s fighting insurgents in Iraq. In fact, with stop-loss and mandatory tour extensions, I really wouldn’t expect him next year, either.”

I know the picture quality is poor, but what we’ve got here is a giant illuminated snow globe with a bottle of brandy inside of it. Underneath is the legend: “Celebrate the Holiday.” Klassy.

SpongeBob SquarePants, check.
Totally insane amount of flashing lights, check.
But something’s missing…if only…WAIT, is that “John 3:16” done up in flashing lights on the side of the house?!?

We may have a winner here, people!

Foodstuff Review: Trader Joe’s Light Mayonnaise

2008-01-16T23:22:00.001-06:00

Ah, the bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich. Has God blessed us with a culinary experience more sublime? The Quimby Mathias Family enjoys BLTs more often than is probably recommended, but it’s hard to resist the deliciousness. As a bonus, the BLT is enjoyed, in some incarnation, by every one of our children—the BL, the BT, or even the LT. The B, plucked from a serving plate and eaten with fingers, is also popular.

One recent night, the stars appeared to be arrayed for an even better than usual BLT. The nitrate-free bacon was outstanding—not too salty, not too sweet. The whole-grain white bread was firm and chewy, toasted to a perfect golden brown. The romaine was crunchy. And the tomatoes? Sweet and tangy.

And, yet the result was a pure and unmitigated dining disaster. Barely eaten sandwiches were dropped into garbage cans, left on plates, or tossed outside for the possum that lives near our garbage cans.

What, what, WHAT in the name of Saint Anthony, that patron saint of heavenly bacon, could have ruined a sandwich with so much potential?

Trader Joe’s Light Mayonnaise.

I’ve never in my life thrown away a BLT sandwich, but as often is the case with Trader Joe’s products, there’s a first time for everything. (For example, the only pizza ever rejected by our children.)

I don’t know if I can adequately describe how just how bad this mayonnaise is.

First, the texture and body are weirdly translucent. Do you recall the slime effects in Ghostbusters? Well, not the first Ghostbusters, more like Ghostbusters II, where the producers were really trying to squeeze money out of the franchise. The really cheap slime. That’s what Trader Joe’s Light Mayonnaise looks like.

The taste is overwhelmingly vinegary, but still somehow bland, almost like a glue on bread.

And, Lordy, just like glue or cheap Hollywood slime, Trader Joe’s Light Mayonnaise sticks to everything it comes into contact with, rendering even delicious bacon inedible.

Again, we have nothing against the Trader. The store at Bayshore is tiny, but the prices are great and the staff is much, much, much less annoying than the angst-filled dreadlocked teens you have to interact with at Outpost or Lean and Snarly.

It’s just that when one of their products fails, they tend to fail spectacularly.

In any event, unless you’re willing to give the food away to the opossums, avoid the Light Mayonnaise from Trader Joe’s.

Easy-Bake Oven: What the Fuck?

2008-01-14T19:58:00.000-06:00

Editor’s note: one of our New Years’ resolutions was to swear more often and more offensively. It’s been tough, but I’m still sticking to it and doing my part to "Make it Great in 2008!"

When I was six, I received an Easy-Bake Oven for Christmas. My mom wouldn’t let me take it home from grandma’s house. We lived 2,000 miles away from grandma. Ever since, I’ve been obsessed with Easy-Bake Ovens. So much so that I decided that our children—three boys—simply had to have one for Christmas.

Such giddy anticipation.

And such crushing disappointment.

First of all, thanks, Hasbro, for confirming that all toy companies are totally fucked in the head when it comes to gender. All Easy-Bake Ovens are either hot pink or purple or hot pink and purple. All of them.

Hey, Hasbro—ever heard of James Beard? Paul Prudhomme? Gordon motherfucking Ramsey? I’m pretty sure they use(d) ovens. Not just that bitch Rachel Ray. (Jesus, can I eat a goddamn Ritz sometime this century without her annoying mug staring up at me?)

I have an idea -- how about a Hell’s Kitchen version of the Easy-Bake for the guys? How about that, Hasbro, you fucking donkeys!?!?!

Ok, I’ll try to focus here.

I realize I’m bitching about an appliance that utilizes a 40 watt light bulb as the heating element, but DAMN, this thing is slow. The instructions suggest allowing it to pre-heat for 20 minutes, and then it takes at least that long to bake anything.

If you're thinking this doesn’t seem very long, keep in mind the Easy-Bake branded mixes, which are shamelessly sold for $5 a pop, amount to about a quarter-ounce of actual foodstuffs (and I use that term loosely). There is so little mix, it only takes a teaspoon and a half of water to create a moist batter.

I’m totally not exaggerating.

These little packets of mix are like toner cartridges. It would be cheaper to buy a new Easy-Bake Oven, which comes with like three packets of mix, than to buy two individual packets of replacement mix.

Again, I’m not exaggerating (much).

Like I was saying, this thing is S-L-O-W. In fact, it takes so fucking long that the kids forget about the tiny cake. As it turns out, this is somewhat a relief since it takes the wisdom of Solomon to split a cake the size of a fifty cent piece into three equal servings.

On the other hand, this is supposed to be a family activity, and now I’m solely responsible for a half-inch diameter pan of miniature Blondies. Great.

Who here didn't think it was possible to burn food with a light bulb? Well, you can. Now I’m solely responsible for scraping burnt miniature Blondie from a tiny pan.

The kids? Lost interest. Hours ago. I'm not even sure where they are.

And I’m too depressed to go into how these tiny baked goods actually taste. Needless to say, it didn't live up to expectations built from almost 30 years of anticipation.

I’ll leave you with this: printed prominently on the front of each $5 mix packet are the words, “Product shown larger than actual size” and “Your results may vary.”

Amen, Hasbro, amen.

Oh, and a teeny piece of advice, Hasbro – maybe next time you should focus less on the “results may vary” type of legal CYA and oh, I don’t know, make sure your pretty pink and purple ovens don’t, say, AMPUTATE THE FINGERS OF UNSUSPECTING CHILDREN? Ok? Thanks.

Restaurant Review: Grecian Delight, Milwaukee, WI

2007-12-06T10:11:00.000-06:00

For obvious reasons, which are three, nine and 11 years old, we don’t eat out a lot. When it happens, it is generally a hurried and exciting affair and typically ends with us paying an enormous tip to placate wait- and bus-staff.

The other night we found ourselves with few groceries and a mid-evening social engagement, so we decided to take the kiddies out to eat. For reasons known only to our subconscious and perhaps the pantheon of Greek gods, we choose Grecian Delight. As Michael’s friend used to say, I guess we were “hankering for a hunk of grey meat rotating on a spit.”

For those unfamiliar with Grecian Delight, it is a typical “Greek” restaurant near a university and strip of bars/nightclubs featuring gyros, chicken sandwiches and the like. The busiest hours are between Midnight and 3:00 AM.

Neither my husband nor I had been to such a place in a real long while, so I guess we thought this would be “fun” and “nostalgic.”

It was definitely nostalgic. First off, Grecian Delight must be one of the last remaining restaurants in the city where you can smoke, and more importantly, where there does not appear to be any designated non-smoking section. Seriously. Ashtrays, with ashes and butts, where on every other table throughout the restaurant. Awwww, how 1990.

The kids were a little freaked.

The menu was about as I remembered, it, with the addition of some true Greek classics like jalapeno poppers and chocolate chip cheesecake.

A man with many gold chains and a reluctance to button his shirt took our order.

Number one son ordered a hamburger; number deux ordered a fish sandwich. Third child went for that famous Grecian specialty, French fries and pita bread. Mr. Healthy got the grilled chicken pita (sans onion, but they put the onion on anyway).

Not me. If I was at this smoky, smelly place, I was getting a gyro, dammit (sans onion).

(Yes, our 13-year marriage is built on a solid foundation of onion hatred. What of it?)

Wow. Gyros are not good. I realize I was probably shit-faced the last time I ate one, but really, is there any level of drunkenness that could make a gyro taste good?

I tried to finish it -- really, I did. In the end I just couldn’t do it and surrendered it over to number one son, who thought it was delicious.

Foodstuff's Review: Trader Joe's Three-Cheese Pizza

2007-12-05T07:15:00.000-06:00

How bad does pizza have to be for kids to reject it? Pretty fucking bad.

I don’t like to trash Trader Joe’s products. I like the store, I really like the prices and I like the fact that I can purchase a chunk of blue cheese without 1) borrowing money or 2) having to interact with cheese personnel who must fetch my gorgonzola from behind the glass case – I’m looking at you, Whole Foods.

But as we’ve discussed before, the ‘Trader sometimes peddles foods that just aren't that great. And some are downright God-awful. Like the three-cheese pizza.

Every good pizza needs a solid foundation—the crust. To describe the TJ’s pizza crust as “cracker-like” does an injustice to crackers everywhere. Try “cardboard-like.” Actually, cardboard is softer, moister and likely has more flavor. The crust is also weirdly powdery/floury which doesn’t exactly help with the dryness.

Next, the sauce. Way, way, WAY too sweet. It’s more like some type of gag-inducing sweet tomato preserves instead of pizza sauce.

This pizza claims to have three cheeses. With so many cheeses to choose from, you’d think they’d be less stingy. They could double, nay, TRIPLE the amount of cheese and it still probably wouldn’t be enough.

The overall flavor is very bland. You get the grossly sweet flavor of the sauce, and that’s it – you’re left desperately trying to choke down the crust.

Our children have never rejected pizza of any type until the Trader Joe’s three-cheese pizza.

So if you love candy-sweet yet somehow completely tasteless pizza, or if you love eating cardboard and hate cheese, or if you’re trying to get your pudgy kids to loose a little weight, then Trader Joe’s three-cheese pizza is for you.

Family Movie Review: The Ladykillers

2007-11-27T14:35:00.000-06:00

Sometimes it seems I have less common sense than any other person on the planet. This phenomenon is caused, in part, by the fact that I tend to believe whatever people tell me.

Case in point. I believed a total stranger (and oily teen) when he suggested that my mother-in-law and I take her 82-year-old mother and my eight-year-old son to a matinee of the Coen Brothers “The Ladykillers.” When we pressed him on the appropriateness of the film for our little group, I believe his feedback was “It shouldn’t be a problem.”

We were supposed to see something much more inter-generationally friendly and appropriately rated, but, sadly, it was sold out, or maybe we were late. Regardless, this is when said oily box office drone suggested that “The Ladykillers” might be an acceptable substitution.

Why would this boy have any reason to lie to me? To my son? To Grandma?

Should we have shied away simply because of the Coen Brothers moniker? Maybe, but really, it could go either way. “Raising Arizona?” “O Brother Where Art Thou?” Both great family films.

“The Ladykillers?” Not so much. This wasn’t one of the Coens’ more popular (or better) films, so perhaps you’re not familiar. I can sum it up pretty quickly:

1) Someone’s dick gets blown off
2) Sophisticated, subtle humor based on the trials and tribulations of Irritable Bowel Syndrome
3) The words fuck, fucker, fucking, mother-fucker or mother-fucking are used at a rate of once every 1.67 seconds
4) Lashings and lashings of the good old ultra-violence
5) Tom Hanks

That’s pretty much all I remember. I was a little distracted. I spent a lot of my time watching the exits, thinking Dane County Child Protective Services was going to bust in at any minute. I spent a lot more time imagining I could feel the eyes of our fellow movie patrons actually boring holes in the back of my skull. The remaining time was occupied by slyly monitoring grandma’s respiration and pulse, in case some sort of medical intervention was required.

Our son? Best two hours of his life. Couldn’t believe his luck. I’m sure he remembers every second.

Why didn’t we just leave? I can’t really tell you. I guess I like to give everything a fair chance. I kept thinking “The Ladykillers” would redeem itself, and that our little family outing would somehow all work out in the end. And you know what? It kinda did.

Our son was thrilled I found him mature enough to see such an adult film and that I trusted him so much I knew he wouldn’t repeat any of the language or content, say, at school (this was the line I gave him, and I still think it’s pretty good). Grandma was thrilled someone took her to see a movie not written with 11-year-old girls in mind. Besides Tom Hanks, my mother-in-law and I quickly recovered and agreed that we didn’t have to tell anyone if we didn’t feel like it.

Foodstuffs (?) Review: Let's dip Dracula (Fuchs Brand)

2007-11-19T22:00:00.000-06:00

My very cool friend Gina brought me this gift from her adventures in one of the “ania” countries of Central Europe. She knew I would appreciate nothing better than a powdered dip mix bearing the excellent name “Let’s dip Dracula.”

It’s the best gift I’ve ever received.

This review will be somewhat incomplete, since I haven’t the heart to open the package and actually prepare the dip. And since I don’t read Romanian (I think it’s Romanian) I probably shouldn’t prepare the dip anyway. If I ever do prepare it, I probably shouldn’t eat it, or feed it to anyone else, especially our small children.

Anyway, most of the discussion about Let’s dip Dracula has to do with punctuation.

I can’t shake the feeling that the Fuchs corporation omitted a critical piece of punctuation in the product name, Let’s dip Dracula.

Amongst my friends, family and former co-workers, there is much disagreement as to which punctuation mark is missing.

Most of us agree it’s one of two things:

1) It’s either missing an exclamation point, as in: “Let’s dip Dracula! Grab him! Totally submerge him in dip!”

2) Or, it’s missing a comma, as in, “Let’s dip, Dracula. Let us, you and I, cast caution to the wind and dip together in delicious dipping delight.”

Please feel free to weigh in, unless you just want to tell me I’m obviously over-thinking this whole thing and it’s nothing more than a product name written by someone with a less than firm grasp of English. I’ve heard THAT one before.

Healthstuffs Review: Olbas Pastilles

2007-11-19T17:57:00.001-06:00

Like almost everyone else I know, I’ve had a cold for about 39 days. It pulls the old dangle and snatch -- I’ll feel better for a day or two and then WHAMMO! I’m a dribbling, snotty, throbbing, pounding mess again.

Last Friday was particularly bad, from a virus-count standpoint. Mid-afternoon found me wandering aimlessly around Ye Olde Health Foode Shoppe, searching in vain for something that a) I could taste and b) would easily pass the giant chunk of phlegm in my throat. As I was approaching the checkout line, I spied these little beauties.

Olbas Pastilles!

I was instantly drawn in:

1) The product seemed to hail from some pastoral European country, possibly Switzerland, maybe Norway.

2) The words “Powerful Vapors” were featured prominently on the box. I am in serious need of some powerful vapors. I’d huff Pledge if I thought it would do any good and wouldn’t set such a terrible example for the children.

3) I felt the tagline “Clears the Head Soothes the Throat,” was written with me in mind. (The secondary tagline “Extra Strong and Penetrating” made me a tad uncomfortable, but I wasn’t going to let that get in the way.)

4) The ingredient list included juniper berries. Don’t they flavor gin with juniper berries? Couldn’t hurt.

5) The ingredient list also included chlorophyll. Cool. Remember Clorets gum? It’s the gum that freshened your breath – with SCIENCE!

After paying the stunning price of $4.95 for these throat lozenges (sorry, “pastilles”) I settled into our 2001 Chevrolet Venture Minivan (Warner Brothers Edition) and busted open the cute little box.

The first thing I noticed is that some type of white power kept sifting from the Olbas Pastilles box -- all over my skirt, coat and the seats of Vannie. Was is sugar? Chlorophyll? Gin dust? Whatever is was, it was fucking messy. I’m a bit on the OCD side, so I wasn’t loving the white powder.

After dusting myself off, I extracted a pastille from the box. It was dark green (chlorophyll?), a bit on the small side, kinda shaped like a beetle. Basically looked like your typical throat lozenge, but it was covered in that white powder, which I now decided was sugar.

Preparing myself to be “extra penetrated with powerful vapors,” I popped that puppy in. The first few seconds were ok, and then the sugar coating wore off.

Sweet baby Christ these things taste like shit. Sure, there are some menthol-y vapors, and a faint eucalyptus-y flavor, but there’s also some type of musty, rotting vegetation-y taste that was powerful enough to penetrate even my dulled taste buds.

And lozenges are supposed to be hard, right? You suck on it until it disappears to a tiny, sharp sliver and then you crunch it up. Not the Olbas Pastilles. After teasing you with the illusion of hardness, they turn gummy and sticky, and you’re left like a cow, chewing her cud. Cud, by the way, also contains chlorophyll.

In conclusion, the next time you need powerful vapors, do yourself a favor, save the $4.95, and get yourself some Halls.

Auto Review: 2001 Chevrolet Venture Minivan (Warner Brothers Edition)

2007-11-18T13:43:00.000-06:00

Historically, we’re minimalists when it comes to our vehicles. We’ve never owned a new car, and traditionally our cars are a) inherited from family members and b) the most basic editions of Japanese sedans. We also hate mini-vans. However, with the advent of our third (and one might say “late in life”) child, there was no getting around it – to keep the kiddies safe, we needed a vehicle with three rows of seats. The mini-van seemed to be the lesser of two evils, when compared to the Canyonero-esque array of SUVs on the market (“Smells like a steak and seats 35!”).

We weren’t too picky about brand, model or year. My only deal breaker was color (couldn’t be white or red), Michael’s only deal breaker was he wanted it to be free. After that didn’t work out, we became the proud owners of a 2001 Chevy Venture Minivan (Warner Brothers Edition).

The price was right, the inner workings checked out, the color was acceptable, and besides the annoying metal Bugs Bunny/WB logo on the side, it seemed ok.

Our children were flabbergasted we would choose such a wondrous vehicle. It had at least eight thousand buttons, power everything, leather seats, and most amazing of all – a theatre/entertainment system, complete with wireless headphones for the kids! We were overwhelmed. One son kept asking when we had to return this amazing van.

I know a lot of these features are now standard on most minivans, but remember, our last family vehicle was a 1997 Nissan Sentra.

After signing the loan paperwork, trying to avoid too much eye contact with the creepy sales guy, shrewdly (we thought) purchasing the optional one-year “bumper-to-bumper” warranty, we proudly piled into “Vannie” and took a little spin to grandma’s house.

This is the last time I remember a problem-free ride in this vehicle.

You know it’s a bad sign when your mechanic rolls his eyes when you mention the make and model of your vehicle and says “Oh God, I had one of those once.”

Here’s a (probably incomplete) list of everything that’s gone wrong with Vannie since the summer of ’04.

1) Gas gauge inoperable. Estimate to repair - $700. This still isn’t fixed, so we reset the on-board computer thingy to keep track of gas consumption, sometimes with disastrous results – sorry Kelly!
2) Gas tank dicked up, as in, we couldn’t put any gas in the tank. Gas is sorta critical for an internal combustion engine. Repaired to the tune of $600. This problem occurred within two weeks of purchase but was not covered by our “bumper-to-bumper” warranty. I guess the gas tank is somehow outside of the range encompassed by the front and back bumpers. Who knew?
3) Viewing screen for entertainment system breaks. Children inconsolable. Parents gleeful. Seriously, that thing was more trouble than it was worth. We had to create all kinds of weird rules like, “No movies on a trip less than 45 minutes long.”
4) Head gasket replaced. I’m not going to pretend I know what a head gasket is or what it does, but I do know it is critical and costs $1,200 to fix. This was the repair that caused our mechanic to regretfully admit he thought the ’01 Ventures were “lemons.” Excellent.
5) Heating and air conditioning system completely malfunctions. No heat, no air, no defrost, no blower. $600 to get the heat going (it was winter), air conditioning still inoperable (actually, worse than inoperable, it blows a gentle stream of heated air if the blower is on at all).
6) Car overheats and ceases to run. I can’t remember the reason why, but it cost $500 to get it going again. It took the mechanics a while to diagnose this problem, partially because when taking it out for a test drive, they ran out of gas (see #1, above).

Other than that, no complaints!

So, if you want a car your kids will love (until the entertainment system breaks) and that will strip you of most of your expendable income, you could do worse than the 2001 Chevrolet Venture Van (Warner Brothers Edition).

Foodstuffs Review: Trader Joe’s Korean Style Marinated Short Ribs.

2007-11-18T09:40:00.000-06:00

I’m embarrassed to admit we bought these twice. I honestly thought I got a bum package the first time we made them, so like a total douche I went back for a second helping of pain.

1) These ribs contain an approximate 1:3 ratio of meat to fat, gristle and bone. And that’s on a good chunk.

2) The ribs are so whisper thin the merest kiss of heat renders the meat well-done-to-burnt. With the possible exception of official Olympic Games stopwatches, there is no timer setting short enough to prevent this meat from overcooking. The packaging suggests grilling to be the optimal cooking method, however, I would postulate that placing these slender ribs over an open fire would render them to charcoal.

3) They are pricey -- $7.99 for a pound -- and remember, three-quarters of that pound is fat, gristle and bone. I guess this would be a better deal if you had a dog, pig or secret, deformed child you fed only fat, gristle and bone.

4) When you can find it, and extract it from the fat, gristle and bone, the meat itself is strangely delicious (how could it not be, so completely laced with beef fat) but like some punishment hatched in the bowels of Hades itself, the more you want, the less there is to be had. You think Tantalus got a bum deal, try watching three hungry carnivores sit down to a plate of these short ribs.

5) The ribs are cut “against the grain”, which means you see a cross-section of the bones. I don’t like to look at that much marrow while I’m eating. Just me.

So in conclusion, if you’re into burnt stuff, fat, gristle, bone, marrow and unfulfilled desire, indulge your tastes in Trader Joe’s Korean Style Marinated Short Ribs.

Babystuffs Review: White Cloud "Supreme" Diapers (Size Five)

2007-11-17T09:48:00.000-06:00

I'm not going to explain why I was at Wal-Mart, but rest assured it is an extremely unusual experience for me—like less than once a year unusual. Not only do I oppose Wal-Mart from a community and human rights standpoint, I find the experience of entering a store extremely unpleasant and, how can I put this delicately, really fucking white-trashy.

But in Wal-Mart I was, and like 27 billion other people in the country, I was lured lemming-like to the mind-blowing savings offered by Wal-Mart house brands.

Honestly, can you blame me? A similarly sized package of White Cloud Supreme (WCS) diapers was like NINE whole dollars less than our tried and true Huggies Supremes. The package claimed the same features, had a cute, racially indiscriminate boy on the cover, and amazingly, no licensed characters on the package or the diapers themselves. I quickly rationalized that the diapers must be exactly the same as Huggies Supremes, but so much cheaper because they don't pay licensing fees to whichever evil corporate conglomerate owns Pooh, Piglet and Tigger. See!? I might be shopping at Wal-Mart, but I’m still sticking it to the man. Power to the people!

My empowered feelings diminish once I get home and strap the WCSs on my sweet unsuspecting boy.

First let’s talk absorbency. Try none. You know those maxi-pad commercials where a manicured female hand dribbles a tiny eyedropper of scientific-looking blue liquid in order to demonstrate absorbency? The volume of that dropper would stretch this diaper’s capabilities to the very outer limits.

Now imagine the urinary capacity of a potty training toddler, who is very good at holding it for hours before releasing the floodgates. These puppies didn’t stand a chance. Absolutely useless. Nay, MORE than useless. I’d rather have him go commando so I wouldn’t have to deal with wet clothing, bedding AND the horrifyingly gross task of picking up the millions of globules of urine-plumped gel that burst forth at a whisper-soft brush of the “cloth-like covering.”

By now, you may have guessed that I’m not real impressed with the White Cloud nappies.

I'll leave you with a frightening thought. These were White Cloud SUPREME diapers. God help those who were suckered into buying the basic White Clouds.

Fun fact! When I spell-checked this piece, Microsoft wanted me to replace “Huggies” with “Haggis.” Awesome! Actually, maybe Wal-Mart should take heed – sheep casings may work better as a diaper cover than whatever material they’re using now.

But not all was lost…for as you will see, I also purchased Wal-Mart’s organic cotton baby wipes, which were a pleasant surprise (esp. after the useless fucking diapers)!

Toy Review: Harry Potter Electronic Wand

2007-11-17T08:00:00.002-06:00

Harry Potter Magic Spell Challenge Wand Electronic Hand-Held Game by Hasbro & Tiger Electronics.

You’re probably thinking, “Hey, there’s been a lot of hoopla about this Harry Potter thing and the holidays ARE fast approaching – maybe I’ll get my kid this neato Harry Potter wand!”

That would be one of the biggest mistakes you’ve ever made in your entire life.

We’ve owned this product for five years. None of us has any fucking idea how it works and even less how you play the “game.” And this is after thoroughly deconstructing the printed directions, calling the manufacturer, consulting web sites and just dicking around with it for an ungodly period of time.

Mostly what happens is, when you turn the wand on, some of the buttons light up and the wand starts screaming “Wingardium” over and over again. Push a button, wave it around, and pretty much the same: “Wingardium! Wingardium!”

Every so often it terrifyingly threatens: “You win – THIS TIME!”

What? What did I just win? And how? This time? What’s going to happen next time? Who are you?

We also couldn’t figure out how to turn it off. We would think it was off, then it would randomly come to life, screaming “Wingardium!” and scaring the holy bejebus out of whichever child was unfortunate enough to leave it in his room.

So, in summary: Randomly blinking lights. “Wingardium!” “You win – THIS TIME!” Disembodied voices. No fucking idea how to play or, more importantly, how to turn it off.

Babystuffs Review: Wal-Mart Brand Organic Cotton Baby Wipes

2007-11-17T08:00:00.001-06:00

If you’re like me, you use diaper wipes for a lot more than cleaning waste products from your child’s nether-regions. I’ve used wipes for, but not limited to: makeup remover cloths, spot cleaners, earplugs, dust cloths, auto interior cleaners, whole body sponge baths, shoe shines, pathetic hand puppets, chocolate ice cream cone disasters, Kleenex and one desperate day, toilet paper.

In short, a good, sturdy wipe is important to today’s family on the go.

The organic cotton diaper wipes are soft, perfectly moistened and have a pleasant nubby texture not unlike a cotton wash cloth. If the wipes were scented, it must have been subtle, because I didn’t really notice it. Plus there’s the whole organic thing that really appeals to my guilty conscience, especially since these things came from Wal-Mart.

They are priced less than the non-organic national brands and the texture is hands-down better. So five stupid yellow smiley faces for Wal-Mart Brand Organic Cotton Baby Wipes!

Family Movie Review: The Ring

2007-11-16T09:35:00.000-06:00

If you’re like us, you see PG-13 and think “Eh, 11 years old -- close enough.”

Usually true.

However, do not, I repeat, do not -- despite the innocuous PG-13 MPAA rating and pleadings from your child that, “Mom, the last Harry Potter movie was PG-13” -- show “The Ring” to an 11-year-old at 9:30 on a Friday night.

Here’s a synopsis. Nostalgic VHS format turns anthropomorphic – TO KILL YOU. Goth/emo type girl comes out of the television – TO KILL YOU. Loving parents go nuts and decide -- TO KILL YOU.

This is an 11-year-old boy’s worst nightmare. And make no doubt about it. This is one scary fucking movie -- and I’m not just talking about the acting or gaping holes in the plot (hardy-har-har).

So, if you need to stay awake some night to finish making clothespin reindeer for holiday gifts, re-grout the tub or crank out that work project you procrastinated on, by all means show “The Ring” to your 11 year old at bedtime. He’ll keep you company if you can just ignore the whimpering and shaking.