Take this job and love it...

Another crazy week on Brown/Haugh world. Megan's student teaching is soon in full swing, and I'm living on coffee and working early/late a lot. NOT looking forward to a week spent in Charleston pandering to legislators, then the Feds, then legislators again, only to rush back so Megan can get to Zumba class on Thursday and prep for the Grant Class I'm teaching at WVU Friday morning. But such is our life, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Kole Greyson never ceases to amaze me. The parenting thing, for me (and I imagine for most people), is a constant act of self-doubting and second guessing. Am I being too hard on him? Too soft? Is he picking up my bad habits and ill manners? Is it necessarily good to request from a child that he, at some point, scream "China!" in some place in Arkansas, just because I want him too? I have spent a life of saying what I want, doing what I want (for the most part), and acting generally as crazy and idiotic as I pleased. Now, the consequences are always there...waiting to bite me in the butt. His mother neither appreciates it, nor finds it cute when she takes him to a store and he makes "asian" eyes at passers-by screaming "pingy pang chang chaw!!" and I don't blame her. That's embarrassing, fairly racist, and generally not nice. And I am 110% to blame. But it's these sorts of things that require us to make choices: While something may make he and I laugh so hard we squirt juice out our noses when we do it at home, it may not be the best activity for public consumption. On the other hand, maybe I feel the world is too overly-sensitive and I am subconsciously sending him out into the world, with four-year old immunity, to grate against the societal "norms". Like my personal little ambassador with diplomatic immunity. But that, most likely, is probably all BS. Probably more to the point is the fact that I am still learning, always learning, what being a parent means. It is easily the most difficult job I've ever had. I lead people, I make decisions, I deal with millions of dollars, but daily being part of a two-person unit trying to turn a tiny person into a good human being is far more difficult. I am lucky, however, in that I had great parents who gave me a good template to apply to parenthood. I am still often scared to death about what kind of "father" I am being, but at least I have the benefit of being given the kind of guidance that, at the time, I didn't respect very much, but now, is easily the greatest gift my parents ever gave me.

I love movies. I love the story arcs (3:10 to Yuma), I love the visuals (Lord of the Rings), I love when they make me think (No Country For Old Men), and I love when they allow me to not think at all (Predator). Nothing in this world beats the first time I watched "Open Range" and in the intial gun fight, Kevin Costner's character just walks up to the one "real killer" in the line of men facing him and pegs him squarely in the head. I love it when movies, good movies, shock me for that split second. Nothing beats TRULY being surprised by a movie on that first viewing (Fight Club, The Usual Suspects). And few things are more gratifying when a movie makes you feel like "wow, they really captured my viewpoint on life a little, or at least what I wished my viewpoint was.."(Happy Feet...just kidding....Braveheart).

Kole Greyson Haughis officially a Daft Punk fan. Kole loves robots and he loves louder, repetitive music, so a band made up of two guys who pretend to be robots and play loud, repetitive electronica are very much up his alley. They're also about the only good thing coming out of France at the moment, other than cheese. Come, enjoy one of Kole's favorite videos,Robot Rock:

And Sunday Mornin' Coming Down...

I have, interestingly enough, been asked by a couple people what I think of the current writer's strike in the entertainment industry. Being a writer by trade, albeit a writer of a very different ilk, I have been fascinated for some time with movie/tv/entertainment writing (as evidenced by the two of the blogs I frequent on the right) and have even made a couple half-baked forays into that world myself. That being said, my opinion is that, as a writer, you almost always have a sense of doing your best for the benefit of others. In that I mean, every piece of writing you accomplish is an exercise (if you're doing it correctly)in hard work, professionalism, and giving a little bit of yourself. Even if you consider yourself a "hired gun", which as a grant writer I often do, it is very difficult to trick yourself into believing that there's not a little piece of you in everything you write. So, from that standpoint, to be a good writer I think you need to "own" what you write. I think we tend to, as a public, enjoy television, reality shows, movies, etc. without really considering all the hard work and effort that goes into that Grey's Anatomy episode we can't wait to watch. The writers want a little of the residual dough from their work to carry them through the often-common lengths of unemployment they tend to suffer. It's simply the nature of the job and I don't find that to be unreasonable. If you'd like to educate yourself on some of the basic issues surrounding the strike, check out good ol' wikipedia for the scoop. Also, check out the screen writer's blogs I frequent or take a look at any of the thousands of others out there.

I so excited for the Iron Man movie to come out! I am a complete geek, and a borderline fanboy, and I've been through my share of issues of Amazing Spiderman, Punisher War Journal, and Wetworks (an Image Comics oldie, but goodie). Iron Man has a special place in my heart, though. You can't beat a flawed-hero, alcoholic, genius, millionaire inventor who makes a metal suit to a. escape captivity and b. continue to kick butt. I love the trailer. I hope the movie does the character justice. With Jon Favreau at the helm, I think it will.

Waiting on the "Time Machine"

How can I possibly fit all the exciting activities of the last four days into some sort of digestible literary format? Who knows? Let's find out.

As I write this, I sit at Megan's apartment waiting for the crack installation crew from Sears to deliver her new (well, soon enough it will be "our new") washing machine. They are going to be here between 9:45 and 11:45. It is currently 11:51. Go Sears. Kole is insistent that the are coming to deliver a "time machine" and we have corrected him repeatedly. I'm almost wishing it will be a time machine, so I can go back a few days and tell Sears they suck beforehand.

Work has been crazy. Crazy for a lot of reasons. Crazy because I have agreed to take on more tasks, but also crazy because I have so many now it is a struggle to complete them all in the time allotted and still maintain any semblance of a normal "home/outside life". I am tethered to my vocation by laptops, cell phones, deadlines, and my own erratic sense of perfectionism. It's been stressful. I have not been a pleasant person to be around, and its the ones I love the most who seem to bear the brunt of my ill manners. I have never been the kind of person who likes to"live" his job; it was always sort of a means to an end for me. I'm still not that kind of person. But the need to produce quality work and do more, better, faster is a constant struggle for me. Alas, until I get a few things pushed over into the "done" column, I have to settle for doing a lot of things "okay" versus a few things fantastically.

To compound things, I have this inner ear thing going on since yesterday. This is a particular, bizarre ailment that I unfortunately inherited from my Mom. Basically, it is fluid in the ears that tricks your brain into thinking that you're off balance all the time. Your equilibrium goes haywire, you are dizzy, nauseous, and it can make you feel very panicked. Think "the spins" when you're drunk but without being drunk. Just a walking Weeble that may indeed fall down at any moment.

Megan's parents gave me an awesome book for Christmas, and I've been tearing through it whenever I have free time. I'm about halfway through it and it's very cool. Called "Wild At Heart" it basically a study in the poor job the world, the church, and our peers have done in really helping men become more rooted in who they are. There is a series of books from this couple's ministry called "Ransomed Heart Ministries". I've found their work to be interesting, uplifting, and worth the read.

I have weekend work to accomplish. I have a birthday party to attend. I have Mexican food to consume. I have tread milling to do. I have officially sworn off the Creative line of products. I'm feeling nauseous.

The First Post...Man.

Tiring of the usual mode of blogospherification, myspace, I have opted to go off the reservation a bit and begin my own blog that is filled with blogginess and not much else. This will be the play place of my addled brain. My non-myspace area that lacks all presumptuous "adult popularity contest" nonsense that goes along with a "social networking" site.

People tend to like to watch me write. I tend to like to write. Some will be angry, some cheesy, some idiotic, some nonsensical. But I promise to kick it straight and check my spelling.

So, come with me on this magical journey through the inane series of linear tasks that comprise my life. Or, on this not-so-magical journey that culminates in several days, weeks, or months where I half ass, half finish, or never check this particular blog.

I will use this spot to shamelessly rant, shamelessly vent, shamelessly promote myself, my friends and the things I like, and shamelessly wallow in my own shame.

Let the pandering begin! If you want to see some clever, interesting cartoons, you can't beat Sam Brown (no relation...there's like a bazillion Browns on this earth, dude) at Exploding Dog.

My friend Mike does AMAZING PHOTOGRAPHY AND DESIGN. I like it. Now you will like it. His blog makes mine look like poop, but look at it anyway. Manderson!

More to come. More to create. More to destroy.