This guy spent about as much time telling me and millions of other kids how things work as he did completely freaking me out. I’m talking about “Beakman” who starred on Beakman’s World (which I believe aired on CBS Kids on Saturday mornings). I guess the appeal may be in the grossness of the program. Nasty sound effects are endless in any of these clips. The one I’m posting is particularly “tooty.” Or as we called them in my household when I was a kid, “uh-ohs.” Not kidding.

UPDATE: Looks like this show is still airing. Click here to find out if it’s available in your area.

Threatening Your Grandmother With “No Storytelling” To Get Your Little Brother To Leave You Alone

I still pout the same way (can’t keep a straight face if I’m pretending) and sometimes my bottom lip sticks out involuntarily when I am sad, but I’m not quite as manipulative.

(Kyle, if you are reading this, I have tried to keep you out of this as much as possible since I know you don’t like it. But if you’re cool with Bethlehem now that you are 21-years-old and not 2.4 years, then we can talk. Not going to post that one without your permission. Because you are wearing little underpants.)

My Christmas gift to you: me, telling the Christmas story to my grandparents, aunt, and uncle. It’s basically me making a lot of excuses, stalling for time, and thinking of things as I go along.

I’m going to go ahead and say that I hate story songs. Probably because they were pretty popular when I was growing up and since we only ever listened to country radio stations that played gospel music on the weekends, I heard a lot of this stuff. The funny thing is that gospel shows on the radio thought that if something seemed vaguely sentimental it passed as “Christian” and a lot of these things ended up on there.

Yeah, I know. He can’t walk. And his daddy is dead. Recipe for a good Hallmark Christmas special, if you ask me. But be honest and PLEASE COMMENT if this thing made you laugh. (There’s another song I heard recently that did just about the same thing for me–”Little Boy That Santa Claus Forgot”)

The thing that kills this song for me is the use of the CB radio. Folks, if you still have one of these things, don’t let your child play with it. You know, I am glad that lil’ ol’ Teddy Bear’s story ended up pleasant and sweet with 18-wheelers lined up around the block, but that’s dangerous. I can tell you from experience that getting on a CB and letting truckers know you’re a little kid is an invitation for disaster. When I was little my cousins and I played on a relative’s CB out in the garage. Bad idea. Little girls should not talk on a CB because truckers like to say nasty things back.

And that is why when I hear this song I can’t think of kind-hearted souls concerned about a little boy. Instead I think, “Buncha pervs.”

Hope you enjoy my little link roundup here. Still working on my Pumpkin Spice blend coffee. I love low-carbing. Why? Two words: WHIPPED. CREAM.

Kevin and I are off to look at couches this evening at *cue organ music that makes you think of death and hades* Mathis Brothers. I have a reason for the music and I will tell you later. Suffice to say the ONLY reason I am going back is because I harassed no less than 15 people at that store until I got a $100 gift card.

THEN. We’re going to the mall and I’m going to spend a Sephora gift card. And honestly? Probably another hundred dollars of my own. Gah. I’m hopeless in there. And THEN we’re eating at The Cheesecake Factory for my belated birthday date.

And somewhere in there we’re picking up our engagement photos!

• This is a hilarious idea for a wedding. And only slightly creepy for my brother who was always scared to death by my dad whenever he made a change to his facial hair. Now, myself, I was scared of Granny’s wise men in the living room. The one with the black beard and crazy eyes freaked me out.
• I don’t about you, but that’s what I did on my birthday.
• My hometown (Elmore City, Oklahoma) has been experiencing a rash in cattle shootings. That raises some concern for me, but, I’m sorry, not quite as much as when the local devil worshipers were cutting one leg off a cow and leaving it to bleed to death. I dunno. Something about that doesn’t set well with me.
• Speaking of sawed off limbs…”7th Human Foot Washes Ashore on Canadian Coast.” I have watched enough crime dramas on TV to know that you have to study the tides before throwing stuff like that in the ocean. Seriously. So either this dude (statistics say it’s probably a dude*) knows what he’s doing and wants people to find these feet OR he’s an idiot.
• Please press charges. She could be your grandmother, folks.
• Note to self: hold your breath when you visit California. But seriously, there’s probably more than one reason to do that.
• “Rino Season Is Now Open“–Obey the spirit of the wild. I think (if it’s still on the air) Ted Nugent’s show on the Outdoor Network (?) is probably the only one my dad refuses to watch. It doesn’t matter how entertaining it may be, Dad can spot crazy from a mile away. Through a Leupold scope, most likely.
• If you aren’t listening to The Grizzly Bear Egg Cafe, you should be. I’m not sure why I tune in, since I know next to nothing about comic books, wrestling, and half the stuff they talk about…but it’s great.
• Uhh…this is funny. “Yeah, I know gays have been treated like crap over the years – but they were never slaves – unless it was requested in a Craigslist ad.” *ducks behind couch*
• Kevin and I have already discussed this and we are going to have one in our own home whenever we have children. Thank you, Redneck Diva!
• Go buy some Christmas gifts! I link to this because it features something that makes me laugh, too: the “Nuddle” or “Snuggie” whatever you want to call it. The blanket with sleeves that makes you look like a monk.>
• The Friar looks to the future and tells us what the next four years will be like.
• You know what I have to say? Get over it. Like I told Nume over at Kick the Anthill, “I watched my dad bleed and clean turkeys hanging from my swingset outside my bedroom window by the light of the November moon.” And look how I turned out.
• Picking this up the next time I’m at the newstand! Yay, French Toast Girl!
• Oh my goodness…yes.
  

  Everytime I hear about the Twilight series it makes me want to edit the Wikipedia page on vampires and remove the word “blood”.

  “Although many different cultures have been found to have myths of vampirism, it seems one defining factor is that all vampires suck blood”

  But I am trying to have grace since some of my loved ones are OBSESSED. Sigh. This holiday season could be really difficult. Forget not talking politics, let’s not talk Twilight.

• It’s sweater weather!
• “It’s simple, really: the real purpose of this mass gathering is not to witness history–but to pick up co-eds. The fact is, there has never been a better wing man on the planet than Obama. With his amazing ability to unify everyone under a feel-good notion that you’re totally awesome and everything’s going to be peachy keen – he’s like a human version of an ecstasy pill. If you’re for Obama, suddenly making out with someone else whose for Obama is totally okay!”
• At least there is someone who is standing firm and not swaying like a reed. Good for you, Fr. Jay Scott Newman.
• Brits at their best–what the stones don’t say. Thank you to those who have gone before us.

*Statistics produced by my brain.

I’m not 24, not until this afternoon, but today is my birthday.

Maybe I will try to do this every year. Maybe not. I tend to forget things. Sometimes I’ll put reminders in iCal and then when the reminder pops up it’s usually two or three words that make up a really cryptic message that I can’t decipher. Need to work on that one.

Here’s my list of 23 Things That Happened in My 23rd Year. I tried to hit most of the high points.

1. Got engaged. That’s a big one. Kevin and I had been dating just one year, 6 months, and 19 days when he proposed to me on June 28, 2008.
2. Graduated from the University of Oklahoma with a Bachelor of Arts in English – Writing. And I will be sitting behind a desk for the rest of my days.
3. Kevin’s parents met my parents. It wasn’t as scary or uncomfortable as I thought it might be. I don’t know why I was worried, really. It’s not like either side has a rhinoceros horn growing out of their forehead or a propensity for violence.
4. My love for politics was reignited.
5. Started writing for The Lost Ogle.
6. Quit writing for The Lost Ogle.
7. Got a temp job working for a company in OKC. Met some of the greatest people there.
8. Started blogging with aforementioned great people at Kick the Anthill.
9. Got a new job closer to home. Still working there.
10. Decided to obtain my teaching certificate. I’m still working on that one, but the decision was a really big deal. Kevin is going to be a teacher and it is a really big deal to me that we get to have vacations that we can spend together. My current situation does not allow for this.
11. Got those stinking wisdom teeth removed, thank You, Lord!
12. Found out what the issue was with my weight gain and lethargy.
13. Got that issue under control and lost 27 lbs!
14. Stood by one of my best friends as she got married.
15. Stood by another one of my best friends when she did the same.
16. Stood…just kidding. Passed Spanish 2223, woohoo!
17. Was the victim of multiple instances of vandalism. (Including one yesterday. Umm…do you think you folks might be able to take a break for my birthday?)
18. Unfortunately had to deal with friends choosing their politics over personal relationships, burning bridges, blocking me on Myspace, letting me down, and (at this point) appearing to step out of my life completely. Let me reiterate that this was one of my very best friends. I am numb.
19. Met Jolene (who admins GodlyGals with me) and had a wonderful weekend getting to know (in person) someone who has become a very dear friend to me. If I hadn’t thought it would be a tremendous burden on someone who lives thousands of miles away, I would have asked her to be a bridesmaid in a heartbeat.
20. Got to know more wonderful sisters at GodlyGals, dealt with our usual share of drama, and started a podcast for the ministry.
21. Became a member of a church.
22. Experienced my first Crumpler Christmas in Pennsylvania, then visited North Carolina and met some of Kevin’s extended family.
23. Became mildly e-famous for a few months after posting something about Sarah Palin and having people point out my resemblance to the governor.

There you go. My twenty-three things. A list of things I am thankful for might have been a little bit more appropriate if I’m going to be trying to make this list longer every year. Well, who knows what I’ll do tomorrow.

Today I wanted to find a photo of my grandfather to put up here, but sadly, I do not have one. My mom has some at home, but right now I don’t have access to post any. He served in the Navy for a number of years and fought in Korea. I never knew him though. He died when my mother was 15 and as one of the few constants in her life, I know that it must have been terribly traumatic.

Calling him “grandfather” is terribly formal for me and for this part of the country it can even be seen as callous or rude not to have a more familiar pet name for a grandparent. And that’s a strange thought. I have no idea what I would have called him. I asked Mom once before and I believe she mentioned something like “Daddy ____” (a lot of folks in her family tag “daddy” onto the front of an older man’s name). He had a few names though. Joseph Weldon “Leon” Kincade. Most folks called him Leon, but my grandmother called him “Joe” (go figure, her name was Lillian Louise and everyone called her “Sally”–which is interesting because when I was younger a man we went to church with started calling me Sally and it stuck. He never met or knew anything of my grandmother).

What I do know of my grandfather is what Mom has told me. He did his best to provide for and take care of his family and he served his country well. He was a pilot and once he was out of the service he flew commercially (I believe). That’s why my mom was born in Colorado and not in Texas.

I hear that women often end up marrying men that share traits with their fathers (of course, in cases of deadbeats or abusers it can be either this way or running as far to the other end of the spectrum as you can get). Piecing what I know of him together with what I see in my dad, I can deduce that he was a faithful, dutiful, responsible man, who wanted his children to have the very best chance in life. Without divulging too much (I believe I’ve talked about my mom’s family before, but I can’t recall), I can say that my grandfather made some tremendous sacrifices for the sake of his children. Some of the decisions he was forced to make…well, I cannot imagine the pain he probably went through in choosing to let someone else take care of his children. But instead of being selfish he gave them a new life and a chance.

And I think that, while a lot of that decency was instilled in him when he was a child, a good portion of who he turned out to be can be attributed to the training and discipline he received while serving our country. Without that presence of mind and selflessness I am not sure that he would have made the decision to give his children a chance at a better life–a decision that brought my mother to Oklahoma, through the doors of a church, and eventually to an altar where she would marry a man that reflected the decency and kind heart she’d seen in her own father.

This is only the second presidential election I have had the privilege to participate in, but I have had an interest in politics from a very young age. When I was in 3rd grade and was nominated by my classmates to be the Halloween Carnival Princess candidate I had to fill out a form where I let the student body know what my favorite color was, favorite animal, favorite subject, and what I wanted to be when I grew up. “The First Female President of the United States of America,” I wrote. I remember a giggle or two bubbling up from the crowd as I stood on the stage.

But I meant it.

Every year in school I was a class officer and involved in student government. Eventually I was elected to serve as Student Council president my senior year. I went on to be chosen to represent my school at Girls State, a mock government program (a week-long camp) that teaches young women about how various roles in the government work. What that made me see was that there was no way I had the patience to sit through hours and hours of legislation (I won my race and was elected state representative for my district), especially whenever the stinking governor (a “Sooner”—the equivalent of a Democrat at the Oklahoma Girls State…“Boomers” were the Republicans) would veto all of our bills except for the one about picking up dog poop. Anyway. More importantly, it sparked a fire in me that lives to this day. I remember leaning over to a friend during an evening full of speeches by some state politicians and saying, “I think I’m a Republican.” (Look out world…)

November does something to me. It is the culmination of years of work for a lot of people and the air is electric with hope—real hope. Not just some campaign slogan. The hope that your candidate will carry this election and go on to lead our country into the next few years.

We’ve established that I am passionate about it, right? Good. Something else I should say is that while I am loud, proud, and very Right here on my blog, I am not some rub-it-in-your-face loud-mouth in real life. Yes, I will get into it and talk for hours with fellow conservatives, but I am in no mood for a debate, ever. Honestly, if you are a liberal, I know where you stand. I have liberal friends and family. I don’t talk politics with them because I believe so deeply in what I believe, that it would be impossible for me to keep things separate and peaceful. Plain as that. Close-minded? No. Made-up-my-mind, “I Have Decided To Follow Jesus (No Turning Back, No Turning Back)”? YOU HAVE NO IDEA.

Point: I am not confrontational. There is not a bone in my body, not even the tiny ones that make up my pretty little fist, that likes to confront anyone.

This election cycle has brought me to my knees with an onslaught of verbal and emotional attacks, with even a bit of vandalism. The worst of which happened last week.

I would rather not go into great detail, because if the person who did this to me happened to read my blog, the last thing I would want would be to offend them further than I (apparently) already have.

A long-time friend of mine chose to step out of my life and a very important part of it, because I am not voting for Barack Obama. This person could not explain to me why they were voting for Sen. Obama, nor why I should. I am at a loss. Honestly, I chalk it up to ignorance. This person literally knows nothing about Obama’s stances on any issue, only that he’s made it sound as if they will receive substantial tax breaks if he is in office.

Now, dear, you get to find out.

And now, sir, you get the chance. Go out. Do well. I am patient and will be waiting right here in four years.

My family is “in oil.” (And before you start thinking it, no, this is not about how I started mainlining crude oil.) I don’t know how else to say it because there are so many complicated details about what they do. They don’t own a big company and we aren’t rolling in it like Devon and Chesapeake. No, it’s never been like that for us. We are a small, family-owned business, that has been passed down a few generations. My dad went out on his own to start another company as well, but still works for the family one and a few others. We have always lived right off the highway, in the middle of the country, in a hilly area peppered liberally with pump jacks.

But anyway. Being in this business, my dad and other family members sometimes have to head up to “The City” and get things lined out at the Corporation Commission and other places. When I was little these places were nothing more to me than big, pretty buildings.

Well, one time I got to go. I cannot imagine why, unless my mom was really sick or something, because taking a 4-year-old is just not what you do in one of these situations. We got there though and were seated in this room. I remember there being a lot of windows and a really big table.

And there on that table was a cup. In that cup was a dark, murky liquid that I assumed was pop. I grabbed it and took a drink.

It wasn’t pop. I imagine it was Aunt Betty’s because she’s the only one that was there on that day that would be drinking the brew, but I can’t be sure. Either way, that day in 1989, downtown Oklahoma City, I had my first taste of coffee. It was cold and it was bitter–and I loved it.

Well, not a cartoon, but one of my most vivid childhood memories.