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Thanksgiving day was an adventure.  We did the usual go-stuff-your-face-with-as-much-food-as-you-can thing.  My uncle fried a turkey.  It was awesome.  My grandma made real banana pudding (like my great-grandma was famous for).  It was awesome.  We had a good time and lots of laughs.

I left around 3:30 to come back.  I drove to (almost) Augusta before I stopped for gas.  A lady comes over to me and says “Sir, your engine is smoking.”  There were 2 questions that hit my mind when she said that.  First, am I really old enough that a 20-something girl would call me “sir”?  Second, obviously, is why is my engine smoking?

I checked it out, and nothing was leaking, and  it didn’t appear to actually be overheating, so I drove about 10 miles and then stopped again.  All gages on the dash were reporting normal conditions, but I stopped anyway.  It was smoking again.  The reservoir for the radiator was low, but the radiator was fine.  I topped off the reservoir and double checked my oil level.  Another 30 miles down the road was the same story.  And about 45 miles down the road after that.

So I decided to stop in Conyers (barely into metro Atlanta on the east side) to check the levels again.  It wasn’t smoking.  No problems at all.  That’s odd.  So I drove home.  Still no smoking.  Ron’s confused.

If any of you have any idea what this problem might be, I’d love to hear it.

Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving.

We’ve got a cat.  She’s a good cat.  She’s a little high maintenance (diabetes), but she’s (usually) worth the effort.  Dinner time is her favorite time of day.

Usually we eat about 10-15 minutes after I get home from work, and she comes out from her royal hiding place to greet me when I get there.  Really, she’s just sucking up to make sure I know she still loves (to get food from) me.  It usually works.

She knows I’m the only one who will give her food, so she typically comes to visit me while we eat.  Usually I’ll give her a little meat from what I’m eating.  Last night was Chick-fil-a on the couch in front of the TV.  She was a little obnoxious about getting a bite of my chicken sandwich, so I didn’t give her any.  Plus, I was hungry.

After I finished my sandwich, I let her get up on the arm of the couch to see the plate.  Basically, I was doing it in a “see…you didn’t get anything because you were so annoying while I was eating” manner.  You’ve got to keep cats in their proper place.

She sniffed for a second and started tasting the leftover ketchup on the plate.  I asked my wife “are cats allowed to eat ketchup?” and she looked over just in time to see the cat tearing into that ketchup.  We laughed, and then I took the plate away from the cat.

She jumped down, and started doing that weird thing that cats do where they actually force up a hairball that was almost all the way through the digestive system.  Not good.

So I got up to grab her and put her in the kitchen (away from carpet), but she ran to the bedroom.  I caught up with her (a little too late) and we got her some water, and then I cleaned up the slimy ruddy mess.

Take my advice on this one.  It’s fun to watch a cat eat ketchup, but only if it’s not your cat.

Thanks to Arthur Alligood for the slap in the face I needed this week.

tomorrow makes so many promises
are they empty just like a politician’s
or will tomorrow keep its word
and we’ll realize in the morning
that this is the better life - we’re living it
and nothing do we lack, no nothing at all
a bigger house, more money in the bank
couldn’t add a thing to all we’ve got.

(That’s from the song “Far From Today” on Arthur’s CD “Under the Gray.”)

And if you’d like to sign up to slap Ron in the face, send me an email and we’ll see what we can work out.

I called my mom on the way to work this morning to make sure she read my last blog post about conversations with a 7 year-old.  She said that she had already seen it because she checks my web site every morning to see if I posted anything.

That means Mom has read a whole lot of geek stuff, concert information, and music reviews that she probably didn’t care about.  I figured that deserves a little shout out from the blog, so here are a few things about my mom you may not know:

• She ate a whole medium pizza the night before I was born.  We believe this explains my fondness of pizza.
• She worked many, many hours to help support the family so that my dad could get all the way through college.  He did the undergrad and the Masters thing, so you know that was a lot of hours.
• She has a scar on her elbow that is from where I accidentally tripped her in a parking lot many years ago.  (I was trying to help her carry something heavy, but apparently I wasn’t helping.)
• She is weeks away from receiving her 3rd car courtesy of Mary Kay, and she hasn’t had a car payment in 5 (maybe 6) years.
• She was awoken in the middle of the night by shouts of joy from Dad and me on October 14, 1992 (1992 NLCS Game 7, the night Sid Bream came home) and didn’t even get mad.
• She once killed a snake with a baseball bat.  Yes, really.
• She brought me into this world, and she can take me back out.

Recently, I posted a conversation with my 3 year-old son. Tonight, I had a chat with my 7 year-old daughter. This conversation, like the one with my boy, actually happened.

Ron: Do you know who my 6th grade teacher was?

Her: No. Who?

Ron: Your Pappy was.

Her: Really?

Ron: Yup.

Her: Cool.

Ron: Do you think it would be cool if I were your teacher?

Her: Yeah!

Ron: Well that isn’t going to happen. It takes a very special kind of person to be a teacher.

Her: Yeah, you have to be smart.

Ron: *sigh*

It’s been a long summer. If you don’t believe me, you can ask my wife (or any of the wives of my co-workers, for that matter). I started a new job in February. Things ramped up at work until around May, then things got busy.

We picked up speed through June, and then through July and August, it wasn’t uncommon for us to be working 18-hour days. I even had the opportunity to do some of that work over a 2-week period in Melbourne, Australia.

The end result of this crazy summer is that we are part of the Australian Government’s NetAlert program, which makes internet filtering software available for free to Australians. You can read the press release about it here.

We’ve mostly wrapped up the work for the launch of that project, and we needed a way to celebrate. Last night we had that celebration.

Shane and I brought the “Aussome Burger” back from down under, so we wanted to share that “aussomeness” with the rest of the gang. Additionally, we had giant prawns and grilled kangaroo.

Al Zeigler from Zeigler’s BBQ (official caterer of InternetSafety.com) did the cooking for us, and he did a splendid job. He had never cooked kangaroo before, but (being the catering pro that he is) he had it grilled to perfection. The prawns were marinated in a marinade that our mate in Australia sent us. And the burgers…well they were great. We also had the (amazing) side choices from Zeigler’s.

After we consumed pound after pound of animal protein (mmmmm…), we moved on to dessert. Alecia is one of the wives of the co-workers, and she handled the desserts. If you’ll take a look at her MySpace page, you’ll see pictures of some of the things she has made. What’s crazy is that her treats taste even better than they look. She made a cake that was all 8 letters of the words “Safe Eyes.” It was probably 4 feet long.

Throughout the night, we enjoyed the DJ talents of G-side, whose day job is managing our customer service department. He did a great job mixing in all of the terrible songs we requested. Yes, the bad requests were intentional attempts at humor; nobody would seriously request Celine Dion (I hope).

The night was a good time, but for me (and I suspect for those guys that I work closely with) it was more of an emotional release. There’s some normality in life now, and we welcome it with open arms - and a full stomach.

When Shane and I were in Melbourne, Australia last month, I said something about how many items from “the list” could be crossed off.  You know the list…the “things I’ve just got to get done before I die” list.

I didn’t have an official list in writing, but I have always had a mental list of things to do before I’m gone.  Some of the items that came off “the list” during my Australia trip were:

• See the Pacific Ocean
• Cross the International Date Line
• Visit Australia
• Go Skiing
• Eat Kangaroo
• Visit a foreign country (other than Canada)

What’s on your list?

My son Brett is in Awana Cubbies this year. He’s thrilled. He wanted to be in the club last year, but he missed the birthday cutoff by about 6 weeks. Tonight we were doing “Bear Hug 1″ in his book. It was about God and love. This dialog, I swear, is almost verbatim.

Ron: It says we need to write down 5 people that God loves.

Brett: Cookie Monster!

Ron: Cookie Monster isn’t a person. It says “people.”

Brett: Um…monkeys!

Ron: Monkeys aren’t people either.

Brett: Thomas! (he meant Thomas the train)

Ron: No, Brett. It says to write down 5 people that God loves. Who are some people that God loves?

Brett: Daddy!

Ron: Yes! Who else?

Brett: Bailey! (Bailey is our cat.)

Ron: No, buddy. People. We already have “Daddy” on here. Who else?

Brett: Mommy! Kaitlyn!

Ron: Yes, yes! Ok. We need 2 more people that God loves.

Brett: Baseball!

Ron: Is a baseball a person?

Brett: Baseball players?

Ron: Yes…who is a baseball player?

Brett: Chipper Jones!

Ron: Yes, God loves Chipper Jones. One more.

(Brett looks at the wallpaper border I made in his room out of Brett Butler baseball cards. Brett was named after Butler.)

Brett: (pointing at a card) Him!

Ron: Yes. What’s his name?

Brett: I don’t know.

Ron: That’s Brett Butler.

Brett: Hey…that’s my name!

Ron: *sigh*

I cooked Aussome Burgers on the barbie last night.  Burger plus cheese, bacon, bbq sauce, fried egg, and pineapple ring.

Best. Burgers. Ever.

Maybe you’ve seen him. Maybe you’ve only heard about him. He’s not easily spotted in the middle of a crowd, since he is typically dressed in Buller Sports rental gear. On the slopes, however, he’s nearly impossible to miss.

Fighting gravity all the way down Mt. Buller, he has been spotted making some of the most magnificent falls man have ever seen. While snowboarding amateurs may fall over or crash into ski lift poles, The Legend carefully maneuvers his way around obstacles has he tumbles toward the bottom of the mountain.

He has even been known to draw applause from skiers on the lifts above him as he breaks into his magnificent wipeouts. Some estimate he can travel up to 30 meters on one fall. A skill set to match The Legend has not, nor will it ever, been found on Mt. Buller.

On my recent trip to Mt. Buller, I happened to get a chance to meet The Legend. He was a man of few words, but he was kind enough to pose for a picture. Look into those eyes. Yes, those are the eyes of a legend.