I Spy the Eyeguy

A small minority of Fusioneers are apparently starting to clamor for an Eyeguy sighting. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why, but facts are facts.

I tried to give readers an idea of what I looked like here. I even dropped another not-so-subtle hint here (Quick! Somebody slather that boy’s head with Dippity Do!). But apparently even those weren’t enough.

Alright already. I’ve hesitated to post this because I really try hard not to rub it in. But remember, you asked for it.

Here I am.

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Archives

One of my favorite parts about visiting my Mom in Virginia is exploring the museum that is her house and searching among the archives and exhibits for long lost treasures.

Among the items that I’ve found (and rescued) in the past:

  • My collection of Matchbox and Hot Wheels cars (unfortunately, I couldn’t locate the Hot Wheels Supercharger Sprint Set)
  • My baseball and sports card collection (and it is a very good one if I have to say so myself)
  • My scrapbooks from elementary, junior high and high school which contain old class pictures and portraits, 4-H and church camp ribbons, newspaper clippings containing my super-amazing, jaw-dropping feats on the tennis courts and cross country trails (heh), my acceptance letter to Duke University and goofy letters from an old high school girlfriend which still hold the slightest hint of perfume.
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The Grim Reap-Purr

I’ve never been much for cats. When I see one headed in my direction, I usually head in the opposite one (they make me sneeze and wheeze). Now I have one more good reason. Man, this Oscar makes that other one look like a real pansy.

The Grim Reap-Purr–it figures. Now I’m confident that there’s a perfectly rational and natural explanation for this one. But still, isn’t it fun to wallow in a good mystery every now and then, even for a little while?

Somebody should tell Daniel Engber that, the little scientific snot.

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Time to Move On

On the way to Roanoke last week, we took a turn on 460 West for a short side trip to Blacksburg and the campus of Virginia Tech. I had planned to walk the drill field area, check out any remaining memorials and perhaps take a picture of Norris Hall and post it here. But it was a gray, overcast day and spitting rain. The thought occurred to me that the weather was merely reflecting the sorrow and the tears that were still being shed in that place.

As we drove around the drill field, we noted that the spontaneous memorials had been removed, replaced instead by a permanent one currently under construction in front of Burruss Hall.… Read the rest

Traveling Mercies

First, the good news: The 1998 Toyota Sienna van with over 165,000 miles which I duct-taped together for the ride to Virginia survived the trip up and back.

And now the bad: The air conditioner did not.

In fact, the air conditioner went out about two hours into the trip on the way up. But thankfully, it was overcast and cool once we hit the mountains in east Tennessee, so it didn’t really matter. It even stayed relatively cool for July during our visit.

But the trip back yesterday evoked way too many memories of those hot retro rides from the 1960s–the choking exhaust fumes, the jarring sound of air brakes, the wet cling of the clothes, the rush of hot air through your hair and into your ears.… Read the rest

Almost Heaven? Not Quite

Yesterday’s post on cars sure got Fusion followers waxing nostalgic. If you haven’t weighed in with your earliest car memories, then please feel free to do so. Hal did, and just to bring the point home, so to speak, he sent us a picture of the now-famous ’66 Plymouth Valiant, customized for those long cattle drives home along congested Houston freeways:

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Today, I’m duct-taping together a 10-year-old Toyota van with 165,000 miles on it, saying a prayer, and heading to the Land of No Computers, a place where the electronics are still circa 1975 (and I’m not taking a laptop). That’s right, we’re off to grandma’s house in Virginia.… Read the rest

Grace, Raw and Uncensored

Grace can take a myriad of forms, but for a 16-year-old male who suddenly beholds the set of wheels that he has longed for all his life, this is Grace, raw and uncensored:

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When he was about 4-years-old, I recall taking Number Two Son to an outdoor store in Bowling Green, Kentucky where he spied the ride of his dreams: a colorful mountain bike that was several sizes too large. He just couldn’t conceive of why he couldn’t simply drive it off the lot, and he cried huge, Cadillac-sized tears. My heart broke a little bit watching that, but I hoped the day would come when that would be replaced with a scene like that above and those tears would be a distant memory.… Read the rest

Good Fences Make Bad Neighbors

For the most part, we’ve enjoyed our neighbors over the years and had good relations with them. But there’s always the exception. Like the septuagenarian widow next door who from the moment we moved in 12 years ago has viewed us at best as a modern-day reincarnation of the Adams Family and at worst as a clan of pesky rodents dead set on ruining her pristine, picture-perfect Southern Living magazine house and showcase yard.

Over the years, she’s accused us of various neighborly transgressions including damaging her sprinkler heads while mowing the property line (she actually has one sprinkler head on our property, and it’s never been damaged), mowing too far onto her property, not caring about or keeping a showcase lawn like hers (guilty!),… Read the rest

Harry Potter 1, David Beckham 0

Potter v. Beckham:

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Are you ready to rumblllllle?!

Actually, with Potter already rolling across the internet and Becks hobbled by a bum left ankle and unlikely to see action v. Chelsea, this one was over before the opening whistle. Maybe Becks should consider taking up Quidditch. Less stress on the joints and all.

Final Score: Harry Potter 1, David Beckham 0

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Hannah Montana 1, War 0

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July means church soccer camp and that in turn means that our children’s minister will be calling me again to see if I would be willing to coach. I tell him what I tell him every year, that I really am retired this time, and I go into medical textbook detail about the scar tissue around my L5-S1 vertebrae and how I can run in a straight line reasonably well, but add the constant start and stop plus the twisting, lateral movements of your typical children’s soccer camp and it’s Sciatica City for me. On and on it goes, year in and year out.… Read the rest

Tunnel Vision, Man

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The following conversation recently took place in a local health care provider’s office. All names have been deleted in order to protect confidentiality and the sacred bong bond between doctor and patient:

Patient (hereafter referred to as “P”): “Doc, I’ve been havin’ these spells of tunnel vision, man.”

Doctor (hereafter referred to as “D”): “In one eye or both eyes?”

P: “Both.”

D: “How long has this been going on?”

P: “Oh, at least 5 or 6 years.” (translation: So long that he can’t really remember)

D: “How often does this happen?”

P: “Um, hard to say, pretty often I guess.”… Read the rest