Casey's Just Sayin'

Let me begin by saying that before last week I had not read a single word written by Kurt Vonnegut. This is strange considering how much I love science fiction, time travel and well written prose. But after I completed reading the horrible "novel that must not be named", I was desperately browsing iBooks for something decent and came across Slaughterhouse Five. It's a short novel, maybe 250 pages, published in 1969, which means as it was being created at the typewriter of Mr. V, I was being created in the womb of Mrs. F. That seems about right. I ate this novel like the last pastry at a big-boned convention. The structure and style were simple without being mundane. The story wove almost chaotically, yet purposefully about through time and place. While I was fairly positive I knew the sci-fi portion of the story - time travel and aliens - was all supposed to be in the head of the main character, one Billy Pilgrim, there left a slight shadow of doubt, just enough to want ...

In my home we have our seasons. Spring Season kicks off with my birthday, which is usually four days before the vernal equinox. It’s easy to imagine that this is a good time of year for me personally. It also really heralds the beginning of the golf season, so it’s a win-win. By the way, it never, ever rains on my birthday. Ever. Play Season usually really gets rolling around May. This is when our family begins the fairly regular migrations to the Shakespearean Festival in Ashland, Oregon. It’s a two-hour drive and the performances are spectacular, the town beautiful. My love and I have seen works from NY to San Francisco and Ashland ranks at the top. Camping Season starts as soon as the children are out of school. I’m not much of a camper, but my lady likes to take the little ones to the coast at least a couple of times a year. This season also kicks off with my love’s birthday in June. Back to School Season hits at the beginning of August. This is when we realize that summer ...

Faster than a speeding justification for bad behavior. Able to leap to self-destructive conclusions in a single round of drinks. They're absurd. They're lame! They're the Resolutes! Hearing New Year's Resolutions from someone else is a little like them telling me all the details of one of their dreams: a complete lack of perspective. Unless the person is very close to me the dreams (and the resolutions) cannot possibly be fully understood or given the proper amount of empathy. I can pretend, of course. I can say the right words, type the correct responses, wish the resolutes well. I might even quote a little Ben Franklin: "Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each new year find you a better man. " or try to be cute and go the Oscar Wilde route: "Good resolutions are simply checks that men draw on a bank where they have no account." The options are fairly endless. But it all leaves me feeling false. So, this year, I...

Christmas Eve was foggy but clear. Christmas Day was wet. But it was Christmas Day, so what the hey? This is today. No holiday. Just December 26th, a Sunday in my city, and a lot of rain in my backyard. Cheers, Casey

Eskimo Hill sits on one side of Mount Lassen, about an hour from our home and at about 5,500 feet from sea level. I've gone there since I was maybe six or seven. I'm 42 now and taking my kids there with their friends. In the picture above, my girl is on the left and my boy is on the right (lying on his back) and the three sibling buddies are in the middle. It was a good day. There were lots of smiles: Every single one of them sustained a bruise on their backside or frontside: It's really a great way to start the Winter season: They all got soaking wet by the end of the day, but we had back-up warmies in the car: And they will sleep well tonight: How do you share your childhood with your child? P.S. - Thanks very much to Rebecca at Life with Kaishon She's a master photographer of people and I totally did this post in her style.

I'm what one (one being me) might term an expert in children's television. I admit it. I'm a fan. It began a long time ago. I watched kid shows with my children in the early 90's when Nickelodeon was really starting to hit its first national stride. We'd laugh to You Can't Do That on Television reruns and the All That kid answer to SNL. We cheers for the kid contestants in Guts. The cartoons were awesome, being Doug, Rugrats, Ren and Stempy and later Rocko's Modern Life. (This is, by the way, when Saturday morning cartoons died, for which I will always grieve.) We also watched TGIF on ABC fairly religiously, thank you Miller/Boyet. The families of Full House, Step by Step and Family Matters were a part of our weekend kick-off. We also giggled to the "odd-couple" relationship in Perfect Strangers, the sly antics in Boy Meets World and the magical fun in Sabrina, the Teenage Witch. Anybody remember Teen Angel? Yeah, me neither. Maybe it w...

I was thinking today about the fact that Apple just released the Beatles entire library of music on iTunes. My first thought was COOL! My second thought was cool. My last thought was, "Hey, I already have all their CD's and any music I want on my iPod/iPad is already there." So, why would I buy them again? Just to say I did? Just to put another $13 in Steve's pocket? Just to... I can't really think of a reason. And yet I'm still tempted. Abbey Road has a little documentary on it, which would be cool to watch, I suppose. Making of the album cover or something like that. Who's going to go barefoot? Paul is dead. Number 9, Number 9, Number 9... I think I'm crossing up my albums now. Sorry about that. The funnier part of this is I'm not even that huge of a Beatles fan. I like the Beatles. But if it weren't for my love's influence and her massive fan-ness of the band I don't know that I ever would have owned a Beatles album. An...