Bryce Moore's Blog, page 221

End of School

Summer vacation is upon us, hard as that may be to believe. TRC and DC are through with fourth grade and kindergarten, respectively. I had a chance to see their report cards yesterday when they came home, and they were both stellar. This isn’t really intended as a bragging post or anything, but I also felt like I had to note how, despite all the other stuff that goes on in my life all the time, much of my life is made much simpler by having children who are so well-behaved and well-intentioned.

Both kids have gotten quite a few requests for play dates over the summer, and while we’re quite territorial about our kids (we’d rather they spend time with us at home than out gallivanting about town with other people), it’s flattering to know they’re in hot demand.

I feel like a lot of the credit for this honestly goes to TRC. He’s a great example to his siblings. A kid who genuinely wants to make good decisions. That makes a huge difference in a family, I think. (Though I recognize that I’m still learning the ropes when it comes to older kids. He’s only 10, after all. I keep hearing the “just wait until they’re teenagers” line, and I watch my kids with some apprehension, dreading the day when suddenly they don’t want to be helpful anymore. When they start being “teens” and stop being my kids. At the same time, I can’t help but think that’s not how it works. It’s not like they wake up one morning, magically turned into monsters. Everyone warned us as new parents that our children wouldn’t sleep through the night for six months, or a year, or more. And yet out kids slept through the night by 6 or 8 weeks, all of them. What I mean to say is that it seems each person speaks from his or her own experience. I respect that experience (especially when I have none of own), but I also recognize that hard and fast rules for one person might turn out to be based on a very small sample size, and that should be taken into account when listening to the advice in question.)

In any case, my children are still great kids, and I hope they remain such for years to come.

We had a cookout last night to celebrate (and watched the USA/Ghana soccer match for some extra pizzazz). The kids (all three of them) are enrolled in the summer reading program, and they’re busily making their way through books. Also on the agenda this summer? Trips to Utah, swim lessons, tennis lessons, a few hikes, late nights, and plenty of wasted time. Because a summer without time where you’re just sitting around doing nothing at all is no summer in my book.

Of course, as an adult, I don’t get summer vacation. But I can at least live vicariously through my kids. That’s what they’re there for, right?

So bring on summer, because the sooner it’s done, the sooner fall and winter come back.

Choosing the Oboe

Interesting times in the Bryce household last week. I found out it was time for TRC to choose what instrument he’d be playing next year in school. First, some background: in our school district, all students spend half of their third grade year learning the violin. Pretty cool. Thumbs up from me on that, even though I’ve never been much of a stringed instrument sort of a fellow. (Well, not counting guitar.) In fourth grade, they have the option of violin, viola, or cello. TRC chose to stick with violin.

He’s been practicing regularly the past year (it helps that he’s not allowed to play video games or watch TV before his music practice is done). And I think he enjoys it. But now, band was opening up. Band! He could go with saxophone, flute, clarinet, trumpet–a whole slew of instruments.

I hadn’t realized up until this point that I had always assumed he’d pick a band instrument eventually. Just like his old man. I don’t know why I assumed this, but there it was. Suddenly, it was important to me for inexplicable reasons that he ditch that violin and go with something awesome. Like the saxophone. Or the oboe. (More on that in a bit.) But when Denisa and I asked him what he wanted to do, he said he wanted to stick with violin.

Friends, what followed was a week-long musical version of Green Eggs and Ham. I own a tenor sax, a trombone, and a clarinet. I spent time with him each day introducing him to the basics of the types of instruments. He thought they were interesting, but he didn’t like brass instruments (they made his lips feel tingly), and clarinet and sax were too tricky. (Maybe tenor was too big for his hands. Sigh.) Undeterred, I found all sorts of awesome jazz songs to play for him. Songs I loved. And I talked about how you just couldn’t do that stuff on a violin.

He thought they sounded a lot like MarioKart music, which was cool and all, but not enough to sway him from his decision.

In the end, he stuck with violin. I made a last ditch effort to at least get him to go with trying out string bass, but it was all for naught.

Violin it is!

I’m at peace with the decision. It’s not like it was really that big of a deal, and violin’s a perfectly respectable instrument. But all this discussion made me think back on my own path to picking an instrument. I don’t remember what grade it was. Fourth? Third? Not sure. But I remember when the time came to choose an instrument, I looked at the offerings. Trumpets. Altos. Clarinets. (No way was I picking a flute.) Drums.

What did I do?

I picked the one no one else wanted to play. The oboe. It was different. Wildly different.

And as I’ve thought about that decision, I’ve begun to wonder if some of my long-seated assumptions about myself as a human being have been off target. (I know–who knew so much could be deduced from a decision in third or fourth grade. Hear me out.)

For quite some time, I’ve felt like who I was as a person didn’t really begin to emerge until college. High school showed some glimpses here and there, but I still considered myself in hindsight to be quiet and withdrawn. These days, I’m fairly outspoken and open about anything. Sure, I was in drama in high school, but . . . my mental picture of myself was still that of a quiet introvert.

Picking the oboe in third grade doesn’t jive with this mental picture. Picking the oboe is something the “now-me” would do. You can’t hide an oboe in an elementary school orchestra. You’re the one sounding like a duck’s being tortured throughout every piece. Any note you play is an outspoken solo. They might as well put a spotlight on you the whole time.

I remember being incredibly self-conscious of that oboe and that sound. But I also remember not wanting to change to a different instrument. My brother played sax, and I looked at that sea of saxophones and liked that fact that I was different. That was important to me, even then. And when an opportunity opened up to switch instruments, I didn’t shrink back: I doubled down. I went from the funny looking oboe that could at least be mistaken for a clarinet from the audience to what? The bassoon. It don’t get funnier looking that that, folks.

So what made me want to pick the oboe back then? Maybe it’s because the “now-me” and the “then-me” really aren’t so different after all.

Food for thought for me this week, that’s for sure.

In any case, go TRC. Yay violins! I’m just happy he likes playing music. That’s a big thing for me, even if it means we’ll have one less woodwind in my house. (Alas . . .)

How about you. Did you play an instrument in elementary school? Does your choice say anything about the sort of person you became? Do share . . .

In Which I Eat a Kumquat

I like to follow up controversial posts that generate tons of conversations and debates with something that gives us all a break from the drama. This is more for me than for you, really. It takes a lot of attention and time to keep on top of a really rollicking Facebook debate, even though it’s something I clearly enjoy–otherwise I would have shut up a long time ago. In any case, bring on the fluff!

I’ve been talking about kumquats my whole life, but I never actually ate one until Denisa decided to bring home a pack from the store earlier this week. I don’t know what I really expected. Something like a date, maybe? Or a grape? No idea. They were just some exotic food with a strange name I liked to say now and then to be funny. “You’re such a little kumquat” is a lovely insult. Much funnier than “You’re such an apple.”

Kumquats are much closer to oranges and lemons than they are to grapes and dates, although they’re about the size of grapes. The really bizarre thing about them is that you don’t peel them. You pop the whole thing in your mouth, and it tastes about how you’d expect an orange to taste if you bit into it, peel and all.

Quite bitter, but after a little, you taste the sweet part of it, too. I tried peeling one, just to see if I could get only the sweet and avoid the bitter, but both flavors seemed to be throughout the pulp and the rind. You can’t separate them out, it seems.

Did I like it? I’m not entirely sure. It was different and strange, and I had about ten or twelve of them before I stopped. So I didn’t dislike it, but I also don’t think I’d ever be walking along in the grocery store and buy a pack on impulse. Perhaps that’s a good way of determining if you really like something or not–if you’d do it for no other reason than to do it. I’d eat one if it were placed in front of me, but I wouldn’t seek one out.

How about you? Was I just one of the few kumquat virgins in the world? (A sentence I never thought I’d be writing.) Have you had them? Want to try them? Do share!

And have a lovely weekend.

Pick Your Trenches Carefully

I’ve been reading a slew of discussion over the recently announced disciplinary councils that are to take place for a couple of outspoken Mormons. Hard not to notice it, when the New York Times is running a piece. I’m not familiar with Dehlin, but Kelly is the founder of the Ordain Women movement, and seeing as how I wrote a post that caused no small amount of discussion (along with a follow up piece), I don’t feel like I can entirely stay silent at this point in time, even if the thought of having to patrol another Facebook conversation like the last one leaves me shaking in my boots.

However.

One thing I’m not going to do is talk about what I think should happen in either of these situations. Because I recognize one important fact: I don’t know the people involved. I don’t know the bishops or stake presidents. I don’t know Kelly or Dehlin. All I know is what I’ve read, and when it comes to situations like these, I know inevitably one side gets represented better than the other. The church won’t–and shouldn’t–comment on these processes. Kelly and Dehlin are welcome to–it’s their own privacy to do with as they wish. I hope they will represent things fairly, but I also recognize that when things have gotten to this point, the views on both sides often get to a place where neither side can really truly hear the other, let alone listen to them.

What I’m saying is that there are two sides to every story, and this is one area where I won’t comment because I don’t like to speak out of ignorance.

That said, there are some things I feel very confident saying. First up, anyone who’s taking joy or gloating in the fact that Kelly is facing this process is someone I’d really like to backhand. Repeatedly. Excommunication is a very big thing, and it’s something no one should be happy about. I still hope that the situation can be diffused, but perhaps I’m overly optimistic. I know this: there are definitely people who care a great deal about the things Kelly and Dehlin have been standing for. Those emotions are valid, and because they’re so raw right now, I know this is going to be incredibly difficult for many.

A true Christian wouldn’t take pleasure in that pain. Now isn’t the time to say “I told you so” or any of its variants.

But as I watch this unfold, the thing that keeps coming to my mind is an opinion I’ve had for quite some time:

Pick your trenches carefully.

Robert Frost wrote that “something there is that doesn’t love a wall,” and I love that poem, but it’s not quite what I’m talking about here. Walls are too simple. Too noble. You’ve got castle walls that bring to mind the age of chivalry and honorable battle.

Trenches are a different story. When I think of the terrors of war, one of the worst thing I can imagine is trench warfare. Both sides dug into a long drawn out battle where heavy losses are guaranteed on both sides, and the war will take forever as it proceeds trench by painful trench. It brings to mind another poem: In Flanders Fields.

The thing about a trench is, it can be put pretty much anywhere. Before the trench is dug, you’re standing in nothing more than an open field. Once the trench is there, then you’re rooted down, ready to fight to the bitter end.

This happens in arguments all the time. Two sides disagree, and before you know it, they’re both entrenched and waging full blown war. It’s much easier to have constructive discussion when people don’t dig those trenches in the first place. The same goes for politics–Republicans or Democrats dig in and decide they have to repel all boarders. When the turf war becomes more important than the turf, you’ve got some serious problems.

I’m not going to say that it isn’t worth it sometimes. There are some areas where I’ve certainly dug in trenches and decided that certain lines are not to be crossed. Family time is something I’m very protective about, and I’ve been known to be fiercely protective of my family or friends. But whenever I can, I try to keep an open mind and remember that discussion, debate, and argument don’t always equate to personal attacks and slander. I can be wrong about something and still be a good person. Other people deserve the same right.

It’s often easier to discuss the concept using examples that aren’t as inflammatory. Case in point: my love for the Yankees. I’ve always been a Yankee fan, but until I moved to Maine, it was more of a part-time affair. I wasn’t hugely into baseball, but I’d follow the team tangentially. Then I moved to Maine, and people were attacking my team constantly. Basically I found myself in the middle of a trench war. What happened? I dug a trench and became a stauncher Yankee fan.

But remember that trenches are artificial constructs. Before they are dug, there’s nothing but green fields and sunshine. A foot or two one way or another in an open field doesn’t seem like it means much. Certainly not enough to die over. Once the trenches are in place, however, it’s a much different story.

I’ve spoken out in favor of more equality in the church. It’s a stance I continue to hold. But I’m far from being the mindset that the debate has to focus on a single trench. Women and the priesthood? The conversation misses the point for me, though I can see how it would be very symbolic for some. The rhetoric in the Ordain Women movement has been very strong: from what I’ve read, they’d like the prophet to come out with a simple answer. “I’ve prayed about this, brought it to the Lord, and I’ve been told _________.”

Unfortunately, God doesn’t always work the way we’d like Him to. Instead of assuming the first presidency and twelve apostles are just constantly blowing these women off, can’t we assume they’re earnestly trying to make the best choices and decisions, always with the input of the Holy Ghost whenever possible? I’d be stunned–stunned–to find out they hadn’t prayed about this matter and how to deal with it extensively. The way they have responded–through spokespeople and letters–is how they’ve felt inspired to respond.

I’ve served in leadership positions in the church. I’ve irritated my fair share of ward members. No, it’s not on a global scale, but I’ve at least got a bit of experience to speak from. I’ve spoken to a lot of leaders who have served even higher up. And here’s the secret I’ve found out so far: you never get a secret decoder ring that makes it all easier. I remember on my mission when I got my first assignment for which city and companion I’d serve with. As far as I was concerned, God Himself had come down and personally told my mission president in a face to face meeting what I should be doing and where I was supposed to serve.

This was divine inspiration, people.

And then at the end of my mission, I was an assistant to the president. I was one of the people involved in making those decisions. And there were no choirs invisible. No pillars of light. Nothing but me, the other assistant, and the president, staring at a board filled with the pictures of missionaries and their current assignments. There was a lot of prayer and contemplation, but it was no different a process than the one I go through now when I’m trying to make decisions about what I should do with my life or my family.

So when church leaders make blunders or do things that don’t make a ton of sense, can we remember that they’re people, almost all of which are trying to do the best they can with the challenges that have been placed before them? That’s true right on up the chain of command. It’s also true about church members. We preach about how important personal revelation is, and then we pounce on people if they start getting revelation we feel is “bad.” It’s one thing to be the person or people involved and to have an opinion about the matter. But to be only tangentially related to the situation and think you know enough to form a solid opinion? I don’t think so.

Do they (church leaders and church members alike) make mistakes? Yes, they do. All the more reason to avoid those trenches. Because once that trench is in place, it’s really difficult to admit to yourself that you maybe shouldn’t have dug it in the first place.

This isn’t Axis and Allies, people. These are lives and souls. Don’t choose to dig a trench if you don’t have to, and don’t force the other side to dig a trench if you can avoid it.

And that’s about all I have to say about that for now. I’ll leave this with a warning: I will be patrolling my Facebook feed and the comments section of this post with a big ol’ bazooka. I don’t mind people discussing ideas and the post. I encourage it, believe it or not. But so help anyone if they start throwing rocks in either direction. As with most issues, I have dear friends on both sides. I will defend both if I need to.

Can We Just Do Away with Lobbyists, Please?

I’ll be the first to admit I’m on the dense side about some things. It can take a while sometimes for me to really understand how things work–if I ever understand them at all. (Auto mechanics remains outside my ken, though I’ll also admit I haven’t tried terribly hard to understand it. The wizard waves his wand, and the car works again. It might as well operate by house elf, for all I understand how my mechanic fixes things under the hood.)

But in any case, one thing (among many) that’s been frustrating me lately is all the talk about the power lobbyists have in government. First, the disclaimer: I’m not entirely sure I understand what it is lobbyists do. Maybe I’m oversimplifying things, and even my ninja googling skills haven’t brought it to light. But from what I understand, lobbyists exist and succeed because our legislators are too __________ to figure things out on their own. (I’ll let you fill in that blank. You may use one word–or more!)

And some of that makes sense. We don’t elect officials based on their expertise in climate science or economics or whatever. We elect them because hopefully they’re smart enough to weigh the issues out in their minds and come to informed, good decisions about what to do and how to vote. (At least, that’s how I choose to elect people. I suppose others don’t always follow my lead on that one.)

This is why I get grumpy whenever I hear about how the government’s run by lobbyists, and how helpless the little guys are when they have to go up against the NRA or the teacher’s union or some other huge group. Because to me, that places the blame on the people pumping out the disinformation.

I hear garbage information every day. It’s all over television and the web. It’s all over Facebook. But it’s up to me to weigh that information and decide what to listen to and what to ignore. What things make sense and what things don’t. I do the same thing as a librarian. I teach people how to look at a source and decide how credible it is or not.

These are basic, fundamental life skills these days, as far as I’m concerned.

So why can’t we expect our legislators and politicians to have them?

Lobbyists are only as highly paid as they are because they’re successful in changing the minds of politicians. Wouldn’t it be nice if we approached legislation in a similar fashion to the way we approach the law? Let all sides come and make their case before the legislators. You wouldn’t give the defense twice as much time as the prosecution–or vice versa–your verdict would be tossed out on its proverbial ear. (Note: I’m not a lawyer. I hope I’m making correct assumptions here.) Our legal system seems to be set up to allow people to make arguments and then make rational decisions about those arguments.

Congress seems more like Hungry Hungry Hippos.

So I’m asking you, the internet at large, to explain to me why it has to be like this. Can something be done to change it? Because I don’t like feeling like we as a nation are powerless to change something that makes so little sense and seems like such an easy choice: eliminate lobbyists, or rein them in somehow.

Now, please tell me what I’m missing in this picture.

What are Some of Your Plot Pet Peeves?

I’m in the middle of the second book of The Powder Mage trilogy (The Crimson Campaign, by Brian McClellan), and I’m really enjoying it. High military fantasy action and adventure, with a great sprawling plot and less incest than George RR. Highly recommended.

However, one of the plot lines is bugging me–and in a good way, I suppose. I mean, anytime an author is writing characters well enough that I start to get mad at the characters for what’s happening, you can tell the author is doing something right. But at the same time, it’s something I don’t think I could ever do as an author. Not yet, at least. It’s just too big of a pet peeve for me.

In this instance, it’s characters who are facing tons of problems because of the stupidity of other characters. This is something that got to me during the Wheel of Time series, too. Those lousy Aes Sedai would do such boneheaded things, making problems for so many other people because of their stupidity, that I just would get fed up with them. In McClellan’s book, there’s a huge contingent of the military that’s being way too . . . military. And it’s costing one of the main characters–and the entire war effort–severely.

I hates it.

At the same time, I recognize that this happens in reality all too often. Other people make mistakes, and innocent people end up having to pay the price for them. So why in reality do I just accept it and try to make the best out of it, while in fiction it sends me into a rage every time it happens? It’s a pet peeve. Who knows why? But I just can’t see myself writing a book where the main character has to go through all sorts of stupidity foisted on him by others. I couldn’t make it through writing a chapter, let alone a novel.

So I wondered if there are some plot arcs that drive other people up the wall. Something that happens in a book that you just hate whenever it happens, even while you recognize that you’re being irrational and odd for hating it. Give me some other examples, if you have any.

Or am I just strange?

Jogging for Fun and Profit

Okay, folks. Time to get real here. Back in January at the beginning of the month, I was just getting over another long round of being sick. Since I had nothing better to do, I sat down with my journal and I went over how many days in 2013 I was sick. Not just sniffly sick or tired sick–sick to the point I had to miss work and stay in bed because I felt awful. That kind of sick. And the sad truth was that it had been something like thirty days. Maybe a bit more. I remember coming to the conclusion that I’d been sick one entire month of the year. I don’t know about most people, but that seemed like an awful lot of time to be sick to me. It basically meant that every three months I was sick for a week–if you go by straight-up averages. Every month and a half I was sick for half a week.

Not good.

I’d tried dieting. I’d gotten my weight down to what was supposed to be healthy, and it just hadn’t worked. I felt better about the way I looked, but my health was still just not good enough. So I decided I had to start doing something more than just eating less. I had to actually try to exercise some. Because it was winter and it was snowy outside, I knew jogging was out. I also knew from experience that anything that involved me having to do much prep work at all was something that wasn’t going to fly. Basically, it had to be something that I could do anytime, anywhere, easily.

You’ll remember I chose jogging in place.

The goal was simple: do something that gets my heart rate up for about a half hour, every day. This wasn’t supposed to make me lose weight or make me into a lean, mean, fighting machine. It was just a goal to get healthier. I’d read an article that said NFL players hardly ever get sick during the season, and it attributed that to how much they exercised. This wasn’t rocket science.

It’s now mid-June. Since I started jogging in place, I haven’t gotten seriously sick one time. (I realize I’m cursing myself as I write this, but what can you do? I had to share . . .) There have been a few times when I’ve began to feel sick. Once or twice when I stayed home from work because I wanted to nip something in the bud before it got out of hand. But there hasn’t been one time when I’ve had to just be lying in bed for days at a time. (Well, other than when I threw my back out a bit ago–but again, that’s something else entirely.) If I was going by the numbers of last year, I should have had three bouts of three or four day long illnesses, or one or two week-long affairs.

But not once.

And I haven’t even had to miss jogging in place for a day, either. I take Sundays off, but I’ve kept at the goal consistently. It’s just what I wanted it to be: easy to do, takes no extra time (I can do it while I watch movies or tv with the kids), and ready at a moment’s notice.

Better yet, I’ve felt better. I haven’t just not been sick, I’ve felt healthier. This isn’t as easy to keep track of sometimes, but there are some simple ways to tell. The most obvious is the fact that I’ve suddenly found the desire on some days to do more exercise. The 7 minute routine, for example (which I’ve started doing a few times a week, despite my first experience with it). And Saturday, I suddenly decided to Forrest Gump it down my road just to see how far I could jog without giving up. I haven’t jogged since my mission, when I tried it about five times and never did it again.

But I knew I’d been working my lungs some with all this jogging in place and I wanted to see if it was doing me any good. TRC volunteered to come along and bike while I jogged, so I stretched a bit, put on some sneakers, and set off. Honestly, I thought when I set out that I’d be lucky to get a half mile before I had to rest. I live by a fairly quiet road, and I know from experience how far it is to certain spots along it. I made it a half mile going at a slow but steady pace, and I still wasn’t breathing too badly, so I decided to keep going. And going. A mile and four tenths in, I still wasn’t tired, and I’d reached as far as I thought I wanted to go that day (round trips, you know), so I turned around and continued jogging back, thinking I’d give up and start walking any minute.

I never had to.

I ended up jogging 2.8 miles in 35 minutes. Hardly a record-setting pace, but for my first time jogging in  . . . 15 years? Clearly that lung exercise of jogging in place for the past 5 months has had some effect.

Will I start jogging every day now? Probably not. I’ll definitely continue to jog in place, because I really believe that it’s having an effect. And if I have time to go for a real jog, I think I will. It was pleasant weather, and Maine is a lovely place to be outside. The path I took has some small ups and downs, and seemed like a good match to my (non-existent) skill level. The big thing holding me back from a long term commitment is time. Then again, if I enjoy it and it relieves stress, I will likely be doing it more often. (I certainly have more than enough stress to go around at the moment)

But regardless, I was both surprised at my inexplicable desire to try out a jog and pleased with the results. Here’s to more health in the future, both in a continued decrease in the days I’m sick and a general increase in how I feel overall every day.

The Luxury of Free Time

I’m sitting here writing this the night before you’ll be reading it, as is often the case with my blog. (No time to blog during lunches these days, so I have to get ahead during other free time.) And it occurred to me that, while I might feel very busy at the moment, in reality, I’m still blessed with two key things for happiness: some free time and the things I need to fill that time the way I see fit.

It helps that I don’t really have outrageous wants. I mean, when left to my own devices, the things I want to do are watch movies, read books, and write books–not necessarily in that order. Those things don’t cost much money. Netflix provides me with pretty much all the media I’d ever want to watch. Libraries get me books. And writing is free. Spending time with my family, also free.

Sometimes it’s too easy to forget the small simple things that lie underneath everything else I have going on in my life, and I just wanted to take a moment to recognize them. Taken as a whole, the life I lead is one that most people throughout history would be quite envious of, really. I mean, I’ve been to palaces and castles, and I’ve seen how the kings and queens used to live it up. They can keep it. I’ll take my air conditioning, my internet, my media, my family, and my nights and weekends where I get to do what I please.

Of course, as I wrote all this, I was feeling happy for my family, who got to go to the pool and swim for a while. And now in the middle of typing, I just heard from them: they swam for five minutes until another kid at the pool peed or pooped (both? details are sketchy) in said pool, and the whole thing got closed down for the rest of the day.

So I’m tweaking the moral of my post for today. Instead, it’s this: enjoy the small details that make life awesome, because you never know when you’re pool’s going to get pooped in. Words to live by, friends. Words to live by. (And bonus points to you if you get the connection between that moral and the picture for this post.)

Root Canal Hokey Pokey

Some of you will recall that TRC knocked out his front tooth ice skating back during the winter. And if you’ve seen him in person lately, you’ll no doubt notice that the tooth is still gone. It’s been quite an ordeal to figure out what’s going to happen here. We initially took him in to have a temporary cap placed on the remaining part of the tooth, and the dentist looked at it and told him he’d need a root canal. Once that was done, the plan was to put in a post and attache a temporary crown-like object to tide him over until he’s big enough to get a real crown.

Fair enough.

So we took TRC down to a specialist for the root canal. TRC was more than a bit apprehensive, as you might imagine. But after arriving and taking x-rays. the specialist told us that TRC doesn’t need a root canal just yet. The root appeared to still be alive, and he wanted to leave it be.

I am not a dentist. When dentists tell me to do things, I’m programmed to do them. So Denisa and I said okay, and headed home.

Then the cap on TRC’s tooth fell off. We took him back to our dentist to get it fixed, and he asked, “Why in the world hasn’t the root canal been done yet so I can fix the hole in TRC’s mouth?”

We explained the situation, and he took another x-ray and told us the root had started to abscess (which sounds awful) and sent us back to the specialist again with stern instructions that this had to happen soon. Queue the apprehension for TRC again. This week, we took him down to the specialist again, to get the root canal done *for reals*.

And after getting there and having it x-rayed, it turns out the specialist is convinced we still need to wait. Apparently the root is still growing, and the longer we let it grow, the stronger that root becomes. The fear is that if we kill it now, the whole root will crack when the post gets put in, so better to wait and let it mature as much as possible. So we told the specialist and our dentist that we’ll be hosting a cage match between the two of them sometime next week, and the last dental professional standing wins.

Not really. But we’re waiting again, and hoping TRC might possibly have gained some superpowers after repeated exposure to X-rays. In the meantime, if you see TRC smile and notice something’s missing, you’ll know why.

It was from a bar fight.

X Men: Days of Future Past Review

Sometimes you just have to go to the movies. Sit in a theater, relax, and forget your worries for a bit. I did that a few days ago, heading to the theater by my lonesome to check out the latest X Men movie. I’d heard good things, and MC isn’t yet at the age where we’re comfortable having baby sitters in charge, so Denisa and I have been missing out on the movie scene. This was one I didn’t want to miss, so off I went.

I’ve seen many of the X Men movies. I didn’t see the third one, because I’d heard terrible things about it. I also haven’t seen the Wolverine spinoffs. But I’ve seen the first two and the prequel that came out a couple of years ago, and I’ve enjoyed them all. So if this one was getting the thumbs up from people, why not give it a shot?

It was a fun movie, and I really liked it. Wolverine goes back in time to save the X-Men? So it’s basically the plot of Free Birds, but with superheroes and better writing? Sure–why not? It felt in line with the other X Men movies I’ve seen, which is to say, not quite as light hearted as a Marvel Studios film–more broody and serious for the most part, although there were flashes of humor that were nicely done. That all said, I also felt like it was more of a comic geek’s film than many of the Marvel movies. This isn’t to say the Avengers isn’t a comic geek’s film, but rather that the Avengers is more generally accessible than this X Men movie might be to the average movie goer. The plot is fairly complex–it involves time travel and alternate histories, after all. That can get a little head-whirling at times if you aren’t used to it. I didn’t have any trouble with it, and I actually liked the complexity, but if you’re the sort of person who doesn’t like trying to remember who’s who and where they are in a timeline and what special abilities they have . . . you might like to go elsewhere for your movie ticket.

The film’s in the top 100 on IMDB at the moment, and I tend to think we’ll see that fall down significantly. It’s a fine outing, with good characters and interesting plots, but it’s not exactly the flat out most awesome movie evar. For example, Usual Suspects has an 8.7 rating on IMDB, and this X Men movie has an 8.5 at the moment. That’s just plain too high of a rating for it.

That said, when all’s said and done, I was happy to see it in the theaters, and I enjoyed it a great deal. I’d give it an 8/10. Comic and fantasy and sci-fi fans shouldn’t miss it. Good times, indeed. (It’s a movie I’d love to take TRC to. Not going to happen, since one of the main characters is a shapely completely naked blue skinned Katniss Everdeen–something the film never fails to take full advantage of whenever possible. Then again, I know a fair number of movies that could benefit from some Mystique. If she’d been the main character in Circle of Friends, for example, perhaps I would have enjoyed the movie a great deal more as a teenager. Just sayin’.)

Already seen it? Tell me what you thought.