BoWilliams.com » Family

Rarely senselessly vulgar; frequently slightly tacky

Bo — Fri, 20 Jan 2012 13:45:19 +0000

I wrote “rarely senselessly vulgar; frequently slightly tacky” early on in my blog’s life, and it’s still usually what I say when I’m asked to provide a blog description. I envisioned it mostly as a content warning, though I also liked the transposition of the syllable structure from the first phrase to the second. I thought it was a clever way to tell you up front that I might say “fuck,” but would try not to do so gratuitously.

Thing is, I don’t say “fuck” much anymore. I’ve sometimes written of the fact that I’ve never tried to be a different person online than I am in real life, and that I found it difficult not to question the motives of those who did. I don’t think it’s that. I think my change from the beginning to now represents an honest evolution in the way I do things, not that I was once pretending and now I’m not (or vice versa). I’d probably still call BoWilliams.com PG-13, but more for thematic reasons than the occasional profanity.

Still, without question, I’ve always written this blog to adults. I have only considered children stumbling upon it in terms of a combination of likelihood that they would do so, and relative severity of what they would find if they did, and have always been “societally” comfortable with what I put out there. Yet now I’m doing a lot of thinking about my own children reading it. (Thanks to a friend for germinating that seed.) It gives me great pause. My boys were 5 and 2 when I started this blog, and I never had a single thought of them reading it. (In October 2006, had I even any thought of this blog existing in 2012? Probably not.)

But it does. And now Nathan is 10. And though he is still tightly supervised online both at home and school, it won’t be long before he’ll have no trouble finding a free whirl at the web here and there. You know, it’s not that I can remember ever writing anything here I’m ashamed of. I just never considered the, say, 12- to 19-year-old version of my own son when writing. I’ve been through thoughts “out loud” here that I wouldn’t mind my adult son reading, but that might frighten or confuse him as an adolescent.

I’m certainly not so vain to imagine that my son can’t wait to get to an unsupervised terminal just so he can wade through Dad’s thoughts for the past several years. But this will be here, and at an idle moment, he’ll think of it. I’m pretty sure I don’t want that, and I’m also pretty sure there’s only one reasonable solution to it.

If you’re my age or close to it, odds are decent an Atari 2600 made a memorable pass through your childhood. Do you remember when you would play Combat or Air-Sea Battle (or a few others), that the scores would blink on and off with maybe 30 seconds remaining as a warning that the game was about to end? That motif has stayed with me. I’ll be in the middle of something—making an omelet, doing the taxes, racing the dark to get the grass cut—and think “oops, the scores just started blinking. Better wrap this thing.”

I think that—for this BoWilliams.com, in its current instantiation—the scores just started blinking.

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A few notes on Harry Potter, the wrong way

Bo — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 22:44:17 +0000

Until yesterday afternoon, it probably took being a monk to know less about Harry Potter than I did. Lea and I didn’t have children when the books started coming out, and by the time the phenomenon was in the stratosphere, there was too much catching up to do.

So, apart from trying 30 minutes of the first film on HBO and turning it off bored, I just never played. I got what anyone would get through osmosis. I knew he was a magical kid with a lightning bolt on his forehead (though I’d have probably called it a birthmark and not a scar). I knew he went to a school called Hogwarts. I knew non-magical people were called muggles, though I question whether I’d have even known that had it not been for geocaching. I could have come up with Dumbledore as a character name. I doubt I could have come up with Voldemort, though if you said it I could have identified it as part of the Harry Potter universe. Dig?

Then my friend BamaDan ordered the whole series on Blu-ray, and when he complained to the vendor about a couple of cases being damaged, they sent him a new one and told him not to worry about the old one. So that’s how I came to own the film series in high-definition for nothing. (Thanks, man!)

So who’s ever watched these movies without having turned a page of J.K. Rowling? Well, I have, now. Thanks to yucky weather and a three-day weekend, the boys and I have consumed the first four films. They’re really having fun with them. Aaron, in particular, is enthralled, which I’ve loved because he’s rarely an especially enthusiastic “fan.”

I am enjoying them well enough. They’re classic good-and-evil fantasy stories. I would have expected the production design to be pretty lights-out, and it is. The special effects mostly deliver. The writing isn’t particularly sharp, but it does a reasonable job remaining accessible to children without alienating adults (and that’s not the only way I’ve been reminded of Star Wars).

I just don’t have any emotional connection to these characters. I think “soulless” is too strong, but “cold” is in the ballpark. Now part of me says “if I’d read the books…” and I’m sure some of you said that too when you started this paragraph. But really, should that be necessary? Is it advisable to make a movie assuming someone has read the book on which it’s based? Shouldn’t it be its own thing? I think that both the recent Chronicles of Narnia and Lord of the Rings movies do a good job with that, though I can’t be certain because I’ve read those books.

So we’re through Goblet of Fire, which means we’re as far as Nathan has read (and wow, I’m grateful for that, because he has stayed just about to pop wanting to tell you what’s going to happen next). We’ll finish them in another week or so.

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Review: Ruth’s Chris Steak House

Bo — Sun, 15 Jan 2012 00:13:41 +0000

Last night was our first date night in some time. Lea and I visited Ruth’s Chris Steak House, inside the Embassy Suites downtown, where you just kind of wander into it in the lobby.

We’ve had our Ruth’s Chris in Huntsville for five years or so, and I’d heard about it probably that much longer again on talk radio, but neither of us had ever been. I accidentally selected the same night Ron “Tater Salad” White was in town, but our reservation and valet parking effectively mitigated any pain there. We checked our coats and were seated promptly. There are no continuous walls separating you from the hotel lobby at large, but the space is designed thoughtfully enough to provide suitable intimacy.

So the signature touch at Ruth’s Chris is that its USDA prime steaks are served to you at a temperature of 14,000,000,000,000,000 degrees. (OK, it’s really “only” 500 degrees Fahrenheit, after having been seared at 1800 degrees, but still, when she says “hot plate,” she means it.) They sizzle at the table because they’re bathed in a tablespoon of butter.

The other thing to know is that Ruth’s Chris side dishes each serve two to three people. I’m sure this works well in a group of four or more, but for two, it essentially means you have to be on the same page for your potato and any vegetable accompaniment. This seems needlessly constraining, but we dealt with the limitation mostly satisfactorily.

Lea and I are not big wine drinkers, so we didn’t spend any time with the impressive-looking list. I was a little surprised that not only was there not anything comparable for available beers, there didn’t seem to be a listing of any kind anywhere. Our server Jay assured me that they had “pretty much anything domestic,” so I settled on a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, which arrived promptly with a chilled glass. Unfortunately, it was the last one in the restaurant, so I wasn’t able to continue with it. Failure to inform me of this in time to change my selection was the only (minor) service offense of the evening.

(And a switch to Sweetwater 420 Pale Ale isn’t a bad jump.)

Our appetizer of crab-stuffed mushrooms arrived perfectly halfway through the Sierra Nevada. The four golf-ball sized portobellos were tasty enough to hold our attention without being distracting. I also appreciate interesting flavors that don’t rely on salt overload, which has (sadly) become the norm for appetizers. These delivered nicely.

For dinner, Lea selected a New York strip, well done, while I had the filet, medium-rare (and that’s a stock Ruth’s Chris photo and not one of my particular steak, but it could be).

These came out sizzling as advertised, accompanied by the garlic mashed potatoes and fresh asparagus we had selected. After making a joke about being careful not to touch our tongues or ear lobes to the plates, we began.

Now given the shtick and the price, the steaks were going to have to be memorable, and they delivered. They were very high-quality cuts, cooked perfectly to order and with only the subtlest seasoning of salt, pepper, parsley, and the aforementioned butter in order to better showcase the corn-fed flavor.

I haven’t kept a list of the best steaks I’ve ever had, but there was absolutely nothing to complain about with this one. I hadn’t even a minor gripe with its quality. I’m certain it was a 90th-percentile steak for me; I think it might have been 95th-percentile. I cut it with my fork. The flavor was marvelous and long-lived. I started taking slightly smaller bites as the steak diminished on the plate, just so I’d have one or two more.

The asparagus was fresh, flavorful, and accompanied with hollandaise. It was cooked just a bit more than I prefer, with only a slight crispness, but still well within reasonable expectations. The garlic mashed potatoes were tasty, with only an occasional lump to assure authenticity, and (again) no salt overload.

For the close, Jay set a mountain of chocolate mousse pie between us, which was creamy, delicious, and artfully presented. We managed about two-thirds of it, I think, and I enjoyed an excellent French press black coffee with it.

The service experience, start to finish, was excellent. The meal was paced perfectly. Jay was polite and genuinely conversational (and I really dislike that rehearsed, straight-from-corporate-training quality there is to far too much server communication anymore). He, the hostess, and the valet all greeted me by name. It was all warm and attentive, with a good understanding and avoidance of what grates.

If you know anything else about Ruth’s Chris, you know that we’re not talking about the Golden Corral budget-wise. Now I think I paid a little bit more one time in Destin, but this visit definitely joined my American Express hall of fame for a single meal for two. With a shared appetizer, three alcoholic beverages, and dessert and coffee accompanying our steak dinners, and adding a 20.1% tip for our server and a fiver for the valet, the start-to-finish experience checked in at $184.

Now eating out is a luxury in the first place, so I’m not going to say that’s too much. It’s a pleasant evening at a premium restaurant, and that’s what that one cost. Our previous closest analog is probably Pauli’s, and I’m now interested in returning there soon for a head-to-head. (I’m reasonably sure I remember that a comparable visit is 20-25% less there.)

Nevertheless, we enjoyed ourselves very much, and I suspect we’ll return occasionally.

8/10

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They’re only little boys once

Bo — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 01:29:36 +0000

Well, I said that was it, but then tonight’s real post promptly wrote itself when I went into the kitchen just now.

Lea started a grocery list. A child who lives here added to it.

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Anti-reflections on New Year’s Day

Bo — Sun, 01 Jan 2012 20:28:03 +0000

January 1, new beginning, blah, blah, blah. I’m not feeling very profound today.

Or maybe I am. Depends on your perspective, I guess. The mood I am not in is one in which I self-flagellate for three or four paragraphs on all of the heinous mistakes I made in 2011, then make grandiose pronouncements of wholesale changes in the way I live my life.

What I am going to do is try to fully appreciate the power of the small correct decision. What does that mean? Dig:

I’m six months into successfully quitting smoking. By successful, I mean 100% compliance, without a single slip. It feels like I’m going to make it, but I’m not so foolish as to announce I have made it, because I’ve been this far down this road before.

The secret, I believe, is the avoidance of the past tense. I think that for most nicotine addicts, the addiction is out there forever. It doesn’t necessarily stay ready to pounce continuously, but it keeps an eye on you. I know from experience it can be sitting on your chest very quickly, and you don’t see it coming until you can’t breathe from the weight.

So what do you do about it? Well, whether you’re hitting a moment of unexpected weakness six months in, or you’re dealing with one of the eight or ten acute daily cravings right after you’ve stopped, you don’t say you’re never going to smoke again. Rather, you say you’re not going to smoke for the next five minutes, because hey, you can abstain for five minutes, right? Thing is, that five minutes tends to get strung together with other five minuteses. So they build into hours, and hours build into days, and days build into you’ve accomplished your goal. (Or, rather, you’re accomplishing your goal.)

I started considering what that kind of thinking might do for other areas of my life. After all, I think most of what I’d like to change about my life also involve errors of consumption. Shouldn’t have eaten that. Why did I buy that last week? So maybe you don’t announce that you’re changing your diet forever, or you’re going to be more careful with your money. Maybe instead you make a good decision right now. Then, you make another one. Then, you make another one. Drop the ball? Don’t worry; you’ve got another opportunity to decide well coming up.

How about loving your spouse? Do you just carry forward a baseline level of love for him/her, and today’s another day, so there it is? Or do you reinvigorate it with regular injections of positive attention? Guess which approach I’ve consistently observed in long, successful marriages?

I think meaningful forevers accumulate.

Happy New Year.

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In Company with Angels: Seven Rediscovered Tiffany Windows

Bo — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 20:21:08 +0000

We are members of the Huntsville Museum of Art, though I visit far too infrequently.

Sometime before Christmas, Lea said something to me about a traveling exhibit there. Now she probably explained the whole thing to me, but what I carried forward from it was “stained glass.” So she said something about wanting to go this week, and I thought “oh yeah, the stained glass.” Sure. Let’s go. Thursday got the nod.

Oh, what a marvelous trip! The exhibit is In Company with Angels: Seven Rediscovered Tiffany Windows.

The Cincinnati church of which these windows were part was demolished in 1964, and though some of the parishioners had the foresight to save the windows, they’ve been kind of sitting around here and there in barns and sheds and such until their rediscovery 10 years ago and subsequent restoration. The angels are based on seven letters written to the seven Christian churches of Asia Minor identified in the Book of Revelation: Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamos, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia, and Laodicea.

I won’t go into too much detail here, partially because I want to leave discoveries for folks who go, but mostly because nothing I could say approaches the experience of seeing them.

Speaking of: locals, you have two weeks left. These windows are magnificent and absolutely worth the trip to the museum.

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Day after Christmas miscellanea

Bo — Mon, 26 Dec 2011 20:40:21 +0000

The boys had a good Christmas morning, I believe, though this is almost certainly Aaron’s last year to believe in Santa Claus. Nathan, calling on subtlety and understatement I didn’t realize he yet had, did a good job preserving it for Aaron without overselling it.
Lea and I got a new couch for Christmas, and exchanged smaller stuff yesterday. She got me a pillow I probably wouldn’t have paid for that is shaping up to be a great gift.
Dad had inch-thick strip steaks and shrimp for Christmas dinner. Awesome.
Even so, I arrested my weight loss backslide in a week that included that, as well as movie popcorn. Good for me. Now, full reverse.
Church is extra-special on Christmas morning.
Nathan got six new video games from various directions yesterday, and yet still found it in himself to get pissed at me when I wouldn’t let him completely deplete his wallet to purchase a seventh today. (It did please me and mostly redeem the moment when he came back about 15 minutes later and told me I was right.)
Samuel Adams Chocolate Bock tastes exactly like a Hershey bar made into a beer. If that sounds appealing to you, then it’s a slam-dunk.
Today I reorganized my battery drawer and charger layout. I did the dishes. I’m going to cook tonight. I don’t see much else productive happening.

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Merry Christmas

Bo — Sun, 25 Dec 2011 12:51:47 +0000

For to us a child is born; to us a son is given. And the government shall be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. – Isaiah 9:6

Merry Christmas to you and your family.

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Accidentally delighted at my Christmas 2011 soundtrack

Bo — Sat, 24 Dec 2011 18:32:59 +0000

I am on the cusp of accomplishing something unprecedented.

As I type at midday on Christmas Eve 2011, I have—this entire season—completely avoided every single annoying Christmas song there is.

I mean completely. I’ve not heard “Feliz Navidad” once. Not a single piercingly annoying bar of “Wonderful Christmastime” has sullied my auditory canal. That stupid hippopotamus song? Nope. And any cackle you’ve had at that wacky Grandma having too much eggnog has not been shared with me.

I’ve even avoided the minor irritations. Seems like there’s some Mariah Carey song with Macaulay Culkin acting a fool in the video I used to hear. “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree?” “Jingle Bell Rock”? “Santa Baby,” which is good for two listens and then grates forever? All absent from my Christmas season experience this year.

Are you jealous?

I didn’t set out to do it. I just noticed about a week ago that it had happened that way. Looking good to be able to maintain it, too. Headed to church in a bit, with a budding Christmas Eve dinner tradition to follow, so the rest of today seems safe. None of our usual Christmas Day activities necessarily include third party-selected soundtrack, either.

I like it.

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The Christmas home stretch

Bo — Mon, 19 Dec 2011 13:37:49 +0000

The boys helped me start and finish the cards yesterday in exactly two hours, which was fantastic. Lea is her usual awesome self, handling at least one thing I don’t see for every thing I do.

As for me, dudes and dolls, if it’s not in my sphere of Christmas concern by 7:30 on the morning of December 19, it’s probably not going to get in there. I apologize in advance for any slights, both perceived and genuine.

Lunch with Carol today. Movie and pizza with BamaDan on deck later in the week. Only marginal proximity to retail in each case. Lea has asked that I take the boys all day Thursday, so we’ll be doing that. We’ll go have lunch somewhere fun, and I haven’t worked the rest of it out. (I haven’t watched any of my Christmas movies yet; alas, the boys aren’t even close to old enough for any of them for at least another couple of years.)

Mainly, I’m trying to take my foot off the accelerator a little bit. It’s a silly time of year, but I’m trying to appreciate that freneticism is still a choice, and I’m trying not to make it. Join me, won’t you?

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