.: bistan.net :.

Two years ago, after my mother died, I found five Super-8 film reels in my parents basement.  After shelving them for a while, I decided to finally do something with them.  I searched the internet for months to find someone who could convert the reels to a digital format at a decent price and found a company in Texas.  I was a little hesitant about shipping the reels to Texas because I had no idea what was on them.  I finally decided that by not knowing the contents of the films, I wouldn’t miss them if they were lost so two weeks ago, off they went.

Today, I received my films back, along with a DVD of the contents, and my portable hard drive that I sent with an AVI of the films.  Even though I really had to pee, I immediately proceeded to watch the movies. I finally discovered what was on them:

• Christmas 1980
• Christmas 1981
• my third birthday (February, 1982)
• my sister’s first birthday (September, 1982)
• my fourth birthday (February, 1983)

The clips also include many other special moments.  What is most important, however, isn’t what is on the video, but rather who is on the video.  All of the videos contain my parents, my grandparents (all of whom are long gone), and other cousins, relatives, and friends.  Many of them I am still connected to via Facebook but several of them are gone.  While watching the clips, I both laughed and cried.  This was the best package that I have ever received from UPS.

Tonight, I shared the clips with my family.  It’s amazing how much my kids resemble my sister and I and how much my sister resembles one of my aunts and how my mother aged to resemble her mother.  What was my uncle thinking wearing those red shoes — even in the 1980s?  And the clothing and hairstyles?  There were several toys in the clips that I held onto and passed on to my kids!

Of course, the clips will be uploaded to YouTube and featured right here.  But not yet.  I’m going to package the clips on a DVD as a Christmas present to my sister and father.  Although neither read this blog, they do occasionally look at YouTube.  I don’t want to spoil the surprise.

As a hobbyist photographer, I always want the best picture – especially when my child is performing.  We learned a hard lesson at the preschool open house last year: Don’t get there on time . . . get there very early!  So this year, we did.

Here is a question for the reader(s): Suppose you arrived somewhere an hour early to get a good seat.  You rushed home from work, rushed to change clothes, and had to entertain two small children for that entire hour.  All of that just so you could (hopefully) take some decent photos of your three-year-old child singing carols.  After sitting for 45 minutes (and trying to entertain those two small kids), the room is about 90 percent full.  There are several seats in the back and one seat next to you. A man with a cane sits in the empty seat next to you.  His overweight wife then asks you to give up your seat so that she could sit next to her “handicapped husband”.  What do you do?

Now I certainly have ranted before on this issue.  I hate it when handicapped people attempt to exploit their disability to gain something.  I politely suggested that they sit together in the back, however, the thoughts going through my mind were much more colorful.  Throughout the entire evening, the man kept making remarks to his wife about how sorry he was that she didn’t have a seat and how inconsiderate people can be.  I bit my tongue . . . so hard.  I haven’t had a reason to show anyone at Mackenzie’s preschool the ugly side of Jonathan and I certainly didn’t want to do it at the Christmas Open House.

Should handicapped people have reserved seating at the front when there are clearly no visual or hearing disabilities?  Parking is one thing, but seating is another.  Like you, I may have left my “What Would Jesus Do” bracelet back in the nineties, but I would have given up my seat to a blind or deaf person.  I will not, however, give up my seat to someone attempting to exploit their perceived handicap.  Notice I say “perceived”, because I doubt that toting around a cane makes you handicapped.

So that’s what Jonathan did.  What would you do?

We have a voluntary listserv at work called “Email shop”.  It’s basically an online yard sale.  You email the list to let them know what junk is in your trunk and what you want for it.  I’ve actually sold a doghouse, a camcorder, and a treadmill (before I started running — big mistake) on it.

Here are some samples of things that have come across today . . .

First:

“I bought my 2 ½ year old son a pair of cowboy boots at Circle M Western Store this past Saturday for his cowboy Halloween outfit, but later during the day found him a pair he liked better at another store. I went to take the boots back to Circle M but they would not refund my money, only give me a store credit that can only be used for 6 months. I have no need for these boots and they literally have never been worn and are still in the box/wrapping paper. All I am trying to do is get my money back, which is $45. Again, the boots are size 7/8 and they are really cute:  brown with stars on them and can be worn by a boy or a girl. Let me know if you are interested.

Thanks,

<name redacted>
Associate Director of Financial Planning
Mercer University”

Now there are several problems with this first message:

Her first mistake was spending $45 for a pair of boots for a Halloween outfit.  Her 2^nd mistake was letting a 2 1/2 year old son pick out another pair he liked better.  Mercer’s mistake was to let someone who spends $45 on a pair of boots for a Halloween outfit be the associate director of financial planning.  Tristan has never even had a pair of $45 shoes and would trick-or-treat barefoot before I would buy him a pair.  The shoes I’m wearing didn’t even cost that much.  Perhaps I could have made her some out of duct-tape.

Second post:

“Boy’s Chocolate Brown UGG boots Size 1 (excellent condition, paid $120 for them) – $50”

Size 1 – $120!  Do you know how fast a baby’s foot grows?  We have some really thrifty folks working at Mercer – they must make a lot more than I do!

Six years ago when we got married and moved into this house, we did what was pretty normal at the time: we got a telephone line.  From the time the line was turned on, we were inundated with calls for the P… family.  I’m guessing that they had our number before it was assigned to us.  

My first clue was that Georgia Power wouldn’t let us use our new number to have power turned on for our address, because the number was associated with a delinquent account.  After that, it was credit card companies and even Gillead Christian Academy (a local extremely conservative private school).

Joel and Sonja P… are the main culprits and their son Jonathon gets almost as many calls.  Here is how the conversations for Jonathon would usually go:

Bill collector: “Hello. Is Jonathon there?”
Me: “This is Jonathan.”
Bill collector: “My name is blah blah and I’m calling about the money you owe me blah blah.”
Me: “I’m sorry, you have the wrong number.”

Do you think the bill collectors bought it?  Of course not!  Once they confirm there is a Jonatha/on here, they think I’m changing the story when I tell them they have the wrong number.  So here we are, six years later, still getting harassing calls for the P… family.  

So how am I smarter than the bill collectors and why all of this tonight?  Using my common sense approach to researching on the internet, I’ve found them all.  Joel works (or worked) at the local Honda dealership, Jonathon is currently in the Marine Corps and Sonya (and possibly the others) attends a baptist church that is 1/2 mile from my house.  The latter two are on facebook, along with extended family, cousins, etc.  Why can’t the bill collectors use google?  It certainly would increase their recovery rate.

The number actually forwards to my cell phone now — our land lines are long gone — and when this AT&T contract is up in 2011, the number I’m referring to will be gone as well. 

Now, even though hardly anyone reads this blog, I’m calling these people out.  They deserve it after years of telephone calls and dinner interruptions.  I did hold back a little.  I haven’t published their address here.  They moved into their current house (which they paid $84,000 for) in November 2002, about 5 months before I got stuck with their number.  It’s all about research!

Here’s a life lesson straight from Tristan’s preschool class.  I captured it on video while delivering cupcakes for his birthday.  I think it appropriately applies to countless situations.

Some students here at the law school who were previously in the military are hosting a Veteran’s Day ceremony this afternoon.  I guess since Mercer doesn’t care enough about veterans to give us the day off, its good that the students have stepped up.

The AV guy is out this morning so I’m charged with getting the podium sound working.  I walked down a few minutes ago to scope out the setup when I noticed that the guy in charge was already setting up the refreshments table.  Right in the middle is one of those huge five gallon containers of cheese balls.  Yes, the kind that the day care gives my two year old after she takes a good nap.  The kind that never taste quite right.

Usually Mercer takes better care of their students and alumni (especially those who have served).  The speaker is actually a prominent member of the judiciary, which makes it even more odd that we are serving cheese balls.  I know that a lot of the liberals here consider the commander-in-chief to be a cheese ball, but isn’t this taking it a little far?

So for all of you out there who have made sacrifices and served this nation, thanks — and have some cheese balls!

We recently stopped at a McDonalds during a weekend road trip.  For some reason, there were several different people sporting Christian t-shirts.

The first was a young man with a “World Changers” t-shirt on.  He was with his mom, dad and 4 siblings.  I overheard them discussing homeschooling.  The mother had a snooty demeanor to her.  She seemed to look at other and make faces to herself and her family as if she was above them on some level.  After getting their food, the seven of them found the most remote booth in the restaurant.  I’m wondering how you can change the world, when you aren’t even comfortable being part of it.

The second was a teen girl.  I don’t remember what her shirt said, but it was a blatant Christian shirt.  The much older (and tattooed) guy that she was with (and hanging all over) had on an interesting shirt as well.  It said “If the van is a rocking, don’t come a knocking”.  I’ll reserve my comments on that one.