Frenzied Daddy

Not an original name in the bunch, know what I mean? But here’s the TT with Perrin.

We’re mowing the back yard and planning on fun things like a new lilac tree and putting the kids’ water hazard back there this year. With the change in the sunshine, we’ve found that Perrin likes to go back in the back yard and just hang out, looking around and smelling the flowers.

Miss K ( the TT, shown ) has learned to work the back door and can let herself out. The kitchen overlooks the back porch ( the grey wood you see ). And I caught them canoodling in the grass. I don’t know what the TT was telling Perrin. She’s been known to read him books and sing him songs.

I wish I was able to get a better shot, but if I had gone into the back yard to get the picture, the tranquility that they were sharing would have been ruined. This shot’s pretty heavily cropped; you don’t need to see the ripped up blackberry bushes and hedges that are in the foreground.

I rode my bike for a long time- it was my only form of travel besides my feet and the bus until shortly before the DQ was born. When I drive, I try to respect the boundaries of bikers. I give them plenty of room, check for bikes behind me when I open my door.

There was a seriously aggravating biker lady on 21st yesterday, headed south, near the overpass over I-84. The first thing I noticed was that she couldn’t bike a straight line, so the cars, and we’re talking morning rush hour traffic, the cars couldn’t depend on her staying out of their lane. They had to pass her gingerly. The second thing I noticed was that her helmet was in the basket over the rear wheel. Not on her head. I guess there was something fragile in the basket that was worth more than her brains– not that she was using those! She swerved into traffic a few cars ahead of me to pass another biker. Yeah, not one much for single file. She didn’t signal for that, or when she swerved back into the “bike lane.”

And she ran red lights.

I didn’t have to pass her- she turned left and went up Stark or Oak or something. And she finally used her signals.

Geez.

One weblog I enjoy is Waiter Rant. His writing voice sounds understated and dry. It’s fun because he scathingly characterizes some of the more colorful people he waits on. His characterizations are really good.

I was a waiter, once. Well, twice. I worked at Red Robin, which is a chain of family-and-college-dining, where their main foodtype is hamburger. I remember starting work there as a busser; one of the waitstaff took me aside and told me a few secrets. Basically, they explained that bussers get tips from the waitstaff and the more tips the waitstaff made, the more the bussers would make. Some of the bussers didn’t work very hard and focussed only on clearing tables that the customers had left from, but whatever I could do to improve the amount of tips the waitstaff were getting would be appreciated. After all, the waitstaff could clean off tables too.

I like to think I was a damn good busboy. Because I focussed on helping the waitstaff- running food, refilling drinks, whatever. Of course, the best help I could do was to clean tables, because a section with no clean tables didn’t get sat and they didn’t get any more customers. And who likes eating around dirty tables? So, if all the tables were clean, I would help with other things.

After a while, I was “promoted” from busboy to waitstaff. It was really the same thing, just with a different focus; my job was to help the customer have the best meal that week. Ok, so Red Robin’s not cafe zinfandel or the bijou; it’s a family restaurant, it’s not high class; some would say I wasn’t a “real waiter.”

It was interesting reading today about how he’s seeing the change in tips. On one hand, the entrees at his place have gone up. So a 20% tip on a $30 meal was once $6, but the meal’s gone to $40 and the tip is $8. Unfortunately, with the economy having changed for the worse, he’s seeing fewer 20% tips because people are saving their money. Most of the non-regulars are tipping at 15% or so, instead of the 20 he was getting last year.

My opinions on tipping aren’t hidden. I firmly believe in tipping well. The difference between a poor tip and a great tip is only a few dollars ( in the price range i usually spend ). My family goes out for a meal and it’s $40? If I bump it from $48 to $50, that’s two bucks out of my pocket but it’s an extra 5 percent on the tip. And the feeling a waiter gets when they get tipped that much extra is more than worth it.

What I hate about tipping is “15% of the total will be added as a gratuity for parties of 6 or more.” If it’s a gratuity, it’s not required. Gratuitous violence? Ring a bell? Hello?

And his reflection on how much his tips dropping affects his groceries sucks. If everyone is tipping less, he can’t buy the food he wants. It’s like swapping rice and beans for tri-tip and potatoes. And I feel his pain.

It’s been a long month. Let’s just close it up and call it done.

We’re off to the in-laws this weekend. Hoping to get the dogs into a kennel at their ( the in-laws’ ) request. It’s my nephew Damien’s first birthday, and all the girls are returning home to visit with him.

I may have to break away with my wife for a few hours for the Ironman movie; we’ll see what’s playing down there. I’m not really a Ironman fan, but then I’m not really a Hulk fan and I enjoyed that movie.

More news soon. Have a good weekend!

The DQ’s artistic skills have really been taking off lately. We’re very proud of her. She’s currently learning about depth of image and background and arty stuff like that.

So, I’m cooking dinner. The kitchen window looks out over the deck, the back porch, and the grassy knoll we call a back yard. It’s lovely. Not quite weed-infested, but it will be before autumn. The TT is amusing herself by letting Perrin out onto the porch and picking him flowers and trying to get him to eat them.

She comes into the kitchen ( she comes through the back door, through the adult’s room, through her room, through the hall, through the living room, and into the kitchen) with a bright yellow flower from the yard. She presents it to me like it’s a treasure. Of course, it is a treasure. It’s also a dandelion. “Oh, honey, what is this? Thank you”… She tells me it’s a flower. “Ok, this particular kind of flower is called a dandelion. Can you say dan-de-lion?” (drmrffleon). “That’s great. ”

In all honesty, I’m trying to get the cheese grated, the spaghetti noodles cooked and the sauce properly tomatoey. I’m not totally focused on accepting her gift and giving her a learning moment.

She runs back out the door ( all the way through the house ), runs back outside, and I stir the sauce as I watch her bend down and pick a single flower and come running back into the house, into the kitchen. She breathlessly presents me with … I don’t know what sort of weedy looking flower it is; it kind of looks like baby’s breath, but stringier.

“Oh honey, this is lovely. I’ll put it here with the dandelion. I don’t know what this one is called though.”

“Daaaaa-dddd-dd-d-dddy, ” she announces, “It’s a flower. Can you say ‘flower’ ? ”

“flower?”

The TT drew these critters last night. Her sister was spending some ill-gotten easter cash on art supplies, and so the TT didn’t feel left out, I picked her up a dollar’s box worth of crayons.

The one in the middle is a wolf. I’m not too sure about the pink things, but I adore their feet.

I know Sam Raimi directed Spiderman 1, 2 and 3. And, having read If Chins Could Kill I know that Sam Raimi and ( one of my favorite actors ) Bruce Campbell are long-time friends. I didn’t realize that Raimi also directed Xena and Hercules, but maybe I did know that and just forgot. Anyway…

Sam Raimi, director of Spiderman 1, 2, and 3, and director for the Xena and the Hercules series, has signed with Disney/ABC to bring 22 episodes of “Wizard’s First Rule” to the little screen!

Well, ok. I’m not a huge fan of these books. But I am a huge fan of Sam Raimi and of fantasy, and so I’m eagerly awaiting this coming to the television.

“Daddy, doggies are like bongos!”