Category Archives: Mr. Boy

Texas celebrity sighting

Saw Bum Phillips this afternoon at a restaurant in  Goliad, on the way down to Port A. Except for the two in-ear hearing aids in his ears the former coach of the former Houston Oilers looked younger than his 80-something years.

No, he was not wearing his trademark cowboy hat. But one was painted on the passenger-side door of his truck. Right atop a drawing of a football. I heard the cashier tell him “Thanks, coach,” when he paid for himself and two friends.

Back in the car Mrs. Charm did a quick Google on him on her iPhone and found that he has retired to a horse ranch near Goliad. Imagine running horses at his age.

She also found a Tweet on Barry’s visit to Austin today. It said that Gov. Rick Perry was at the airport to meet him and handed the prez two letters: F and U. Heh.

Off to Port A

Our annual jaunt to the beach begins Monday and will increase by one day and night this year, as the condo adds a free day to three paid. Sign of the economic times, no doubt—though Texas isn’t suffering near the 22 percent unemployment indicated by some measures.

Hardly in Michelle Obama’s class, of course (“Michelle’s $375,000 Spanish vacation — with the Daily Mail dubbing her a ‘modern-day Marie Antoinette’—closing Mediterranean beaches while booking 60-plus rooms in a five star Marbella hotel for her entourage…”), but, then, we’re spending our own money, not yours.

Happy Independence Day

 

Independence_Day

Mr. B. and I will do it alone this year, as we drive Mrs. Charm to the airport shortly after noon to fly to California to spend a week with my sister. We’re going to buy some sparklers on the way home to do it right this year. Fortunately for me, he’s still leery of firecrackers, so I don’t have that battle.

Mr. B. at the yoke

Mr.B.attheyokeThis was five years ago when his Navy uncle first cousin graduated from multi-engine school at the air station at Corpus Christi. Mr. B.’s paternal grandfather also was a pilot, but in the Air Force. His maternal grandfather was a Navy flight engineer. Is he destined to fly? Wait and see.

Giggle gas

Mr. B. had his first tooth pulled this afternoon, an extra that was blocking the proper positioning of a permanent one. The nitrous oxide helped, but the needle still hurt and the pressure and the unusual sounds of the extraction scared him a little. Poor kid.

At least he got a few genuine laughs in from the giggle gas. Kids revert, sometimes, to an earlier age when under emotional pressure. Seems to have occurred here as he wanted me to read to him at bedtime from The Hobbit, one of our old favorites I first read to him when he was six or so.

Father’s Day

It’s telling, I think, that a recent Rasmussen poll finds fully a third of Americans either denying that fatherhood is important or being unsure if it is. It’s a hard role, and especially hard when dealing with a boy. The irony of that is that men are supposed to want sons. Yet daughters generally are easier for a father to deal with. But the whole thing about what people are supposed to want is a media creation and I, of all people, ought to know how phony media creations/constructs are. Designed entirely to sell. No more.

Mr. B’s cast comes off

We were both surprised to see that the rotary blade that cut through the fiberglass cast could be pressed against his finger without breaking the skin. He was glad to have the thing off after three weeks–four weeks after he broke his arm in a basketball game. Had to wash the arm, of course, as it smelled pretty bad, and scrub off some dead skin on his palm. But, after taking it easy this week, he’s expected to be back to playing basketball again real soon.