An open letter to my dad on the day of his retirement.

Dear Dad -

Huzzah! A mere 40 years after joining the family business, you've made it to retirement!

I know Mom jokes about getting you a job as a greeter at Walmart. Personally, my money is still on a second career as a school bus driver. Remember how you'd tilt the steering wheel of the Buick way up, and pretend to yell at us kids? You're a natural.

When I was little, I wasn't quite sure what your job was. So, I told everyone you were a businessman, like the guys in suits in the J.C. Penney catalog. I was somewhat in the dark, but proud.

As I got older, I figured out what your job entailed - because you were willing to explain it to me, no matter how many random questions I asked. I also figured out that a family business was a pretty special thing. Poochie and I both had our first jobs with you - I was a file clerk, and he was a janitor. To this day, I'm awesome at alphabetizing. And Poochie? Well, I think he finally took "sanitation engineer" off his resume to make room for his master's degree.

You worked really hard. We learned that drive from you. We also learned that doing your best, treating everyone well, and living with integrity were givens. You taught us by example.

Your hard work enabled us to live in a nice house and enjoy fun extras. We had some awesome vacations. You sent our sorry asses to college - despite my expensive out-of-state educational tastes - and set us up for success. You also empowered us and gave us the freedom to follow our hearts, even if that led us away from home. I'm only now starting to truly understand the value and depth of these rare, special gifts.

I hope this new era gives you these same opportunities - the time and the freedom to try new things and enjoy grand adventures. Keep on being your interesting, always-learning self. I can't wait to see what else you have to teach me. You've already taught me what it means to be a success.

Thanks, Dad. Love you always -

Bug

Stuff I liked in 2012.

It's the end of another year, and time for yet another year-end list.

I love year-end lists. Seriously. What books and movies did I miss? Who died? What was great?

I will say, though, that my local paper - a once-great institution of real journalism - really sucked up the joint with its online photo gallery of people who died this year. The gallery kept showing different photos of the already-listed folks. So, according to the paper? Whitney Houston died 4 times this year. Who knew?

Anyway. I will stop being a curmudgeon and share the stuff I liked this year. Not necessarily new stuff, just new-to-me stuff. Also? I will refrain from listing the same items multiple times (ahem, local paper).

Best show my husband made me watch; also, best proof that I might be turning him into a democrat
The Newsroom. This is the first Aaron Sorkin show I've watched - yeah, yeah, I know, I live under a rock. But I'm not typically into dramas, and it takes a something pretty great to make me commit to an hour-long show. The Newsroom was so worth it. It's well-written, even if it can be a little heavy-handed. Sorkin can write dialogue. I know that's totally Earth-shattering commentary on my part, but dude.

Best change
My Guy and I joined the same gym. Duh.

Scariest outcome of best change
We're going to the gym more. I have been spending more time on the treadmill. For the first time in my entire life, I have been ... umm ... jogging. Voluntarily. For, like, 3 minutes at a time. OK, really more like 2 minutes at a time. But still. Running! What the hell?

Best album
I have no idea. I have clearly fallen off the new music cliff in 2012. All I know is that the Foo Fighters didn't release an album this year and I hate every musical guest on SNL. Because I'm usually home on Saturday nights. Shut up.

Movie that had me pumping my fists
Argo. It's a great script and a super-interesting story. But there's something almost intangible about the film that just puts it over the top. The music and the acting and the editing create this tension that was practically palpable in the theatre. Plus, the filmmakers really captured the feel of the time - the clothes and hair and set decoration were amazing.

Best movie surprise
James Spader in Lincoln. Poor James Spader. I've hated his guts ever since Pretty in Pink, when he played evil rich kid Steff with such insolence. Like Lawrence Fishburne, who will always be Ike Turner to me, James Spader will always be the mean guy who was cruel to Molly Ringwald.

Anyway. I was not prepared for James Spader to be in Lincoln. But he is. And his character is hilarious. He's pretty slimy, but watching him is a joy. Like, he is so surprised at meeting the president that he actually says, "Well, I'll be fucked!"

Heh.

Best movie I'm glad we watched on DVR
The King's Speech. I realize that My Guy and I were the last humans on Earth to see this movie. But I'm so glad we watched it when we could pause it and discuss the historical background. Quick discussions to figure out who was prime minister and just when certain stuff happened made the viewing experience more robust. Plus, we both ended up going down Wikipedia rabbit holes after seeing the movie. So much to learn!

Also, it's a great movie. And Colin Firth is just ... well, you know.

Biggest disappointment
Let us not speak of the 2012 college football season.

Best surprise of the 2012 college football season
One of my college friends is the uncle of 2 players on the Iowa State football team - including the kid who is the big stud and heart and soul of the team. Seeing my pal's Facebook posts has made my heart glad. They range from random ISU crowd shots to picks of a tiny grandma in head-to-toe Cyclone gear. Families are awesome.

Best nonfiction book
Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption. I've gone on and on about this book before, but dangnabit - I freakin' loved it and think the whole world should read it. It's got sports and World War II and triumph of the human spirit and ohmigod, just read this book already.

My Guy's favorite book of 2012
11/22/63: A Novel. My Guy has this to say about Stephen King's novel: "It was good. What? You know that's the extent of my book reports."

Best Target dollar-aisle finds
While they are usually dressed as reindeer / disco bison, this year, the doxies mixed up the costumes a bit.

Santa was in the house, lookin' all manly.

As was his elf ... who really felt like more of a Vegas pirate than an elf, but whatever.

So. What did I miss this year? What books / stuff / movies / shows / dog costumes made your year?

Psst ... when you purchase a book through my links, Amazon throws some spare change my way. This enables me to pay my library fines, stay out of library jail, and keep entertaining you with my hard-hitting literary criticism.

Pestilence and famine came for Christmas.

Or, just the flu.

My poor sister-in-law Mrs. Poochie got hit first. She spent all of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in bed, missing out on the festivities at my parents' house. Then, by the time we drove home Christmas night, My Guy was similarly down for the count.

Knock on wood, I have been spared - so far. But our plans to visit My Guy's family are kaput. And there's the little business of my husband feeling near death.

So, let's focus on the positive.

This Christmas, the family discovered something wonderful: My brother has a horrible fear of whales. Good thing he lives in the Midwest, as he is terrified of being swallowed by a whale.

So, it was only natural that when we decorated sugar cookies, a few of the mitten-shaped cookies were transformed into whales. Vicious, blood-thirsty whales with disemboweled frosting carcasses in their mouths. Happy birthday, Jesus!

This holiday also saw what I can only hope will be the first of many Lego-offs. My mom got the bins of Legos from the basement, and assigned a bin to each adult kid. We then had 45 minutes to craft an amazing, Christmas-themed Lego creation.

It. Was. Awesome. I had the bin of pirate-ship Legos, and for about 20 minutes actually thought I could create some sort of "I saw 3 ships come sailing in" kind of thing. But then I realized that a) the only line of the song I remember is "And what was in those ships a'three?" - and the answer is I have no clue; and b) those Lego ships are super complex, and there was no way I was going to be able to cobble together 3 of them in under an hour. So, I created an island lair - manned by monkeys - where Krampus takes bad boys and girls.

Mrs. Poochie made an amazing Santa sled, complete with a Santa shark. My Guy crafted an incredibly detailed living room vignette, complete with a tree and awesome gifts - including a G.I. Joe aircraft carrier. Not that he's still bitter he never received one as a child. Ahem.

And my brother? Well, Poochie made a Lego nativity. A nativity with a Lego dragon playing the role of the angel.

There were prizes. Obviously.

We had great fun. We were privileged to celebrate mostly together. And the flu doesn't last forever. 

Never show weakness!

I think the Christmas tree has messed with Foxie Doxie's head.

It's the only change in our house I can think of that might have driven my little dachshund to lose his mind more than usual. On the best of days, he's the type of kid who should wear a helmet. But lately? Lately, he needs to be in a Hannibal Lecter-esque full-body restraint, complete with the the face mask.

See, Foxie is marking more than normal. Like, turn-my-back-for-3-seconds-and-he's-peeing-on-the-fridge kind of marking.

I realize this isn't news. But it has me considering psychoanalysis for my dog.

The other morning, Foxie fell down the steep stairs that lead to our bedroom. These are the same stairs that are so narrow that they necessitated we cut our box spring in half in order to get it to our bedroom. Those scary stairs.

Foxie missed a step and bounced down the bottom half of the stairs, much like Wile E. Coyote. It happened in slow motion, complete with me being all, "Noooooooo" and trying to somehow catch the dachshund, despite the fact that my athletic skills are amoebic at best.

So, Foxie fell down the stairs and ended up under a chair, halfway across the dining room. Time stood still as we looked at each other, both kind of like, "What the hell?" Then, I went into Mommy Mode, cooing over him, patting him down for any exposed bones or gushing wounds.

I sized him up. He sized himself up. We both decided he was freaked out but fine. We both let out a sigh of relief, and Foxie started to melt into a little mommy love as I attempted to smother away any bruising.

Except. Then, he realized that the other 3 dogs had witnessed his stunt-man-worthy fall. They had seen him freak out and how he let his mommy fawn all over him. He needed to regain his man card.

It was at this point that Foxie puffed up like a middle manager. He literally grew in stature as he made purposeful eye contact with each of the other dogs. Then, he did what any self-respecting dude would do: He walked over to a wall, lifted his leg, and peed.

Again, just like a middle manager. Mark your territory, boys!

I went ballistic. But Foxie was not concerned. Or at least he was playing it cool in front of the other kids.

This is what I'm dealing with. Doggie shrink recommendations are most welcome.

Book-giving for smartypants.

Christmas is a mere week away! Krampus the Christmas Frog and his shih tzu helper are ready. Are you?

For your last-minute book-learning gift-giving needs, I present Cha Cha’s List o’ Books About Stuff!

Yeah. Basically, I read some books and learned some stuff.

Hedy's Folly: The Life and Breakthrough Inventions of Hedy Lamarr, the Most Beautiful Woman in the World (Vintage) - Richard Rhodes
Hedy Lamarr was the most beautiful woman in the world … and she happened to invent some super-smart technology. This book tries to sell the Hollywood starlet as an unsung hero of World War II. However, it spends so much time focusing on her co-inventor that I ended up not knowing much about Hedy at all. Since I’m not much of a tech geek, my mind wandered.

I finished the book fixated on the fact that Hedy was bitter about the lack of acknowledgement for her technological work. She also refused an invitation to a fete thrown in honor of her inventions because she had aged and didn’t want to be seen. This shouldn’t have been my big takeaway - I feel like I missed the gist of this book. This might be reader error on my part, but I’m marking this tome as a missed storytelling opportunity.

At Home: A Short History of Private Life - Bill Bryson
If you ever need to prime and paint, then scrape, reprime, and repaint a fireplace surround, this is a great audiobook to accompany you. Don’t ask how I know.

Bryson is my favorite Iowa-born expat because his storytelling is so down-to-Earth - it’s like hanging out with your dad’s old pal. I especially love his audiobooks because he has a soft, soothing voice, and his delivery is just fun. If he’s telling you a crazy story, he’s not even going to pretend not to be incredulous himself.

At Home is about just that: home. This book talks about the evolution of houses - everything from domestic chores to the history of the living room as a stable. For animals. For real. We are now uptight clean freaks by comparison.

Special shout-out to Cyndi B. for the recommendation several months ago - thanks!

The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair that Changed America - Erik Larson
I bought this book when it first came out about a gajillion years ago. I shelled out money on the hardcover (gasp!) based on the strength of a very compelling review. Then, the book sat on my shelf, untouched, for several years. Then I loaned it to my brother. He let it sit on his shelf for several years. I got the book back. Finally, I checked the audiobook out from the library. It came due. I renewed it. Then, I finally listened to it.

I’m not sure if my reticence to read this book was due to the gorey, horrifying nature of the subject, or just general laziness on my part. Let’s go with the former, as this book tracks a serial killer who saw the Chicago World’s Fair as a perfect opportunity. I learned a ton about the fair and the logistics of creating giant buildings meant only to be temporary. Also, I had no idea the Ferris Wheel was such a marvel. I have a whole new appreciation now.

But the serial killer in question? Oy. Bad news. But a really interesting book of good and evil colliding.

Sin in the Second City: Madams, Ministers, Playboys, and the Battle for America's Soul - Karen Abbott
I was evidently on a bit of a Chicago-at-the-turn-of-the-century kick. Abbott’s book studies 2 sisters who invented themselves and a whole new kind of debauchery at their Chicago brothel. They basically revolutionized the world’s oldest business by making it classy - their establishment had a gold piano, and wouldn’t even let a gent through the door without a credit check.

Of course, the competition did not take kindly to strangers coming in and taking the best girls and the best clientele. And the underworld has politics like any other area of society. This book has intrigue! And murder! And guys named “Hinky Dink!” It paints vivid pictures of a very specific moment in history.

Need other book suggestions? Check out my takes on beachy reads and biographies.

Disclaimer: When you purchase a book through my links, Amazon throws some spare change my way. This enables me to pay my library fines, stay out of library jail, and keep entertaining you with my hard-hitting literary criticism.

Sometimes, there's not much to say.

I’m a firm believer that part of honoring the sanctity of life is honoring the silly, the mundane. The good stuff that makes life great.

Besides, sometimes? Sometimes, you just need some levity. And some chickens. Choreographed chickens.
Mad props to Kelley to bringing this important video to my attention!

How to know if you're destined for upper management.

Today was the holiday luncheon at Globotron. I sat at my table of lowly contractors, and we enjoyed free lunch. It tasted free. But, again, it was free.

CEO-types tend to fancy themselves to be "people people," and Globotron's CEO is no different. He deigned to sit with us unclean contractors and work the room.

He was a nice enough fellow. But I think he's a cyborg.

See, the luncheon made up for the free food with excellent party favors. Every place setting had a little box of Godiva chocolates. You know, those square boxes of 4 chocolates? Yeah. Class touch, Globotron. I approve.

After we were done eating, Cyborg CEO picked up his box of Godiva. "You know, I've never had a Godiva chocolate," he said. "I buy them for my wife all the time, but I've never tried them."

At this point, he should have made some comment about the joy of trying something new. But no.

Cyborg CEO tossed his box of chocolates to the guy sitting next to him. "Here," he said. "You have 'em."

And then I died.

Why, oh why wouldn't you try the chocolates? You don't even know what you're missing!

But the obvious "chocolate good!" grunts aside ... I immediately thought that Cyborg CEO must never sing in the car or try weird foods or do anything silly. And it made me sad for him.

And then I resumed my Bitter Corporate Denizen persona and decided that you simply cannot be senior management in Corporate America unless you are flat-out insane.