Tuesday, August 04, 2015

Every now and then I feel guilty that my wife and I will not be giving Nyles another sibling (he technically has my older son Carlton, but they are 14 years and 180 miles apart). As I'm quite sure I have chronicled in earlier blog entries, the wife had a difficult time with her pregnancy with Nyles, and we knew that we were going to be one and done, but I suppose we could have pushed the issue or even adopted a child, but ultimately we decided that young Nyles was quite enough. So naturally, we have given some serious though to getting a dog, which is the logical progression from wanting another child right?

The plan is to get him a dog around four or five, so the dog will ideally live until he's 18 and gone off to college. This will give him and the dog a good strong 14 years of memories, good times and growth and when the dog inevitably dies while he's in college, Nyles will have his studies and maybe a loose woman or two to assuage the loss of man's best friend. I don't want the dog dying while he's still living at home, because then I'd have to buy another one, which means my wife and I would be stuck doing heavy lifting, scooping and eventually grieving when the dog dies while my wife and I are in our 50s and already terrified of our own deaths. Who wants that kind of convoluted existence in their glory years?

I never had a dog growing up, because my dad shut that all the way down from birth to 18. My wife had a dog when she was young, but her dog was killed when according to her father, a pack of wild dogs attacked their family dog. That is the funniest and most asinine story I've ever heard, but my wife, her dad and everyone else involved swears by it. There's no such thing as a wild dog. There are wolves, foxes, and dingos, and none of those were in Maryland where my wife grew up. Someone shot that dog accidentally and tried to clean it up real nice and hide the truth like a Waller County cop. I digress.

The point of this rambling blog entry is to say that this morning as I completed my 6-mile run at 5:30am, I saw a man who looked to be around 35 years old with his dog. The dog had just ventured into the grass to do his duty (pun intended), and the man could not find the magic spot where it had all gone down. He did his best to look with his naked eyes, then this grown ass man activated the light on his cell phone to locate the pile of greatness the dog had left behind. Once he found the spot, he kept the phone light on, laid the phone down, got out his plastic bag, and delicately placed the mess in the bag. I was laughing at how determined this man was, and the dog was looking at his owner as if to say, "Better you than me champ!". I love my son, and I love my dog, but if you think I'm going on a poo scavenger hunt on public grass at 5:30 am, you have me all the way f**ked up. Fish make good pets too.

This video I'm about to post is some serious nerd sh*t that I searched for one night when I couldn't sleep. It is Michael and Janet Jackson's background vocals from the song Scream. Now these aren't just background vocals from the entire whole song, these are the background vocals you can faintly hear during the chorus. It is Janet and Michael singing together beautifully and I love it. The vocals start at the 1:56 mark and they repeat intermittently throughout this video. Once you listen to that over and over, then go listen to the real song and hear how they were worked into the song. It's beautiful thing.


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