Reflections of a Freaking Genius

Mornings suck.  They always start out about the same for me.  My iPhone in the iHome dock starts plays whatever music I've selected the night before from my iTunes that will not irritate me to the point of iThrowing my iPhone across the room.  Yep, it's just about that bad.  It helps me wake up happy.  Well...happier anyway.  Those alarm clocks that sound like a blaring alarm on a nuclear reactor that is about ready to melt down don't work too well for me.  I'm sure I've destroyed a few alarm clocks over that riduculousness.  FYI: Don't hit the bar on your iHome...it's not a snooze button.  You'll snooze alright.  You'll snooze right past the time you ought to be leaving for work Rolling out of bed, I'm bleary eyed, stumbling to the kitchen to hit the start button on the coffee grinder.  I waddle over to the pantry and get my coffee filter and fit it neatly into the basket on the coffee maker, then pou...

Kind of has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?  Freakin' Grandgenius...mmm hmmm.  I seriously doubt that I'm going to get any of my sons to agree to that name.  My boys all have their own unique and endearing names for me now, most of which aren't repeatable or flattering.  No...I'm not going to be a grandpa.  Yet.  My oldest son and his wife are working on adopting their first.  They've been through a very long a gruelling process so far.  I think it's easier to gain US citizenship than to adopt a kid.  Oh yeah...we don't require citizenship in the US any more.  Guess I'll have to come up with a different analogy!  Regardless, it has been quite the journey for them to date.  Applications, forms, background checks,  health screenings, background checks on parents...sheesh...I seriously almost screwed it up for them.  Seems as if there were some issues with my background check....

Every good novel begins with a gripping sentence in chapter one, line one..."It was a dark and stormy night...".   Kids, don't try that at home, it's typically frowned upon in composition classes as being as overused and droll.  The point being, there is something interesting to draw the reader into the rest of the story. When my kids started making their entrance into the world, I started becoming more curious about my own beginning.  It may sound strange to for me to say that, but you see, I was adopted at birth.  There are so many thoughts and emotions that surround having been adopted. Most folks who were raised by their biological families don't really understand those issues...understandably, they don't make sense.  After all, my parents CHOSE me, and you had to take what you got, right?  Those thoughts and feelings, though well meaning, don't really help salve the heart of the adoptee.  What goes hand-in-hand with being 'chosen'...

It's the end of the Thanksgiving weekend.  My overstuffed body is on my overstuffed couch.  Seems like the perfect combination.  I probably should be taking my overstuffed body to the understuffed gym instead.  No....tomorrow is probably going to be a much better day for the gym anyway.  Our country did a good job yet again making Black Friday even darker.  Maybe a new book?  "50 Shades of Black"?  There was a disagreement over a 'primo' parking spot at a Walmart.  Two people were shot...yep, over a parking spot.  Sheesh.  In a Victoria's Secret in Northern California, a fist fight broke out between two women and then the dudes started duking it out over....women's underwear.  Although it's still ridiculous, it's easier to understand the females getting into a fight over the last couple of on sale skivvies...I don't know what to say about the guys.  Were they upset because THEY wanted the black la...

It's upon us.  That OTHER most wonderful time of the year.  We'll not talk about that other holiday just yet...Target stores has that covered for me...sheesh...one holiday at a time, people!  I feel like I'm a little behind the eight ball with this guide because I've already had two Thanksgiving meals.  My oldest son and his wife has already had 3.  And we're not finished yet.  I'm sitting here in my sleep clothes, laying on the couch with my laptop on my lap (clever name for a computer), barely able to see over my dinner filled belly so that I might see the characters flowing so fluidly out of my fingertips onto the screen.  Getting past the mountainous obstacle of my midsection is only the first challenge.  The next one is my slowly-going-blind eyes that almost can't distinguish one letter from another.  Any typos I'll blame on autoconnect...autoneglect...dang it, on Karen (you're welcome, Karen!).  That was for you, Jul...

It's that time of year again.  The time when friends and family gather together and ideally reflect on all of the things that we have to be thankful for in our great nation.  Although President Lincoln was credited with establishing the third Thursday of the month as a national day of thanksgiving, it was President George Washington who proclaimed the first national day of Thanksgiving on November 26, 1789.  His words reflect the intention of such a day: [T]hen unite in most humbly offering our prayers and supplications to the great Lord and Ruler of Nations, and beseech Him to pardon our national and other transgressions; to enable us all, whether in public or private stations, to perform our several and relative duties properly and punctually; to render our National Government a blessing to all the people by constantly being a Government of wise, just, and constitutional laws, discreetly and faithfully executed and obeyed; to protect and guide all sovereigns and n...

I read a story that seemed appropriate for my thoughts today: A young man named Jon received a parrot as a gift. Unfortunately, the parrot had a bad attitude and an even worse vocabulary. Every word out of the bird's mouth was rude, obnoxious and laced with profanity. Jon tried and tried to change the bird's attitude by consistently saying only polite words, playing soft music, reading scripture to the bird, and anything else he could think of to "clean up" the bird's vocabulary, but it continued to spew profanities at a remarkable rate. Finally Jon was fed up. He yelled at the parrot. The parrot yelled back. Jon shook the parrot and the parrot got even angrier and more rude. In desperation, Jon finally grabbed the bird and shut him in the freezer. For a few minutes the parrot squawked and kicked and screamed. Then, suddenly there was total quiet, not a peep was heard. Fearing he had killed the foul-mouthed bird, Jon quickly opened the ...

So I like to brush my teeth, shower, wear cologne, use deodorant, keep my hair cut and styled, trim excess hair from nose, ears, face and brows daily.  As I grow older, some of those things are a much larger chore than they used to be. So what?  Does that make me metro??  My boys seem to think so. So I don't mind shopping, and I've helped women pick out shoes and outfits (and done a great job doing so, if I do say so myself).  I like nice clothes and shoes, and want things to match.  So I may have more shoes than the typical guy does...so what?  I love to cook too...lots of guys like to cook, right??  Does that make me metro?  I don't think so! I was raised on a farm, as I've said before.  Not just a farm, a hog farm.  Yep, that's right, pigs.  Lots of pigs.  Around 1,000 pigs at a time.  Do you know what goes with the pig territory?  Lots of feed.  We ground our own feed for our persnickety and spo...

It was a year ago this month when I began the blogging journey.  I suppose I'm no worse for the wear.  I've enjoyed a venue to express the many creepy, insane, thoughtful, spiritual, angst creating thoughts that roll around in this oft confusing brain I own.  Try as I might to destroy them throughout my life, the synapses still fire like the cylinders of a well tuned Model T engine.  Every now and again, there is a nugget there that is worth exploring upon which to expound.  Thanks to those who have been faithful readers of the insane reflections of a freaking genius! I've learned a few things over the course of the last year.  I've learned that some of my frustrations really look petty when I barf them out on the word processor.  I suppose the more passionate you feel about something, with emotion injected into the topic, the more opportunity one has to look totally ridiculous!  On the other hand, some of the things I thought I was passio...