Gabe's Internal Thoughts Leak Out

More to follow.

Cheaper Than Last Year's Christmas Card

I was more feeling left out than wanting to play, but since Julie linked me, here we go.

Here are the rules of the game
1. Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 random and or weird things about yourself.
3. Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.
4. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog

1. Somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind I wanted to name my son Gabriel so when he is Secretary of State or President (whichever God has chosen for him) and is dealing with the Middle East they are more apt to listen to him. For those who never took comparative religion, Gabriel (Uriel) brought the Koran to Mohammad and will be the bringer of peace.

2. I have HOURS and HOURS of Christmas music on my laptop. 15 hours, 3 minutes and 29 seconds of Christmas music. I secretly start listening to it in June. Most of it is non traditional and my favorite right now is: That Was the Worst Christmas Ever! by Sufjan Stevens. Google it...seriously. He's from the Traverse City area and you can download it free and legal HERE.

3. I'm adopted. Not once, but twice. I was adopted at birth but back then you had to spend a few weeks in foster care. My name was Troy. When I went home with my mom I was Jeffrey David Eisenlord. After my mom married my dad I got to pick out a new middle name and was adopted by my dad. That's how I became, Jeffrey John.

4. When I tell people I have a sister in high school they always ask, "how did you get your job at such a young age?" Because you know, that's not rude. I often respond, "Because I'm so good looking". Hey, they started it. I then explain that my sister is 12 years younger than I am. Then they ask how many siblings I have and I say one. At this point they just stare blankly at me, mouth breathing. Peasants.

5. If I could make lots of money chasing storms I would pack the car up today. Tornadoes, flooding, ice storms, blizzards or just a really bad thunderstorm, I love to be out in them. I think they're gorgeous. While I'm driving around all different situations run through my head about what I would do if I came across someone in trouble in certain situations. Most involve dialing 911, but I guess wanting to be a weather man or search and rescue paramedic never really got out of my system.

6. I once lived with a guy in college who's first name was Manmeat. True story. He was from Malaysia and we found out he was an ecstasy dealer. When I worked in Congress I put him on a terrorist watch list just for fun.

7. Finally!! I can give you two thumbs up...with my toes. I can bend my toes while leaving the big toe straight. Not exactly sure how I came across this talent, but we all have to be good at something.

I will only link to Sarah, but if any of you want to do this I'll link to you if you let me know.

And if President doesn't work out for Gabe at least he's got a head start in robbing banks.
But who wouldn't vote for this face?

What Ryan is Really Thinking While Playing Guitar Hero

God Made Dirt, Dirt Don't Hurt

Building roads in the dirt, that don't go anywhere.

Godzilla!




Hedge apples are not a good choice for a daily fruit serving.

Pepe Le Pew

Here are the much anticipated pictures of the Gman for Halloween.
The whole crew.
The danger zone.
Enough of this, I'm ready for a book and bed.

Sugar Rush!!

Did someone say cake?
Not too shabby.I kinda like it.
Must stuff more in!!Mmmmph!
After the "Handsome Devil" shirt was surgically removed...Presents!!He says "book" now, so great grandma Lunger got him some books.Despite what the date on the picture says, this is the day KSU beat Texas...Love ya Gertz!

One Year Later and We Are Still Alive

Dear Baby Boy,

In a few short days you will have survived your first year as a Black. I say survived and not “will celebrate” because honestly, you have consistently been forced to adapt to my parental abilities, or lack there of.

I didn’t get to see you much for the first month of your life. It was really hard for me to come home to an empty house every night. I was trying my hardest to secure our future and I’m sorry that I failed you. It was a difficult lesson to learn, but God really does take care of us when we think we are at our lowest point.

On the bright side, for the next six months you and I got to know each other pretty well. At first you slept a lot and that was ok. I was pretty sleepy too since you really didn’t show any respect for your mother and I’s rest at say, 4am. Plus it gave me a chance to catch up with my stories.

Soon you wanted to be awake more and in all your infant wisdom knew daddy was a little too fragile to deal with a crying baby all day while mommy worked. So you didn’t cry. Not even with both ears infected. You completely limited your crying to: I’m hungry, I’m sleepy, and I’m dirty. That’s it.

You spent your waking hours watching PBS, Fox News, and Bugs Bunny all from the comfort of my lap. You would even let me read 2 pages of a book to you before trying to eat it. And your favorite thing to do was sit in your bumbo chair and “drive the boat” while daddy played his fishing video game. No really, you loved it. We laughed, no one cried, you fudged your undies. It was just one of the many adaptations you made for my benefit.

You have always amazed me at how analytical you are. You seem to take everything in as it happens and ponder how it is your mother and I have made it to the age we have. Rest assured my boy, it was skill, intellect, and a lot of blind dumb luck. Not you though, you have a plan. Dog in the way? Plow through her. Ottoman keeping you in the living room? Plow through it. Daddy’s leg not high enough for you to crawl under? Plow through it.

I was prepared for you to be artsy like your mother and not interested in sports. If you liked sports I wasn’t even going to push football. Now it appears football is just too sissy for you and I’ve been looking into Aussie rules football and rugby leagues to take out your “plow through it” aggression. Unfortunately there really isn’t a demand for such leagues in the 12 to 24 month old age bracket in Kansas and I fear your development in such sports will be stunted. We’ll be starting two a days in the backyard as soon as we move into our house.

Every morning you wake up between 5 and 6 am, just to check on us. After being reassured that we’re still residing in the same house, you fall back to sleep while mommy and I get ready for the day. Typically I have to wake you up to go to daycare but sometimes you wake up before we’re ready. So you adapt, and patiently hangout in your crib while I finish getting ready. You entertain yourself by talking to monkey, throwing your B out of the crib, knocking on the wall between your room and the bathroom, or turning your light on and off. When I do have to wake you up its all smiles. I turn on your light and you sit up and grin at me, rub the boogies out of your nose, and throw a few waves at the handsome little baby across the room (in the mirror). Then you jump up and turn the light off while I’m trying to find clothes for you to wear. This has forced mommy to layout your clothes in the living room every morning after a few “Did you dress him in the dark?” comments from your mother.

You like to push buttons and flip switches. Your bath time has been abbreviated lately because you continually push the lever that keeps the water in the tub. See a light switch? You have to flip it. You like to pull up in front of the tv a push all the buttons and when I yell at you, you turn and look at me with your best “surely you don’t expect someone this cute to actually listen to you” smile. Well, I’ve given that smile and it didn’t work with my parents either buddy. Which is why you don’t push the buttons on the tv anymore.

You understand language so much more than you can express. You actually will listen to me when I ask you to stop doing something. Sometimes it just takes a look and sometimes I have to get to TWO before you comply, but you understand more and more of what your mother and I are saying to you. You however have learned to say the word ball perfectly thus making everything, BALL! See that tree over there? BALL! See the car? BALL! Want a frontal lobotomy? BALL!

And then there is Pops. By far your favorite person. When he walks in the door you beeline it towards him and start chanting, BALL! BALL! BALL! and point at the pool table when he picks you up. You like to sit on the table and roll the balls, crawl to every pocket and take the balls out, and roll them into another pocket. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. And God forbid anyone, ANYONE, try to take you from Pops including your mother. You would rather have your face melt off than to be taken from the arms of Pops and wail as if you were set on fire when he puts you down. We find if we ignore you it lasts about 10 seconds. Of course I like to make fun of you, so it continues until you mother yells at me.

There will be many more opportunities for you to adapt to your father but to date I have a favorite. Every night I pick you up form daycare and drive home. On our trip the sun beats mercilessly upon you from the passenger side of the car. What do you do? Squint, give me a look and turn your head to look out the driver’s side windows. You don’t complain, you don’t cry, you don’t ask for one of those silly screen things that never stay up, you adapt. It’s that ability to adapt to any situation and make the best of it that will take you very, very far in life and I can’t wait to see where it takes you. I thought it was something you had to learn, but you were born with it ingrained within.

You’ve just started to walk and you stager around like any good Irishman. You walk across the room, sit down, and clap for yourself. Apparently you’ve come to understand that sitting down is what you’re supposed to do when you get to the other side of the room. The best I can figure you do this because we always clapped after you had taken a few steps and sat. Either way, you are so proud of yourself, and we are too buddy.

Love you,

Daddy

This is What I Deal With Daily

The following is an actual rejection letter from the United States Patent and Trademark Office. It was brought in to my office by a gentleman who was mad at the Chamber. Apparently his brother told him that, at our suggestion, he should file his patent first because it would be funny. While it in fact was funny, I was not employed here when said conversation took place...an answer he did not care for.

Re: Patent Application for the Word "Flagelajadingdong-nog-syrupification"

Dear Mr. Mark Feezell:

Although the USPTO first rejected your request to patent this "hella funny-sounding word"—to use your exact expression—on the grounds that it was not only an inutile and abstract idea but, frankly, a wholly absurd one, we were subsequently forced to retract this rejection and issue a new one because "flagelajadingdong-nog-syrupification" has, in fact, already been patented (as a process) by one Mr. Daniel Feezell of El Dorado, Kansas. Mr. Daniel Feezell's patent defines the process as follows:

The act of patenting the word "flagelajadingdong-nog-syrupification" before one's younger brother does, thereby stymieing his lifelong dream of obtaining a patent.

Regrettably, we must honor those patents already in effect, however ridiculous in nature. Please consider this a final rejection notice and do not appeal our decision. Once again, we are sorry for the bad news, and that you were flagelajadingdong-nog-syrupificated by the other, apparently cleverer Mr. Feezell.

Yours,
United States Patent and Trademark Office

What I Thought My Work Week Would Look Like When I was 6

Monday

I overslept. No time for breakfast. I'll just grab a hot dog at the ballpark. Actually, I'll have a hot dog here, too. One hot dog here, one at the ballpark. I'm a superstar pitcher for the Detroit Tigers.

Driving my Volvo to the stadium is really fun and safe, and I'm really good at it. Oh, my best pitch? It's a curveball. I'm allowed to throw a curveball at this point in my life because I'm a man and my elbow is fully developed. I can throw as many curveballs as I want.

Actually, I have a few minutes to spare. I'm going to make a quick detour to my historian office, where I am a historian. There's an amphora fresh in from Greece. An amphora is a vase. It's sitting on my desk and I have to analyze it. Where did it come from? What is its story? This is the hardest part of my historian job. I ponder the problem for a little bit while playing Atari and it suddenly hits me: it's from a completely awesome shipwreck. Then it's time for the most fun part of the job, as a bunch of journalists come in to photograph me standing next to the amphora and holding the amphora over my head.

Then I speed to the stadium and one-hit the Blue Jays.

Tuesday

Tuesday. Hump day, and also the one day of my workweek when I really have to focus all of my energy on being the president of the United States of America. I start the day early with a quick visit to the Lincoln Memorial. Next, I'm off to hold an underprivileged student on my lap and read to his class from Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree, the greatest and saddest of books. By the time I finish, there isn't a dry eye in the room. The only exception is a journalist who is busy writing a positive editorial.

At 3 p.m. I make a brief relief appearance in a day game against the Seattle Mariners. I just pitched the day before and the coach says I don't have to play if I don't want to, but I want to. I strike out the side to secure the victory. There isn't a dry eye in the crowd. As I walk off the field, I slowly spin around, amazed: Are they all standing and clapping for me? It turns out they are.

Back in Washington, I pass some popular legislation making it illegal for rich people to kill poor people. (Why didn't you think of this, Founding Fathers?) Then, in a courageous political move, I decide to end poverty altogether. "This will be good for America," I announce in a televised address to the nation. "It's strange that this never occurred to Franklin Delano Roosevelt or John F. Kennedy. They were pretty great presidents, but keep in mind that this never occurred even to THEM."

Wednesday

I take Wednesdays off.

Thursday

First, I publish a scholarly article in Science magazine on the Greek amphora. My amphora and I make the cover. A filmmaker stops by the historian office. He wants me to speak on the subject of the Roman gladiators and also on the Black Death. I'm running a little late, but I still manage to make history come alive for a few minutes. As he's leaving, the filmmaker adds, "Congratulations on making the cover of Sports Illustrated, Mr. President." I shrug modestly: "It's not the first time."

Then I'm off. To where? Not to the stadium, nor to the White House, nor to a strange detour back to the historian office. No, I'm off to my son's elementary school, where I pick him up early. Mrs. Reynolds, who is still teaching first grade but has become even fatter and uglier, won't let him leave at first, but I send in my Secret Service guys and some of the Army. My son is overjoyed to see me. "Thanks for making me a top priority, even though I know you have a lot of important work," he says, maturely. "I know Grandpa never did that for you." I nod. "You're right, he didn't. He should have, but he didn't."

Then we go ride roller coasters at Cedar Point, and we never have to wait in any lines, because it's 2 p.m. on a Thursday, and also because I'm the president.

Friday

I also take Fridays off.

Chanandelor Bong

There has been a request for me to clarify what it is that I do with my time from 8am to 5 pm each day. Since I don’t often receive requests, as I am not a top 40 radio station, several questions came to mind. Do I just tell them? Am I so easy that I give in when asked? Isn’t a little mystery fun? How does someone not know what a chamber does?

Hmmm…sure. Yes. Sometimes. They don’t own a business. What can I say, I like to be the center of attention.

So here I am sitting at my desk in a yet-to-be-remodeled office wondering how I explain what I do and realize it must be not much since I have time for this. Solis is found quickly though since I’ve wedged you in between meetings.

I am the Executive Vice President of the El Dorado Chamber of Commerce until January 1, 2008 when I become the Executive Director. What’s the difference? Nothing, except for a few letters and the semantics of a community development organization divesting, my job will be the same. It’s a story so long and boring I’m yawning just typing about NOT telling it you. It has none of the action and adventure of the honeymoon story, which I would be glad to regale now. Ok, put your computer monitors down I was just kidding.

I hear Kara saying, “Great, so what do you do?”

As defined in our bylaws: “The EVP will serve as the chief administrative and executive officer.” So I’m the CEO and CAO (which is the CFO, COO, Director of HR, and everything else).

I hear Kara saying, “Great, so what do you do?”

I run the day to day operations of the Chamber. I hire, I fire, I set salaries, I preside over 15 committees, I call on businesses to make them feel loved, I drive membership, I cut ribbons and shovel dirt, I organize new programs (young professionals, monthly Chamber meetings), I help new businesses form business plans, find funding and locations, I’m the dog and pony show at the annual meeting, I represent the business community to the city, state, and federal government, produce and write 3 pages a month for the newsletter (which we might just produce our own little deal, so you could add publisher to my list).

How’s that for a run on sentence?

This covers about 70% of it. Basically, I’m a pretty busy boy these days and I apologize for neglecting my cyber fans. Without you I might be able to fit my head through a door jam without turning it, and what fun would that be? Oh, and our Mac crapped out so when we get that back I’ll put the G-man’s 9 month pics up…even though he’s now 10 months.

And finally, raise your hand if you know what the title means.

Quick Hit

I got the job in El Dorado!! We don't have internet in the office until Wed...which means Fri. When we do I'll update more and load Gabe's 9 month pictures.

Till then.

Might as Well Have Been in a Coma

I know, I know. It’s been way to long since I have posted. I took a hiatus from writing to start my film directing/editing/sound-mixing career that I won’t ever get paid for either. With family far away I wanted to see how engrossing it would be to make a montage of the G-Man once a month…yeah, I’ll be doing them every other month…maybe once a quarter. You can see online in a little bit, so check back, I’ll warn you though, it’s 34 minutes long. I totally understand why movies take a year to edit. Selecting the soundtrack alone took a week.

On the job front, Sarah has started free-lancing fulltime for a company called Ensignal. They sell Verizon and Dish Network stuff. She does all of their in-store signage and newspaper ads. I’m not sure how many stores they have, but they’re in five states. I also don’t know that “free-lance” is the right word since she works a 40-hour week out of their office, but what do I know? That's what they're calling it anyway.

Anyway, I started teaching at the refinery just in time to get a second interview with the El Dorado Chamber, an offer from Wal-Mart (yes, you read that right), and an offer from Green Lantern Carwash (I know this all sounds strange, but for what they pay assistant managers I'd wash the damn cars myself…with my tongue…in track shorts if necessary). When it rains, it pours.

I’m really hoping for the Chamber thing to work out. It’s for the Executive Vice President slot, so it would put me well on my way in the Chamber industry. El Dorado is where Sarah and I took the Michigan folks when they came out to see us. There’s a good recap here: ryanandkarat.blogspot.com.

Gabe is amazing. He’s crawling all over the place, pulling up to furniture and walking along it, got his first hair cut and is saying Mama, Baba, and still looks at Ali and yells Ahhh…EEE. And Ali comes. He has started to go to daycare and he doesn’t seem to mind it. He goes to an at-home provider that Hunter (Amy and David’s little girl) goes to.

For those of you who know me maybe a little too well, the answer is yes…I’m listening to Christmas music right now. I know…it’s a sickness.

It's in his blood...today we watched CSPAN1 for most of the day.

Kansas Konfessions

More of an FYI than an update. Sarah has decided to enter the blogosphere. She wanted to post on here *gasp*, when I stopped laughing I told her to start her own. It turned out pretty well and now I'm going to have to change my look...eventually. Without further to-do:

Kansaskonfessions.blogspot.com

The First of Many Father/Son Heart to Hearts

As a stay at home Dad your opportunities for conversation are limited. So far I have resisted the urge to talk to the dog, at least for any length of time, and most conversations with Gabe end up with a competition of who can babble incoherently the loudest (I’m up 74 to 62) or me only using the syllable "DA". This of course is because as his primary caregiver I'm offended and slightly hurt that he is able to produce the syllable "MA" and "AL", though his use is suspect.

His latest trick is he likes to flap his gums and not say anything. Sure, like father like son you say, but I mean he doesn’t make a sound. This of course is partially my fault as I like to speak to him like I’m a poorly dubbed martial arts film. You know, where the ninja speaks for two minutes but only manages to say three words in English. This is partially his fault because he laughs real hard when I do it.

On Tuesday Gabe and I drove to Wichita for a Career Fair. I figured it was time for the G-Man to learn the value of a dollar and start earning his keep around here. As I was getting gas on the way home something began going off in my suit pants. I stuck my head through the window and told Gabe.

"I think someone's put a duck in my trousers."

"Well, let it go before you get into the car, daddy. It would be the humane thing to do."

"I don't think I'll be able to just let it go here. I think I'm going to have to sit down and lure it out."

"Ah. With water, perhaps? Ducks like water."

"Yes. I think if I sit down near water I ought to be able to coax it down."

The duck quacks.

"Would a small body of water do? In a ceramic receptacle?"

"Yes, but I can’t very well leave you here while I locate one.”

“Sure you can. Just leave it running and put me in the driver’s seat, no one will notice.”

“Fat chance.”

We hurry home.

Because Everyone Else Is

Well, everyone else has put pictures up of their kids and Gabe was feeling left out. So, since I'm a push over for a human that can't speak, here ya go:Disclaimer: His bib is neither all inclusive or prohibitive of love of others. See, I paid attention in law school.

Yes, that is my belly behind him. And yes, those are matching shirts. I could tell you that I was upstairs dressing while his mother picked out his shirt and dressed him down stairs, but you wouldn't believe me anyway.

GaberMiester in the hood yo. Hat cocked and ready to roll...albeit a little deer in headlights.

Well there ya go. Cute little sucker. Peer pressure apparently never goes away.

Open Letter to the Buurstra's

If you haven't checked out Buurstra + Buurstra, or you don't know who the Buurstra's are, reading thier blog first would help this make more sense. I originally wrote this as a comment to one of Julie's posts about becoming a first time mom and I'm too lazy to write something new for you folks (can you feel the love?), so here it is:

Jules,

That nervousness you feel now is nothing compared to the gut-wrenching realization you come to when your family leaves from helping you get back on your feet and it is just you, the mop top boy who knocked you up, and little peanut sitting in a house that suddenly feels so big because you feel so small and unworthy to be holding such perfection in yours hands.

You are responsible for this life.

YOU, whose Cheer’s escapades will go unmentioned here. YOU, whose husband’s love of Johnny Cash karaoke, is only superseded by his adoration of you. YOU, who throws parties that the cops show up to, have been given the responsibility to raise a child.

Oh sure, it's all roses when you have a nursing staff at the push of a button or Grandma is there to make dinner and change diapers. Their time to go will come and then it's up to you.

I know I know, “This isn’t making me feel much better, thanks Jeff”. The good news is that the feeling doesn’t last very long, even shorter when you realize that God gave this responsibility and he wouldn’t have given it to you if you couldn’t handle it.

You can handle it and will do so masterfully.

Hey, if I can be a stay at home dad you have nothing to worry about. We’re talking about a guy who was looking into boarding schools for infants…when I realized they had such things and they are called orphanages I knew I would have to suck it up and figure this thing out as I go.

Not that it has matured me any. I have been known to place Gabe behind his steering wheel contraption so he can “drive the boat” as I play Rapala Fishing on the ol’ PlayStation2. So go easy on Pete if he doesn’t cut his hair and start wearing suits, because having a baby doesn’t change who you are (i.e. Kurt…2 sons later and the only change is he drinks Labatt instead of Red Dog…and still gets carded), but it does make you watch what you say…I’m looking at you Kara Telman…potty mouth.

When You Know it is Time to Go Back to Work

When you become a stay at home dad there are many things you begin to notice, like what the different noises emitting from your son's mouth mean and how the volume and timbre of said noises can change its meaning. Yet there comes a point where your child becomes ever so slightly independent and other things begin to exert their presence, like the house needs to be cleaned, the blog needs updating, and just how much PBS you are watching.

When you are so single mindedly focused on one thing it comes as a shock to the system when the outside world starts to creep back in. It's almost like sensory deprivation and when your senses begin to recover it's as if you are seeing things for the first time. Unfortunately the scope in which I can explore these epiphanies is limited as the boy is still in need of 98% of my collective attention.

I've always watched a lot of TV, but over the last 4 months my consumption has increased exponentially. When you spend so much time at home in front of the TV patterns start to emerge, like take “24” for instance. There is an ongoing crisis that only Jack can resolve. To know how/where to solve it Jack must torture or rough up (this is a kinder, gentler blog) someone to get the info. Someone gets shot (usually by Jack) and the crisis is averted for that “hour”. Then they close the show by foreshadowing next week’s crisis. Every week.

Yet this isn’t the appropriate viewing material for an infant so we find ourselves watching a lot of HippyTV (PBS), a smidge of FOX News (while not always baby friendly the kid needs a balance to all the “spirit of the tree” crap), and of course the classics on Cartoon Network.

Really, is there anything better than Warner Brothers cartoons? Where else can you find a rabbit being hunted to “O Fortuna”, or singing opera, or a rooster playing “Morning Mood” instead of crowing? This is where the most patterns start to occur. Now before you start thinking I’ve gone all “A Beautiful Mind” on you, know that I didn't write these, but ever since I've read them they're all I think about while hunting sillwy wabbits. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you:

The Cartoon Laws of Physics

Cartoon Law I
Any body suspended in space will remain in space until made aware of its situation. Daffy Duck steps off a cliff, expecting further pastureland. He loiters in midair, soliloquizing flippantly, until he chances to look down. At this point, the familiar principle of 32 feet per second per second takes over.

Cartoon Law II
Any body in motion will tend to remain in motion until solid matter intervenes suddenly. Whether shot from a cannon or in hot pursuit on foot, cartoon characters are so absolute in their momentum that only a telephone pole or an outsize boulder retards their forward motion absolutely. Sir Isaac Newton called this sudden termination of motion the stooge's surcease.

Cartoon Law III
Any body passing through solid matter will leave a perforation conforming to its perimeter. Also called the silhouette of passage, this phenomenon is the specialty of victims of directed-pressure explosions and of reckless cowards who are so eager to escape that they exit directly through the wall of a house, leaving a cookie-cutout-perfect hole. The threat of skunks or matrimony often catalyzes this reaction.

Cartoon Law IV
The time required for an object to fall twenty stories is greater than or equal to the time it takes for whoever knocked it off the ledge to spiral down twenty flights to attempt to capture it unbroken. Such an object is inevitably priceless, the attempt to capture it inevitably unsuccessful.

Cartoon Law V
All principles of gravity are negated by fear. Psychic forces are sufficient in most bodies for a shock to propel them directly away from the earth's surface. A spooky noise or an adversary's signature sound will induce motion upward, usually to the cradle of a chandelier, a treetop, or the crest of a flagpole. The feet of a character who is running or the wheels of a speeding auto need never touch the ground, especially when in flight.

Cartoon Law VI
As speed increases, objects can be in several places at once. This is particularly true of tooth-and-claw fights, in which a character's head may be glimpsed emerging from the cloud of altercation at several places simultaneously. This effect is common as well among bodies that are spinning or being throttled. A `wacky' character has the option of self-replication only at manic high speeds and may ricochet off walls to achieve the velocity required.

Cartoon Law VII
Certain bodies can pass through solid walls painted to resemble tunnel entrances; others cannot. This trompe l'oeil inconsistency has baffled generations, but at least it is known that whoever paints an entrance on a wall's surface to trick an opponent will be unable to pursue him into this theoretical space. The painter is flattened against the wall when he attempts to follow into the painting. This is ultimately a problem of art, not of science.

Cartoon Law VIII
Any violent rearrangement of feline matter is impermanent. Cartoon cats possess even more deaths than the traditional nine lives might comfortably afford. They can be decimated, spliced, splayed, accordion-pleated, spindled, or disassembled, but they cannot be destroyed. After a few moments of blinking self pity, they reinflate, elongate, snap back, or solidify. Corollary: A cat will assume the shape of its container.

Cartoon Law IX
Everything falls faster than an anvil.

Cartoon Law X
For every vengeance there is an equal and opposite revengeance. This is the one law of animated cartoon motion that also applies to the physical world at large. For that reason, we need the relief of watching it happen to a duck instead.

Cartoon Law Amendment A
A sharp object will always propel a character upward. When poked (usually in the buttocks) with a sharp object (usually a pin), a character will defy gravity by shooting straight up, with great velocity.

Cartoon Law Amendment B
The laws of object permanence are nullified for "cool" characters. Characters who are intended to be "cool" can make previously nonexistent objects appear from behind their backs at will. For instance, the Road Runner can materialize signs to express himself without speaking.

Cartoon Law Amendment C
Explosive weapons cannot cause fatal injuries. They merely turn characters temporarily black and smoky.

Cartoon Law Amendment D
Gravity is transmitted by slow-moving waves of large wavelengths. Their operation can be witnessed by observing the behavior of a canine suspended over a large vertical drop. Its feet will begin to fall first, causing its legs to stretch. As the wave reaches its torso, that part will begin to fall, causing the neck to stretch. As the head begins to fall, tension is released and the canine will resume its regular proportions until such time as it strikes the ground.

Quick and Dirty

A few pics of the G-man at 3.5 months. I'll update fully soon...no really, I will.