My Friend Joe

It's entirely possible that you've made the acquaintance of my friend Joe. Joe has made the acquaintance of many, many individuals. I speak not of Joe Danube, who may be mentioned in future tales of my college days, nor any other of the myriad of Joes who've crossed my path before or since. No, I speak of a Joe best known for his tendency toward trade, so much so that he carries the descriptor before his name. Surely you know this Joe, Joe the Trader.

My relations with Trader Joe have been quite warm since our introduction, but recently Joe has done me a service worth its weight in gold. Now you may recall that, oh, probably a year or more back, I decided to try to restrict my intake of products which have their origin in the flesh of pigs. While this carries certain health benefits, the root reason was because of an ethical dilemma regarding their intelligence. However, I struggled and continue to struggle with the fact that many food items of a porcine nature are, to speak with even grander eloquence than you've been subject to thus far, fucking delicious. Particularly bacon. Especially bacon. Specifically bacon.

Bacon presents by far the most difficult aspect of trying to dine relatively pork-free. Pigs are something like the 4th smartest animal, possessed of intellect and personality. However, bacon is something like the 1st most delicious food, possessed of flavor, texture, addictiveness, and the capacity to be used either as food or condiment. Being a man as I am with a certain weakness towards appetites, it has been quite trying to forgo bacon, and indeed, if I neither ask for nor pay for it, I grant myself a certain loophole and indulge.

I have tried to find reasonable substitutes. Bacon Salt was a major find, allowing bacon flavor to be added to a number of other foods. However, a major part of bacon's appeal is its texture. I resigned myself to turkey bacon as a facsimile, but really, turkey bacon is not bacon. It doesn't taste quite like bacon. It doesn't feel quite like bacon. It's good, and I enjoy it, but it's not at all in the same league.

Or so I thought.

Trader Joe's sells an uncured, applewood smoked, peppered turkey bacon. I would provide a link to the product, but ol' Joe is apparently bashful about giving his products a proper web presence. Suit yourself, Joe. I bought it in hopes it would be a bit better than most turkey bacon. I discovered it is, in fact, better than most bacon.

Let me repeat that. It is better than most bacon.

How is that even possible? It doesn't seem like it should be. But, to ensure the first package wasn't merely a fluke, I bought a second. The flavor is excellent, with the peppered finish providing a mild spiciness. The texture is, in my opinion, superior to that of all but the finest thick-cut bacon, having thickness, firmness, and no fatty rubberiness. I've been cooking it using a cast iron skillet, to which it takes quite well. I have eaten it straight up and I've also crumbled it for use in a custom salad I threw together. The texture lends itself to this quite well actually, tearing into small bits easily without being dry and brittle. Compared to normal bacon, it tastes and feels more savory and less fatty. I think the nutritional info bears this out, but, again, to raise the eloquence, fuck if I know for sure.

And so, seven paragraphs on the subject (nine if you count the single line paragraphs). If you, like me, are a lover of bacon and if you, also like me, are interested in potential replacements, and if you, still further like me, are neither vegetarian nor vegan, then I believe you owe it to yourself to try Trader Joe's Uncured Applewood Smoked Peppered Turkey Bacon. Hell, even lovers of bacon with no particular compunctions about it should give it a spin. You may find it to exceed your wildest expectations, as it did mine, and earn a place in your bacon greatest hits. Without reservation, I award my friend Joe (who I hope will be your friend as well) with the recognition of the best turkey bacon I've ever encountered by an enormous margin, and with further honor for producing a top-quality bacon product by any measure.

Yo, my friend Joe should pay me for this effusive fucking advert. Oh, and I guess it's ten paragraphs now. Also, sorry 'bout the cussing, sensitive types.

Leading, By Examples #2 - The Concern of the King

My second leadership blog entry from my J-O-B. For the details on just what the hell is going on here, check the first one. Enjoy!

"The Lord of the Rings movies did a better job with the characters than the books.

They are more engaging, more human, more relatable, and all-around more likeable in Peter Jackson’s films than in Tolkien’s books. I’m not saying this to pick an internet fight with anyone. Having read the books and seen the films numerous times each, I find the characters as presented in the films far more engaging than in the book, in which they often seem more like cool, well-designed plot devices (ones of whom I am nonetheless fond!). I give you this extended preface to explain why, for the purposes of this entry, I will be focusing on the film version of a character, not the book version as much. That character, as you may have already guessed from the title, is Aragorn, the eponymous king.

Aragorn, in most fantasy fiction works, would be the primary protagonist. He is brave, strong, wise, ass-kicking, name-taking, and the son of a mystical noble bloodline. This IS your generic fantasy hero. Yet in The Lord of the Rings, Aragorn is not presented as the primary protagonist, Frodo Baggins is. The quest is Frodo’s quest, and it is through the eyes of Frodo and his hobbit friends that we are presented with much of the plot of the books. But while Frodo is the protagonist, the driving force, the bearer of the artifact that drives the entire story, Aragorn is most definitely the leader of the Fellowship, with only Gandalf as a potential alternative.

Aragorn has a lot of innate gifts and developed talents. For example, he is an almost supernaturally skilled swordfighter and an excellent archer. These skills prove quite useful in the dangerous quest to destroy the ring and save Middle Earth, and are no doubt excellent aids to his leadership ability. But they, in and of themselves, are NOT his leadership ability. Ass-kicking does not equal leadership, no matter how cool it looks and how effective a strategy it may be from time to time. So then what qualities DO make Aragorn a great leader?

One that comes to mind is consistency and integrity. Aragorn does what he says he’ll do, even when what he says he’ll do is difficult. Given the chance to take the ring from Frodo, despite considerable temptation, he refuses. It would be counter to the loyalty he has pledged to his companion. Upon Boromir’s death, Aragorn swears to him to not let Minas Tirith, Boromir’s home and the last remaining great seat of human power fall before the forces of evil. It takes him a while to get there, but he eventually does just that. He walks among the dead, recruits them to his cause, and steals a fleet of pirate ships to get there and do it. This is someone who keeps his word. Nothing builds trust in a leader more than the knowledge that what they tell you has meaning. Nothing destroys trust faster than empty promises.

Things don’t always go as planned though. Sometimes what we set out to do becomes impossible, at least in the way we had planned to do it. At the end of The Fellowship of the Ring, the fellowship breaks apart. Frodo and Sam cross the river Anduin and head off to destroy the ring on their own, Boromir dies, and Merry and Pippin are captured by the Uruk-Hai. Gandalf fell in battle with the Balrog several scenes prior. And I would argue that up until that point, Gandalf had actually been the leader of the fellowship, guiding the group through most of their decisions. With Gandalf gone, leadership now fell to Aragorn. This was the beginning of his growth into his eventual role as king. But, back to this moment of seeming failure, Aragorn was presented with a host of sub-optimal options. He could no longer keep the fellowship united in their quest to destroy the ring. So Aragorn did what leaders do: he improvised and kept going. He decided that the thing to do now was pursue the Uruks that kidnapped Merry and Pippin and save his allies from torture and death. It wasn’t the quest as written, but it was something. And it turned out to be important. As with more mundane leaders, when things don’t go our way, we must accept that fact, re-assess the situation, and strike out anew.

The group that Aragorn is tasked with leading, and the subsequent larger groups, are diverse in background, temperament, and opinion. Aragorn is deft at approaching those he leads in ways that appropriate to each. He interacts with Gimli differently than he does with Gandalf than he does with Sam. A leader is capable of doing this, of making his or her group stronger through diversity rather than divided. When the party is exhausted and discouraged at the thought of the next legs of their journey, and Gimli grimly, grumpily outlines the nasty road ahead (read: he’s whining), Aragorn’s response is, “That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength.” Gimli is a proud character, and Aragorn knows this. He knows that a challenge to Gimli’s pride will reinvigorate him for the task ahead. He acts more gently with Frodo, with more understanding .With Sam he is more encouraging, helping build confidence. Aragorn tailors his leadership style to fit the needs of those he leads.

One last topic I’ll point out is that Aragorn does not start off capable or even fully willing to become the King of Arnor and Gondor (the great kingdoms of men). Aragorn, like all leaders, grows and learns. He is open to doing so. Aragorn grew up with elves, and at the beginning, identifies more with elves. He has less faith in other humans. His initial interactions with Boromir show a certain level of disdain (in part because Boromir makes some pretty bad suggestions). Over the course of the first part of the story, Aragorn learns to accept himself as a human man, in part through letting go of his disdain for Boromir and seeing what is good in him. Over the course of the second part of the story, Aragorn learns to be a king through interaction with Theoden, King of Rohan. It is fair to say they learn from each other. Aragorn helps Theoden recover his bravery and spirit, Theoden helps Aragorn learn what it means to think and care for an entire nation of people instead of just a small group of competent adventurers. And this all leaves out his most influential mentor, Gandalf. Aragorn learns volumes from Gandalf about the ways of the world and the nature of the quest. The point with all of these is that Aragorn, to become the king, had to be open to learning. He had to accept that there was more to know, more to understand, and room to grow. By doing so, he moved from being a gifted ranger to being a great king. Be open to learning, and you too can grow as a leader far beyond where you are currently, even if where you are is already pretty darn good!"

Tales From The Lebowskis - Great Jaja Adventures, Vol. 6

It's been a while since we've heard about Great Jaja. Usually I waste entirely too much time prefacing. On with the tale, "Jell-O Jamboree", which is entertaining if brief.

For a time, my aunt Patty "Pappy" Rudedawg (née Lebowski) rented living space in the upstairs of her grandfather (Great Jaja)'s house. It was a good deal financially and it meant being with family without living with her mom and dad. We all know by now that Great Jaja had some weird eating habits. There seemed to be no rhyme nor reason to what he would and wouldn't eat. I still recall being repeatedly and firmly warned off the "candy drawer" which was a drawer in his hutch full of unwrapped hard candies that had long since hardened and congealed into one sticky mass of drawer-sugar. Yum. Pappy was no stranger to Great Jaja's eating habits and tended to steer clear of offered treats.

One day though, she came downstairs to see Jaja happily gobbling down a bowl of something orange. He looked up from his feast and addressed his granddaughter. "Pat!" he cried, "Do you like Jell-O?" Oh, is that what he was eating? OK. "Sure, I like Jell-O," she replied. "I made a bowl for you," he said, indicating another bowl, "you want some Jell-O?" She really didn't want any, and politely declined. "Aw, Jesus Christ, come on, have a bowl."

Not wanting to hurt her grandfather's feelings, and knowing it was just harmless orange Jell-O, Pappy relented. Taking the bowl of quivering translucent orange dessert, she dug in a spoon and took a bite.

And spat.

It.

Out.

And ran to the sink to wash out her mouth.

Furious, she shouted at Great Jaja, "THAT'S NOT JELL-O!" He replied, annoyed, "Oh horseshit it's not Jell-O. It's the Jell-O from the ham can!" Yes, that's right. The "Jell-O from the ham can". Great Jaja, having removed his ham lunch from the can, would make a second course of the salty orange gel left behind upon the ham's exit. This is disgusting. Patty Lebowski knew it was disgusting. You know it's disgusting. And I do too. But to Great Jaja, it was just a tasty treat that couldn't be beat. He ate her unfinished bowl of ham gel too.

Leading, By Examples #1 - The Eye of the Storm

Believe it or not, I am not a full-time writer for this blog. I know that it may be tough to believe that it doesn't take me a month of 40-hour work weeks to turn out each entry, but them's the facts, kids. Shoot, I don't even get paid to do this. I have an actual job, working at a college, and recently my professional world and my internet-talking-to-anyone-who-will-listen world have collided. As part of one of my involvements here on the campus, I've been asked to contribute to a blog about leadership for our students. Because I am a lazy, lazy man, but also because hey, maybe you'd like to read what I wrote over there, I have decided to share my blog posts from there here (and not vice versa). So, below, please enjoy the first leadership blog entry from yours truly, Remus Thirty. More to come! And don't worry, this won't be ALL I post from now on, it will just be something I also post.

"For months now, I’ve tried to think of what I can contribute to the leadership blog. What do I have to say that’s relevant, interesting, and entertaining on the topic of leadership? They say you should write what you know, and I’m something of a pop culture junkie, especially geek culture. We are what we are. As such, I’ve decided to write a series of entries that look at notable leaders from pop culture and examine just why they make good leaders. There’s no one “best” way to lead, but it is my hope that through looking at these characters, we can gain insight into some of the qualities that contribute to good, or even great leadership.

So, to whom should the first entry be dedicated? After much though, I decided to award yet another “first” to a character with several. Ladies and gentlemen, today we’re going to look at the character of Storm from the X-Men. Not the boring, misplayed Storm from the X-Men films (sorry Halle, you’re a great actress, but this was not a gem of a role for you), but the Storm from the comic books and 90’s cartoon. Storm, for those not familiar, was introduced in the 70’s, a mutant superhero with the ability to control the weather. Raised in Africa and worshipped as a goddess, Storm arrived on the scene at a time when Black comic heroes were extremely rare, and female characters were largely relegated to supporting roles. She changed the face of comics by becoming not just a major character, but the leader of her team. But why was she fit to lead? What qualities did Storm possess that gave her the iconic place in the history of superheroes that she holds?

Leaders possess strength. In this case, I’m not talking about Storm’s weather powers, which are largely irrelevant to the remainder of this blog entry. I’m talking about inner strength, strength of will. Within the Marvel Universe, Storm is known, even amongst other superheroes, for her iron, indomitable will. Even such heavy-hitters as Dr. Doom and Count Dracula himself have been impressed by her unassailable confidence, even in the face of mortal danger and total uncertainty. Now, leaders are, of course, human. We all get pushed to the breaking point sometimes, but leaders know that they are setting an example for those who follow them. We cannot buckle, because there are people counting on us.

We get stronger from experience, of course. Leaders have to embrace their pasts and their experience, even if unpleasant. Storm spent time as an orphan in Cairo picking pockets for a crime boss (secretly a supervillain… hey, it’s comics, folks). At times when super powers were no help, she has been able to draw on her experience as a thief and use the wisdom and skills gleaned from that questionable time to achieve her goals. So it is with more mundane leaders. Sometimes we have to look back into our pasts and draw from the most unlikely or painful places in order to proceed forward. Great leaders are open to this process, drawing strength from their challenges, instead of being trapped by them.

Leaders frequently must face their fears. Being in charge is scary. And when fearful and stressful times arise, people look to leaders for guidance. Storm suffers from claustrophobia, traumatized by a building collapse in her childhood. Yet, when she needed to enter the sewers of New York City to save her teammate, she faced her fears and entered, going so far as to do battle for leadership of the Morlocks, a group of mutants living in the tunnels beneath the city. Not because she wanted to, solely because she had to. And, as a great leader, she faced her worst fear to do so.

Finally, leaders lead by values. If leadership meant solely doing whatever it takes to achieve goals, some of the worst monsters of history and fiction would be “great” leaders. But truly great leaders live by a code. They know when there are more important factors than just completing the mission. Storm, as an example, has sworn to herself to not take lives. The power of the entire atmosphere at her disposal, and she won’t kill (OK, one exception when she THOUGHT she did, but that character turned out to have a 2nd heart… again, hey, it’s comics). It’s not so much WHAT the code a leader lives by says (within reason), but that there is a code there.

So think for yourself, what are sources of strength for you? What experiences in your past have contributed to your ability and versatility as a leader? What fears are you willing to face for your team or your cause? And what do you stand for? I believe these are questions whose mere contemplation is valuable for a leader, and your answers don’t have to be the same as Storm’s. But she’s there as an example, a beacon in the sky, to remind us of what we can do, super powers or no, in the service of those who depend on us and the causes we care about."

Snow Time Like the Present

As I look outside, there is more white stuff coating everything than even in the ending of Ghostbusters (you are welcome for that clean yet witty punchline). I know I am getting older because snow is finally starting to feel more like a curse to me than a blessing. I think how much a person likes snow is directly proportional to the amount of driving they're required to do in it. Oh to be 8 again and have snow mean no school, making forts, and drinking hot chocolate. I'd like to take a few moments to reflect on some snow-related things that come to mind, be they good, bad, or other. Without further ado, here's some snowstream-of-consciousness.

Ice Cream - Ice cream is basically snow evolved. Temperature? Same. Texture? Similar. Flavor? + 1,000,000. Some people think it's not fun to eat ice cream in the winter. If you barbecue over an open flame in the summer, why not eat freezing cold ice cream in the winter?

Ice Planet Hoth - The Empire Strikes Back is the best Star Wars movie. I know Star Wars and Return of the Jedi have their fans, and some blind idiot somewhere must be standing up for the prequel trilogy, but really, Empire is unassailable. Part of the charm of this movie is the opening sequence set on a frozen planet where the rebels have holed up. The battle with the Imperial Walkers, the Luke vs. Abominable Snowman sequence, the infamous Tauntaun makeshift sleeping bag (I make references to that ALL THE TIME)... it's just so memorable! And I'm not even particularly a Star Wars geek. A movie geek, yes, which is why I can geek out about Star Wars to some extent, but this isn't fanboy talk. Just sayin'.

Video Game Snow Levels - This is really a mixed bag of a category. Snow/Ice levels in video games tend to either be some of my absolute favorites or absolute hell. I find a direct correlation between how much "slidey" physics a game throws in and how much I want to throw a controller at the screen. My favorite snow level is the Ice Country area of Secret of Mana, which I've referenced before, in no small part thanks to the music which I find so soothing as to be near-therapeutic, as well as the crystal trees that gently change colors. I also like the Ice Cavern in Ocarina of Time despite the "slidey" floors. And I remember really liking the Snowfield area of Final Fantasy Adventure for Game Boy.

Skiing - I have not had the appropriate combination of time, money, and motivation to go skiing for several years now, but I used to love it. In theory, I still do. It's a sport where I don't have to feel like I'm constantly overheating, and it's a chance to move fast, really fast, when I'm more used to moving kinda slow. I used to go to a mountain in Canada every year during February break with my dad's mom's side of the family (The McDormand clan, which was my grandmother's maiden name before she became Lavinia Thirty, and later Lavinia Kodiak). I've got some very good memories of bombing down the slopes with my cousins, and hope to be able to get back into skiing again at some point.

That one shot from the first Lord of the Rings film - I love the Lord of the Rings films and books, and even the occasional video game. Within the film trilogy, there are numerous shots that are absolutely visually stunning, for any number of reasons. Sometimes it's because of the intricacy of the set work, or the expressions of the characters, or the excitement of the action. But my favorite shot in the entire trilogy is a very simple one. It's the shot, as the Fellowship approaches Caradhras the snowy mountain, of the ring on its chain, lying on the snow, having just been dropped by Frodo, who fell over. This is it, or close enough to it.

Woolly Mammoths - Or Mastodons. Either or. In any event, it has been a constant disappointment to me that they aren't around. I can distinctly remember times where I'd think about mammoths, then have the conscious thought, "and there aren't any of them." And then feel sad. BUT!!! Scientists are working on cloning them and having modern elephants carry them to term! In possibly as little as FOUR YEARS we may be a world that once again hosts my favorite ice age animal!!! SO. FREAKING. PUMPED.

Snow Days - They were awesome as a kid. Stay home, play in the snow, hang out... it was great. But as an adult... yep, still awesome.

Christmas - I know. I know I'm agnostic. I know I don't like most Christmas music. I know I don't like most Christmas movies, or Christmas television episodes. But I love Christmas. I really do. Just because I don't like much of what comes along with it doesn't mean I don't dig the holiday itself. And blame Irving Berlin (who I hope just liked snow and wasn't in fact a massive racist), but I associate the holiday with snow, which is one of the things that comes along with Christmas that I am A-OK with.

The Yeti - Probably not real. But would be cool.

One Particular Part of Driving in the Snow - In general, I hate driving in the snow. Even moreso sleet and other precipitation of the "Wintry Mix" variety. But I've always like the look of driving at night, when the snow is falling but not too heavily, of zooming into the snowflakes. It gives the feeling of flying into a starry night sky, and that's pretty damn cool.

The Sound - I really like the sound snow of moderate consistency makes when walked upon. The crunchy sound. Especially if it's otherwise quiet around.

Hostess Snowballs - I don't really like them that much, but they're OK I guess. I always liked Twinkies and Cupcakes better.

(Ant)Arctic Animal Species - Polar Bears, Snow Leopards, Walruses, Seals, Arctic Foxes, Penguins... some of the coolest animals are cold weather animals. As above, soon to be added to this list: WOOLLY FREAKING MAMMOTHS.

OK, that's enough for now. Stay warm, folks!

Tales From The Lebowskis - Kyle Rudedawg is a Smartass

I've mentioned before that growing up, I had some cousins who were more like the brothers I always wanted. Jimmy and Charlie Easterbreak were like my older brothers, and Chris and Kyle Rudedawg were/are like my younger brothers. Both of them are good kids (although less "kids" every day), and I've got a ton of great memories about them both. However, of the two of them, Kyle has inherited the legendary Lebowski wit and penchant for causing trouble a bit more than his older brother, who inherited the stubbornness and love for family a bit more. Kyle has been a rare case for a few years now. Most pre-teens/early teens, if they are considered "funny" by their peers, are downright obnoxious seeming to everyone else. Kyle has stayed genuinely adult-level funny since he was about 10, although not without the occasional bout of adolescent obnoxiousness.

Kyle likes to be provocative, making (and holding to) wild claims such as "Meghan Thirty maliciously pushed me down the stairs when I was two years old" (we don't THINK that one is true, anyway) and "The Beatles sucked." These are not one-off statements, these are repeated claims that he regularly reasserts. I think he enjoys watching the reactions as people (either my sister in the first case or my uncles in the second) work themselves into a frenzy arguing with him. He understands, as has been passed down from our grandfather, the man, the myth, Jaja, that "the shit don't stink unless you stir it." Actually, it wouldn't surprise me if that was stamped on a Lebowski coat of arms somewhere.

Kyle also has the gift of creative interpretations of "truth." I distinctly recall an incident one summer where Derek Dynamo, our cousin with Down's Syndrome, came up to where the adults were sitting on the porch of my parents house to complain that the other kids were throwing rocks at him. Chris and Kyle were sometimes troublemakers, but that sounded a little too evil to be the truth, and Derek sometimes has trouble communicating clearly, so we sent him back down to the basketball hoop to instruct his cousin Kyle to head up to the porch. Kyle arrived and stood ready for his interrogation. "Derek said you were throwing rocks at him." His eyes widened then narrowed again, a thoughtful look crossing over his face. "Derek's lying." "So you weren't throwing rocks at him?" Pause. "No." "Were you throwing rocks at all?" "No." "So what did happen?" "I don't know," and he paused again, then, "but I didn't throw any rocks at Derek."

Hmm, there was something fishy about this. We sent Kyle away to serve Chris, his older brother with the summons. Chris came up to the porch and was very forthcoming with his information. "Were you and your brother throwing rocks at Derek?" "What? No, Kyle threw the basketball at his head." "...Get your brother back up here." Kyle, upon his return, protested that he had told the complete truth, not a single rock was thrown. If we'd only ASKED about the basketball, he would've told us. Smartass.

This was pretty in line with his approach to mischief. He's clever enough to cause trouble in ways that generally evade detection, at least for a little while. When he was in like 1st grade or so, they used to all get out little carpet squares and sit in a circle for story time. Usually it was a mad dash for the kids to get to sit next to their best friends, but Kyle would approach the teacher every time instead and ask sweetly if he could sit next to her. Touched, his teacher would always agree. It took weeks of her scolding the children sitting directly across from her for disruptive laughing before she realized the true culprit was the child sitting directly beside her, in her blind spot, pulling faces and other such japes with impunity. Eventually the jig was up, but man did he have a good run.

Kyle is an artistic kid too, he enjoys drawing. Once he made an entire comic book of single page strips himself, hand-drawn. Now, it was typical child artwork, crooked lines, not the neatest text, etc, but it was pretty good for a kid. The strips focused on a trio of characters, one of whom was a complete screw-up, hated and mocked by the other characters and seemingly fate itself. Typical child "it's funny when bad things happen to someone" humor. One strip was about a set of three music concerts the characters held, one per character. The first two held a rock and rap concert respectively, and were met with wild applause. The third was something crappy, and was booed and had things thrown at him. Ha ha. The true humor lay in an unintentional printing mishap. You see, the signs on the stage for each concert were the genres plus the character's names. So first was Rock Joe (or whatever his name was). The last was like Country Tim or something like that. The middle character was named Ed. Ed gave a rap concert. Oh, and this is where I'll mention that all the letters were capitalized (e.g. ROCK JOE) and Kyle had issues with spacing. His sign read "RAP ED" or, with the spacing issue, "RAPED". It was completely unintentional on his part, but there it was. The 9-year-old's comic with the word "RAPED" emblazoned in the middle.

Kyle has one incident in particular that he recently described as the greatest moment of his life. Of course I had to respond with "you must have a pretty crappy life, then", but he is genuinely proud of this one. He was probably 6 or so at the time. Our cousin Devon Dynamo was converting her mother's attic into a bedroom for herself and I was watching Kyle that day during the summer, and we went over to help her with the painting. Now, it should be mentioned that Devon is a fairly emotionally reactive individual, and is a bit of a talker herself, periodically something of a wiseass too. So there we were, painting in the disgustingly hot attic, and Kyle is saying all sorts of funny nonsense, but Devon is getting annoyed with him. Now she must've been about 14 or so at the time, and was every bit of her a 14-year-old girl, with all that comes along with that. She had had enough of Kyle's yammering, and told him so.

"Kyle, my god, every year your mouth just gets bigger and bigger," she smirked, half-annoyed, half-proud of her line. Without missing a beat, Kyle, 6-year-old Kyle, turned his head and smirked back even bigger, then casually tossed out the following line, complete with his then-inability to say the letter R, "Yeah, well, youah THIGHS just get bigguh and bigguh evewy yeauh." He was DELIGHTED with himself. And Devon? Well, I've yet to see her so angry again. There was murder in her eyes. I'm fully convinced that if I weren't present, Kyle would've been thrown down the stairs face first after a brutal beating. I literally had to hold her off of him. And he just laughed and laughed.

Kyle Rudedawg is a smartass.

Tales From The Lebowskis - Diane Thirty: Unscripted

I've been blessed with two terrific parents. It's a corny thing to say, yes, but true nonetheless. There is much I've learned from each of them, and much I could say about each of them as well. Today though, I'd like to take a moment to talk about one of the traits that runs on the Lebowski side of the family: a quick wit. All of the children of the Lebowski-Jerboa union share this trait to a greater or lesser degree, and most of the grandchildren as well (I flatter myself amongst the grandchildren of wit). While she may not be as much of a natural spotlight-magnet as her younger siblings Hulka and Patty, my mother possesses the gift of a quick wit in spades. She is less of a storyteller, her gift is in her ability to play along with a situation or mutter a quick retort. Here are a collection of some of my favorite Diane Thirty off-the-cuff witticisms.

At a birthday dinner for Holly Lebowski (Hulka's beloved wife), we were all seated around a table in a restaurant. My mother is very particular about certain foods, and insists on only ever using REAL butter for her bread/rolls, not margarine. So when the basket of rolls arrived to the table with a mix of butter and margarine packets, she was nervous. The basket was going the wrong way around the table from her, and she was carefully watching as the stock of real butters gradually depleted. Eventually, the basket reached the diner directly to her right, her brother David "Blaze" Lebowski, with only 1 real butter left. Now, David is a scheming sort of guy, always up to do something to get a rise out of someone (another trait that runs in the family), so I can't say I blame my mother 100% for the preemptive strike she was about to launch, but it seemed harsh nonetheless.

As soon as the basket of rolls reached David's hands, it was slapped out of them, onto the table as my mother warned him, without a hint of warmth in her voice, "Don't even think about it, fuckhead." [alternative heard as "don't even think about it, dickhead."] She quickly snatched the last butter out of the basket and turned back to her conversation with my father, leaving David with his jaw on the table and only margarine for his roll. Now, I realize that wasn't a particularly "witty" comment to lead the tales of wit, but it was hilarious, fuckhead.

One Christmas in our old house, probably when I was about 13, 14 or so my mother had ordered a large leather recliner for my father for Christmas. It was a warm Christmas Eve that year, with very little, if any, snow on the ground. I recall being sent out onto the deck at some point in the morning with a bag of stale Rice Krispies to throw out to the birds. The house was built into a hillside, and the deck wrapped around from the side of the house where it was just a few steps up from the driveway to the back of the house where it stood above the slider doors to the finished part of the basement. I was feeling particularly lazy, and didn't feel like throwing handful after handful of cereal out onto the lawn proper, so I stood at the deck railing in the rear of the house and just upended the bag, dumping a pile of cereal down 1 story to the ground below where it remained.

Later that day, Dad's new chair arrived. My mother guided the deliverymen down from the driveway to the backyard and around to the basement doors to bring the chair in. She then noticed that to do so, they'd have to walk through a pile of Rice Krispies. Thinking quickly of a way to save face, she let the delivery man know that she'd asked her son to feed the birds that morning. But her son, she claimed, had Down's Syndrome, and didn't understand the task. How do I know she said this? After they left, she came upstairs and told me so. Angrily. As if it were my fault she lied and said I had Down's Syndrome.

Now, my cousin, Derek Dynamo, does in fact have Down's Syndrome, and he is one of the kindest-hearted young men you'd ever hope to meet, a real sensitive guy who loves his family and loves to make people laugh. One day my mother was sitting with her sisters, Susan (Derek's mother), and Patty chatting with their mother, Nonnie, and HER sister, Aunt Claire Philbert. Aunt Claire sometimes has a funky thought process, and doesn't quite follow exactly what's going on (but she is a very sweet and good person). At this particular time, Susan was talking about the accommodations Derek gets at school, including a dedicated para-educator. However, Aunt Claire didn't hear para-educator. Instead, she looked confused and asked my mother to clarify for her sister, just exactly, "what does the parrot do?". Now, my mother could've explained that Derek did not, in fact, have a parrot educator, but instead opted to tell her that the parrot uses its claws and beak to sharpen Derek's pencils. Aunt Claire looked not at all less confused by this, but blinked, nodded her acceptance, and sat back in her chair. To my knowledge, she has not, to this day, been corrected.

The final moment of unscripted, muttered wit I'll share today happened during a family game of Monopoly Junior. Monopoly Junior is like regular monopoly, but with fewer properties, set in an amusement park, and with the dollar values greatly reduced, usually by a factor of $100 or so. Also, the man currently officially known as Mr. Monopoly featured more prominently in the various cards and properties. However, Mr. Monopoly went by a different name back then. Back then, he was Rich Uncle Pennybags.

It was a typical family board game, the type pictured in print ads for the very same board games. All four members of the Thirty family were sitting on the living room rug, Steven and Diane Thirty patiently playing this childrens' game with Meghan and I. Mom was not winning though, and was becoming mildly annoyed with her poor luck. She rolled, and landed on one of the card drawing spaces, taking a card. She grumbled about how she had to pay back a $3 loan to her rich uncle. However, her description of this was "Oh, damn it, fine, pay $3 to Uncle Peniswhistle." Meghan and I laughed so hard we couldn't finish the game.

Uncle Peniswhistle.

Hahahahaha, it's still funny.