The Wife recently introduced me to Tim Minchin, who is, well, brilliant.  He’s also an outspoken atheist, a rather well-read intellectual, and occasionally fairly vulgar. Oh, and he’s often very funny.

Not sure what it means, though, that the video link she sent along to expose me to Mr. Minchin is for the following song. No worries, by the way, this one ain’t dirty. And, yes, he’s totally making fun of pop singers with his shimmy and, um, look:

I have a confession to make: I’m in my 30s now, a father twice over, and many years away from midnight college snacks — even if I did extend my college years by a decade or so — yet I still eat at Taco Bell.

I know. I know.

But the truth is … well, I can’t help it. I might be addicted. Horribly and uncontrollably addicted. In fact, it’s probably something in their Chicken Quesadillas, which are perhaps only passed in their addictiveness by one other fast food product, which also (hmmmmm) happens to be from Taco Bell. To put it in a standard Miller Analogies Test form (appropriate to college dudes):

Q. Cocaine : Chicken Quesadilla :: Crack Cocaine :

(Answer at the end.)

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We’ve been back in Charleston for a couple of days now. The trip to DisneyWorld was absolutely marvelous. I hadn’t been there since high school, and boy have things changed.

This was me then, in 1992, standing in front of Splash Mountain in the Magic Kingdom with my Dad:

Disneyworld, 1992

And this is me now, in 2010, standing in front of the Tree of Life in the Animal Kingdom that didn’t exist back then with my Dad, Mom, Wife, and two Wee Ones who also didn’t exist back then:

Disneyworld, 2010

Amazing, isn’t it? I mean, we were sorta fuzzy back in the day, and now — clear as can be!

In all seriousness, this was an amazing trip. My life had been, as was last reported hereabouts, quite busy. I needed a break. And Disneyworld ain’t a bad place for a break, my friends. And I can’t think of anyone I’d rather take the break with than my terrific family. It was a wonderful generational experience. From the kids to their grandkids — see what I did there? Disneyworld makes everyone a kid! — we all had a blast.

We stayed on Mouse’s Grounds, at the Port Orleans French Quarter Resort, and it was slick. The magic just didn’t really end: day or night, we were in Mickey’s world of wonder. Had a great room, too.

The new Animal Kingdom was swell, but I think my favorite part was seeing the lad’s joy every time he saw Mickey (his love of the mouse is documented elsewhere here). Parenthood is truly amazing in addition to being tiring.

Alas, it’s a bit more tiring than usual these past few days. The kids both ran fevers on the way down there, and while we were there those fevers morphed into colds. The Wee Lass got hit particularly hard — by the time we got back to Charleston she had ear infections in both ears, poor girl (is on antibiotics now). I got hit with the cold on our second-to-last day there, in Epcot. I’m only now getting over the hump with it, I think.

On the plus side, the next couple weeks are relatively free of pressing demands, which means I’ll be able to catch folks up on life a bit more regularly.

For the Jeepers out there, that also means another Project XK post is coming up!

***

[Edit of 27 May: The Wife found a less fuzzy picture from Disneyworld past, this one of me and my Mom in line at Indiana Jones Show in Disney's Hollywood Studios (which was then Disney MGM Studios or something like that):

Disneyworld Indiana Jones Show, 1992

Too cute!]

I’m feeling a bit like an episode of “Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?” — my life somehow went crazy in these past couple of weeks.

The semester came to an end, of course, which is typically a test of a teacher’s sanity. Yet that wasn’t enough this time. Oh, no. Not at all.

At the start of May, as finals were still wrapping up, I hopped in my Commander and drove from Charleston to Monroe, Louisiana. About 14 hours or so. I then spent two and a half days working on the Jeep there, stripping my BDS lift kit and replacing it with one from Superlift. And doing some other Jeep-related things, too. Exhausting. Then I drove back.

I then had two days to pack up the entirety of my office at work. They’re gutting the HVAC system of our building, and we’re being moved to barracks for the summer. (I’m in D Company for the next couple of months.)

Meanwhile, I had a sudden raging fire to put out as Chair of the Montessori Parents Association at the lad’s school (a position to which I was recently inexplicably elected). The district School Board had decided to smother our playground with another school in mobile trailer units, so I had to call out the troops, write letters, kick and cajole folks to action, and sit through one meeting after another, in between which …

Graduation. This was the class that I’d started here with, the ones who’d grown up with me here at El Cid. It was touching. And cool. Give ‘em Hell out there, Class of 2010!

… and so more fighting against the terrible choice by the School Board, which culminated in them rescinding their vote and essentially capitulating to the desire of our forces. Which was a huge relief.

With such things out of the way, I was able to turn to writing an academic paper that I’m scheduled to present on Saturday at the International Congress on Medieval Studies. Finished the paper yesterday, and I’m leaving for the conference tomorrow. No time like the last minute, eh?

So now I’ll be off to Michigan for a few days, getting back on Sunday.

Then one (1) day of relaxing and repacking, before we leave for a week at Disneyworld. Which will. not. suck.

The nearing-four-year-old boy was in the bath tonight, playing with his toys. Among them, a big blue shark and a few much smaller floating animal toys.

The plastic shark, predictably, went after the other animals in the bath — mainly the sea turtle and the dolphin — growling about how he was going to eat them. (Who’s raising this kid, anyway?)

He chased them all the way up the side of the bath, in fact, until they slipped into the soap-holder cavity in the wall just a moment before the sharp and angry jaws of made-in-China inanimate death closed upon them.

The shark paced in the air menacingly, watching the trapped victims.

My son then moved one hand to the turtle and joggled it a bit as he said, in a high and squeeky voice, “What do you want? Use your words.”

“I want to eat you,” said the shark.

“We just want to live in the ocean together,” said the turtle. “To swim and be happy.”

“Okay,” the shark replied. Then he retreated down to the bathwater where he was joined by his once-trapped foes.

“See?” The turtle said, “Now we’re friends.”

See how easy it is, folks? You see, Democrats and Republicans? Just use your words.

Just a quick gasp from end-of-term grading to note that the lass turned one today!

A recent image, just so folks know that we’re raising her right:

Elanor with lunch-time fruit as headgear.

She’s actually very excited in this picture. Very proud of herself for perching the pear upon her wee noggin’.

Another couple pictures, just because she’s so darn cute:

Elanor making her "scrunchy" face.

Elanor behind bars.

Adorable, ain’t she? This last one is particularly fascinating to me, since she appears so, well, grown-up somehow. Looking at her face I can “age” her in my mind into a teenager for some reason.

Wow. I suddenly have the urge to sharpen my axe. It’s never too early to plan for would-be boyfriends.