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We live in an age allowing you to watch 87-year-old toons on a whim. This'll never get old. https://t.co/mlAAbtmJih pic.twitter.com/xC53psnxjG
— kenny smith (@kennysmith) March 13, 2016
But you look at those screen grabs and really consider the cartoon and think: Mickey was a borderline sociopath in his early days.
Modern psychologists and media analysts would have a field day with this stuff.
Walking from one room to another and you see the dangling cat pose:
Now the key to getting that shot is being casual. I’ve learned that she’s learned to not care for having a phone in her face. (She’s OK with an actual camera, which makes noise, for whatever reason.)
You walk by, and then you pull out your phone and open your app and then you crouch down and casually frame the shoot and shoot a few frames.
So you have your safety shots and you think about moving in a little closer. Tighter compositions, you tell people continually. And then:
You hit the sleep button on your camera, because it won’t get any better than that.
Sometimes we go for short rides in the car. Mostly for pictures like this:
Oh, like you don’t drive your pets around.
She actually likes the car, for the most part. Or, to fit the feline paradigm, she tolerates it.
We got to see Liam today. In a word, he’s healthy.
We were going to dinner with friends one night when The Yankee saw on Facebook that he’d just been diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia. His parents had found bruises that they couldn’t explain and so they went to the pediatrician and that doctor wisely sent them to Birmingham and they caught it in a hurry. I walked from the table at the restaurant that night to the restroom and looked up this form of leukemia, marveling at Google’s knowing what I meant, but also at the prognosis. If it was caught quickly, and with the proper care, it was a scary, hard thing, but easily survivable. And Liam’s parents are marvelous, and they’re fortunate to have good health care and he has had some scare times, and some hard years, and he’s spent too much of his early childhood in a car driving to hospitals, getting poked and prodded, wearing masks and helmets and having his social life limited. But the kid is doing great. He’s amazing. He walked in, sat on our sofa and pronounced it “Quite comfortable.” And then he just plays at that high speed that kids continually run in. Liam is healthy.
So this is a good reminder about how easy it is to register for blood marrow donations. You can do the entire effortless, painless registration in less time than it is taking you to read this. Send off for the forms. When they arrive, swab your cheeks, put them in the envelope and drop them in the mail. You’ve joined the national registry; maybe you’ll get the chance to help somebody one day. Find out more here.
In another word, he’s adorable. That kid has style. Completely holds a room with his charm. Though you wish he’d come out of his shell and be a bit more precocious.
Took a carload, and I do mean a car full, of stuff to Goodwill today. A nice lady came out with two giant bins and helped me pull stuff out of the car and then into their storefront. She told me stories of things she has found in the donations they receive. You wouldn’t want to believe them, really. But then she also noticed a pair of cufflinks that she was pretty sure I didn’t want to donate. And she was correct.
She thanked me and told me to bring the rest — because there’s more to donate — and then gave me the tax forms that I tried to avoid and then literature:
That trip thinned out two closets and some stuff from the attic and garage.
Later there was baseball, which has become an event more about people and friends than the game itself. And, also, peanuts:
You don’t see as many three-kernel peanuts as you used to, you think. But then you remember, oh that’s about varieties. And when you get the three-kernel prize out of a giant bag of Virginia peanuts. Or maybe runners. Hard to tell.
