My Goodwill Codes

I've been reading "The Baseball Codes: Beanballs, Sign Stealing, and Bench-Clearing Brawls: The Unwritten Rules of America's Pastime". 

According to Amazon, "In The Baseball Codes, old-timers and all-time greats share their insights into the game’s most hallowed—and least known—traditions. For the learned and the casual baseball fan alike, the result is illuminating and thoroughly entertaining."

This book has got me thinking. What unwritten rules do I know? Do I know any teaching codes?

Sure I do: In a staff meeting, never ask more than one public question, unless you want to appear arrogant. Never start a new discussion with less than five minutes left in a staff meeting, unless you want to be hated. Don't trust a staff member who prefers to sit in the dark. If you're not a coach, never complain to one about how long the day feels. Never plan on a snow day...

Nah. I don't want to write about my profession. I often write at home, and I don't want to explore those ideas at home. Besides, only new teachers need to learn the unwritten rules, and they won't read them because they think they know everything already. I know this is true because I was once a new teacher.

It would be more fun to write about Goodwill. Who knows more about thrift stores than me? Probably a lot of people. But I don't know those people, and they won't pass their knowledge onto Charlotte. Here's a list she and I will go over before we hit the thrift trail together:

"The Goodwill Codes: Oddballs, Cart Wheeling, and Smelling Like Menthols: The Unwritten Rules of America's Thrift Stores".

"There can be only one." (Highlander movie series.) - Almost every item in a thrift store is the only one of its kind for sale. This one rule breeds competition, jealousy, and theft. It's the catalyst for most of my other rules.

That item maybe the only one they have today... - Sure that complete Nintendo system in a someone else's cart may be the last one you see for awhile, but trust me. Nintendo made millions of systems. If you remain diligent, then you will see another for sale again. It will probably be at a cheaper price, too.

You can't call "dibs", and walk away. - Unless an item is in your hands, your basket, or your cart, it's fair game for everyone else. Shopping baskets aren't for holding your items; they are for protecting your items from others.

Other customers are watching you out of the corners of their eyes. - Holding up an item to inspect it increases everyone's interest in that item tenfold. Quadruple that interest if you verbally praise the item. Returning the item to the shelf to "think about it" guarantees it will be gone as soon as you turn away.

If you decide you no longer want an item your in your basket, then return it to the shelf where you found it. - Don't leave that old Walkman on the underwear shelf. Okay, there really isn't an underwear shelf at Goodwill, but in St. Louis I did see a men's clothing rack in a Salvation Army store that had slightly yellowed tighty-whiteys and old stretched out boxer shorts for sale. Each "under garment" was hung from the clips of individual hangers. Unfortunately, it's a sight that cannot be unseen.

When inspecting a lower shelf, kneel parallel to the shelves. - If you hang your bottom out into the aisle while you're bending over, then you'll get barked at, hit by a cart, or both. Probably both. In order to get as much product on the floor, the isles of thrift stores tend to be tight. Shopping carts aren't battering rams, but thrift shoppers tend to have the attitude, "I've got the cart. You get out of my way."

Be wary of thrift stores on the weekends. - These are peak shopping days of the week. The stores are packed, the lines are long, and tempers are short. Not only have your chances of scoring a cool find diminished, the humanity is multiplied by five: instead of one old guy walking around talking to himself, there are now five old men walking around talking to themselves. Body odor is also multiplied. I was once standing in a line for so long that I absorbed the smell of smoke from the other customers. When I got home my clothes reeked as if I had been at the casino. If you have to go thriftin' on the weekend, make sure you go as soon as the store opens.

Don't park next to cars without hubcaps or vans in any condition. - Door dings and/ or abductions can result.

Assume all working items will soon break. - Change the question "Does this work?" to "Can I fix this?" I've learned a lot by trying to fix items that later broke. Usually my monetary investment is so low that I dare take the thing apart to see what happened. Many times I fail at completing a repair, but the knowledge I gained has helped me in the future. That's worth more than the item or its price.

Sometimes an item not worth repairing should be purchased. - I really enjoy McDonald's double hamburgers. They currently cost 99 cents, and take me about three minutes to consume. The electronic toys at Goodwill generally cost 79 cents, and most of the toys I have cleaned up for Charlotte have lasted for weeks or more. When a toy does break, I throw it away during her nap. I then compare the time it takes me to enjoy a double hamburger to the amount of time the toy has entertained Charlotte, and know that I came out ahead.

If you can't use a electrical outlet to test an electric item, then leave the item behind. - I don't know why people would donate their broken property, but they do. If you are considering giving Goodwill an item that doesn't work because, "Well, maybe someone would want it.", then put it in the trash instead; that someone is probably at the dump. No one shops in hopes of buying broken stuff.

If you can use an electrical outlet to test an electric item, use other items in the store to help test it. - Not sure if that dented Blu-ray player works? Find a DVD and give it a spin. You don't even need a TV - if you see the word "play" appear and/ or a triangle pointing  to the right, and/or a moving counter (00:00, 00:01, 00:02...) odds are you are good to go. This applies to DVD, CD, VHS, and cassette players too.

This means "walk away":

Carry double and triple A batteries to test small electronics. - Just keep them in your car's glove compartment. If you don't have batteries with you, you can often find them in children's toys. A folding pocket tool with a small phillips head screwdriver is useful to get them out of the toy, but again, look around. Sometimes you can find the tools you need for sale on another shelf.

Don't be deterred by scuffs, marks, or stickers. - Goo Gone and Windex can clean up almost anything. I also use toothpicks for deep cleaning. They are great for getting dirt out of plastic seams, and the ridges around buttons (like game controllers). The wood is too soft to scratch most surfaces.

You don't need dressing rooms. - I've hated dressing rooms since I was a kid, and I don't trust that  an absent minded shopper won't lock me in by leaving a cart in front of my dressing room's door. So, if you find a cool pair of jeans, but are unsure if the waste size is accurate, just button the jeans and wrap the folded waistline around you neck like a necklace. Your neck is roughly half the size of your waist, so if the jeans fit comfortably around your neck you're all set. Don't believe it? Try it with your clothes at home.

Look for "theme" tables or "theme"clothing racks. - Sometimes the employees will get creative with the displays and gather similar items for sale. This year I was looking for a cheesy Christmas sweater to wear at school, and I kept checking the sweater rack. Turns out they had all the Xmas-themed sweaters on a rack I never browse. Here's the Xmas sweater I almost missed.

Break from your routine "shopping path". - When you get to know a store well you can usually breeze through in about a third of the time it would take to just roam around. The trouble is that employee turnaround can be pretty quick, and the new kid with the elongated earlobes might not know the third shelf in the back of the store is where he should put those steak knives. He might dump it by the children's toys. Which leads me to:

Keep small children in the shopping cart. - It might not dawn on you that someone might actually leave garden shears next to the box of Beanie Babies, but you just never know. A few weeks ago I saw a meat slicer just sitting on a couch directly across from the children's toys. I couldn't help but shutter as I moved it to a high shelf.

Broaden your goal when Goodwill hunting - Don't go shopping only for blank. You probably won't find blank, but you might find that childhood toy you forgot you always wanted.

If you're in a hurry to buy your items, look at what's in the shopping carts ahead of you. - A cart full of clothes is checked out much faster that a cart half full of glassware. Clothes can be quickly folded and stuffed into the shopping bags, but the checker will have to individually and carefully wrap each glass item in newspaper. This seems like it takes forever.

Look around; more things may also come with your purchase. - People are great at opening boxes to see what's inside, and terrible at putting the contents back. If you find something cool, check around the nearest shelves to see if the box, headphones, cables, remote, battery charger, instructions, lens cover, or anything else may have been separated from the group.

Flip it over. - Blurays, DVDs, CDs, and records can all be easily scratched. Check the side of media that the player "reads". Fingerprints can be easily wiped off, and light scratches can be buffed out, but deep scratches are a pain and probably not worth the work.

Look inside. - Blu-rays, DVDs, VHS tapes, CDs, cassettes tapes, records, video games, board games, puzzles, and even hardcover books need to be checked. Make sure the item is inside and that it matches the cover or the box. Mismatching happens all the time. Sometimes it's an accident, and sometimes people move a more expensive item into a cheaper case. Charlotte, that's called stealing.

Look for the remote. - I already said you should check around for a remote, but if you're considering buying a modern electronic device like a Blu-ray player, make sure you find it. If you can't, then walk away. You need that remote for so many of the player's functions. Without it, the player is almost useless. And since it's a special item, buying the correct remote from eBay will often cost double  or triple of what you spent on the device.

Make sure it needs a remote. - If you're looking for vintage audio equipment, don't fret if you can't find the remote controller. There's a chance the devise didn't have one. Check for this symbol:

(Thanks, Wikipedia.)

Usually it's small.

And sometimes it isn't there. Do you see that dark square in the above photo? That's probably the remote sensor. Sometimes you can find the words "Remote Sensor".

If you don't see the symbol, the words, or the square, then maybe it isn't remote compatible - like this Sanyo CD player I use in my classroom.

Forget about the remote. - For awhile I had a thing about collecting movies on CED. CED Link I found a sweet RCA Selectavison player at a thrift store, and it was remote compatible  Those are a bit rare. Of course the remote was missing, but I bought the player anyway. Later I discovered that I could use a universal remote from the Dollar Store to control the RCA. (If you're curious, the code is AUX, and then 058.)

Don't openly mock the store or what it sells. - If you are with a friend or shopping in a small group, then a laugh here or there is okay. But plenty of people are shopping thrift because it is the only place they can afford. There's no need to insult them.

Sometimes a big laugh can't be helped. - I was shopping with my friend Matt and he pointed out a used underarm deodorant for sale in the window. There was no cap, and the sun had melted away all of the product except a small, green blob on the end of the pointed plastic riser. The price was 10 cents. That might not seem funny to you, but when he handed it to me and I looked inside and saw that blob, I almost lost it. I don't know if it was the blob, or the fact they still wanted a dime for it.

Employees can be just as maladjusted as the customers. - Don't expect good manners from anyone else, but always show them to others. There's not a lot of kindness in thrift stores, and you don't need to contribute to that atmosphere.

Always correct the teller if they charge you less than the sticker price. - Most of the time the teller won't want to take the time to correct their error, but if you see that a mistake was made and you don't point it out, then you are responsible as well. Charlotte, that's also called stealing.

Have fun! I always get excited before I enter a thrift store. It's like an Easter egg hunt, but you have no idea if the eggs will even be eggs.

USA's Night Flight

I was in 6th grade when my town, Rock Valley, Iowa, finally got cable TV. I still remember coming home from school and finding a strange box with a dial sitting on top of the TV.

These were all the channels we had until that day.

It might look like we had 14 channels, but you never got that many. I think the most the TV antenna attached to our roof could bring in was six. But on that Friday afternoon our channel count leapt from six to 21. That was pretty impressive.

Of those 21 channels, HBO had me the most excited. I can remember the opening video that preceded the feature presentation better than most of the films I watched. I loved that model city the camera pans through and over.

I bet a lot of people don't remember that in the beginning HBO was only on air nine hours a day. From midnight to 3 p.m. all you could see was a blue background with the movie schedule crawling up the screen. It was a big deal when HBO started using a 24-hour schedule on the weekends a few months later.

MTV launched the same year we got cable (1981), but Rock Valley's cable company never offered it. Sure, HBO would sometimes fill airtime between movies with music videos, but that wasn't much good for a music crazy kid like me.

Instead, we had the USA Network. And that wasn't all bad. You didn't get music video 24-7, but you could watch the 30-minute program Radio 1990 every weekday at 5 p.m.

And on weekends you could expose yourself to other cultures.

But best of all, you could catch a ride with Night Flight. A few days ago Paste magazine published a list of the 80 Best TV Shows of the 80s, and Night Flight was at number 66:

I don't know how many of my boring, small town weekends were filled with the zaniness that was Night Flight. But I do know I was one of those impressionable teens; Night Flight was proof to me that the world was much bigger than self-righteous Sioux county.

Few, if any, of my friends watched Night Flight, and I didn't meet many people who had saw it when I attended college in South Dakota and Nebraska. So, Night Flight just drifted into a distant adolescent memory.

Every so offen I'd come across something from the 80s that would remind me of Night Flight - like seeing a video for "Beds are Burning" by Midnight Oil (Night Flight once aired a complete Midnight Oil concert). Then I'd Google around to see if I could find anything Night Flight-related. A couple of years ago I happened upon the iOffer website. A seller was offering a 35 DVD set of Night Flight episodes (115 hours) for $49.00. He, I assumed it was a guy, had recorded those 115 hours on videotapes, and these DVDs were the transfers from VHS. At less than $1.50 per disc, the price didn't seem unreasonable, and the seller had good feedback. Anymore, I don't buy anything online without checking feedback first- do you? So I took a chance.

I'm glad I did! Now I can relive my well spent youth while I'm out in the garage. Here's my low-buck stereo setup.

That's Daphne's old 13-inch tube TV that I convinced her not to throw away. Hooked up to it is a $3.99 Apex DVD player, and a $14.99 Harmon/Kardon computer speaker system - both from Goodwill. The speakers connect to the DVD player with a headphone jack/ RCA cord, and the cable TV connects to the DVD player through a used FM modulator.

It sounds really good, an it's surprising how much bass the Harmon/Kardon woofer puts out. Here's what I see when I roll out from under my car.

When I first started recording programs on a VCR, I tried to pause the recordings during commercials to make the tape seem more professional. Now I enjoy the old commercials as much as the old features. Check out the dude's hairdo and the grocery gal's shoulder pads in this news spot (you might be able to still get in on channel 8's "Week of Caring" - you're only 30 years tardy).

VHS quality recordings look pretty poor on modern televisions, but they look pretty good on tube TVs. So I think it's fitting that I play these recordings in the garage.

It's too bad that it got so cold this week. I think I'll wear a stocking cap while I watch that Midnight Oil concert tonight.

Taking Flight

The only high school sport I was any good at was track. But even that success was limited. My short legs kept me out of the high and long jumps, I wasn't big enough to "put" the shot anywhere, and I was about as quick as the month of January.

When I was a freshman I even tried to pole vault. It was after a winter practice in the gym. I ran the pole down the floor, but I missed the metal box that the pole plants in, and the end of the pole was instead wedged behind the box and against the thick, red mat. The pole was bent, but I could see it had no hope of lifting me. I released my grip, and to my horror the pole sprang into flight, did a midair flip, and then crashed into the electronic scoreboard. Sparks and shattered bits of light bulbs exploded from the wall. I can't remember how many bad words my coached used, but it was a lot. I wasn't even allowed to carry the pole vault bag to the bus after that.

That scoreboard was broken for a month, and every time I walked into the gym for P.E. I tried to not look at it. The dent and empty bulb sockets were glaring reminders of how pathetic I was.

So, why did I say I was good at track? Well, as far as athletic talent goes, my only strength was that I could endure pain. And that's what made me so well suited to be a long distance runner. I've got terrible eye-hand coordination, but to be competitive in long distance races all I had to do was remain upright and make subtle left turns. I could do that.

I didn't have any real strategy when I began running races. I'd just set my pace so I'd be near the front of the pack. If it was painful, I'd just put up with it. When the time came to make the final turn, I'd crank up my pace to where it was almost intolerable and then I’d see what would happen. That didn't work for every race, but I did win quite a few.

My problem was I'd get so nervous. I was afraid I'd let down my team, disappoint my coach, and embarrass my parents. It's not like I hadn't done that in other sports. Then there was that pain. Yes, I could endure it, but I also dreaded the enduring. On track meet days I couldn't concentrate in class, and I wouldn't eat anything at lunch. By the time I stepped off the bus that afternoon I'd be sick to my stomach.

The 3200 meter run was always the first race of the meet, the 1600 was in the middle, and the open 800 was near the end. By the time I was off the track and off the hook, the concessions were closed. And by the time I got home around 10 pm, I'd be starving.

That's when I could count on my dad. He'd never tell me that he was proud of me; we didn't have that kind of a relationship. But as soon as I walked into the house there would be a steak dinner waiting for me. Sound fancy? Not really. We had a permanent gas grill in our back yard that was hooked up to an underground gas line, and Dad grilled dinner three times a week. Every year he'd buy some large package deal from the Rock Valley butcher, and we always had a  freezer full of meat. Dad's way of telling you he loved you was to make you dinner.

I'm the same way with my family, but I say the words, too.

Back then the Monsons always ate on trays in the TV room, and Mom, Dad, and I would watch the end of the news while I scarfed down my meal. Soon they'd go to bed, but I was too hopped up on adrenaline and protein to hit the sheets, and so I'd turn the TV to the USA Network. At 11:00 that station would start airing my favorite TV show of all-time Night Flight!

And that's what I'm going to write about tomorrow.

All Up In My Grill Marks

I wrote this yesterday:

Winter won't officially arrive until December 21, but from the looks of the weather forecast for Des Moines, I think winter actually starts tomorrow.

I spent Sunday afternoon getting the yard ready for the temperature drop. I raked and mulched the leaves. I also blew out the garden hoses and stored them in the garage. That means I shouldn't have much to do tonight when I get home. It'll still be near 60 degrees, so I should have one last night this season for one of my favorite activities.

Tonight, I grill!

If I'm outside, I only grill with charcoal, and I only grill with charcoal on a Weber Kettle Grill. I picked up my first Weber grill at a Goodwill (gasp!), and I fell in love with using it. That model was from the 70s, and it looked a lot like this.

I spent one great summer with Ryan and Kiyomi Dughman learning how to put that grill though its paces. If I hadn't moved out of the townhouse and into a condo, I wouldn't have gotten rid of it.

After Daphne and I got married, we lived in that cheap condo for a year, and after 12 frugal months we had saved $15,000 for a house down payment. Before we even moved Daphne bought me a replacement grill, and I used it all the time. Even a snow storm couldn't slow down my Weber. 

Over the course of 10 years the vent covers in that grill rusted, and one broke just one week before we moved to our second house. I should have fixed it, but moving sucks the life right out of you. I left the Weber behind and hoped the new owners of our old house would either use it or give it a respectable burial.

I had a new Weber in the new back yard within a week, but I learned last year not to grill in the winter. I grilled in our old backyard at the bottom of a hill, and the six-foot fence surrounding our property kept me pretty well protected from the wind. Our new place is on the top of a hill, and the winter wind that blows up there is too cutting. Grilling should be fun, not painful.

So, tonight's my grill's last gasp of '14. I was thinking steaks, onions, portobella mushrooms, and olive bread, but then I checked the weather in the afternoon.

Looks like it might be nicer than I thought. Maybe I should go with Iowa Cut pork chops? They take more time...

Three hours later:

When I got in my car at 3:45 the temperature was 60 degrees, and by the time I got out of the grocery store it was 55 degrees. Then the wind picked up, and clouds turned dark. But I was undeterred. I lit the newspaper in my chimney starter at 5:00, and by 5:30 I was grilling.

Too bad I forgot that daylight savings makes 5:30 look like 6:30. I had to use a flashlight to read the meat thermometer, and I think it was closer to 45 degrees when I brought dinner into the house.

The 12 oz rib eyes were great, and I didn't burn the vegetables too much, so the meal was a success. But in a way I'm glad it turned out to be a poor night for grilling. Now when I look at the snow filling the backyard I won't miss my grill as much.

Then again, I can't forget that this is Iowa. There's a chance we'll have a day in December that's 60 degrees. I better not store the charcoal too far back in my garage.

I Sing High with a Little Help from My Friend

It's always interesting when Char's Sunday School class goes in front of the church to sing. And by "interesting", I mean, "What is she doing?"

She has held on to the altar rail and performed fake ballet moves, and she has silently pouted with arms crossed her chest. For the Christmas program she curled into a ball and "showed everybody my bottom", and for Easter she stood there with a cat on her head.

See? It's always interesting. I think the best way to handle her performance is to just roll with it and think, What can you do? She's only four.

For the record, she doesn't come to church with toys. St. Stephens provides activity bags for kids.

Inside you'll find games, puzzles, coloring books, crayons, snacks, toys, and Char's favorite - a Beanie Baby. Why didn't they have these when I was a kid? Sheesh. Back then you were happy to scribble with that stubby pencil that didn't have an eraser.

Anyway, Char went up in front of the church this morning with her new best friend - Stuffed Dog, and she actually sang! She and dog even did the motions.

My camera work is a bit shaky, and we're in the back of the church (if Char can see us she loses focus), but I have proof she can do it.

We'll have to watch this a few times before this year's Christmas Pageant.

You Don't Know, Jack

I was in a grocery store a few days ago, and I actually remembered that we are almost out of syrup. But if you threatened me with a pair of pliers and a blowtorch, I couldn't tell you what brand of syrup I buy. I just know it's the microwaveable kind, and it has that magical sensor that tells me when the syrup's hot.

I headed over to the syrup aisle and started mumbling, "Microwaveable bottle, microwaveable bottle, microwaveable bottle..." as I scanned the shelves. Nothing. What? None of the syrup bottles had that magic temperature window. I checked the shelves again; I've been known to miss things that are directly in front of my nose. Nope. No magic syrup. I was in a Dahl's grocery store, and I know they have been scaling back to try to keep their stores afloat, so I chalked it up to their business model.

But I was at HyVee last night, and I couldn't find my magic syrup there, either. What gives? What brand of syrup am I even looking for? I had to go home to see what kind of syrup I buy. The bottle was in the cupboard.

Hungry Jack [slaps forehead]! That's it! To see who sells it, I googled "Hungry Jack microwave" and this is what came up.

Discontinued? What gives? I checked Hungry Jack's Facebook page. Shelia Miller had already asked my question.

What consumer preference shift? I'm throwing a BS flag on the field. When was the last time a consumer thought, "You know, warming syrup in this bottle is really convenient, but what I really want is an extra step or two. Hungry Jack, could you make my breakfast more complicated?" There was no time. No one has ever thought that.

But it's true. The old bottles are gone, and the new ones are too tall for a microwave.

If I had to guess, I'd say it is somehow tied to health concerns, but Hungry Jack's been selling these bottles for decades, so they can't admit, "You know what? We've been secretly making millions of people sick for years, and we have decided to stop because we love you, and we don't want to pay millions of dollars in legal fees." 

So, they're blaming you for making this change, even if they didn't really ask you.

If you want the old bottle, you can check what people are charging on Amazon.

Of course there's always eBay. (I can't believe two sets of these sold.)

At those prices all I have left is about three dollars' worth of liquid, buttery gold.

The new syrup containers have "Do Not Microwave in Bottle" printed on them, but I bet people will pour new syrup into their old bottles. And if they're like me, they won't care what brand of syrup they use now. When I'm at home, I'm not a syrup connoisseur. I just like magic. 

Time to head over to Big Lots - land of discontinued products.

Score! $2.50 is a lot better than $14.95. 

I wonder if sugar free magic is less magical than sugar filled magic? We'l have to see.

Addendum: Sugar free magic tastes terrible.

The Halloween That Wasn't

This is the way Halloween ends
    This is the way Halloween ends
        This is the way Halloween ends
            Not with a bang but a fever.

Apologies to T.S. Eliot.

In order to curb Halloween vandalism in the 1930's, Des Moines moved trick or treating to the 30th and renamed it Beggars' Night. It's a tradition that's still followed today, but I don't like it. I'd rather hand out candy on Halloween like the rest of the US, but I have to deal with the cards that I'm dealt.

Charlotte also had to deal with the cards she was dealt last night. At daycare and preschool, the Pink Spider was ready for action!

But when she got home, her eyes were glassy and her head and neck hurt.  I could tell she had a fever as soon as I pressed my hand across her forehead. The Pink Spider crawled into the couch, covered herself with a Halloween quilt, and spun no webs. 

I put away the pumpkin carving tools and took off my Pink Spider henchmen shirt. Char and I watched a new episode of Blaze and the Monster Machines while Mom went to the store for some cans of chicken soup and stars. 

Char agreed she was too sick to go trick or treating, and she didn't seem to be too upset about it. Later she recognized some Disney Princesses from the neighborhood at her door, and she realized what she was missing. That's when the dam broke.

We tried to console her. We reminded Charlotte that she had been at the zoo's "Night Eyes" last Saturday, and she Trunk or Treated at church last night. But that's cold comfort when you're inside the house watching kids in costumes outside waving buckets of candy and dancing from doorbell to doorbell. She dove face first into a couch pillow and wailed for five minutes.

By 7:45 the streets were dark and so was Char's bedroom. It was a tough night, but little kids are surprisingly resilient. Despite her bitter disappointment, Charlotte hasn't lost her faith in the holiday. As I pulled the bed covers to her chin, Charlotte whispered, "Next year I want to be a Bat Girl."

Four-year-olds are awesome.

Bad Dog (Movie)!

When I brought this movie home I was pretty sure I had a winner. Char enjoyed Space Buddies; she howled when Budderball farted in his space suit, and I had no reason to think Spooky Buddies would be any different.

As a teacher, I have learned that you never play any video (DVD, YouTube clip, or video streaming) for a class without previewing the entire thing first. But I thought I could just pop Spooky Buddies in and sit back. I mean, c'mon, look at these puppies. How could this go wrong? The movie is rated G for crying out loud.

Well, if I had previewed even seven minutes of this film I would have known better.

In those first seven minutes Char and I watched Warwick the Warlock summon the Halloween Hound, a demon dog with fiery eyes. The Halloween Hound appeared on the "other side" of a mirror, and the only way he can enter our world is by eating the souls of five puppies. So, Warwick the Warlock brought him puppies.

Yes, you read that right. Charlotte watched in horror as the first puppy was pushed in front of the Halloween Hound's mirror. After the Halloween Hound had consumed the puppy's soul, the puppy's body turned into stone. And no, this isn't a Halloween trick. The puppies were killed, their souls were eaten, and their bodies were turned into stone.

The final puppy to be sacrificed, Pip, did escape, but he was quickly caught by Warwick and killed in front of Joseph, the young boy who owned Pip. With tears running his face, Joseph hugged his stone dog and cried to his dad, "Look what they did to Pip!" In a later scene, you can see that the townspeople have recycled the puppy bodies into headstones in the cemetery.

The only bright spot in the movie's exposition is that the Halloween Hound doesn't eat Pip's puppy soul. Pip becomes a ghost instead, and he's left to haunt an empty house for the next 75 years.

If I had written this plot and explained it to my wife, I'm pretty sure her reaction would have been to punch me in the face.

Charlotte, as you can imagine, did not like Spooky Buddies. I was scrambling to find the remote as soon as the puppies started dying, and we quickly turned the TV off. As I put the DVD case on a shelf, a high shelf, I assured Char that by the end of the movie all the animals would be fine, and all the kids who lost their pets would get them back. But I wasn't so sure. I didn't trust the movie.

And for a little while Char didn't trust her dad. When I'd bring a new movie home from the library, Char would eye it suspiciously and ask, "Dad, this isn't like Spooky Buddies is it?"

"No, no, this one's good."

Cheap, Halloween Entertainment

Here's the Halloween display that's outside of our house.

It's modest, but fun. I found the Disney characters at a thrift store, and the lights are from Target.

To add a little originality to our celebration, I went shopping at Goodwill. I already owned the old PC speakers, but can you find a pair for less than five bucks at most thrift stores. The portable JVC CD player was two dollars.

I picked up this Disney CD for 79 cents.

Last year I hid the speakers and the CD player behind the decorations and hit "repeat". It was a cheap and safe way to bump our display up a notch. You could hear the music as you approached our house, but it wasn't going to disturb the neighbors. I put a copy of the Disney CD in the player, so if a naughty kid trashed my stereo setup, I'd be mad, but I'd out less money than what the big bag of Mars candy costs.

This year I thought I'd personalize the recording with Audacity. According to their website, "Audacity® is free, open source, cross-platform software for recording and editing sounds." I have used it for years to help me convert records, 8-tracks, and cassettes into mp3s. Since I'd already ripped the Disney CD into separate tracks last year, I thought it would be fun to make some vocal recordings to slip into the mix on a new CD. Here is a terribly uninformative video of how I did this.

This year trick-or-treaters will be "treated" with my bad imitations of the Crypt Keeper and Peter Lorre.

But if you don't want to go to all the trouble of making your own disc, the Dollar Store is full of sound effect CDs.

You've Got to be Kitten Me

My grandmother lives in an apartment in Moravia, Iowa. About 650 people live in Moravia, and there's not much there in terms of excitement. At least that was what I thought.

What's hiding under Grandma's couch?

Well, hello gorgeous!

Whoa! Grandma's place just got a whole lot more exciting for Charlotte!

No, my Grandma didn't get a kitten. My Aunt Renea adopted this kitten earlier in the week, and she brought the cat over to entertain Char. And boy did that work.

You can't hear it, but the kitten was purring at this moment. Seriously.

My aunt let Charlotte name the kitten, and Char immediately chose "Susie". Even though that's my aunt's middle name (Charlotte didn't know that), Renea vowed to use Susie as the cat's name. Here's Char and Susie playing with Grandma's walker.

About that walker, Grandma Jerry is 89 years old, and on Friday night she spotted a mouse sitting on her carpet. Did she scream or call for help? Nope. She tried to run the mouse over with her walker's wheels, and she was able to stun it. How? I have no idea. Grandma's speed isn't one mile per hour. Then she took a hammer to the mouse to finish the job. Seriously Grandma? A hammer? Yep. She whacked it, scooped it into a dustpan, and then threw the rodent's body into the front yard.

If you're wondering who does that kind of thing, the answer is a wife of a farmer does that kind of thing. It doesn't matter how old she is. If she's got a problem, she deals with it.

Aunt Renea also brought gifts and candles for a belated birthday celebration. Char turned four on August 18 - that's her mom's birthday, too - so Char got four candles in her birthday doughnut. Susie the kitten got two candles in hers. I still don't know why the cat got a birthday doughnut.

Although Char was warned that she couldn't take the kitten home, I think she thought she might get to keep her if the cat was in all of our family pictures.

This isn't a great picture, but look at the cat.

Let's zoom in.

"Must Escape! Now!"

In the end Char cried to keep the cat, I pried to release the cat, and the cat sighed to be safe back under the couch. It was a bit messy, and there was a lot of sobbing when I pulled back onto the four-lane. But then Charlotte fell asleep, and when she awoke an hour later she hardly mentioned Susie the kitten.

Three hours of joyful play in exchange for 15 minutes of tears? That's a bargain.