Monthly Archives: February 2008

Soul Burger

Last Tuesday we went to Soul Burger on our greater Huntsville restaurant tour. I wish their website did the place justice; sadly, it does not.

This place is heavy on personality. Most notably the owner, Kathy, is full of personality and she absolutely lights up the whole place. She’s at the register when you come in and she greets you with great big “Hello, Sweetiepie!” Don’t pretend you’ve been there before when you haven’t. She’ll catch you and start ringing her bell and yelling, “We’ve got virgins here! Ya’ll give these folks some love!” Sounds awful, right? It’s not–everyone claps and shouts their own greetings and pretty soon you feel like Norm on Cheers. The best part was while we were eating our lunch some more new people came in and Kathy gave them the treatment and Stephen and I were clapping along like we’d been there a hundred times before.

Stephen and I both ordered Soul Burgers. I got fries and he got onion rings. Kathy said they’d just started serving the onion rings so we should give them a try. The burger was great. It was a very nice burger for a great price. Easily worth driving over for on a regular basis. The onion rings are a different story. I’m pretty sure that the next time I go, I’m just going to order the onion rings and have a bite of someone else’s burger. Sonic may dip their onion rings in milkshake batter before they fry them, but Kathy dips hers in ambrosia first. In fact, I want to go get some right now. Better yet, I want to make Stephen go get me some right now.

Stephen asked what the “Big Daddy” was on the menu. Kathy said it was a pound of ground beef. While we were waiting on our food I noticed the Triple Big Daddy on the menu. Yeah, three pounds of ground beef for $10. If you order that when you go, please for all that is good and holy take a picture for me.

I give Soul Burger a big ol’ thumbs up. Next time you are in town, we’ll take you over to Soul Burger to meet Kathy and get some onion rings.

Hey, the Wii Has Adventure Games!

At least, it has adventure game. Zack and Wiki is, at its heart, a point-and-click adventure game. It’s fun seeing a game on a new console make all the same old adventure game mistakes.

They do a nice job of keeping things manageable by only letting you carry one thing at a time, which greatly simplifies the puzzles you can solve, and a number of the puzzles are satisfyingly twisty. They lean heavily on mechanical whatsits that you have to frob in just the right way, but they also are doing a good job of teaching you how to use Wiki’s special bell-ringing powers to solve puzzles. Each level that we’ve gone through has gotten just a little more complex. It’s a learning curve that is actually curved.

It’s a shame they use so many 1980s-era unfun elements. There’s a lot of unexpected, instant death, which they keep track of so you feel like a loser. Worse, when you die, you go back to the beginning of the level, unless you’ve bought a platinum ticket, which then gets used up. Money is limited, as you might expect, so you can get to where you have to play a level over and over and over again, dying with every mis-step. (I’m looking at you, “Keeper of the Ice”.) It discourages exploration and experimentation, which is the exact opposite of what you want to do in an adventure game.

Don’t get me wrong — it’s still fun. I’m just sad that no one on the design team seems to have paid close enough attention to the last thirty years of adventure games.

Big Christmas Photo Post

Here it is! All the Granade family Christmas photos you can handle. Seriously, if you aren’t a grandparent or LanaBob! you won’t hurt my feelings if you skip 75% of these. LanaBob! will flip through every one just to read the captions I so laboriously wrote for each one. Click on the photos to reach each group.

Christmas at our house
Low key present unwrapping before the trek to Arkansas.
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Christmas with Misty’s Mom’s Family
When you have this many second cousins and great-grands in one room you take lots and lots of pictures.
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Christmas with the Granades
How big is the boom when you have this many Granades in one room?
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Christmas with Misty’s Dad’s Family (or Liza in the Tent)
I swear we were there for several days but all of the photos are of Liza in her tent.
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Movie Montages

Ladies and gentlemen, Transformers in sixty seconds.

Okay, they cheated a bit and added in bits from Surf’s Up and Disturbia. I often enjoy montages like this. I used to point people to the Ultimate Buster Compilation, a video on YouTube that had every instance of Buster Bluth saying, “Hey, Brother,” in the series Arrested Development, but Fox squashed that right quick.

The montages don’t always work, though. Take a look at this one from the Saturday morning cartoon version of The Legend of Zelda.

The key to these montages is speed. You need to keep it snappy. A line like, “Well, excuuuuuuuuuse me, princess” is way too long. Worse, the guy who compiled it didn’t trim the clips enough, nor did he really have an end. I don’t know that it’s salvageable given the source material, but you might be able to get some laughs by following up five or six instances of Link saying the phrase with an extended montage of the phrase. Build it from a bunch of different clips like a note made of cut-out letters from newspapers, and extend the already-drawn-out vowel in “excuse”. You’d have, “Well [cut] ex[cut]cuuuu[cut]uuuuu[cut]uuuuu[cut]uuuuu[cut]uuuu[cut]uuuu…..[cut]uuuse me[cut]princess!”

At least this video shows us that Link was an ass.

To Eli On His Fourth Birthday

This year, for your birthday, we got smart: we outsourced your party to JumpZone! JumpZone! is a magical warehouse filled will bunches of inflatable two-story slides and bouncy obstacle courses. It’s so much fun, I’d like to have my birthday party, but it’s only for kids. You and thirteen of your friends ran around like crazed yappy poodles, and when it came time for cake and pizza you were all tired out, and best of all, we didn’t have to clean up afterwards. If we’d had fourteen four-year-olds in our house, there’d have been nothing left but a hole in the ground and maybe a single toilet. We’d stand outside the wreckage looking dazed, telling TV reporters that it “sounded like a freight train.”

The parties take place upstairs in the warehouse, so before the feeding frenzy begins, all kids have to gather at the bottom of the stairs and dunk their hands in sanitizer. It turns out that herding a large group of four-year-olds is like directing Anonymous, only with fewer rickrolls, so there was a lot of milling about. And in the confusion, you and Mackenzie the red-haired girl snuck a kiss.

Then Mackenzie turned around and kissed another boy on her other side. Welcome to dating!

This last year, your talking has turned into full-blown storytelling. It’s all stream-of-consciousness stuff that pours out of you, incorporating whatever you happen to see. It’s like having the writer’s room for Lost on speakerphone. “This is nail, he walks around when he’s wound up and sometimes he jumps. When he dies he gets tired and then he’s sad. One day he was moving on the carpet, and then he had to avoid Liza by going over her and to the wall. When he sees the pictures on the wall, he bounces off of them and flies through the galaxy looking for Power Stars.”

As you might have guessed by the Power Stars bit in that story, you’re also obsessed about videogames. It all started innocently enough, with you playing Tasty Planet. From there we moved to Katamari Damacy (both of them) and Lego Star Wars. Now all of your stories involve Mario, Darth Vader, General Grievous, and a big ball of stuff.

You’ve begun playing by yourself some, and though it’s never for more than ten to fifteen minutes at a time, it’s a nice break for your harried parents. We get to tend to Liza or do chores around the house. Sometimes we sit and stare, doing nothing, just for the novelty.

I know, I know, in a few years you won’t want to play with me at all, and I should savor the moments while I can. Parenting is lumpy like crunchy peanut butter. What would be wonderful spread out over fifteen or twenty years is instead compressed into a few months or years. If we seem cross with you, please be kind. We’ll go eat some chocolate and get some sleep and be better tomorrow.

You’ve become obsessed with building things. Legos are old hat by now — you’re on to the hardcore stuff, mainlining Tinkertoys and Lincoln Logs. I say “you”, but what I really mean is “us”, or more accurately “me”. You’ll put something together, like a banger (a single Tinkertoy hub and a long stick that’s useful for banging into things), and then demand that I build a sixty-piece robot that you saw in the teeny instruction booklet, the booklet that takes the words “instruction” and stretches it to cover a single blurry picture with no annotation.

The biggest change in our lives has been Liza’s arrival. You’ve adapted to her marvelously. At first she was a lump of baby and you didn’t care, but now you’re alternatively thrilled with her laughing delightedly at you and annoyed with her chewing your toys. Being a big brother is a tough gig, and she’ll get on your nerves a lot. Try to bear with her. She thinks you’re the coolest thing since mashed sweet potatoes.

One thing I’ve really enjoyed is watching you develop your thinking skills. You do your OCD parents proud when you announce, “I have a plan.” You don’t actually make plans, though, until forced to by us wanting you to do something different. We’ll ask you to clean your room, and you’ll say, “I have a plan. You, dad, and I will play marble tower after dinner while mom takes care of Liza and then we will have bath and after that I’ll clean my room.” It’s one of your set of bargaining and manipulation tools. Another one is, “I was just…”

ME: Ew! Did you just put that stick in your mouth?
YOU: I was just…running it over my lips.

Add to it “maybe we can…”, which you say when you want to give an alternative to going to bed or taking your medicine.

We also made the mistake of joking about you having an Emergency Show one day when you’d watched your full allotment of TV but Liza was sick and needed attention. “Okay,” we told you, “you can have an Emergency Show.” Since then you’ve asked for Emergency Computer Time, Emergency Wii, and Emergency Treat.

You’ve started pegging some of your plans to nebulous future dates that hopefully won’t come. Up to two days before your birthday you were announcing, “When I am four, then I will give up my pacifier.” The day you turned four, you explained, “When I am older, like five or six, then I will give up my pacifier.”

I was most proud of your planning the day you got lost in Babies “R” Us. Mom and I miscommunicated, and you ended up wandering away. Distraught, you went to the front of the store. When an employee asked you what was wrong, you told her, “My name is Eli and my mom is Misty. Can you find her for me?” That’s especially impressive because we had never told you what to do if you got lost. We’re the parenting equivalent of people who can’t remember to water their plants.

I haven’t been as patient with you as I should be. The stress of dealing with two kids has made me snappish and tired. Who knew that two kids are four times the work! Parenting is full of things that seem so important when you’re in the midst of them, but in retrospect were no big deal. It’s as if I keep climbing Mount Everest, only to look back when I’m at the top and discover that I’ve really been trudging across Oklahoma.

When I come home from work, you open the door and run to me, giggling. You talk to me non-stop from then until bedtime. Some days I’m so exhausted that I wish you’d go away and give me some peace.

Do me a favor: never make that wish come true.

Dad and Eli at the beach

Writing Advice “They” Don’t Want You To Read

A few days ago, John Scalzi gave ten pieces of advice about money to writers. He talked about paying off credit card debt, buying good stuff and running it into the ground, and not quitting your day job. A bunch of his writer friends and associates chimed in, praising the article and agreeing with most of the points.

His advice is all well and good, except for one thing: it’s a bunch of lies. Not direct lies, oh, no. That would be too obvious. No, it’s all lies by omission. He’s trying to get you to focus on money instead of what writing is really all about.

Here’s the thing that you, the would-be fiction writer, have to understand about writing and publishing: it’s a big consipracy. It’s a cabal. There are probably robes and secret handshakes and driving around in tiny cars while wearing fezzes. You can tell because every published writer denies it, and if there’s stronger proof than that, I don’t know what it is.

You may be asking, “How can you say this? What are your writing credentials?” The plain truth is: I too am a writer. By that, of course, I mean that I wrote non-fiction columns for a dot-com from 1997 to 2001, when dot-coms would hire anyone to write as long as they were alive, and they were willing to be lenient regarding the being-alive requirement. After that I wrote the occasional freelance article thanks to friends who gave me assignments out of pity. I’ve also co-authored some twenty scientific articles, and everyone knows scientific articles require clear, entertaining prose. And if you don’t think writing scientific articles involves fiction, then have I got a rendezvous and docking system to sell to you!

Right, let’s get to the advice.

1. Writing and publishing is a grand conspiracy.

I know I said this above, but it bears repeating. You think this is a meritocracy? You think publishers are really looking for good writing? Ho ho ho. It is to laugh. How many times have your read a book and realized, “Hey, I can write better than this!” All the time, right? And chances are, your assessment is dead on. That book got published for reasons having nothing at all to do with talent and the value of the work itself. That leads to the next bit of advice:

2. You’d better get an “in”.

To listen to writers talk, getting published is as easy as writing well, telling an interesting story, and showing that work to editors. Hogwash! Editors may go on and on about how rejection is about the work, not about you, but make no mistake: it’s about you. You don’t know the right codewords. You’re not rapping out the secret knock on the door of publishing. These days a lot of writers and editors have blogs. Read them. Leave sycophantic comments telling them how wonderful they are. Over time, it’s just barely possible that they’ll think of you as one of them.

3. Writing and publishing is a zero-sum game.

One American in four reads no books. Of the remaining ones, the typical number of books read is four. Four! You’re fighting for a terribly small slice of an already-teeny pie, perhaps one of those apple pies from McDonald’s. The implications are clear: someone else’s success is your failure. The best thing you can do is work to undermine other writers’ confidence — nip their writing in the bud, as it were. Remember those blogs I mentioned earlier? On them, subtly imply that the writer in question isn’t a very good writer. Encourage non-writing activities like exercise and human contact. Remember: every Charles Schultz that gives up writing is one more slot for the next Bruce Tinsley. And the next Bruce Tinsley, to foreground this metaphor, is you.

4. Don’t stoop to writing just for the paycheck.

John Scalzi says, “To be sure, [holding out for 20 cents a word or more] can often mean doing writing that’s not typically described as “fun” — things like marketing pieces or Web site FAQ text or technical writing. But this sort of writing can pay well, expand your repertoire of work experience and (paradoxically) allow you the wherewithal to take on the sort of stuff that doesn’t pay well but is fun to do or is otherwise interesting to you.” You know why he’s saying that? Because every moment you’re spending on writing things other than your novel or short story is a moment he’s writing his novels and selling them to publishers who will then discard your much later submitted novel. Remember point 3. If you’re not writing what you want to be writing, you’re leaving the door open for others.

In addition, writing is all about your art and your muse. If you’re not following your muse, you’re doing hackwork that will turn your soul as transparent as a piece of wax paper wrapped around a lump of fried hamburger.

5. Suffering will make your writing truer.

Happy, well-adjusted people aren’t driven to write novels. Happy, well-adjusted people live happy, well-adjusted lives, far from the pale glow of LCD screens. If you’re going to be a writer, you need to have the inner life of one. Art arises from misery.

6. Poor writers are good writers.

That sounds paradoxical until you realize that I’m talking about “poor” as in financially poor, not “poor” as in “me no write well”. Getting money requires work, and a lot of that work doesn’t have anything to do with the Art you’re trying to create. Avoid making money and you’ll be a lot more miserable, and thus more likely to produce good Art.

7. Don’t have a significant other.

Husbands, wives, boyfriends, girlfriends — all of them require you to spend a lot of time being with them and doing things for them. That’s time you could be spending writing. Even worse, if you’re someone who tends to be happier when you’re in a relationship, you’re taking a double hit: first to your writing time, and second to your unhappiness quotient.

8. Don’t have kids.

Everything I said above about significant others goes double for kids. All they are is a giant time and money sink.

9. In fact, avoid human contact at all.

When you’re writing fiction, you’re not writing people, you’re writing stories. Thanks to the internet and TV and books — the latter of which, thanks to Amazon.com, don’t even require that you interact with a person to obtain — you can learn everything you need to know about the human condition without interacting with actual humans.

You probably should have a blog, since you have a lot of opinions that others should share with you, but you shouldn’t enable comments. Comments are just another way of interacting with people.

10. Don’t show your work to others.

Other people fall into two categories: non-writers, who are thus no threat to you; and writers, who will steal your publishing deal and devour your soul. Non-writers have nothing useful to tell you about your work. If they did, they’d be writers. Writers are part of the same zero-sum game as you, so are going to try to destroy your Art if you show it to them. Also, your ideas are the most amazing thing you’ve got going, and other writers will want to steal them from you.

Carefully guard your writing, and only hand it out to publishers you feel you can trust. Early feedback will doom your writing.

It’s brave of me to tell you these things “they” don’t want you to know about writing. I hope you find it “useful”.

Lolcat eCards for Valentine’s Day

I can now reveal the secret project I’ve been working on: Lolcards. That’s right, it’s all the saccharine of Valentine’s Day cards combined with the stupid of lolcats. Nothing says “love” like an aloof animal that views you merely as a method of conveying food to its bowl, unless it’s an aloof animal combined with poorly-spelled captions.

We’ve got cute cards!

Smoochie Bandit

We’ve got sexxxy cards!

Parents Gone All Day

And if you’re a cynical type like me, we’ve got cards for you as well.

Valentine’s Day is for Losers

G’wan. You know you want to inflict them on other people. Send someone a lolcard. And since they’re all Creative Commons licensed, you can print them, put them on your own website, or most anything else. Just be kind and mention where you got them.

Lolcards. Spread the meme.

[tags]lolcats, Valentine’s Day, lolcards, ecards, free, smoochie bandit[/tags]

A Few Notes of Interest from the Weekend

  • Eli still has an ear infection so we will be retuning to the doctor sometime today for more antibiotics.
  • Liza has the snottiest nose in the western hemisphere. I am not kidding about this. I’m actually a bit shocked that one 18 lb. baby can produce this much fluid.
  • Stephen has a secret project brewing which he will hopefully be finished with and announce sometime today. Geof, it’s time to duck and cover.
  • Because of Stephen’s secret project, I did pretty much zilch this weekend and I had a great time doing it. Stephen’s story might be slightly different.
  • Liza’s sleep is still for crap. Which means my sleep is for crap as well. And no I AM NOT CRABBY about it!
  • All of Eli’s stories now involve: Mario, Anakin Skywalker, Darth Vader, star bits, “Mmmmm, chicken!” (I told him about us playing that Douglas Adams adventure game from 10 years ago and he thinks roasted chickens coming out of a vending machine in the wall is funny.) and some form of the question, “Why did Anakin make bad choices and become Darth Vader?”. I’m pretty sure that we’re not going to be able to get him to understand the morality there until he’s about 12 but we still have the conversation on nearly a daily basis.
  • We still haven’t rescued Christmas photos off of Stephen’s old laptop, so still no Christmas photos.
  • Liza has learned how to say, “DaDa!” with a sign that I think is the Dad sign but could just as easily be, “Dada puts me on his head and says, ‘Liza Hat!’ and I love that!” or “I love me some bald Dada head! It’s good for licking!” and “MaMa!” which she doesn’t need the sign for because she just chants it over and over and over and over and over. These are her only spoken words besides “Pop” which she chants whenever Stephen’s dad is around.
  • Speaking of Liza signing, she can now do: more, milk, eat, all done, dad, bath. She recognizes and is trying to make: ball, Eli, water, light. I’ll be working on next with her: play, please, fruit, music, sleep.
  • To answer a question from May: There won’t be any posted photos of Eli’s birthday at JumpZone! because I didn’t want to go to the hassle of getting written permission from all the parents to publish photos of their kids on our site. Regardless, the highlight wasn’t even photographed and I only heard about it yesterday. Apparently, Eli got himself some birthday smoochies from that little red-headed girl, Mackenzie.
  • Liza has also learned to stand on her own. She usually has to have a toy firmly grasped in both hands to accomplish this but she can do it. She still doesn’t know what those meaty things are on the ends of her legs, so steps are still a good ways off.
  • Update: Oh, and I totally forgot: Peggle is the biggest time suck on the face of the planet.