A collaborative poem and song started by Nem and finished by me this evening:
My reindeer is civilized
Your reindeer is kinda weird
My reindeer likes Santa Claus
Your reindeer likes Bob
My Reindeer, Your Reindeer
//Category: Alex
//No problem here
//I sing to the (pretty) melody of “Two Little Dolls” from Sesame Street as I work at the computer; and Nem interrupts.
Me: Shut, shut, shut thy little face / shut, shut, shut thy little face–
Nem: Dad?
Me: Yes.
Nem: Do you have a problem?
Me: A problem?
Nem: A problem.
Me: A problem?
Nem: A problem.
Me: What kind of problem?
Nem: A problem.
Me: What specific kind of problem?
Nem: A bad problem.
Christmas e-card/video unabridged too lengthy rehearsal thing, with Nem and myself
//Enjoy the following linked to video, in which I sang something I may have invented and/or imitated after hearing a wonderful rendition of Amazing Grace (not to the usual tune) which I heard on the radio.* The melody is a portmanteau of two or three melodies.
I have not bothered editing out the parts and time you may not have time for. In fact, I added some. Essential captions follow this link to the video file:
–and embedded video player which may not show up in syndication–the captioned verses are what I sing in the video. Words of final verse by yours truly.
But then people will think you’re taller than you are. It’s okay, I’ll just tell them you’re standing on a stool.
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saves a wanton mess like me
I once was lost, and still am lost
Am blind and yet I seeThrough many dangers, snares and toils
I have already come
‘Twas grace that brought me safe thus far
And grace will lead me home‘Twas grace that taught my heart to fear
And grace my fears relieved
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believedI mixed up some verses. But that’s okay.
‘Twas grace that taught my heart to grieve
And grace my heart to sing
For him whose death is my rebirth
The ever-living spring.
*what I heard on the radio was performed by a BYU choir on December 16th 2016 at 8:30 PM; it was magnificent and moving. I’m going to look it up and get a recording of it–and thereby also learn whether I made this song up or not. If I made this up, it validates my theory that composing can consist of remembering songs incorrectly.
ROGUE ONE: A STAR WARS STORY
//SPOILERS AHEAD, unless the emotional reaction of a fan to a film isn’t a spoiler for you. Actual plot spoilers are clearly and safely partitioned thus.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Me: That was the first Star Wars film that made me cry.
Mago: No, you cried when [spoiler]
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Han Solo died[/spoiler].
Worms2 video game
//I played an artillery game variant, Worms2, when I was a kid, with my family, a lot. This is a very fun and entertaining game. I kept an .iso (disc image file) of it lo these long ages, and a few days ago I installed it from that image and played it with “Mago” (11yo at this writing). We could not get the game to run without putting a music CD in the drive; I remembered the game was coded to only run if its disc was in the CD-ROM (and for some reason it wasn’t recognizing the mounted image). I also remembered we used to put in any random music CD in the CD-ROM drive, and it would function okay that way, only playing whatever music happened to be on the CD instead of the music tracks burned on the original game disc. We would play to the “BRAVEHEART” score or whatever else.
The only music CD we had handy at this game revival now was chamber orchestral arrangements of sacred hymns. So we fired virtual bazookas and super banana bombs at each other to these.
New Stupid Joke Form: Because We Don’t Have One
//Mago: Where’s my blue coat?
Me: It’s not in the knife display case, because we don’t have one. But if we did, I’d totally put it in the knife display case. After I stabbed it, over and over and over again.
Mago: Dad, I’m in a hurry, and you’re being silly!
Me: Hm, it’s not here–wait, is this it?
Mago: Yes.
Me: It’s not in the volcano, because we don’t have a volcano. But if we did, I’d totally throw it in the volcano. It’s not in my pants, because I don’t have any pants. But if I did . . . I’d totally put it in my pants.
2016-03-16 5:38:09 PM onward Pidgin instant messenger log (mostly Nem and Dada)
//
Transcript for anyone who doesn’t receive the image:
—
(5:38:09 PM) Nem: hi!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(5:20:17 PM) Nem: cai u can do it nou
(5:20:35 PM) Alex: ok
(5:21:31 PM) Alex: OH HAI!
(12:04:43 AM) Alex: hey hiya hi guys
(12:14:42 AM) Tia: done
(12:14:54 AM) Alex: good jorb!
(12:15:22 AM) Alex: I’m going to bed soonish.
(2:40:13 PM) Alex: Hi one sec k?
(2:40:54 PM) Alex: u need musix k thx bai
(2:41:21 PM) Nem: daddy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(2:41:36 PM) Alex: bunniesAAAAAAAAIIIII!
(2:47:25 PM) Nem: bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb why it not tiping bunnies?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!
(2:48:06 PM) Alex: It’s my random bunny interjector program. Every time you type a b, it rolls a pretend dice, and if it rolls a six, it replaces the b with bunnies. Which, coincidentally, it did just now.
(2:49:23 PM) Nem: but it not typing bunnies!
(2:49:39 PM) Alex: for you, you mean? No, that program isn’t installed on that computer. Only mine.
(2:50:16 PM) Nem: WHY!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!??!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? :’-(
(2:50:26 PM) Alex: lol i can install it. one moment.
(2:54:43 PM) Alex: Done. installed.
(2:55:20 PM) Nem: YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😀 😀 😀 BBBBBBBBBBBBBunniesBBBBBBBBunniesBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBunniesBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBunniesBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBunniesBBunniesBBBBBBBBB
(2:55:24 PM) Alex: 🙂
(2:58:15 PM) Nem: 😀 😀 😀 😀 😀 bunnies bunnies bunnies bunnies bunnies!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😀 😀 😀 😀 😀 😀
(2:58:22 PM) Alex: Ha ha! 🙂
Mago’s idea: frighten people with a pop-up cardboard osterich in a doorway and sound effects. Me: “He’s into fitness. ‘Osterrreeetch..'”
//Mago’s idea: frighten people with a pop-up cardboard osterich in a doorway and sound effects. Me: “He’s into fitness. ‘Osterrreeetch..'”
— Alex and Tia Hall (@ussins) February 29, 2016
Mago: “I studied robots for four years in school! Now I can speak robot! BEEP BOOP BEEP!” Me: “See? It’s a tonal language. Listen!”
//Mago: “I studied robots for four years in school! Now I can speak robot! BEEP BOOP BEEP!” Me: “See? It’s a tonal language. Listen!”
— Alex and Tia Hall (@ussins) February 29, 2016
Nem’s Heart and Soul
//“I love you baby,” I whispered to Nem, my cheek next to hers, while she was sound asleep at midnight. She stirred in a struggle to emerge from sleep, and didn’t manage to wake up, but said in her sleep despite sleep retaking her: “I . . . love you . . . too . . .”
That’s what she’ll fight through a barrier to say. This is that sweetest fruit of the tree of life.
Only a smidge
//*knock knock.*
Nem: Who is it?
Me: Dada.
What?
Mago says he’s sorry, and if I hurt your feelings, I’m sorry too, and I want to give you a hug.
Long pause.
Nem: Hug my toes.
Me: What?
Nem: I’m putting them under the door.
Me, (unable to restrain laughter) : What?!
Nem: I’m trying to.
Me: I can’t see or reach them at all.
Still not there . . . my fingers, then. I’ll put them under the door.
Three of her fingers appear palm-up under the door. I reach down and press my fingers on them, laughing.
Mago and the Spirit of God
//I might have written this down, but I don’t think I did.
When he was possibly four years old, I prayed with Mago at bed time. I wish I clearly remembered the context and statements, but it was something to this effect: I asked him what he felt, and he explained that he felt Jesus’ love.
The following Sunday, he wanted to make a statement in front of the congregation at church. I took him up to the pulpit and held him to the microphone. He mildly stated:
“I felt Jesuses’ love . . .”
That was that.
Setup
//Nem: What’s something that you’re obsessed with?
Me: Obsessed? Uh . . . I dunno. The BATTLESTAR GALACTICA tv show, maybe. When I watch one episode, I can watch 30 in a row without eating or drinking or sleeping.
Nem: Okay, what about art?
Me: Mmm . . . I guess so.
Nem: Okay, so say: “I love art!”
Me: “I love art!”
Nem: (feigned mean snarl) Then why don’t you marry it?!
She laughed and laughed as if it were hilarious.
What’s hilarious is that she thinks it’s hilarious, and laboriously set it up.