To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,To the last syllable of recorded time;And all our yesterdays have lighted foolsThe way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor playerThat struts and frets his hour upon the stageAnd then is heard no more. It is a taleTold by an idiot, full of sound and furySignifying nothing.” — William Shakespeare, Macbeth (Act 5, Scene 5, lines 17-28)

I’ve been taking care of small children for over three decades, and have been a father to four children over the past 19 years.  Today, BooBoo taught me something new:

When a small child Spiderman climbs up the back of your easy chair, does a leg-over maneuver that places him in your lap, grabs your ears, and head butts you hard enough that you see stars, that is a sign he wants you put the laptop down and pay attention to him.

Falling asleep while listening to the Beatles playlist on your laptop and reading the Cold Steel Special Projects catalog during a rainstorm can cause some truly strange dreams.  Who knew John Lennon was actually the Kurgin?  “All we are saying is ‘There can be only one’!”

Addendum:  What the !#$!!@#?   They’re making a remake?   Is there no part of my childhood that Hollywood will not flay and dance in around in its skin?

I’ve been in a good mood since I started shooting on Saturday.  I am beginning to believe that a combination of RemOil and GSR is an anti-depressant.

When you are proofreading a response to a letter to the editor of your local fishwrap, if the first line is “Dear Whining Twit”, then it’s probably better to just delete the letter and move on with your day.