I’ve had a deal with Cowgrit for several years: if I ever do anything really embarrassing with my hair to try to conceal a bald spot or a receding hairline, she not only can, but she must bring it to my attention.

Fortunately, I don’t have a bald spot, and my hair is not even thinning. I’ve got good genes in that regard. But if I were loosing my hair, I really hope I could come to accept it and live with it without going to ridiculous lengths to try and conceal the situation. I understand hair loss can be a traumatic problem for a man to deal with, but comb overs don’t make it look better. No one is fooled by a comb over.

Not only do comb overs not make a balding man look better, they can often make a balding man look worse — they can make a man look like a complete idiot. Would a man rather look just bald or bald-and-dorky? There are many bald men who look good, but there are few, if any (I can’t think of one) men who look good with a comb over.

The guy in this picture may think he looks fine with his comb over. After all, he can’t see the back of his head in a mirror. His wife or children should let him know what he looks like from behind. This poor guy might not really know how stupid his comb over looks from behind.

Ladies, you may be wanting for us to lie when you ask, “Do these pants make me look fat?” But a man usually wants the truth when he asks, “How does my hair look?” Even if the truth hurts your man’s feelings and ego, it’s just one moment of hurt versus a lifetime of embarrassing snickers from the other people around him.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

At a lunch gathering the other day, I off-handedly outted myself, to some folks I don’t know very well, as a Star Wars and Star Trek geek. I was surprised by the reaction. There were seven of us sitting at the table together, and the subject of “television in other countries” came up. During this conversation, I mentioned my happiness at finding Star Wars on TV in Sweden. In response to the looks of “So?” from everyone, I admitted to being a fan of the movies.

You’d have thought I said, “I like licking carburators.” The wide-eyed stares I got told me I had just been branded a weirdo. I didn’t even really say that much about it — maybe a total of 30 seconds worth of speaking on the subject. But a “fan” of Star Wars and Star Trek, to these people, means full-on fanatic.

They asked me if I dressed up in Star Wars costume. No, I’ve never. They asked if I go to Star Wars conventions. No, I’ve never, (but I’d like to, some time). They asked did I go see the movies on opening night. Yes, I did (for the first prequel in ’99).

Someone commented, “Oh god, I’d never stand in line for 24 hours to see any movie.” I wouldn’t either; I stood in line maybe one hour, with family and friends.

One guy told of a former coworker who dressed up as “one of those guys” every Halloween. When I asked which of “those guys,” his description made me say, “Oh, a Star Fleet officer — that’s Star Trek, not Star Wars.”

The response to that comment was, “Oh man, you should just stop talking. You’re getting deeper with every thing you say.”

I did stop talking on that subject (although I really hadn’t talked much about it). The whole situation stunned me.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

The boys have been asking to get some pet fish for a few weeks now, and we’ve been promising to let them. We eventually checked out tanks and fish, and this past weekend, we got the equipment and fish. We’re starting out with a very small set up, to see how it all works out.

The tank is just 2 gallons, and it sits nicely on the shelf between the den and kitchen. It has an air pump and filter, white rocks on the bottom, and a treasure chest (picked out by Calfgrit7) with gold spilling out. If the boys continue to show interest, and the fish survive, we’ll get something bigger.

A few years ago, when our oldest was only 3 years old, before we even had the youngest, we had a similar set up with two goldfish. Calfgrit-then-3 named the fish Spot and Oranger. We went through two Spots and three Orangers within a few months. The poor things kept dying.

Having researched fish a little better, I now think the fish were just too big for the small tank (or the tank was too small for the fish). This time we got two guppies — much smaller than the goldfish. Both boys picked out a “Fancy Guppy” — Calfgrit7 picked out one with an orange tail fin with black spots, and Calfgrit3 picked out one with a yellow tail fin with black spots. They’re named “Max” and “Calfgrit3 Fish” [no apostrophe s] respectively.

Young kids can pick some interesting names, or lame names, depending on your perspective. I’ll tell you about their stuffed animals’ names in another post.

There was a tiny, tiny little baby guppy with them, unknowingly scooped up with them, but I think I lost him when I poured out some of the water down a sink to put the fish in their new tank. I didn’t realize anyone would miss the near-microscopic baby, but I learned after the incident that Cowgrit and the Calfgrits had been talking about watching the tyke grow up. I explained that it probably would have been eaten anyway, or otherwise just not survived, but that didn’t make anyone happy. Fortunately, I think the baby has been forgotten by now.

So far, the FAGs have survived two days in their new home. I presume the “FAG” written on the bag stands for “Fancy Guppies.” The pet store worker wrote it on the bag for me to take to the check out. (I originally titled this post “A Couple of FAGs” because I thought it funny, but I changed the title after thinking that some folks might not appreciate the humor.)

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

Cowgrit called me on my cell phone to let Calfgrit7 tell me about his exciting find. While at the park, playing with a friend, they found a bunch of caterpillars. He collected several and brought them home. When Cowgrit got back on the phone, I mentioned that I think caterpillars are dangerous for yards, trees, and flowers. I remember a bunch of trees being eaten to ruin by swarms of caterpillars at my grandparents’ farm, way back when I was Calfgrit7’s age. I said it was probably fine that Calfgrit7 had some to play with, just so long as they stay in control — locked in the bug box. (Both our boys have a small container for keeping insects for study.)

When I got home I learned that Calfgrit7 had collected about a dozen caterpillars. Whoa, that’s a lot! He wanted to research the critters on the Internet, so we got on my computer and Googled them. Every site we came to identified caterpillars as pests, and much of the information was directions on how to kill them and stop infestations. And here we already had 12.

So I explained to Calfgrit7 that we needed to take the caterpillars back to the park, their normal home, so they can eat the plants they’re used to and need, and so they won’t eat any of our plants and trees. He said he could keep them under control, and suggested we get the plants they like and bring them home. But he kept bringing one or two into the house to show us (the bug boxes stay outside, always), and one time he found one that secretly hitched a ride on his shirt. I mentioned to Cowgrit that even worse than having all of them loose in the yard would be for one or two to get loose in the house.

So we gently convinced Calfgrit7 to take them back to the park. He released them and said goodbye, “have a good life,” to all of them. But then his friend, who had been at the park with him when they found the caterpillars, mentioned that he was keeping his (only two) until they turned into moths. He even brought a limb with leaves, from the park trees, to school to give Calfgrit7 for his caterpillars.

Calfgrit7 asked if he could go back and get one or two caterpillars to watch them make cocoons and transform into moths. Cowgrit and I discussed it and allowed him to bring two home — one for him, one for Calfgrit3. Not surprisingly, we ended up with three bugs — two for CG7, one for CG3. Well, at least that’s better than a dozen. And he promised to abide by the rules of no caterpillars in the house, and none loose out of the bug box.

Both boys are very excited about their new “pets,” and they check on them outside a couple times a day. They keep leaves and bottle caps filled with water in the boxes for the critters. So far, all is well. I really hope all goes well with this experience. I’ll feel really dumb if one or all get loose and we end up with an infestation next year. But, if no ruinous plague comes of this, then the boys witnessing the natural transformation of a caterpillar into a moth will be a pretty cool thing.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com