Our 6 year old requested a Playmobil castle for Christmas. He’s really into the Playmobil and Lego knights and castles, right now. He has a few pieces, already, and he can play with them for a couple hours at a time.

Anyway, my wife started looking for it. She found it in a Target paper, on sale for 25% off, and called the store nearest us. They didn’t have it. She called another, and they didn’t have it. She ended up calling all the Target stores in the county, and found only one store had just one in stock. They agreed to hold it for us.

That night, her mother came over to sit with the sleeping kids while we went out to get Christmas stuff. We drove about 45 minutes to the store in another town. In the store, we decided to first go around and pick up other things on our list and then stop by the Customer Service desk to get the castle when we were ready to check out. We spent an hour in the store, collecting toys and stuff, and then pushed our cart up to the front desk.

The front desk didn’t have the item on hold for us. The clerk called the Toy department to see if they had it back in their warehouse. We were getting a little concerned, especially when the clerk mentioned she had looked for that very toy, herself, and it was sold out. As we talked to the clerk, awaiting information from the Toy department, she mentioned the other store in the town. The other store?!

We asked her to call the other store. I also asked when the stores closed: 10:00. I looked at my watch: 9:35. While the clerk was on the phone, my wife pushed our cart off to the checkout line to pay so we could run out if we were at the wrong store. Sure enough, the other store had the toy on hold for us.

We casually rushed out of the store and loaded our purchases into the van. Then we headed out for the other store, which we only had a general idea of its location.

We found the store. My wife pulled up to the curb and I went in. It was 9:55, and the workers were in closing mode; the Customer Service desk was vacant. I found a manager-type and he was friendly and helpful. They had the castle, I paid for it, and left the store with two minutes to spare. Yes!

We rock! We’re the best and smartest parents in the world. We got the apparently hot item over a month in advance.

Two days later, my wife was in the nearby Target, checking out the toys for other little things. Guess what she found in stock. Yep. Oh well, it was a fun little adventure, and we have the item.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

A few days ago, my friends mentioned going to see a movie together. Noon or one o’clock, Sunday, was the general time agreed upon. Come 11:00 Sunday, I hadn’t heard from anyone about a definite time or theater.

I called the friend who ostensibly was to be the organizer, and asked if we were all still going to the movie. He said he usually waited till 11:30 to call the other guys, to give them time to wake up.

Oh, to have that kind of freedom. To stay up all night and sleep half the day. I was awake at 6:00 Sunday morning, and it was a treat to be able to stay in bed till nearly 6:30.

But even without the parenting responsibilities, I just can’t imagine sleeping to 11:30. I remember doing that as a teenager, and even into my college years, but past 30 years old, I don’t think I could do it, physically. I think my body would start to atrophy by 10:00.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

I had seen a demonstration of the Mentos-Diet Coke geyser in Internet videos, and I thought it would be a fun thing to do with my boys. So, during out latest trip to Target, I picked up a couple two-liter Diet Cokes and a package of Mentos. Apparently, the experiment is common enough that Mentos has it mentioned on their packages, and a loading tube even comes in the pack.

If you haven’t heard about this thing, here’s what it is:

Open a two-liter bottle of diet soda. Load a tube (like the one that comes in the Mentos package) full of about a dozen Mentos mints. Drop the mints into the cola as one dump, then quickly step back. The cola fizzes up so fast that it all shoots out the top of the bottle in a geyser of soda.

According to the videos, the spray can reach ten to twenty feet high. When we did it in our back yard, the geyser reached probably eight to ten feet. It’s a fun little trick, though very messy.

When I cleaned up the mess, I noticed the bottle caps had My Coke Rewards codes, so I kept them. Later in the evening, I went to the Coke Web site. To enter the codes and see if you won anything, you have to register an account, giving your name, address, email, telephone, everything. Well, I’m not about to give them all that info just so I can check to see if I’ve won 10 points towards something that costs 10,000 points. We don’t drink Coke products, anyway, so screw giving them a toe-hold on marketing to me.

But the Mentos-Coke geyser thing was cool.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

I had a friend put my phone number in his cell phone and then try to take my picture (with said cell phone). I covered my face and said politely, “I don’t like to have my picture taken.” Suddenly it was like I was some drunk starlet on the red carpet — cameras came out everywhere.

I don’t like to have my picture taken. I just don’t. I’ve never liked it, and I only rarely allow it without complaint. I’m not a wanted fugitive, and I don’t believe it will steal my soul. I just don’t like it. Why is this a problem for so many people to accept?

Some people don’t like broccoli. Some people don’t like heights. Some people don’t like a boot kick to the crotch. And when these people say they don’t like it, does everyone around them start piling broccoli on their plate, or hold them over the balcony railing, or line up to kick them in the junk? Of course not. But say you don’t like your picture taken, and you become target number one for every camera within flash range.

This most recent situation had me fending off three cameras, including one video camera. Two of them actually took my picture (one was the video) despite my repeated request for them not to. And, of course, when I got on the verge of anger, they acted like I was being unreasonable. One of them willingly deleted the picture, but the other only did so after I refused to participate with anything until he did so.

I know most people are fine with having their picture taken. I realize it’s some kind of cultural craze, now, for everyone to get their face on TV or YouTube or the Post Office wall. But I just don’t have this instinctive craving to have my face flashed on every electronic display. I’m actually repulsed by the idea. If this makes me a cultural freak, I’m fine with that. What I’m not fine with, and what annoys the hell of me, is when everyone feels the need to jump all over my wishes and take my image against my will.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com