A few days ago, I had a meeting with some folks I’m looking to possibly do some business with. I was given an address and directions, and I looked them up on mapquest as backup. Unfortunately, the address I wrote in my note had a couple numbers transposed—my fault in writing or their fault in speaking, I don’t know. I couldn’t find their office until I was about five minutes late for the meeting. That’s annoying and embarrassing.

First thing this morning, I had an important meeting with the same folks as a couple days ago and some new folks. I had tried to look the address up on mapquest, but mapquest was having problems displaying the map images. So I had to leave without a map. The directions I was given were just slightly off, and I couldn’t find the street I was supposed to turn onto. A couple phone calls got me some landmark information, and I eventually got going in the correct direction. I was almost 20 minutes late for the meeting.

I hate being late for anything. I always try to be on time if for no other reason than it is just polite and respectable. It drives me crazy when someone else is late for an appointment with me. Even when I’ve got two kids to drag along, by myself, I manage to be on time for most appointments. I don’t like being late, for any reason.

I was busy last evening, so I wasn’t able to write today’s blog post. I also knew I’d be tied up this morning and so wouldn’t be able to write it until noon or later. (I try to post my daily stuff by 8:00 a.m. each day. But I don’t get paid for this blog, so it has to take a second place behind things I do get paid for.) When I post late I get an email from my mother “reminding” me. Sorry, mom.

I hope I’m over my late fever of this week. It just bugs me to be late, for anything and anyone. Apologies all around.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

We went through our laundry room to clean it up and throw stuff out. There was a pile of shoes and boots in the room that has annoyed me for a long time. I had a pair of yard-work sneakers in the room, but I made sure to keep them behind the door—out of the way and out of sight.

Back when I was in college, I had one pair of sneakers, one pair of dress shoes, and . . . that’s it. Maybe I had an old pair of sneakers in my closet I just hadn’t thrown out yet. Now, I’m surprised by the number of shoes I have.

– One pair of new sneakers.
– One pair of old sneakers for dirty/sweaty wear.
– One pair of really old sneakers for really rough dirty work. (Probably should just throws these out now.)
– One pair of brown dress shoes.
– One pair of black dress shoes.
– One pair of sandals only for wearing to pool or beach. (I hate sandals.)
– One pair of winter boots that I don’t know where they came from, and I’ve never worn.

I’ve got seven pairs of shoes!? That’s absurd. It makes me feel like my life has spun out of control. My world is all out of order. More than four pairs of shoes is just unreasonable, cluttery, and sloppy

I don’t know how many shoes my wife has. I once tried to count them . . . I won’t try again—that way lies madness.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

I don’t want my August 31 post to get added to the “evidence” that people use to support an urban myth. Urban myths are fun and all, but I really don’t like misinformation spoken as fact.

Ironically, a few days before I made that post about the child with a peanut allergy in my son’s preschool class, I was contemplating a post about the peanut ban in schools myth. With the beginning of a new school year, people tend to talk about school—things they remember, things that are always the same, and things that have changed. Something I’ve heard as fact for a few years now, is that schools have banned peanuts to protect those students with peanut allergies.

Until this one class with my youngest son, I’ve never actually heard of a real instance of any kind of peanut allergy. I’ve heard the urban stories, but ironically, these stories are told by people with no kids or with no kids in school. A week or so ago, I heard this concept mentioned twice in a few days. One person, with no children, brought up the “fact” of how schools have changed and now peanuts are banned in many schools. The other person, with a child about to enter kindergarten at the same school my son is in first grade, asked whether there was a problem with sending peanuts to school in a child’s lunch.

I told both people that my son takes a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to school every day (literally), and has for all five years he’s been in a school environment. I’ve never seen a rule against peanuts in any school information I’ve read. So, as far as I can tell, the whole peanut ban story is a myth.

My first son has been in some form of school for five years. From pre-school for just two days a week, to first grade five days a week, he’s been in two different schools. I’ve seen the rules for other schools and districts. I’ve also talked with parents with kids in other schools and districts.

Now, I could do some research on the subject, and tell you exactly what the percentage of children with this allergy is. I could also research many school districts and see if there actually are any schools that ban peanuts. But this is a blog, not an article—I’m doing this writing as a hobby, not as my job. So I’m just telling you what I’ve seen with my older child in school.

What I feared may happen with my anecdote about a peanut ban in a single small class in a private preschool, is that people will take the story and retell it as evidence that the peanut ban story in all or many schools is truth. I hope this post sets the record straight: one or two anecdotes, even truthful ones, does not support a broad concept. As a parent with a child in a “peanut banned” class, I do not believe peanuts are banned in many schools. (Note: this peanut ban is only for one class, not for the whole school.)

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

We went to the zoo yesterday. We left early, got there just an hour after opening, and spent about 3 hours visiting Africa and 1 hour seeing North American critters. The zoo just isn’t very. . . well, seeing the animals on TV is much more exciting, to me.

At the zoo, the animals just stand around, or lay around, or sometimes don’t even show up. That’s kind of disappointing, especially after you’ve worked your way to the front of the viewing area past all the other visitors.

My boys love seeing the animals, and get very excited. “Daddy! Look at the turtle!” And that makes me happy. For them.

For myself, I’m hot, tired, and rather unimpressed. I’d love to see the animals doing their animal-action things — the elephants and rhinos charging, the giraffes eating leaves off the tall trees, the grizzly bears growling. But at the zoo, you only see all the stuff that ends up on the cutting room floor of Animal Planet. It’s the boring 23 hours, 59 minutes of the animals’ lives.

Heck. One of my favorite animals, the red wolf, we couldn’t even see in its habitat. It was sleeping out of sight. Sigh. I want to see a pack of wolves stalking a deer or something.

Lazy bugger animals. Entertain me! I’d rather see the animals in a circus. “Natural habitat,” be darned.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com