I am my daughter's father.

That's me on the right, circa 1978. Allison's shot is from a month or two back.

Take that, mailman!

Good news and (kinda) bad news.

Bad news first. If you haven't heard, my scrappy little VW Golf was rear-ended at high speed the other day, with me inside. I was waiting for a turn arrow on Lakeshore Drive when a guy clipped my rear-right corner and ripped the wheel off the axle.

It's only "kinda bad news" because of three things. 1. I wasn't hurt, other than a little soreness for a few days. 2. Neither Karen nor the baby was in the car. 3. I wanted a new car anyway.

Insurance has promptly totaled the VW and cut me a check for almost exactly what I bought the car for a few years back. (Well, it'll be equal once I get my $1,000 deductible back in a few months.) Now I get to go car shopping. Thinking a larger hatchback or a smaller SUV like Karen's Honda CRV. Let me know if you hear about anything.

The good news is, I've got a new job. A month or so back, my boss and I started getting serious about planning a full-time social media gig for me, and now it's culminated in the creation of our first-ever Social Media Strategist.

I'll still be doing quite a bit of writing, but I'll also be planning ways for the agency and our clients to better use emerging technologies and trends like mobile applications, social networking, micro-blogging and so on. To avoid boring most of you, I'll leave that stuff to my other blog.

New day care, new blog, new big-ass shed.

With my usual apologies for a dearth of updates here, I wanted to fill you guys in on a few things that have been going on around the Griner household:

1. Allison finally got into a great day care. She's now in the new infant room at a local Catholic church, which we were amazingly impressed with when we toured it several months back.

After our previous run-ins with bad day care, it's nice to have a place that's so attentive to her. But we do think it's strange that they've called us twice with concerns about her health: once because she was sleeping too much, and once because she wasn't peeing. I'm waiting for the panicked call where they tell us her poop smells entirely too good.

2. As you might know, I've started a new blog for work. It's dedicated to all things social media (blogs, social networks, messaging, etc.). I don't know if you'll enjoy it as a normal human who's not into marketing or the evolving Web, but I'm trying to write it in a conversational tone anyway. And every Friday I feature a "Cool Tool of the Week" that you might actually find useful.

3. We're almost done with the large garden shed in our back yard. I can't imagine how long it would have taken without the intense help of several friends and, most notably, my wonderful parents. They all even came over and got much of the work done while we were out of town visiting Karen's family. Thanks again to everyone who pitched in; the shed's going to make a big difference in our storage situation.

Here's a shot of the shed as it is now:



You can see a whole gallery of the construction on our Flickr page.

As I said, we're "almost done." Really the only major tasks left are getting rid of the extra construction materials and painting the exterior (once the Alabama summer humidity dies down a bit).

Right now we're thinking the shed will be a pale yellow. But if you want to stump for chartreuse or something, now's your chance.

Remembering the man who created my career.

On the last days of my sophomore year at Missouri, the job situation was bleak. As a freshman, I had defied expectations and landed a fantastic yet grueling internship at the Birmingham Post-Herald. Unfortunately, this left me cocky in my internship hunt for the next summer. I only applied at larger daily newspapers, none of which seemed to be biting. Time was running out.

So I called New Directions for News, a think tank based at the Missouri School of Journalism. The man who answered was Rich Somerville, who invited me to come by "and see if we like each other." Instead of talking about my anemic resume or my qualifications to be a research assistant, we simply chatted about where journalism was headed. I was struck that such a veteran of the industry was treating a long-haired 19-year-old as a peer and truly listening to what I had to say.

It was the first of countless conversations I had with Rich, who hired me on the spot and soon became not only my summer employer but also my professional mentor and close friend. We would work together at four very different places over the next decade, and each time, Rich would be a constant source of inspiration and guidance.

Rich died of a heart attack a week ago at his home in Eureka, Calif. He was only 61.

I've always had a hard time explaining Rich's role in my life, because it surely must have been a rare relationship. In college, I lacked the initiative or obsequiousness to cultivate a professor as a mentor. In fact, I doubt more than one or two professors would even remember me by name. But Rich was always up for getting a cup of coffee and talking about the industry's future, along with more practical issues like my quest for employment.

Senior year, I was managing editor of The Maneater student paper when we decided to depose our longtime faculty adviser. I convinced Rich to step in, and he quickly proved a perfect example of what an adviser for the independent newspaper could be -- hands-off, but motivational and accessible.

Finishing his doctoral work (but, sadly, never his dissertation), Rich moved on after that year. So did I, becoming a reporter at The Journal Gazette in Fort Wayne, Ind. Three years later, as I was considering my next career move, Rich persuaded me to move all the way to Northern California and become city editor at The Union newspaper, where he was editor.

What followed were several rewarding, often-challenging years of working with Rich to grow readership at an established community paper. While innovative and passionate, Rich would be the first to admit he had his weak spots. His emotional connection to the work was known to spark a few outbursts and create friction with some longtime staffers. But those of us who stuck with Rich learned a great deal about where journalism was headed -- and what obstacles might keep the newspaper industry from getting there.

After a few more years, Rich left the paper. He was frustrated with the industry but also hopeful, so he started a newspaper consulting firm called Media Foresight Associates. For a while, Rich was the sole employee and had good success with his first round of clients. In fact, the consulting proved so fruitful, he hired me to join the firm in late 2005. I had moved back to Alabama and was trying to decide on my next career move.

Consulting alongside Rich was enjoyable and rewarding, mainly because his stress level was so much lower than during his years in newspapers. But before I could work with him for very long, I was hired to my current job as a copywriter. (I feared calling Rich to tell him I was going into advertising. His response, one of my favorite Rich moments, was: "At least it's not PR.")

Soon after, Rich was convinced by media mogul Dean Singleton to take the helm of the Times-Standard newspaper in Eureka, Calif. A bit hesitant to give up the relative ease of his consulting gig, Rich was finally won over by his own competitive spirit and love for community journalism. He had simply missed it too much to say no.

We kept up, of course, exchanging e-mails and having occasional phone conversations about his progress. A few weeks ago, we even talked by e-mail about his hopes of hiring a photographer friend of mine. So it was obviously a sudden blow to find out about his death on Monday of last week. It's painful on levels that I think will only be shown over time, as I find myself wishing I could call him to ask for advice or gossip about media infighting.

Working with Rich's brother, I'm excited to say that we've created The Richard Somerville Memorial Scholarship at the Missouri School of Journalism. We've set a daunting goal -- a $25,000 minimum is required to make it an endowed scholarship -- but even that ambitious of a task is less than I owe Rich for his time, his support and his friendship. The world is a poorer place without Rich in it, and although he boosted my confidence and skills to new levels, his death still leaves me with a void that no one else could ever fill.

"Is that a bloodstain on her bib?" "No, it's just feces." "Oh OK...wait what?" (aka, How Allison got pulled from day care)

For months now, I've been tremendously unhappy with our day care. We liked it when we toured back in the pregnancy days, but things were bad by the time we started dropping the girl off.

As of this week, we're done with the place. (There was much debate among my Internet-savvy friends about whether I should name the day care here...for the moment, I favor not doing it in hopes they'll improve. But I will say it's near the intersection of Alford Avenue and Interstate 65.)

Anyway, back to the story:

In recent weeks, Karen kept saying that things were great when she picked the baby up each afternoon. But when I was dropping her off in the mornings, it was like playing a game of "Find the Violation."

A few highlights, so that you don't think I'm being persnickety:

1. At first, despite asking, we got no report cards on when she was eating, napping, pooping, etc. Then, after multiple requests, we started getting incomplete cards. (She ate once today! And never got changed, apparently! Unlikely.) Eventually, after much grousing, they started giving us decent reports.

2. At least three times, I found one teacher in a room with 8 or more babies. Once as many as 10. The state doesn't allow you to have more than 5 per teacher. I once insisted on staying in the room until someone else showed. It wasn't long, but that was an awkward minute or two. One time, they even left Karen BY HERSELF with the babies. Hoo dog. This whole thing was merely laziness and poor organization...there was always plenty of staff to oversee the kids.

3. They keep no record of giving her medicine, like gas drops. Once, they plain forgot to give her Tylenol when she had a fever from vaccinations. That's really bad. They got defensive with Karen, blamed her for not telling them, then eventually admitted that they had just forgotten.

4. One morning, the state inspector was walking up to the door while I was there. What ensued was no less than a full-on freakout. Staff screaming, panicking, running around in terror, making me fill out forms I had already filled out, admitting they didn't know where to keep the forms, etc. But they apparently passed the inspection OK. The place was generally clean. I'll give them that.

There were other small things, like the fact that I've never seen anyone smile in that entire building, but I'll skip to Monday's story.

Karen went home sick, so I went to pick up Allison for the first time ever. It seemed fine; two teachers were watching two babies, Ally was happy, etc.

But then the teacher went to change her diaper one last time, and I noticed that there was a dark red stain on her bib and on her outfit. This was especially freaky because Ally doesn't eat anything but formula yet.

I asked if it was blood, and the teacher said, "No, she had a really big bowel movement today. It was everywhere."

It took a while for my brain to process this. Not blood: good. But wait, that means there was feces next to my kid's chin for a few hours? And that was cool?

To be honest, I didn't know what to do, so I just took her home and told Karen. We both agreed it was preposterous and called the assistant director. (We had never seen the director on site.) The woman got defensive, kept telling me it couldn't have been poop. She also kept calling Allison "he," which didn't go over well with Karen.

Finally, they called back and said that someone had "spilled sauce" on her, and they had forgotten. I'll admit that's better than feces or blood, but why was someone pouring sauce over my baby? Were they wheeling her around in a hot dog cart?

They gave us no apology and no real reason to ever bring the baby back, so we quickly called another nearby day care and snagged a spot for the next day. It's not great...but tremendously better in terms of people skills.

I had a long talk with the director on Tuesday, and it's mainly because of her profuse apologies and promises to "address every concern" that I didn't name them here. She's also supposedly refunding out payment for this week.

This is already a rambling post, but let me finish with a few tips for those who might be looking for a day care someday:

1. Pay more attention to the people than the facility. Both are important, but we made the key error of picking the more-organized place with the crappier staff.

2. Face the fact that affordability has its price. The truly good day cares seemed outside our price range, so we settled for one that was "meh" at best. Since then, we've just focused hard on juggling the budget to meet the reality that we're going to have to shell out big bucks for a place that will actually treat our kid the way we would.

3. Get on a waiting list early. I know everyone says this, and a long waiting list does not a great day care make. But if the place doesn't have any waiting list, there's very likely a reason.

I laugh about a lot of this stuff now, but the truth is that this situation has been a massive, almost crushing source of stress for me. Looking back at this list of warning signs, I keep thinking I should have yanked her earlier. But all I can do now is hope that I learned an important lesson with little more harm than a vaguely blood-looking sauce stain.

Uncertain about your career path? Maybe that's a good thing.

I have a lot to write about on here as soon as I eke out a few minutes. For now, just enjoy this nice little video, which captures something I've been grappling with ever since switching careers.



Sometimes I worry that I don't have a career path in mind, a certain set of promotions I'd like to aim for. I like writing. Hell, I love it. I feel like my current job has been more than fun; I think it's opened my mind to a whole new range of ways I can use writing personally and professionally.

Who'd have thought you'd get that from writing bank fliers and tourism ads?

Anyway, more baby news and other pontificating coming soon.

A word that exists solely to be a word that doesn't exist.

Few updates lately, I know. Work, parenthood and a back-straining stint of yardwork have been keeping me pretty busy.

But I felt I needed to make time to post about this:

One of my recent forays into the wilds of Wikipedia recently unearthed a gem of a word.

Esquivalience.

The ho-hum definition is "the willful avoidance of one's official responsibilities."

But according to Wikipedia, this word "is a fictitious entry in the New Oxford American Dictionary (NOAD), which was designed and included to protect copyright of the publication."

That's right. A fake word, made up solely to prevent copycat references from swiping all the definitions off the New Oxford's CD-ROM.

And it worked. Dictionary.com reportedly fell for the trap and included the word before being outed.

This reminded me of my family's decades-long argument over whether Trivial Pursuit includes a few fake answers for the same reason. (Mom cited this just about every time she was wrong.)

But lo, it turns out we've had it backward. Trivial Pursuit actually got busted for stealing intentionally incorrect answers from other sources.

I would hope that the Trivial Pursuit researchers behind those gaffes were promptly fired for blatant esquivalience.

Karen's pregnancy, in less than a minute.

How and why I got interviewed by ABC News.

Yesterday, I got an e-mail from Tim, the AdFreak editor, saying that ABC News was trying to find me. To truly understand the humor of this, you need to picture me reading this e-mail while at home on paternity leave, wearing pajamas, unshaven and generally unkempt.

Luckily, the reporter just wanted to do a phone interview about "Rick Rolling," the Internet prank I wrote about in AdFreak last July. As many of you likely saw, Rick Rolling got a renewed boost in popularity on April Fool's. (My personal favorite was the Muppets version.)

So I gave a quick phone interview, and the story came out today. (Click to Page 2, where you'll find my quotes.)

I doubt this will mark the beginning of my career as an Internet pundit, but you never know. Maybe I'll get interviewed about that footage of the chick seeing a ghost in her dorm shower.

Still not sure how I get paid to do this stuff...

We've just launched an agency promotion that I had a blast working on, so I wanted to share some of the stuff.

A few months back, we had a meeting to brainstorm ways we could promote the fact that we hired a new interactive chief. I pitched the idea of making Web videos that parodied bad-lawyer ads. Everyone else liked the idea, so I wrote up some scripts.

Here's the result, though I'll admit that some of the best lines were ad-libbed.





You can check out the full site here, and I've also been writing an in-character Twitter feed.


Hope you enjoy! The reactions so far seem pretty positive. Here's one writeup, and here's another (admittedly from the blog I write for, but still).

If you'd like to help pass the videos and site around, I'll make sure you have the people's fame and ovation forever.

Incoming!

Griner's guide to useful newborn swag

I've been meaning to blog about the stuff that really paid off during our first few weeks of parenthood. So here goes. Hopefully it will prove to be of use to future first-timers like us.

Vital: Swaddling blankets, regular and velcro.

Babies either love or hate swaddling. You'll know pretty quick. Ours is a lover. When she's fussy, nothing beats a tight swaddle. I think it's been the single biggest factor in Allison sleeping exceptionally well each night. (We usually have to wake her for the 2 a.m. feeding.)

There are tons of diagrams and videos out there to teach you swaddling, but I recommend asking the nurse or pediatrician once your newborn is actually out. Ask about "double swaddling" with two blankets. It can't be beat.

There are velcro swaddling blankets/sacks that are nice and highly recommended, but they'll never be as tight as a fine hand-rolled baby cigar. Remember, no swaddle is too tight, but it CAN be too loose (which poses a smother hazard).

Vital: Mylicon (but go dye-free and generic)

We call this anti-gas medicine "liquid diamonds," not so much because of its value as the fact that it only comes in teeny tiny bottles that last about two days. Honestly, I have no idea how effective it is, but gas is a huge problem for newborns, and our doctor said it's safe to give the baby Mylicon with every meal (and double at the last feeding of the night).

Try to find the generic version, and definitely get "dye-free." Otherwise, you'll be paying a lot and enjoying pink stains on everything you own.


Vital: Lots of pacifiers.

Just get a bunch. More than you think you'll need. Ditto for bottles, but we'll get to that.

Great: Diaper Champ

Simple design, and slightly less eco-disastrous than the Diaper Genie (which wraps each diaper in its own sack). As far as turd buckets go, I've been very happy with this one.

Great: Crib-side entertainment

Ours is a battery-powered jungle scene that lights up and plays music when you hit the button. (Amazon tells me it's called a "Fisher-Price Rainforest Peek-A-Boo Waterfall Soother." Vomit.)

It only runs for a few minutes, which is usually enough to knock the kid out. And I have to say, the music really doesn't bother me ... even after dozens of listens.

Great: A bassinet/cradle

We have a small house, but it's still been nice having the small cradle/bassinet that my dad built way back in history for my oldest sister. It has since held just about every baby in my family, and there's nothing better for easy baby stationing outside the nursery. As you can see in the picture, we even pimped ours out with an undercarriage black light. Just kidding. You'll only get to enjoy that upgrade if your baby has "teh jaundice."

That said, the kid doesn't really move around, so a laundry basket or dresser drawer (removed from the dresser, please) will do just fine.

Great: Dr. Brown's bottles (but hand-wash em)

If you're going bottle, this is the way to go. Easy to use and vaguely easy to clean.

Big caveat: Their clear bottles have been found to leach BPA, pleasantly described as "a hormone-disrupting chemical" that's been linked to premature puberty and cancer in lab animals. We had already bought ours when that study came out, so we're just careful about hand-washing the bottles themselves and using the dishwasher for the nipples and such.

There's supposedly a non-BPA model coming out, and there's also glass bottles if you don't mind the potential of your baby smashing it on the side of the crib and starting a bar brawl. (Karen has an awesome scar on her knee that has generally prevented us from seriously considering glass.)

Debatably great: Video monitor

Karen loves this thing because it provides immediate release for new-mom paranoid fears like "is my immobile baby still in the crib?" or "has someone replaced my baby with a big jar of Folgers crystals?"

I like that the monitor helps Karen relax, but I find it to be pretty pointless. Our house is very small, and I can hear Allison just fine from anywhere short of the backyard utility easement. Of course, if you have one of them fancy big houses with multiple floors and walls that actually inhibit sound, you'll probably want a video monitor.

Downside: You'll inevitably have nightmares about seeing zombies in the monitor. Or, if you click on the image above, you will now.

My favorite/most useful books: Happiest Baby on the Block, On Becoming BabyWise and Be Prepared: A Practical Handbook for New Dads.

We read quite a few books. You'll likely end up with most of the standards, but be sure to pick up the three I listed above. Happiest Baby teaches you how to calm a screaming kid. BabyWise teaches you a very successful sleep/eat schedule. Be Prepared is mostly just entertaining for dads, but it has some tremendously helpful advice (like the fact that it's OK to feel no emotional connection whatsoever when you're staring at your newborn).

Well, I hope all that helps someone out there. Maybe I'll do an update in a few months when I figure out what's worthwhile for toddlers. Oh, and of course you should all feel free to post your own findings and suggestions in the comments section.

Another victim of Prog Rock vandalism.

Hope to have some photos soon from the great tree split-o-thon of 2008, an event which is taking its toll on almost every muscle in my body. But until then, here's something I meant to post a while back.

When I came back after being out of the office for Allison's birth, I found that my four framed vinyl records had been stolen and maliciously replaced:




In case you can't see it well, that's two Rush albums alongside ones from King Crimson and Yes, all of which are practitioners of the worst music genre ever.

Luckily, the culprit stepped forward later that day, and the stench of Stephen King's playlist is now out of my office for good.



Whew.

Please don't put some sugar in my bowl.

My sister Kim recently laid down an awesome rule in her house. After one of my nephews was having attention problems in morning classes, a teacher suggested dialing back his sugar intake.

Kim took the bold and commendable approach of limiting their household to only buying cereals that have less than 11 grams of sugar per serving. Where'd she get the number? She admits it's just an arbitrary amount that seemed to be a dividing line between the healthier and overly sweetened cereals.

It seems like this approach is working wonders for her family. The boys are more settled, and attention in school has apparently increased. But perhaps more importantly, she's made them part of the solution by sending them on grocery-store scavenger hunts to pick cereals that are below the 11 gram mark.

Finding one of these cereals is harder than you'd think. As soon as Kim told me about the new rule, I went over and checked our cupboard. We mostly buy high-fiber cereals with clusters and flax and what the hell ever. Because, you know, we're old. But sure enough, almost all the stuff in our cabinet was at or above 11 grams.

Only Rice Chex (a personal favorite of mine) passed the test. It has 2 grams of sugar.

Kids' brands actually fare relatively well in this litmus test, largely because they've had their sugar counts weaned back in response to criticisms over the years. (Cinnamon Toast Crunch, which tastes a world of different than it did when I was a kid, only has 10 grams.)

So how's your cereal selection hold up to this test? Let me know in the comments if you found any surprises.

Click here to check out a chart of the sugar content in most cereals. If you're wondering who the real main offender is, you might be surprised. Raisin Brans of all stripes seem to tip the scales at 20 grams per serving. That's FIVE TEASPOONS OF SUGAR. Ye gods.

Allison Guy's birth: The slideshow

To scroll through the photos or find specific ones to print, visit the online photo gallery.

More updates to come, but the quick version is that everything's going great. Thanks for all the notes and support!

Allison Guy is here!

Born at 3:01 p.m. today, weighing 7 lbs. 3 oz.! More photos and reactions to come, of course.

Karen did fantastic!

Baby update 3: 1:05 p.m.

Things continue to go great. The doctor just came in for an exam and said Karen's 7 cm and 100% effaced (for those of you who understand the relative meaning of such things).

Not sure what this means for the timing. The doctor said "a couple more hours," but I'm thinking we'll be here a bit longer than that. Part of my assumption comes from the fact Karen is still totally relaxed and still reading a book. Of course, this might be because of her new best friend, Mr. Epidural. I got to rub one of her feet a few minutes ago, so at least I am earning my keep as something other than the birth blogger.

Baby update 2: 11:15 a.m.

Things are still going well, but slowly. Karen's epidural is in and working perfectly. She's been an incredible trooper so far, especially when they had to draw about a milk jug's worth of blood out of the back of her hand.

That said, I smoked her at gin rummy 2-1, so she must be a little distracted.

Baby update 1: 9 a.m.

After a surprisingly good night of sleep, we're back at the hospital, and the show's begun. Karen has started the induction, and contractions are slowly growing in intensity.

For now, she's comfortable, resting and reading a vampire novel. Pretty mellow scene at the moment, but I'm sure that'll change fast. So I'm not sure if I'll get a chance for another update before things get serious.

We're at the hospital. Aaand...now we're not.

First update: 3:35 p.m.

Karen's water broke about an hour ago, and we're now in our room at the hospital. Karen's comfortable and getting ready to see the doctor. No serious contractions yet, though, so it's hard to say how long this night is going to be.

More to come!

Second update: 4:36 p.m.

A bit of a false alarm, so we're heading home. Hospital offered to let us stay there, but we'll likely get more sleep at the house. (But still probably not much sleep.) We'll be back there first thing tomorrow morning to start the real show. (Promise.)

I wonder if I can fit a desk in my shower.

Sorry to make all of you picture me naked, but I assure you the mental image will only last the duration of this one blog post.

Anyway, got word this morning that my boss sold one of my new campaign concepts to the client. (Normally, I would have been there, but with the baby coming so soon, I didn't risk leaving town.)

What's interesting is that I thought up the winning campaign in the shower one morning after a few solid days of intense thinking with no results. This isn't the first time the shower's paid off, either. I think it's the fact that the morning shower is a transitional time, where Home Griner begins giving way to Work Griner.

That, and the fact that our house is an icebox all damn winter, so I always look for reasons to stay in the hot water as long as possible. Concepting seems like as good an excuse as any.

Thinking about this today, I was surprised to see this quirky item pop up in the OhGizmo blog:



Yep. That's a "shower curtain calendar." It lets you scribble 12 months' worth of plans onto your shower curtain. And while OhGizmo pokes fun at the idea, I think it's awesome.

Karen and I could use it to scribble notes back and forth after the baby's come along and wrecked any hope of quality one-on-one discussion. I could get a morning reminder about trash day, scooping litter, doctor appointments, family birthdays and early work meetings I might otherwise miss!

Oh sure, I suppose this might ruin the zen, purifying serenity of the shower a bit. Or...I might finally write that book I've been putting off.

That's it. I'm doomed to be the lesser Griner.

Considering that almost everything I've done in my professional life is on the Internet in some form, you'd think I'd at least be one of the bigger Griners on the Web. But no, I don't even come up on the first page of Google results for "Griner."

But now, just as I was coming to peace with that, a new Griner has come onto the scene in a big way. I wouldn't be surprised if this young woman even ends up being history's most famous Griner:

My Super Bowl ad pick.

For what it's worth, here's my pick for best Super Bowl ad:



Nice script, great delivery, simple premise. And a scary-clown joke to top it all off.

I would like the other one by E-trade, but the puke pretty well de-railed the spot.

A visual representation of my current musical interests.

These are just a few clips I've been meaning to share over the past few months, so why not do them all together?

First off, let me say that if you haven't purchased or otherwise acquired a copy of last year's album "Wincing the Night Away" by The Shins, you're missing out on something truly incredible. I don't care what kind of music you're into. If you have ears, you will love this album.

They even made videos for my two favorite songs, although I wonder where you even watch good videos these days OTHER than on YouTube.

Here's my favorite track from the album, and the video's pretty cute.

"Australia" by The Shins:



Mega huge thanks to Emily for hooking me up with an album that is essentially perfect.

On a slightly more obscure note, Karen and I found one of the greatest live acts around when we went to see Modest Mouse a while back. While Modest Mouse itself was weak, it was worth it to see the experimental lunacy of Man Man. Click here to see a loud, jarring clip of their high-energy stage presence, or you can watch this to actually hear what they sound like.

A while later, we got a chance to see Man Man again at a smaller venue in Birmingham. This time, their set wasn't so hot, but the opening act again made my day. The Extraordinaires were hilarious and very talented. A great find.

Here's The Extraordinaires performing "Neighborhood Watch," my favorite song off an excellent self-published album called Short Stories.



And one last one here. I simply love the husband-wife duo Mates of State, especially their newest album, "Bring it Back." Maybe it's their ability to sing completely different parts over each other, or the fact that no two songs ever sound alike (for better or worse).

Here's "Like U Crazy" by Mates of State:



So now that I've flooded your browser or RSS reader with massive, obnoxious videos....anyone got any other recommendations?

No zombies. No 'suggestive posture.' No gays. A look back at the Comics Code Authority.

The other day, I was talking to a friend about the MPAA, those loathsome morality police who took a good idea (parental notification of adult movie content) and corrupted it to become a puritanical cabal that dictates what we get to see in the theater.

But let's leave that rant for another day.

Talking about the MPAA, I was reminded of the Comics Code Authority, a nongovernmental group that was chartered in 1954 to excise any trace of adult content from comic books.

I remembered three things about the Comics Code Authority:

1. They were created in reaction to "Tales from the Crypt" types of comics that reveled in the grotesque and salacious.

2. Their stamp was on every comic I bought as a kid, at least until the 1990s, when their power waned with the introduction of independent comic shops.

3. Their morality was strict, eliminating all references to sex and gore.

But after our MPAA chat, I decided to read up on what was actually in the Comics Code. And as you will see below, what I found was a nightmare document of such reactionary zeal, it made Joseph McCarthy seem kinda lukewarm about communists.

Let's read a few highlights from the original code!

On the portrayal of crime:

• Crimes shall never be presented in such a way as to create sympathy for the criminal, to promote distrust of the forces of law and justice, or to inspire others with a desire to imitate criminals.

• Policemen, judges, government officials, and respected institutions shall never be presented in such a way as to create disrespect for established authority.

• In every instance good shall triumph over evil and the criminal punished for his misdeeds.
(No wonder comics always seemed so predictable!)

• The crime of kidnapping shall never be portrayed in any detail, nor shall any profit accrue to the abductor or kidnapper. The criminal or the kidnapper must be punished in every case.
(Wouldn't this negate half the comic plotlines out there? Dr. Octopus alone seems to have kidnapped Spider-Man's entire family at some point. I guess by "detail," they meant specifics on realistic ransoms and such.)

On semantics and design:

• The letter of the word "crime" on a comics magazine shall never be appreciably greater than the other words contained in the title. The word "crime" shall never appear alone on a cover.

• No comics magazine shall use the word horror or terror in its title.

My personal favorite:

• Scenes dealing with, or instruments associated with walking dead, torture, vampires and vampirism, ghouls, cannibalism and werewolfism are prohibited.
(That's right, no zombies or vampires. The restrictions were eventually lifted on vampires and other "literary" monsters, but zombies were still banned.)

Just plain weird:

• Special precautions to avoid references to physical afflictions of deformities shall be taken.

On boobies and proper coverage thereof:

• All characters shall be depicted in dress reasonably acceptable to society.
(Like spandex and adamantine armor.)

• Suggestive and salacious illustration or suggestive posture is unacceptable.
(For some reason, this always makes me picture a 1950s film-noir femme fatale leaning against a wall, smoking a cigarette while wearing one of those Carmen Sandiego hats.)

• Females shall be drawn realistically without exaggeration of any physical qualities.
(It's true. This is what all women look like.)

On sweet sweet lovin:

• Illicit sex relations are neither to be hinted at or portrayed. Violent love scenes as well as sexual abnormalities are unacceptable.

• The treatment of love-romance stories shall emphasize the value of the home and the sanctity of marriage.

• Passion or romantic interest shall never be treated in such a way as to stimulate the lower and baser emotions.

• Sex perversion or any inference to same is strictly forbidden.
(I'm thinking this was the one cited in the code's ban on homosexuality.)

In 1971, the code was revised after Stan Lee's government-backed storyline about drug abuse was nixed by the Comics Code Authority. This highlighted the fact that even a negative mention of drugs was forbidden.

But the code still pretty much read the same.

In 1989, the code was overhauled dramatically, to the point that it was almost
indecipherably permissive. Here's a telling sample:

• Scenes and dialogue involving adult relationships will be presented with good taste, sensitivity, and in a manner which will be considered acceptable by a mass audience. Primary human sexual characteristics will never be shown. Graphic sexual activity will never be depicted.

But by this point, the code was nearing the end of its days. In 2001, Marvel created its own ethical policy. New comic companies like Image (home of Spawn) didn't care a bit about comic code approval.

Wikipedia gives this update:

As of 2007, DC Comics and Archie Comics are the only major publishers still submitting their books for CCA approval, and in the case of DC, only books from its Johnny DC and DC Universe superhero lines, with DC Universe titles sometimes published without Code approval.

OK, so now that I've trashed the longstanding comics code (which, I have to admit, never really inhibited my enjoyment of comics as a kid), I feel I should address the big-picture issue: Should there be morality guidelines for popular media?

I think Marvel did the right thing by creating a code for its own publications. That way, a parent can generally be confident that a kid reading Marvel titles won't be exposed to anything too jarring. (Unless they grab a copy of Marvel Zombies, in which case that kid is going to be messed up for life.)

But it obviously comes down to an issue of individual parenting. In my ideal world, groups like the MPAA and the Comics Code Authority would exist to help make people aware of what's featured in a certain work instead of creating artificial limits on what could be included in, say, an R-rated film.

Will all this change soon when I have a daughter? Probably so. But I doubt I'll ever get to a point where I think it's a good idea for anyone to tell me what art I should or shouldn't be able to see as an adult.

Snow 'n' Joe.

Yep, it actually snowed this weekend all the way down here in Birmingham, Ala. I think this is the first snow I've seen stick since we moved here in 2005.

So how did I enjoy the winter wonderland of 1/20th an inch of snow? I ran out in my pajamas with Jonas, a camera and a dog biscuit. A few snaps later, Jonas had his treat, and I was back inside, sipping coffee next to the roaring fireplace.

All in all, a damn fine weekend.

Huzzah for home-improvement marathon.

I know it's been sleepy on the blog since the holidays. We had a great time up north with Karen's family, but I've been swamped with work ever since. I'm gradually finishing off some huge projects, but only in time to start new ones.

Speaking of big projects, this weekend looks to be a behemoth of home-improvement work. During one of this week's two massive storms, we noticed leaks popping up in our living room. I just found out a few minutes ago it's going to be about $836 to fix the entire area above the living room. (We have a flat roof, which I've honestly been worried about since Day 1.)

In addition, I'm heading into my fourth stab at installing a new sink in the guest bathroom. (The photo is of me celebrating the removal of the ancient rust-bucket sink from the 1950s.) It's going relatively well, but each night of labor ends with a new list of parts or tools we need to get from Lowe's. Sadly, I wasn't able to finish before Karen's mom rolls into town tonight, but I'm hoping to get it done tomorrow.

We're also getting estimates to install a full-sized dishwasher, replacing the one we have now, which was apparently purchased in Smurf Village. A bigger model will be quite a boon when we're washing bottles by the dozen.

Somewhere in there, I'd like to finish up the detail work on the house painting, and then there's the fence that's only stained a third of the way around. Oh, and converting the study into a nursery, complete with closet overhaul. All this, and just two months to go before L'il Griner storms the scene and devours 90% of my attention.