( 10:17 AM )
Green eggs and Ham
My oldest son, Joseph, is 2 ½ years old. He’s talking a lot and asking questions in a broken English, Native American-type language. “No hungry, play baseball, outside.” “Jo-Jo no go nite-nite, daddy read one book,” etc. But even though he’s talking all herky-jerky, I know he’s understanding and absorbing everything around him. But sometimes he surprises me.
Last night I’m reading him his latest favorite bedtime book, “Green Eggs and Ham.” Which is a huge step up from all those really tediously, boring books like “Goodnight Moon” and “If you Give a Mouse a Cookie”. Dr. Seuss rocks, and no contemporary children’s book writer comes even close to the drug-induced, surreal poetry and illustrations that Suess was able to do. So, I’m into the rhythm and funky drawing of all the “Cat in the Hat” books and enjoy our bedtime story time.
I usually read the books out loud, while Joseph sits on my lap and looks at the pictures. He’s starting to say the last word of each line with me, like the backup rappers for Run DMC or the Beastie Boys:
I will not eat them in the RAIN
I do not like them on a TRAIN
I do not like them in a BOX
I will not eat them with a FOX
I do not like Green Eggs and HAM
I do not like them Sam, I AM
So that makes it even more fun for me, and I know it’s helping his language skills as well. But last night we’re reading “Green Eggs and Ham” and as I’m reading, I notice he’s not rapping with me, and instead is staring intently at the pictures. When I get the last part of a page and say “…green eggs and ham” he says: “No daddy. Green eggs and GREEN ham.”
I’m a bit confused for a second, then realize he’s right. The ham is green. But the book is “Green Eggs and Ham.” I never noticed that the color of the ham and the title of the book didn’t jive.
So now we read, “I do not like Green Eggs and GREEN ham.”
( 10:09 PM )
Escalator hell
I think I’ve already written about how much I hate escalators. Scratch that. How much I hate people on escalators. Escalators were invented to move people quicker. They are not rides.
I have to take two escalators at the train station to get to my platform, and every evening, there are two types of people trying to get to their trains – people in a rush, and people not in a rush. Guess which one I am. So every evening, I’m speed walking through the station to catch my train, and I hit the escalators (there isn’t a staircase choice) and I have to impatiently stand on this slow moving escalator, because some people refuse to walk up or even stand aside.
It’s infuriating. I wish one day I could get the guts to yell up at the lazy bastards and say, “Come on people! Let’s start walking! This isn’t a ride!”
This evening, the most extraordinary thing happened that proves these people are just a herd of lazy zombies. I’m riding the escalator with about 50 other stationary people, when the thing starts to make a loud screeching noise and comes to a complete halt. I swear – we stood there for 2 whole seconds as people looked around, literally wondering what to do. 2 seconds! I actually saw a women, a few steps above me, mouth the words, “Oh no.”
Oh, no? “Oh shit! We’re trapped on an escalator!”
After 2 seconds, some rocket scientist at the top of the escalator figured out that he could probably walk the remaining two steps to the top, and eventually, the realization filtered down to the rest of the idiots.
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