Jason gets political...I'm voting No on Prop 1

I thought I would do a political post today.  No, I won't complain about Trump (except this one time...Trump sucks!), I won't make fun of Democrats for sitting in their little bubble and not taking a look in the mirror (except this one time...Democrats...you're dumb!  Your elitism and "my way or you're a racist homophobe" attitude is a major reason why Trump won!), and I won't talk about wasteful spending routinely voted for by the Seattle and King County public.

Oh, wait...that last one I actually am going to talk about.

So...Prop. 1.  It seeks to raise sales tax by %.01.  Supposedly, this is approximately $30/year for the average household.  The goal of Prop 1 is to "provide increased funding for the arts, science and heritage education and access for students and families throughout King County."  Basically, as I understand it from Bill Nye and the multiple adds I see when I visit the symphony or the theatre, it provides funding to enable public school kids to attend shows or concerts or science activities, etc, for free. 

Here's the website: https://www.accessforallwa.org/

Perhaps you are surprised that I do not support this.  I am a patron of the arts.  I am a season ticket holder with the Seattle Theatre Group and the Paramount Theatre.  I purchase an annual package from the Seattle Symphony, usually 5 or 6 concerts.  I also donate to both organizations.  I teared up when I saw my oldest perform in Annie this past year.  He had 3 lines and they were the BEST LINES IN THE WHOLE SHOW!!!

And, while I don't make the same investment in science or heritage initiatives, I see the value in both.  We frequently visit the Seattle Science Center and Children's Museum.  I want my boys to be exposed to all of these things!  I want all children to be exposed to all of these things. 

So...why am I voting no?

Believe it or not, my complaints have nothing to do with the fact that my kids aren't in public school.  So, this will not benefit them at all.  But, that point certainly isn't lost on me.

I am voting no because I think there are more important places to spend our money.

The sales tax in King County is already at 10%.  And, the city council just got done telling us how regressive this tax is when they decided to pass a city wide income tax.  10% of the cost of anything I buy.  And, where does it go?

I mean...there are homeless people living on corners and under bridges all over the city. 

The police department is understaffed and needs to spend more and more money on training so they stop shooting minorities. 

The schools are meh.

I could go on. 

We are already over taxed and taxed in stupid ways...mostly sales and property.  We've been hearing all year about why our tax system is regressive.  Except, in this case, that's apparently ok? 

I acknowledge that many people can't afford to expose their children to the arts and sciences outside of what their schools give to them.  But, this is where private donations should step up.

When STG (Seattle Theatre Group) called me to donate, they told me all about their program for helping underprivileged families attend the theatre.  I thought this was awesome, so I wrote a check. 

The 5th Avenue, every year, has a program where high school students produce, direct and star in one of their season shows.  I thought this was a rad idea, so I wrote a check.

There are many people just as excited about things like this and many of them have much bigger wallets.  Call them.  Why take more money away from someone who is already spending a ton of money on school supplies and clothes for the upcoming school year? 

Arts are important.  They are VERY important.  But, so is solving our homeless problem.  So is solving the opioid problem.  So is solving the affordable housing problem.  So is transportation. 

I'm done giving the city and county more money.  They don't know what to do with the money they currently have.  I have zero desire to give them money for something non-urgent when they can't seem to figure out the immediate problems we're facing. 

Reasons I will Quit Google - Butter

Every day, there are fresh baguettes and home made butter in the micro kitchens.  Recently, they decided to replace the honey sriracha butter (which I thought was delicious) with a gross chocolate almond butter.  I had to choose to eat yucky chocolate butter, eat a dry baguette or skip it all entirely.  What a horrible choice to force me to make. 

My kid hates taking showers...except that one time

Lately, getting Desmond to take a shower has been similar to getting Trump supporters to admit their candidate is an idiot.

In other words...hella difficult.

In fact, just this weekend, we were preparing to go to the symphony.  We were getting off a long week of outdoor summer camp AND an overnighter with his buddy Connor.  So, lots of running around and getting sweaty and gross.  So, I made him take a shower before the concert. 

(The performance was Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone in Concert...the Seattle Symphony played the soundtrack to the movie while it was projected on a screen above the stage.  This is the 3rd such performance I have been to.  Psycho and Looney Toons being the other two.  So much fun!)

He goes in to the bathroom and comes out wet.  He gets dressed and walks to me while I am changing Opie.  Desmond puts his arms on the dresser/changing table and I instantly get a whiff of what smells suspiciously like BO. 

Immediately I stick my nose in my shirt and inhale.  Is it me?  No...I showered earlier.  I'm fine.  Is it Opie?  He often smells like pee, but he's not BO-ey, yet.  Not him.

I stick my nose in Desmond's armpit. 

DUDE! 

Honestly, I'm not even sure he got in the shower.  His pits were disgusting.  I smelled his hair, too.  Also gross. 

"You didn't do anything!  Get back in there and take another shower!"

"I already took one!  I hate showers!  I don't stink!"  Whatever.  Lots of complaining.  And, he complains all the time.  Every time he has to take a shower. 

I don't remember doing this when I was a kid.  Maybe I did, but I don't remember it.  I do remember playing in the bathtub until I was, like, 16 or so.  I had these little guys that would always battle each other in the bubbles.  It was awesome.  Wish it wasn't weird to play in the tub as an adult.

Anyway, getting Desmond to clean himself up has been a big pain in the butt.

Except this one time....

Yes, there was one time, recently, that Desmond didn't fight to take a shower.  In fact, it was his idea.  It wasn't a regular shower night.  It was a Saturday.  We hadn't done anything exceptionally active that would make him stink anymore than an 8 year old boy usually stinks.  We weren't going anywhere fancy the next day that he needed to be clean for. 

Yet, Desmond, of his own accord, comes into the bedroom and says to Kim and me, "I think I am going to take a shower.  It helps me rest."  He then proceeded to take about a half hour long shower.

This happened shortly after we got back from seeing Wonder Woman.

I'm sure it's unrelated. 

Babies are hard

You know those new parents that post all these lovely things on Facebook talking about how amazing their perfect little newborn is and how amazing it is to be a parent and how beautiful and amazing life is?

Those people are dirty liars.

Babies are effing hard.  Like, really really hard.

One of my biggest fears in going back into this whole parenting thing was the infant stage.  In the grand scheme of babies, Desmond was pretty easy.  I know this.  But...that never meant that I LOVED being a new parent.  I loved Desmond, for sure!  And, I love Opie.  But, dayam if I didn't often wonder why I gave up my cushy life for one that involves a baby.

Well, here we are again.  Mr. Owen Francis.

Thank the Lord God above for programming our bodies with an unconditional love for our offspring.  Because, if we didn't have that, I would be trying to trade this kid in for one of Beyoncé's babies, or something.  He is not an easy baby.

This kid NEVER sleeps.  Like, ever.  He takes, maybe, 2 or 3 ten minute naps throughout the day.  I know that kids fight sleep.  But, this kid is a black belt.  And, in order to keep him from melting down from tiredness, you have to hold him while standing up and bouncing him.  Don't ever put him in a sitting position.  He won't like that and he'll cry.  Don't walk around without bouncing him.  He won't like that and he'll cry.  Don't, under any circumstances, put him down.  He won't like that and he'll cry.

I'm feeling for Kim a lot.  I work during the day.  Kim is an amazing woman.  If I say I want her to sleep downstairs some night so she can rest, she refuses.  She says, "You have to go to work all day."
I recently acknowledged to her that my job is easier.  I have a routine.  I know what I am doing.  Any curveball I am thrown I have typically experienced before and can adjust.  None if this is true with a newborn.  Not to mention a newborn who is almost never happy.

I have to remind myself that we're only 2 months in.  He's still itty bitty.  But, then I instead end up reminding myself that we are a LONG way from 18 years old.

I am currently writing this at 10:30.  I am beat ass tired.  Kim is already in bed (hopefully) getting some sleep.  I could easily crash right here and now.  But...I am on the first shift tonight.  I HATE falling asleep and having the baby wake me up 15 minutes later.  I would rather just stay up, take care of him when he wakes and then crash for 4 or 5 hours after that.  Kim takes the next shift.

But, when I do this, when I stay up, the dude doesn't wake up until midnight.  Last night, I stayed up until midnight before finally going to bed.  He woke up at 12:30.

Oh...how funny.  Just as I typed that, he has started to peep.  Maybe I'll get to bed early.  Night, all!

Good thing he's cute.

No more babies for me!!!

You heard that correctly.  I am done having babies!  Forever.  No more little Pankows running around after this one.

I manned up and went to visit the one and only Dr. Snip!

No, that's not his real name.  But, it is the name of the clinic.  And, what a brilliant name it is.

Why did I decide to do this, you may ask?

Well...simple.  I don't want any more babies.  Thankfully, neither does Kim.  Now, there are multiple ways to make sure you don't have more babies.  There's birth control until the end of time.  Or until my wife's body enacts it's natural form of birth control.  Then there's the tubal something or other where the doc goes in and ties all Kim's plumbing up.  Then there's the snippy snip

Birth control means continues pill popping or other method which just isn't that fun.  Tube typing is another invasive procedure...although, she's already got the scar from her C-section.  Maybe they could just go in that way.  Oh well...too late now.

The obvious choice was a vasectomy.

I have a few friends who have done this.  I also have friends who absolutely refuse!

Well...now I am in the club.  It's been about a week and a half.  Here's how it went down.

ALERT...TMI POST COMMENCING.  IF YOU DON'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT IT, TURN BACK NOW!!!!

I scheduled the procedure on the Friday before Independence Day.  Google gave us both Monday the 3rd and Tuesday the 4th off.  I figured, get snipped on Friday and have 4 days to recover.  Brilliant!  Oh, plus...Desmond was visiting Grandma and Grandpa in Arizona and Kim was taking Owen to the other Grandma and Grandpa in Richland.  This means I have the whole house to myself!  I can squat on the couch and play video games while icing my nuts all weekend!

One small catch...I'm not allowed to drive myself home.

Uber it is!!!

You probably know this about me given some of my posts.  I am not shy about talking about stuff like this.  I mean, it's life, right?  It's only embarrassing if you let yourself be embarrassed.  Well...I am the same way in real life.  So, when the Uber driver asked me if I had any plans for the weekend, I said, "Why, yes...I do."

When he learned what I was doing, he asked me about 1000 questions.  Dude was a young guy.  Unmarried but with a girlfriend.  But, he was sure curious!

Anyway, arrive at the office and the get me right in.  A woman comes in and gives me a lot more info (with pictures) than I actually wanted.  Like, I didn't realize that they actually bring the "vaz" out of your nutsack.  I would have been fine without knowing that part.

Lady leaves, Dr. comes in.  Super nice dude.  Completely non awkward.  But, I guess you figure out perfect bed side manner in situations like this when all you do all day, every day is look at man junk.
No gown required.  I crawl up and basically drop my drawers a bit.  And he goes to work.

Now, Dr. Snip advertises a "No Needle, No Scalpel" procedure.  The anesthetic is applied through a weird pen thing.  He zapped me twice.  It didn't hurt at all.  He described it as feeling like your being snapped by a rubber band.  I have felt worse rubber bands.  The only problem is...2 zaps didn't cut it.

I mean, that didn't surprise me given the amount of space that needed to be numbed, if you know what I'm saying.

He started tugging around and I was like, "Agh, DUDE!"  You ever try to remove an avocado pit with a spoon?  That's what it felt like.  On my avocado pit.

So, he zapped me again.  After that...no problems.

He was pretty chatty during the whole thing.  My body reacted a bit (sweating, high heart rate) but it passed.  At one point the Dr. says to me, "Do you want to see your vaz?"

I answered, "Nope."

"Ok," he says.  He slaps a gauze on me (no tape, no stickiness...just loose gauze) and sends me on my way.

The Uber driver on the way home thought this was the funnies thing he had ever heard.  He seriously laughed at me the whole drive.

Anyway, I got home, grabbed an ice pack and proceeded to lay low.  Kim and Owen decided to come home early, so my weekend of gaming was foiled a bit.  But, that's ok.  I found myself missing them a lot.  Mostly because I didn't have anyone to complain to about how much by balls hurt.

The pain was mild.  It felt like I had been punched in the stomach by Hulk Hogan.  I am not a doctor, but I haven't been able to figure out why my stomach hurt.  I'm sure I could look it up, but I am too lazy.

So, that's my story!  No more babies for me!  Kim can still have babies, but I can't.  Guess I can really let loose and go crazy, now.

Oh...I forgot.  Before I left the office, the Dr. says to me, "You know how when little kids are good at the doctor the get a lollypop?  Well, here you go."  And he hands me this.

Sad that I can never be a repeat customer.

The worst smell I ever smelled

I still remember the worst smell I ever smelled.

It was from boot camp.  Long long ago. 

All the new sailors arrived in Chicago at different times.  We basically had to wait around the airport until everyone else arrived.  That took pretty much the rest of the day.  Once everyone arrived, we headed to Naval Station Great Lakes.  We did a bunch of administrative stuff, got our uniforms, heard some rules and regulations and went to bed around midnight.

They woke us up at 4 am and we immediately got to work: marching, exercising, marching, running, exercising, marching, marching running...basically, lots and lots of physical activity.  All day long. 

Finally, before dinner, we headed back to the barracks and we were told to shower.  All of us.  We all go into the bathroom and get undressed to clean up.  There were probably 20 of us.  20 dudes who have been working out all day, traveling the day before and haven't showered in at least 48 hours.  Butt naked (emphasis on BUTTS).  In one bathroom (much like a high school locker room without the lockers).  No ventilation. 

It smelled.SO.BAD!  Like, some of us were literally gagging.  We were laughing about it.  It was pretty damn funny.  But, man...it smelled horrible!  Think of all the places that get smelly on one's body, multiply that times the hours of physical activity, multiplied by 20 naked dudes. 

Got that smell in your mind? 



Ok, now I have something worse.  For the first time, my brain can barely remember that boot camp smell because it has something new. 

Imagine a small outdoor garbage can. You know the one.  Where you throw all your house garbage.  Ours isn't too big because we're such awesome recyclers and composters.  On average, we probably put one bag of garbage per week in there.  Until Owen came along.  Now, it's one bag of garbage and about 3 or 4 bags of dirty diapers.

Now...imagine going out to that garbage can just before garbage day to throw some last minute items in before putting the can on the curb.  Imagine that at least one bag of dirty diapers has been in there for 6 days.  Then, imagine other bags of dirty diapers being put in there as the week progresses.

Now...imagine opening that can. 

This is the new Worst Smell I Have Ever Smelled!!!