Toys in the Attic

John Hawkins compiles a list of fascinating quotes. Of course, people of different stripes will agree/disagree, but if you want to know the basis for conventional conservative thought and aren’t in the mood to read some early Reagan speeches (that’s the best place to go, by the way) then click the link for a quick overview.

This trick is somewhat small in scale, but you can sometimes make your loved ones look at you with a befuddled stare when you present your version of “The Cary Elwes Factor” while watching your favorite show/flick. What is this, you may ask? Well, here’s the story (and it’s 100% true and all MINE):

It takes place sometime 1998 as my wife & I plus another couple are enjoying the latest Morgan Freeman/Ashley Judd movie “Kiss the Girls” on the VCR. Yes, back in the days when VHS was still the standard. The movie, and if you haven’t seen it by now I’m not going to feel bad about giving you the spoiler, is, well as the outline states: “A detective is searching for a deadly collector. His only hope is the woman who got away”, or, in short, a whodunnit thriller. While filled with edge-of-your-seat scenes that make you wonder if Ashley Judd’s character will be killed at any moment, it’s really a mystery movie that has the audience trying to guess who the real killer is throughout as small clues are presented, albeit never a definitive one. The official running time of the movie is 111 minutes and I’m going to estimate on the exact figures, here, but somewhere around the hour-and-a-half mark, while my wife & our dinner guests are busy shouting out their guesses as to the real killer, I hit the pause button on the remote and scream out my guess: Cary Elwes.

The unison answer: “Cary Elwes? Which one is that?”

Me: “The cop that’s assisting the cop helping Morgan Freeman. You know, the dude from Robin Hood: Men in Tights, and the Princess Bride”.

Them: “Why do you say he’s the killer? He’s hardly been in the movie at all.”

Me: “Precisely. I remember him being third in the credits, yet to this point he’s had, what, 10, 12 lines? They didn’t pay Cary Elwes the money it takes for 3rd billing to play this small a role in a movie that is 80% complete. He HAS to be the dominant character the rest of the way in order to justify third billing, plus he’s Cary freaking Elwes…not a huge star, but not a B-grade actor, either. He’s not going to take a cop-buddy role with so few lines until this point unless there was some hitch later on that’ll be beneficial to his career. My guess is that the hitch will be him actually playing the role of crazed serial killer and it’s based on the fact that he’s too big a name in the movie biz to only have so few lines and a role this small”.

A few minutes later, we find out that Cary Elwes was indeed the killer and he dominated the screen at the end of the flick, justifying his third-billing standing.

Through the years, the Cary Elwes Factor has reared its head on constant occasions and with almost every instance, it proves correct. Watching an episode of CSI where the killer is unknown? And suddenly Ned Beatty shows up at the 44 minute point as the family dentist? Bam, Cary Elwes Factor. Ned Beatty in a tv show that has 16 minutes left equals Ned Beatty being the central character to the episode. See a character from the now cancelled Deadwood who is a suspect on the CBS show “Numb3rs? Heck, it can be two separate episodes and it still doesn’t matter because a full-cast member of an HBO award winning series isn’t going to be just another face in the crowd on a Friday night crime-drama, especially when the stars of Deadwood were still enjoying the show’s shelf life at the time of the airing.

Yeah, it can sometimes take the fun out of whodunnits or suspense features. Case in point, the last movie I saw, Gone Baby Gone (SPOILER ALERT). It’s just under two hours long & you as a viewer are trying to figure out what happened, right along with the protagonists of the case and everyone else watching. Well, everyone except those of you who recalled that Morgan Freeman is in the cast & realize that you’re 80% through the flick and he’s barely been on screen and has supposedly been cast aside as “retired” in the movie. Ahem, this is Morgan Freeman. So, yeah, it took a bit away from the movie when I knew that Morgan Freeman was going to end up being the money-shot-revelation long before it actually happened. Then again, for all it’s faults, the Cary Elwes Factor can also make your friends wonder “how did you know that?” because, let’s face it, how many people out there would’ve guessed Morgan Freeman being the true kidnapper halfway through that movie? Honestly, I knew it at about the halfway point because….well, the Cary Elwes Factor.

(End Spoiler Alert)

So, the next time you see Tim Curry show up on CSI:Miami or the guy who played the Soup Nazi is a suspect on Law & Order or James Woods/Shark is wondering whether or not to prosecute Alex P. Keaton’s dad, keep in mind that the Cary Elwes Factor hardly ever fails: they did it.

Here’s a quick video of my son playing basketball. In a nutshell, it illustrates his condition:

At least I know why I hit a plateau, despite doing “the right things”. I shoulda known when my last few workouts showed that I was getting weaker and each session was less intense (yes, I keep logs of all my workouts….I’m one of them) but I wrote it off to the decrease in caloric intake – which I didn’t think was that much of a decrease – only to be proven wrong.

What happened?

I was sick. Very sick. Despite a very recent recovery from bronchitis, I was stricken with yet another round of bronchitis (this one much, much worse) along with this season’s edition of the flu. Wham! Talk about getting hit over the head with the proverbial brick, when those things combine it means one thing only: enough strength to turn over in the bed and maybe – maybe – make it to the bathroom when the time comes.

Lesson learned: take all those antibiotics when they give them to you, not just enough plus a few days when you’re ‘well’. Today was my first day back at work in almost a week and I ran out of breath twice while talking. Yes, talking was too much. So, until next week I’m not even thinking about diets or fitness or lifting. Gotta put first things first, which now consists of pills and cough meds. And for those who haven’t been sick in years & who are wondering: no, they haven’t made cough medicine taste like something besides caster oil, yet. The flavored stuff is the kiddie cough syrup, not the ‘good stuff’ laced with codeine.

- No comments on this one because, well, it’d make me feel like I was almost begging for sympathy….well, I’m not. I’m on the mend. It’s just that there won’t be a fitness update for a while because I have ‘getting completely well’ as a higher priority at the moment.

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New site alert: Jay Caruso (one of the first people I read on the internet who had this thing called a ‘blog’. The other being the Hammer, Henry Hanks) is now on the 2nd amendment beat. Check him out here.

This week’s weigh-in had no change from last week. The word “buzzkill” just isn’t enough to describe how bummed I was. Ditto with the bodyfat %, which hasn’t budged in 3 weeks.

Well, now, this is pretty earth shaking in my realm:

Government health officials have conceded that childhood vaccines worsened a rare, underlying disorder that ultimately led to autism-like symptoms in a Georgia girl, and that she should be paid from a federal vaccine-injury fund.

Looks like a one-off thing, though. Mitocondria plus all that mercury in one day is bound to cause problems.

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In other news, my son is now tying his own shoes. For those doing the over/under, the correct answer for how long it would take after assembling a small robot on his own to begin to focus on wanting to learn to tie his own shoes is: “8 months”.

The best rock band on the planet writes an apolitical non-partisan pro-soldier song, a fan creates a homemade video & uploads to youtube, the band sees it & posts on their web site(s).

Here is “One by One”, by Alter Bridge:

On the fitness front, I was laid up for 9 days with a sinus infection that turned into that darn bronchitis. Yeouch. Monay’s weigh-in – the first in two weeks – provided a two pound loss, so I’m down to 239, but the % body-fat didn’t change (guess that means I lost a bit of muscle, too, @#$% it). I expect both to drop this week as Sunday was my first day of “feelling good” in quite a while & with that feeling of glee I celebrated with what seemed to be several barrels of chips & salsa and several bottles of beer (mmmmmm, beer), which means that I was carrying quite a bit of water weight. Nothing like a short vacation from activity to make one anxious to get back in the saddle. Hmmm….let’s shake things up a bit. Here’s the proverbial canvass that I’m working with:

That view is posted because it seems as though everyone is interested in either how much someone can bench press (I have no idea as I don’t try for 1-rep maximum lifts….ever) and how big their biceps are. For some reason, the bicep flex is “the” gauge by which one’s muscularity is measured. The above pic was taken on the 15th, the Friday before I got sick. At the time, I was 6’5″ and 240 pounds. [caveat: Now, there are diehard bodybuilders out there who are scoffing – for good reason – and folks who tip the scales at 400 pounds who are wondering if I’m obsessively narcissistic (answer: yes, I am), but really, I am the person that I’m judging myself against and I really know my inconsequential place in the whole scheme of things. I just decided a while back that I’m actually going to start using this web log as a LOG & as such start putting stuff up there about me, my family and then what I think about things]. I figure if I’m going to post all this fitness stuff, I might as well start plaserting the work-in-progress while I go along. Get used to it.

And with that rant out of the way, here’s another angle:

As you can see, the lighting makes all the difference in the world as the first pic shows greater detail while his one makes me “look” bigger. Same camera, same bathroom mirror, same pose, different angle & camera setting. Go figure. And, by the way, on the home-scale, I’ve lost another pound since Monday’s weigh in, so I’m getting jazzed about what’s in store.

And, yes, that IS a vacuum cleaner sitting in my bathroom. My house currently has that Sanford and Son, Salvage feel to it.

[hope this isn’t too filled with errors & makes sense…..I sat down & started typing & didn’t stop or scan]

The experience was more positive than what I anticipated. Of course, the actual inner-workings were rather mundane, nothing but simple bloodwork and a slew of pictures & questions (we’re only halfway through, to boot), but being in an atmosphere with other parents of autistic kids while at the Marcus Institute, all hailing from all different demographics, helped drive home that this is truly a phenomenon that knows no boundaries.

First, I have to tout my son’s accomplishment & also mention his first setback. The accomplishment may not sound all that big until you consider that this is a kid that just turned 8 years old & who is as mature, probably, as a 6 year old: he didn’t cry when they drew blood. He shook & was obviously scared silly, but he never shed a tear throughout the three vials of blood that they took. That’s m’boy. Daddy’s little girl, however, acted like a Frenchman happening upon a Boy Scout brandishing a Swiss Army knife: she boo-hooed from the moment we walked into the room until she realized about four seconds after the needle went in that “hey, this is nowhere near as bad as I thought it’d be”. My son’s setback: it appears that basketball just isn’t “his bag”. Not the ability part, but the social interaction. Everything will appear to be great but some small happenstance – it could be a foul, it could be a kid bumping into him, it could be someone passing it to him way to hard & hurting him, whatever – can sometimes set him off and he’ll go into shutdown mode. Most often it’s his getting angry & playing a lot too rough with his opponents, and I’m not talking about ‘good, hard basketball’, I mean the old-school Detroit Pistons dirty brand, where he’ll intentionally do a shoulder block to the other team’s player. Not good. I think we’ll give it one more game & see. I dunno. Part of the “who knows?” game that we parents of autism encounter on a daily basis. And, the little things that stand out among autistic kids leap to the forefront. Case in point:

The aforementioned games & practices have me sitting on pins & needles as I gauge his capacity to stay focused & enjoy the game. Until very recently, he’s been fine & when he’d obviously get the itch to do the autism thing (stop & stare into the abyss) a simple “Jared! Guard your man!” snaps him back to reality & all is well. I have no idea what happened two weeks ago that caused him to revert backwards after the ball hit him in the mouth & caused him to leave the game for a short time while we checked to see if there was blood loss. (yeah, I know, getting hurt can be a traumatic thing for any kid….everyone who missed a baseball & got konked in the head had a short period of time where they were then scared of the ball, but this is a bit different) To wit, NO, the pain wasn’t the problem, as he was fine within 4 minutes. No, it was that he went to the restroom & used the paper towels within to create a makeshift mouthguard, which he wanted to wear the rest of the game. As he said, “guard my teeth, Daddy”. Here’s the thing, I knew, as I was getting him ready to check back into the game, that as soon as that paper absorbed its share of moisture, it would shortly disintegrate into a million bits….and that he’d be on the court trying to figure out what to do with all this stuff that he was coughing up. So, as I tried to explain to him that the ‘teeth guard’ wouldn’t work & that he’d need to go on without it, he went into shutdown mode. So, you see, it’s not something like getting thwacked in the head that can send an autistic kid into a tizzy, it can be something as insignificant as a piece of paper in his mouth.

Now, here’s where it goes further and keeps this condition so mind-numbingly puzzling; my daughter’s basketball team practices a few days after my son’s & they often play scrimmage games against the coach, myself and my son (no, we adults don’t try at all…..we’re trying to miss so that they’ll learn to rebound and the like….onward). During these scrimmages, which are really games, my son is as ‘normal’ as any adult. I’ve gotten my wife to monitor all the little things like his eyework, where his head is pointed, he reaction time to all instances of interaction, his hand-eye coordination while attempting to accomplish a difficult task (like trying to dribble around a kid that is twice his size & who IS TRYING as hard as they can to take the ball from him). In every instance, during every second of every scrimmage, the autism completely disappears. I’m a God-fearing person, so I don’t throw around terms like this lightly, but as Jesus as my witness (and my wife as a second witness) my son is not autistic when he does that. And in that small summary, you have the quandry that is autism. If it WERE caused by a vaccination, then his brain would always function in the same manner as it would be a neurological ‘defect’. If it WERE caused by toxins, it would be ditto to the previous. If it WERE a problem with the part of the brain that deals with communication, then my son wouldn’t communicate & as I’ve shown, he’s quite the ham.

What. Happens. Sometimes. That. Makes. The. Autism. Seemingly. Disappear?

What then happens sometimes that makes him go Rainman on me over something as opaque as a piece of paper in his mouth?

One day, God willing, we can find out.

Anyway, back to the Marcus Institute: We were able to meet different families that are in a similar situation. The low-income single mother that knew next to nothing about autism whose son can’t utter a word and who admitted that until recently she didn’t know that kids with autism could even speak (if you can believe that), the middle-to-upper class kid who is, like my son, ‘barely’ autistic, white, black, boy, girl, whatever. And, most of all, we were further impressed with the most professional staff that I’ve ever encountered in any setting. I truly believe in my heart of hearts that there is a genetic link, as I’ve said before, because there are just too many similarities between me as a 6 year old and my son as a 6-8 year old. To darn many to overlook. Way too many. It’s just that while I was – and still am – a bit off the normal path that everyone walks (I’m more comfortable working with a computer than I am working with people, I preferred to play alone as a kid, I could sit for hours and read comic books or play with super-hero dolls, I often stayed in my own “little world” of reality and felt more comfortable alone & creating stories in my mind), I never truly left ‘planet Earth’, for lack of a better phrase. And, my own little anecdotal survey of other parents illustrates that I’m not the only case. Maybe, in the years to come as this particular study plays out, we can find out for sure if I’m right or if I’m wrong.

Oh, and a word to the wise: if you ever have blood drawn, treat it as if you’re donating blood, no matter how little they actually squeeze out of you. Meaning, EAT. We all forgot and by the time we were stuck in Atlanta traffic on the way home (ugh, I’d forgotten that hell) my bronchitis had taken over my weakened state & I could barely take in a breath while I heard two irritable kids bicker in the backseat. Eat. Can’t believe I forgot that one.

This brought a tear to my eye. Tomorrow’s when we begin the bloodwork for our part of the Emory/Autism study. I’m ravaged with a case of bronchitis & I hope that the meds won’t screw up my portion, since I (big-time guess, but an educated one) think I’m the major donor of my son’s autistic DNA.

The link shows, as most folks associated with autism already knew, that a good number of those kids are well above the norm when it comes to smarts. Pertinent quote:

“Autism is hard because you want to act one way, but you can’t always do that. It’s sad that sometimes people don’t know that sometimes I can’t stop myself and they get mad at me. If I could tell people one thing about autism it would be that I don’t want to be this way. But I am, so don’t be mad. Be understanding.”

No idea what the results of today’s weigh-in will be, but I do know that I’m starting to notice a difference in the mirror. Losing two belt loops tends to do that, I reckon.

Seriously, though, it’s nice to actually start seeing the changes. Sometimes the numbers don’t tell the full story. All I know is that I was exercising & looked at my form in the mirror & the light was hitting at the ‘right’ angles & I thought “hmmm….finally getting back to the old self”. Yep, time to smile.

Biggest obstacle to date: the fact that I’m forced to do with with basically zero cardio. Long story short: my children’s extra-curricular activities come first.

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I’ve mentioned on many occasions that I’m a fortunate person. Well, I add another item to the growing list: we have been chosen to participate in a groundbreaking study on autism, headed up by Emory University (Atlanta) and the Marcus Institute. The study involves possible genetic links to autism (no evidence of yet, but that’s what I’ve maintained all along, as there are simply too many similarities between me & my son to disregard the obvious), complete with blood work and a family history (insert southern incest jokes here, I suppose). Maybe something good can come from our situation.

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The definition of a good day: You find out that your son’s worst grade is slightly above what the state recommends (he’s in first grade, so there are no As or Bs, just overall levels of skill (“S” or something or other). In Jared’s case, he’s above the reading level that the rest of his class is currently undertaking, he’s above his class when it comes to math and is where they want ‘normal’ kids to be at in all the other areas. Not too darn bad when your autistic kid is above the norm when it comes to reading, eh? Well, to be honest, Jared is one of those rare kids on the spectrum (that’s ‘special needs slash developmentally disabled’ community speak for all you neophytes out there) who really doesn’t have trouble communicating (really, not a joke) but rather has trouble staying focused. And, yes, I know, “all kids are like that”.

Oh, the day gets better. My little princess brings in yet another report card with all As (fifth grade) & another 100 in spelling. She hasn’t misspelled a word since September. Her worst grade was a 90. Again. Add in that she rarely gets in trouble other than the small stuff (picking at her brother, rolling her eyes when she’s told to perform a chore, must.turn.off.television, you know the drill) and I’m one happy daddy.

Then, at the end of the day, I get an opportunity to do some computer stuff (won’t go into detail) and get an upgrade in a PC as a result. Did I mention that I’m a computer geek? Someone like me with a better computer is akin to telling a mechanic that he’s getting the latest set of Snap-On tools.

I tell you, I am truly the luckiest freaking person inhabiting this planet and for the life of me I don’t know what I did to have God single me out for so many blessings.

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New to the Ipod: Ann Coulter’s latest book, “if liberals had any brains, they’d be Republicans”. Probably what a liberal’s response is to an Al Franken book: hilarity. I tried working out to it last week; couldn’t be done. Too darn funny. After the first few chapters, all I could think was “poor James Walcott” (who has predicted the demise of Coulter after every book is published, which she revisits by reciting his very predictions, word by word, followed by how many weeks each book is atop the NYT bestseller list. Poor chap. Poor, poor, chap.).

- Funny moment that is also a sad testimony to today’s state of the world; my son’s readying to get into the bathtub & walks into the bedroom, turns around & hikes up his undies so that he’s given himself a wedgie/made a thong, wiggles his butt & says “look at that! Kiss it!”. While we’re all laughing, I grab my digital camera to record this for a future extortion moment (“son, I know you’re 17 & want to take that girl out on a date, but if you don’t help me clean out the garage I swear I’ll show her that picture of you in the thong“), snap a few & then say to the wife “you know, this will be great to use 10 years from now. But, then again, if I were ever investigated for anything & the cops find that file on my computer, I’ll be charged with kiddie porn.” Sad, but you know it’s true.

Despite my Super Bowl munch-out (chips & salsa….all day, baby, all day. Plus unlimited wings!) apparently was managed well. This week’s weigh-in had me at an unbelievable 241. That means 9 pounds down in three weeks time, after already losing at least 3 pounds in the first week (the home versus gym scales make this somewhat difficult to narrow down).

What that means is that I’ve “turned the corner” and my metabolism is now doing what I was hoping for. Usually, it takes me 7 weeks, this time it took four. I guess some things are better with age.

New goal: around 1 pound per week, for a while.

I feel like John McCain probably did last night.

Alternative title:

I.

Am.

Stylin’.

So, I started back on my ‘plan’ during the second week of January. The time I took off (roughly, 8 weeks) took its toll as I tipped the scales 9 pounds heavier than I ever had in my life. I did okay the first week, but the great news is that a week later my gym implemented a ‘challenge’ for all members. Well, of course, I entered (don’t worry, I have no illusions of winning anything, especially since I’d lost 4-5 pounds before it began), since that kind of thing is the sort of mental boost that I desire.

As Dewey Oxburger would say about this thing,





“which is perfect for me”,

…and it is. That’s all the ‘oomph’ that I needed.

Therefore, I began my ‘plan’ all over again on the 14th. Beginning weight: 249

The weigh-in on the 21st saw me lose 3 pounds, down to 246.

The weigh-in on the 28th saw another two pounds shed off, down to 244.

All these weights are sorta weird (this morning, for example, I was 241.5 at home) since I always weigh first thing in the morning at home & therefore all the weigh-ins at the gym are after I’m clothed & have downed all my pre-workout drinks & have had at least 32 ounces of water taken into my system (not that it all stays there, of course) so they’re all 3-5 pounds more than what I ‘really’ weigh first thing in the morning (yes, before you consider it, I have a self-calibrating scale….it’s right). Well, the mirror tells me that things are shaping back up, at least, & as soon as I get a video camera, I’ll start spicing this place up with some visual evidence. Thus far, overall, I’m down about 9 pounds, five since the contest began, depending on the time of day.

I sure hope February is as fruitful as January. Buck, Jay…..every time I think about ‘cheating’, I only ponder “what if my fat loss is so meager that they’ll think ‘what’s up with Ricky? That’s nothing!” & I go on. Thanks, guys.

Big obstacle this weekend: a wedding reception for one of my best friends in the world (free food!) and, of course, the once-per-year event known as the Super Bowl. Mmmmm, beer.

Ready to go all out in February.

Please click.

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I made it all the way to the ultra-sound (11 seconds) before tearing up.

“I was honestly hoping that he’d have been as far along as an adult as he right now.”

That quote belongs to my wife & the date is this morning. It came in answer to this question that I posed to her: “if five years ago, when he was diagnosed (at age three), someone had you shown you a video of our son today, what would you have said?”

My boy is eight years old today. MY BOY.



My little man.

My little guy who didn’t communicate when he was two & who has endured three surgeries on his ears.

My buddy, who has crossed more obstacles than most of you reading will ever encounter.

He’s eight. Wow, eight. My, how time surely flies.

Here’s my little buddy showing his memorization skills. He first heard the song “12 days of Christmas” Thanksgiving night, 2007 (the Chipmunk version, although he likes the John Denver/Muppets effort as well) & two weeks later had it memorized. This is from Christmas eve & most of the family is on the other side of the room as he performs the song. Yeah, my little autistic one is a ham & a showman.

By the way, even though I tend to brag on him, I underestimated him this weekend. He was given a Bionicle Lego set at his party on Saturday & I saw that it contained 228 pieces. I told my friend “two hours & he’ll have it completed”. It ended up being just under one and a half. I should’ve known better.