There is No Measure

I finished reading the original Jason Bourne book, The Bourne Identity, a few weeks ago and I was surprised how much I enjoyed it. I thoroughly enjoyed the movies and knew the plot of the movies was vastly different than the books. The basic idea is the same and the Bourne character has a little more depth in the book, but to me it was like getting to see another Bourne movie. Maybe that is why people buy all of those star wars books. At any rate, I just had to watch all the movies again and after watching them off and on over a weekend, I have to say the line that starts as the title of this entry is probably my favorite, “… there is no measure to how fast and how hard I will bring this fight to your doorstep.” Tell me there is a better line in any movie with decent action (outside of Rocky I-V & Rocky Balboa but those are all considered dramas) and I will call you a liar.

At any rate, I finished another book recently too, The Art of Racing in the Rain. I saw it at Starbucks when I was buying something for Angie and because I am an elitist, yuppy snob, I had to buy the book so I could discuss it over iced mocha in large leather chairs while discussing other topics I have no experience with like politics, the latest fad documentary, or the new music of some crappy garage band. Okay, that was a little over the top. I know a lot about politics, but that is neither here nor there.

The book though was an enjoyable read. You know where the book is going from the start. In fact, the beginning is basically the ending, but there are a few bumps along the road which make you appreciate the ending that much more. It is told through the mind of a man-want-to-be dog and he has some interesting insights. One I took particular interest in was the fact that most, if not all of us, are extremely bad listeners. We typically grab on to one point and divert the story to something related to us basically so we could just have something to say. I have done it, I have felt the need to do it, and now I am consciously aware of how often it happens. Interesting to say the least.

Panic Attack

This past weekend we took Will to the Mall of America to return some purchased goods and ride around on rides. It turns out that if your kid is too short or young, the parent gets to ride for free. Since Angie is pregnant, they don’t allow her to ride anything, so I had to squeeze my growing butt into the little plastic death contraptions and ride around with Will. All the rides were fine except the most innocent of all rides, the Ferris Wheel. They don’t provide any harness or restraint inside the Wheel’s plastic bucket, so a kid like Will is free to act as much like a monkey as he can. He actually did just fine until they stopped us at the top of the wheel (which basically puts you at roof height at the MOA). It wasn’t a jolting stop, but rather you got the sensation you weren’t moving at all. Its a little miss leading though because the plastic bucket you are in continues to rock back and forth.

At this point, Will decides he needs to stand up and look around. I looked at the crappy little doors on the side of the bucket and figured one kick from Will and he would be able to jump from heights I’d rather not put a number to, all the while we continue to rock back and forth.

I grab onto the main pipe holding us to the actual wheel, but that obviously didn’t make any difference and I am twisting the crap out of Will’s shirt to make sure I have a hold of him as we continue to rock back and forth.

I can clearly see the floor of the MOA and all the tiny people walking around and wonder how in the hell they would help us if something actually went wrong. Will is climbing up and around the seats at this point, why can’t he just sit still? Why the hell are we still sitting here? I am aware that I am sweating, the stupid bucket won’t stop rocking!

Finally the damn wheel moves again and we get off. Angie has a good laugh at me and Will is completely unaware of the danger we just overcame. I was pretty much fried after that and even thinking about it now gives me a sinking feeling in my stomach.

Home Alone

Well tomorrow Angie leaves for Indiana for the month of August. It is a bit of a precursor for possible residency there (assuming all goes well), so it could very well be worth the time and effort. She will, however, have to go two weeks without seeing Will. On the flip side, I have to spend two weeks along with Will. Actually it will be more than that, but Will and I are planning to go to Indiana for about 10 days. All of which Angie will likely have to work, but at least we’ll see each other. So if you fall into the BFF category with my wife, please keep her busy when we’re not there.

More to Come

I am hoping to post some photos of a finished garage soon, we’ll see.

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2 Responses to There is No Measure

  1. Lori Bruns says:

    I am proud to say I read the Bourne Identity back in 1986 – BEFORE the movies. Haven’t even seen the movies yet!
    Lori

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