surely there's a big word for it

The Sesquipedalian. That's the name of the family newsletter. Yeah, I come from the goofy family that has a family newsletter. I do love it. To my suprise, the family matriarch (my aunt Barbara) included this blog in the most recent version of the Ses. Thank you aunt Barbara for the reference, you geaux girl.

So, for those of you who are new to this blog as a result of seeing it in the Ses, welcome. You'll find some of the earliest posts of interest and quite a few posts about family (especially my dad). Except (possibly) for J.R., most of you will probably want to skip anything about hp calculators. If you want to know me better though, this blog is a great place to start.

Of course, sesquipedalian means given to the use of long words. This family does use long words. With a special ability to find 7- and 8-letter words--thanks to Scrabble. Yep, we're a Scrabble-nuts family. Maternal grandmother Hazel was top nut for a very long time. At family reunions we recount old family Scrabble games. I still recall games where I scored more than one 50-point bonus for using all 7 letters in my rack and still lost the game. It's not true that this family will do anything for each other. We will--except, that is, show mercy on the Scrabble board.

I would think it would be really cool to see our family word end up on a family Scrabble board. So next time you see PEDAL on the board, add your IAN to the end. It just may happen that Barbara has SESQUI ready to append to the front. Oh, and don't challenge PEDALIAN, you'll lose a turn.

Sorry for a blog post that was a foot and a half long. Welcome all Holts.

esquire, you gotta be kiddin' me

Esquire magazine recently listed the best sandwiches in America. Close examination of the list reveals the McRib sandwich as one of the best. Now, I'm pretty sure that the other sandwiches on the list--most of which look awesome and are not from chain restaurants (except for the Chick-fil-a sandwich)--are all much better than the McRib--even the Chick-fil-a sandwich is much better than McRib.

If you are what you eat, I am (at least partially) a barbecue sandwich. It's enough that you've insulted me by suggesting that McRib is one of the best, don't trash Kansas City because we love pickles with our sandwiches. (We do.) Think about my handle, kcrazorback--I mean, I am a combination of pork and Kansas City. Esquire has obviously launched a personal attack against me (just kidding, of course).

My readers will remember one of my earliest posts which contained the family's McRib story. Hmmm? Perhaps, to at least one family member, McRib was one of the best.

presidents' day salute to you and me

Today is Presidents’ Day. You know we’ve only had 42 of those guys. And, it is appropriate to salute them. So, salute! On our next President’s Day, there will be a 43rd.

With just 42 presidents today, though, we could spend an entire half-hour saluting each one of them and still get 3 hours of sleep. I don’t propose that, but I do propose that we extend Presidents’ Day honors to anyone who has served as president of any organization. You were president of the student government in 8th grade, salute! You are president of the local chess club, salute!

At one time, I was president of the Kansas-Western Missouri chapter of the American Statistical Association—top plains geek, sort of. I have also been president of my local chapter of the Future Farmers of America (my future did not actually end up in farming, except that one day I spent branding beef cattle, but I do support agriculture by eating). I suspect there have been other presidencies that I’ve forgotten. I could be president of the failing memory club.

All of us who have served as president should be honored today. Please comment and let me know of your presidencies, and, hey, salute to you!

taz the tomato

Four-year old kcrazorback daughter knows the word tornado. However, when she's talking fast, and she does talk fast when she gets going, it comes out sounding like tomato. But it's not how she says tornado that's funny. It's her dramatic presentation of a tornado that is really funny. She spins into the room much like the Tasmanian devil from the old Bugs Bunny cartoon and announces the tomato.

valentine's day salute to my sweetheart

Mrs. kcrazorback generally does not want to be mentioned in my blog or Facebook page or personal Web site or anything else. Offline, she is the greatest support for this husband that a guy could have.

To my wife: You are beautiful and wonderful and altogether fabulous. You are funny and smart and capable of anything. You are a fantastic wife and a better mother. You are sweet and beautiful (redundant, I know). You are honest and genuine and even brutal when you need to be. You are incredibly passionate for (or against) almost anything. You are the only one I want to spend my time with--whether 20 minutes for lunch or 40 more years of growing older together. We have been together for 22 Valentine's days--19 of them as a married couple. I am so thankful for every one of them. I thank God for you.

the mav, um, chick magnet #2

I told you about my moped in this earlier post. But upon turning 16, suddenly car trumps moped. So, the question is, what kind of wheels could possibly replace the chick magnet.

You've got it. The same Ford Maverick that was the setup for the punchline in another earlier post would become "the Mav," my 1976 Ford Maverick. In fact, I even bought the thing from my parents. They should've paid me to take the thing off their hands.

Not only was it a really cool car, but I got to share it with my twin brother while we were in high school. But due to my really cool paper route (that I kept until age 18), I probably got a lot more behind the wheel time.

Really, this kind of car is the best for teens. I mean the maximum speed was about 55 mph--not the speed limit (OK, it was the speed limit at the time), but the car's maximum speed. Above that, it would start to shake pretty good. I did get a speeding ticket one time for going 71 mph. I don't know how I did it.

It took its last breath on Sycamore St. in Fayetteville, AR in late 1989. Sold it for scrap. But that was not until after it saw me through high school, college, most of graduate school and marriage. I'm telling you, that car really was a chick magnet. My college sweetheart liked it.

It's funny how college sweetie and I have now been together for 21 years and married for almost 19, but that car has been gone for a very long time. I wonder if, perhaps, it was me that she liked and not the car. Nah...

cinderella

Our town does a really cool thing each winter: Cinderella's Ball. If you can imagine hundreds of little girls and their dads eating, dancing, etc. at a big party you've got the picture.

Four-year old kcrazorback daughter and I attended a week ago. It was really cool. I danced with my daughter. I had fun with my daughter. She had fun with me. It was a very special evening (friends and family can see pictures and a video on my Facebook).

Contemporary Christian artist Steven Curtis Chapman has a really great song called Cinderella (hear it here). You see he knew something the prince never knew. I know the same thing. Midnight arrives too quickly. Cinderella will be gone. The song brings a tear to my eye. Actually, the truth to the song brings a tear to my eye. I know my little girl won't be little for very long.

I have to treasure every moment. I have to dance with her at every opportunity. I have to. I don't want to miss anything. Midnight is coming.