Go edumacate yourselves on the economics of Unions. Read Dave Away From Home: Union Label.

It’s warm, and Spring is just getting started here in Denver. We didn’t get a Winter this year, just an extra three months of Fall. I don’t mind one bit. Put a half-inch of snow or ice on the road and my 30-year-old BMW handles like a 2,000-lb, greased water balloon.

Usually I see at least two State Patrol cars during my commute, but today they are nowhere to be found. I put the peddle to the floor and let all 98 little carbureted horsies run free. Oh baby! I’m even able to get into the fast lane and do a little passing. So what if I’m only passing a mattress that’s fallen off the top of someone’s car. I take what I can get.

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SpoonFighter has successfully moved to a new server. As far as I can tell, everything is working.

I’ve been busy.

I am the proud owner of a “condominium” which I purchased in a previous life and of which I have been unable to rid myself ever since.

There’s nothing wrong with it, but I hate being responsible for the house that I currently live in, much less this other residence. Hell, I’d live in a cardboard box if it had a garage. No mortgage, no chores, no maintenance. That’d be the life.

I’ve been over there a lot, lately, getting it ready to sell. Tonight’s task was to simply touch up the paint in the kitchen. I saw some cracks in the existing paint job, and so I tried to peel off the loose paint. Next thing I know, all the paint on that wall - 30 years and 4 layer’s worth - has peeled away in a single sheet, revealing the original plaster wall and several dead bodies. And buried treasure. Ok, I’m totally kidding about the treasure and one of the dead bodies.

Since Baby Names have garnered the largest number of comments in SF history, all future entries will be about Baby Names. I knows a good thing when I sees it!

SpoonFighter would like to point out that the last sentence of the previous post is an example of picking a top-ten name and misspelling it, as mentioned several paragraphs earlier. Spoon Spawn #1 will not receive one of those names. If you must know, we are actually considering these:

BOY
Rutherford
Rabbit
Bob
Trouser Sneeze

GIRL
Delilah
Jezebel Jones
Little Debbie
Rutherford

SpoonFighter Jr. is due in just a few months, and Mrs. SpoonFighter and I are busy trying to prepare for our debut as parents. We’re reading books and getting the baby’s room ready. I’m almost done cleaning up the broken glass.

They say you should talk to your unborn baby, to help it develop. Before we turn out the lights each night, I place my head close to my wife’s growing (but not fat) belly and encourage the baby to think about which chores it would like to do once it is born.

Picking a name is the main thing, right now. Most parents do this the wrong way. They pour over endless lists of names trying to pick ones that will say to the world, “this child has cool, creative parents.” Inevitably, they pick one of the ten, currently-popular names, and misspell it.

The poor kid then spends the next 18 years of his life explaining to teachers that his brilliant parents spelled it “Nicolas,” not “Nicholas,” and begging the other kids not to call him “Dick-less” anymore. Then a few years after college, at Thanksgiving, he announces that he has changed his name to “Ralph” and tells you that he and his “friend” are getting married.

The sad fact is that when you are picking a name, you’re really picking how screwed up your kid will be.

Name your daughter Jessica, and she’ll probably have a decent, mediocre life. Name her Jolyna, and she’ll need two years of counseling. Name her Jade and she’s going to be a stripper.

So what are we naming our little bundle of joy, our little Baby Spoon, if you will? Well, we want it to be original and creative, so we’re thinking “Isabella Caytlen” if it’s a girl or “Ayden Conner” for a boy.

—— Update added 2006-03-17 17:32 ——

SpoonFighter would like to point out that the last sentence is an example of picking a top-ten name and misspelling it, as mentioned several paragraphs earlier. Spoon Spawn #1 will not receive one of these names. If you must know, we are actually considering these:

BOY
Rutherford
Rabbit
Bob
Trouser Sneeze

GIRL
Delilah
Jezebel Jones
Little Debbie
Rutherford

Well, my shiny new watch arrived yesterday. Doesn’t work. Runs for exactly one minute. An attractively packaged, precisely-accurate minute, but still only a minute. Falls a little short of the 120 years and counting I’m getting out of the pocket watch.

The snotty chick I reached at Invicta could care less how new the watch is, that it still had all its original plastic coverings. Doesn’t want to help me. Tells me that if I want it looked at, under warranty, I have to pay to ship it to them AND send them $20.00 for “shipping and handling.”

Ahh. I see. It’s a racket.

So it’s going back to Woot for a refund. And I’m going to encourage everyone to avoid Invicta.

Mayhaps that’s a bit melodramatic. But the server on which the Spoon doth sitteth hath beeneth downth for, liketh, a whole day. Th.

But now we’re back. Anyone notice?

Although I still have not taken possession of my new Swiss-branded, Japanese-built timepiece, I did unearth the small collection of old pocket watches I inherited. Looks like most of them are worth somewhere between $20 and $50, but there’s one that’s solid silver, c. 1880, made by the American/Waltham Watch Co., which STILL WORKS. It’s 120-ish years old and it still works. Take that, Casio. It belonged to a multiple-great “Uncle Willie” who died some time before WWII, I’m guessing. Did I mention it still !@%!% works?

I also found a battered copy of Robinson Crusoe printed in 1900, and not-so-battered Bible from London, printed in 1858. Both the watch and the Bible are probably worth $100-$200 each.

And I thought I didn’t have an inheritance.