Socks! Dammit! Melting Snow! Shit!

So, we have this mudroom at our house.

I'm sure all of you understand the concept of a mud room, correct? In olden days, when you returned from the outside conditions from a hard days' huntin' or farmin' they would walk into the mudroom and strip off your boots, clothes, socks, etc.

Wife is happy her house is mud-free. Husband is happy that wife is happy. Kids are happy that the two aren't fighting.

Our mudroom is not only our mud room, it's also our computer room. Plus, it's connected to three different doors: the door to the garage (which also houses our trash cans), the sliding door to the backyard and the door to the front of the house. It also used to be our dog's room until he died last August. (sob!)

In any event, a lot of traffic comes through the mud room and I'm constantly hopping back and forth doing various things. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah.

So, yesterday I stepped onto the linoleum floor and (BAM!) the melted snowy water started seeping through my sock and into my right foot.

I bit my lip.

Then, I searched for another dry spot on the linoleum and, like Frogger hopping across the lily pads in the popular 80's video game, I jumped into the air. I landed with a SPLISH. The melted snowy water started seeping through my sock and into my left foot.

"Dammit," I grimaced cursing the melted snow.

"Dammit," I hear behind me.

My head pops up and, with wide eyes, I do a 180-degree turn. My two-year old son is staring straight at me.

"No, no, no," I say walking over to my son, but step into a big puddle of melted snow, which completely soaks my already-wet right foot.

"Shit," I scream, but it comes out like slow molasses and sounds almost like 'Sheeeeeeeeeiiiiiit'.

"Sheeeeeeiiiiiit," my son screams mocking my slow molasses speak.

"Dammit," I say condemning myself for saying 'Shit' in front of my son.

"Dammit," my son responds staring up at me with those innocent eyes.

I take a pause.

"No, Daddy messed up," I say to my son. "We don't say 'Dammit', we say 'Darn it', understand?"

"Dammit," my son responds with an evil smile. Then he runs away.

"No, no, no, wait," I scream and take another step towards my son and SPLOSH, my left foot steps into the same puddle of melted snow.

"Fuck," I scream out.

"Fuck," I hear someone scream behind me.

I twist around and see my three-year old daughter staring at me.

Sketchbook - Dinosaur!!!!

Eimer's Top 10 Reads of 2009

I've made a grave error. In a previous entry, I sounded off that I read approximately fifty books during this past year.

Apologies to everyone.

It was only 46.

However, two of the novels on my 2009 reading list were graphic novels (David Boring and Watchmen) which, if you're going by Mac's comment in my previous entry, David Boring doesn't cut the mustard due to the fact that it's less than 200 pages.

So, let's make it an even 45, which equals approximately 3.75 books a month.

Sounds about right to me.

In any event, I've uncovered a number of great books this year that I think would make great reads for all three readers of this blog.

So here goes. Below are my top ten reads of 2009 (in no particular order):

1. The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaimen It's The Jungle Book in the Graveyard! What a cool idea.This book is pure genius. The writing. The characters. Everything. It actually made me jealous after I read it.
   
   
2. The Giver by Lois Lowry Quite possibly one of the best horror novels I've ever read. And it's really not supposed to be a horror novel.
   
   
3. The Terror by Dan Simmons Great book. Great writing. Great story. I continue to think about this book almost a year after reading it. It would make a great mini-series on HBO or Showtime. Perfect reading during the cold months of winter.
   
   
4. Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card This is probably one of the most amazing science fiction books ever written. Seriously. This one is up there on my list of all-time greats. I'm curious as to why a movie was never made about this.
   
   
5. The Lost City of Z: A Tale of Deadly Obsession in the Amazon by David Grann A true adventure story about a true adventurer. This isn't Indiana Jones. This is a story of a man with an unbridled obsession to make a name for himself in this world, no matter the psychological cost.
   
   
6. The Stranger by Albert Camus I read this in my early 20's and thought I'd revisit this book in my late 30's. Nothing has changed. It's still a fascinating book about a very flawed character. However, is he really flawed? That's your opinion. Part of me understands his actions. Part of me abhores them.
   
   
7. 1776 by David McCullough This non-fiction novel starts out a bit slow, but it's worth the effort. McCullough has done his research about this particular year in America and, in the process, has created a truly entertaining history of the American Revolution.
   
   
8. Water for Elephants: A Novel by Sara Gruen This is another book that just took a hold of me and never let go. I couldn't wait to read it. Gruen creates an entire circus world that fills your head with beautiful imagery. Her writing is so good, that you actually feel for the characters, both good and bad. But, it's much more than a circus book. It's about growing old, past regrets, hanging on to precious memories and living your life to the fullest.
   
   
9. Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH by Robert C. O'Brien Saw the Secret of Nimh, but never read the book. I'm glad I did because the movie is a complete bastardization of the novel. O'Brien's fine writing style propelled this anthropomorphic tale into my top ten.
   
   
10. The Life of Pi by Yann Martel Like 1776, the books starts off a bit slow, but it pays off in the end. After Pi is on the boat, I found myself reading chunks of pages simply to see how this fantastical story was going to end.

WARNING: If you're interested in any of the above books, I implore you to not (NOT) visit Wikipedia to learn more. The Wikipedia summaries are filled to gills with spoilers that will ruin these books for first-time readers.

Mmmmmm.....donuts!!!

When I was six or seven years old, I went to a Boy Scout meeting with my brother, his good buddy Mike and Mike's Dad.

After the Boy Scout meeting, we exited the church and about two or three inches of fresh fluffy snow had fallen on the ground.

Mike turned to his Dad "Let get some donuts!!!"

Mike's Dad nodded and said, "Sounds good to me, let's go."

We all hopped into his truck (not sure what type it was) and zoomed out of the church parking lot and onto the snow-covered road.

My brother and Mike were talking about the Boy scout meeting (something about a box car derby, if memory serves correctly). I wasn't listening because all I could think about was tasting those fresh, piping hot glazed donuts followed by a nice, glass of fresh milk.

I was pretty giddy with excitement to say the least.

"We're here," Mike's Dad yelled as he pulled into Steeple Valley Middle School.

"Sweet," cheered my brother.

"Yeah," screamed Mike.

"Cool," I shouted.

Was there some sort of bake sale going on at the school that I didn't know about? I didn't care. I was hungry for some donuts. Chocolate covered. Old-fashioned. Smothered in white icing with those little flickers of funfetti on top. It didn't matter to me. My stomach started to grumble with anticipation. I couldn't contain myself.

All of a sudden Mike's Dad hit the gas and started twisting and turning the car around school parking lot. The car slid and twisted around the basketball hoops implanted in the middle of the playground while Mike and my brother hooted and hollered with glee.

I'll have to admit. It was pretty fun. It felt like a roller coaster ride at Cedar Point.

Then, just like that, Mike's dad pulled his truck out of the parking lot. Mike and my brother were giving each other high fives and telling Mike's dad how awesome he was.

We got dropped off at home and said our goodbyes to Mike and his father.

As my brother ran inside with his yellow bandana hopping in the wind, I stood there in the falling snow an utterly confused kid.

What in the hell just happened?

And where in the fuck were my donuts?

More Eimer in 2010

Anyone that has a had a kid (or kids) knows that the first two (or three) years are the toughest.

Literally, you have to give up everything to take care of these little bundles of joy. Unless, of course, you're a shitty father or mother.

In any event, the past three years (my wife and I had two kids in less than two years), I've put a lot of stuff on hold in my life including writing, cartooning, running and reading. Oh yeah, and hanging out with friends.

Don't get me wrong, I know that my life is never going to be the same. Hell, that's probably half the reason I signed up for Parenthood. I know there will be challenges, obstacles and problems ahead. There will also be fun times too!

I think having these little munchkins running around the house has revived the creative juices and passion to create. So create I will.

In 2010, I've started a number of projects and set a couple personal goals for myself. Some of the stuff I want to complete in 2010 are, as follows:

• More cartoons (I want to get back to the drawing board so to speak)
• Publish a short story (somewhere, anywhere with exception of this blog)
• Complete a children's book (I have a great idea and I plan to both write and illustrate)
• Finish a novel (I've got three, yes three, started. All good ideas. I want them to be grand
• More posts (Believe it or not, I want to write more Eimer Debris entries. I feel this blog has helped hone my writing skills which leads me too...)
• More 'Stories from Ghetto Kroger' (there's a lot more inside my head)
• Read even more books (this past year, I was able to read 50 books. I feel that this has also motivated me to get my ass in gear)

Daunting task? Yep. But as I get older I have to challenge myself to not fall into the dead-end dumpster of mundane. Everday I'm seeing a little more and more free time pop up. Not much mind you. But enough to keep my creative juices flowing.

And, I should add, as we speak I'm coaching my kids on their creativity. I'm challenging them to create new things, draw more, play more, imagine more...and watch less television.

I've got the creative whip a crackin'!!!! It's good to be back.

Here's to a great 2010...........for me!!!

The Last Starfighter Theatrical Trailer

What a great movie. I was talking with our Creative Director about this flick. It's a pity this movie didn't get embraced by more people at the time. I'm definitely going to rent this for my kids.

Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Memory

When I arrived in Cleveland in 2006, I was running around like a bat out of hell looking for work. I had a kid on the way. And I was jobless.

I needed money. I needed a job.

I answered a help-wanted ad in the newspaper that was looking for bartenders for private parties.

I answered the ad and, within one day, I was dressed in my penguin outfit serving drinks to guitar playing burnouts and music nerds visiting the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Don't get me wrong. It was a fun gig (heh, heh). One of the perks was I got to drink on the job. No, nobody knew I was doing this per se. But it made the hours fly by.

Two weeks into my Rock and Roll Hall of Fame bartending tour of duty, I was fortunate enough to work an event honoring the late, great singer Roy Orbison. I served drinks to his family and witnessed a pretty cool concert tribute to the Pretty Woman warbler.


All of a sudden this monster of a man approached the bar.

"Hey there buddy," said the 6 feet 2 inches tall, 350 pound man complete with handle-bar mustache, Metallica t-shirt, dirty jeans and black motorcyle boots. "Can you toss a little of that whiskey into this here coffee cup"

This guy was a shit kicker and, by the looks of him, you could tell he had stories to tell.

As I poured him copious amounts of free alcohol (myself included). We talked about drugs, sex and rock n' roll. (In that order).As it turned out he used to be a roadie for all the big name concerts. KISS. Monsters of Rock. Pantera. The Who. Grateful Dead. He had seen every band.

Every fucking one of 'em.

"Yep. Lots of memories," he bellowed slugging a shot of Jack Daniels and touching his finger to the cup for a refill. "I've seen if fucking all. Threesomes. Foursomes. Orgies. The best fucking cocaine you ever sniffed. And the best fucking rock and roll you would ever hear."

"You should write a book," I said nonchalantly.

"Sheeeeeeeeeiiiiiiit," he said cranking back another shot. "Nobody would believe half of it. They would think it was all some made up shit."

My mind started whirring. I had so many questions to ask this guy. But the concert was winding down and he was gearing up for tear down. He started to turn and get ready to do his thing. When I reached out and tapped his shoulder. He looked around.

"Excuse me," I said. "I'm very curious..."

I had his complete, absolute attention.

"...what was the best concert you've ever seen?"

The big man let down his guard. Then it seemed like he was reliving his entire concert-going existence in the blink of an eye.

Then he stared at me. Eye-to-eye. Man-to-man. This big thug of a man. This solid piece of shit-kicking machinery. With arms bigger than my legs. He crossed his arms and said something that I never expected to come out of his mouth..

"Alicia Keys," he said. Then he turned towards the stage and walked away.