What Scares My Kids....

My kids are 4 and 5...almost 5 and 6.

My wife and I try to protect them from the crazy, dark, terrible world as much as possible.

Truth be told, I would like to think that we're a bit on the conservative side when it comes to taking care of our kids.

Like all normal parents, we make them say 'please' and 'thank you', we curtail their pop and sugar drink intake, we keep the candy and treats to a minimum and, believe it or not, we send them off to bed around 8 p.m. every night.

Yeah, yeah, I know. What fantastically awesome parents don't do this? Right?

Anyhow, when it comes to movies, I think both of us tend to fall on the liberal side. They've already seen Labyrinth, The Goonies, Short Circuit, Something Wicked this Way Comes, Wizard of Oz, The Dark Crystal, All three Spiderman films, all six Star Wars films, Planet Earth (uncut!) and even a couple mild horror movies. You get the idea.

Come to think of it, I think members from both sides of our family are very liberal when it comes to movie watching.

Case in point.

About six months ago, my kids stayed overnight at their grandmother's house (I'm not going to tell you which one). The next day, when we walked into the house to pick up our kids, JAWS was playing on the television. Not the watered-down, syndicated CBS version, but the real JAWS. The bloody JAWS.

It was the final scene where Quint was being eaten by the big fish. I remember this distinctly because I thought, "Wow, I guess they watched the whole film."

The kids sat there dumbfounded and creepily enthralled. Their mouths were agape. Their unblinking eyes glued to the TV set in a horror-movie stupor.

My wife casually glanced over at the 'grandmother-who-would-not-be-named'. And, taking note of the looks of disbelief on both of our faces she immediately went on the defensive.

"What? You guys watched it when you were their age!" she barked.

So true.

Expecting the worst nighmares that night from our children, we drove home and proceeded to get our kids ready for bed.

Guess what happened that night? Nothing. Not a peep.

They had just witnessed bloody arms floating in the water, a shark being eviscerated with a license plate falling out of its gut and Quint getting gnawed by a Great White - like a dog chewing on a discarded Turkey bone.

And they slept like, well, babies.

Enough of the backstory.

So, last night, I decided to use my Time Warner Kids 'On Demand' to select a cartoon for the kids to watch before they went to bed (Membership has it's privileges).

I came across The Berenstein Bears. In particular, an episode titled 'Get The Gimmies and The Green-Eyed Monster' caught my eye.

"What the hell? Looks interesting enough" I thought to myself and clicked play.

The first 15-minute episode was about Brother and Sister Bear learning a lesson that they can't always get what they want (as the Stones so prophetically stated in their song of yore).

However, the second episode "The Green-Eyed Monster' was a bit different. It told the tale of brewing sibling rivalry and jealousy from Sister Bear, when she receives Brother Bear's hand-me down bike due to the fact that Brother outgrew his smaller bike and the Bears had to buy him a new one.

Whew!

Well, Sister Bear is pissed. In fact, she so perturbed that she creates a doppelgänger of herself which the Bears refer to as the little green monster. Well, you can watch half of the episode here to get an idea of what the hell I'm talking about (if you're antsy forward along to the :24 spot):


After the show was over, I stood up, clicked off the TV and said, "Okay guys, time for bed."

Total silence.

That's when I looked over at my two offspring. Their eyes were wide open. They had petrified looks on their faces like they just witnessed a dead shark being eviscerated by a knife and a license plate falling out. My son's lips were quivering in terror.

My daughter, in all sincerity, asked, "Is the Little Green Monster going to kill us tonight?"

Really? I mean, really?

After about an hour of explaining that we just watched a cartoon, that there is no such thing as a little-green monster and that it's all made up - they finally went to sleep.

However, my daughter had two nightmares about the The Little Green Monster, which were both apparently disturbing enough for her to pull herself out of bed in the darkness of night to wake my wife and I.

And my son? Well, he woke up in the morning and talked about the many graphic dreams he had concerning the little green monster.


WTF Berenstein Bears? Thanks a lot for scaring the living shit out of my kids!

I guess there goes my viewing plans for the kids this week...Nightmare at 20,000 Feet from Twilight Zone: The Movie...

Blood Tests & Not-So-Bad News

I just had a blood test yesterday. Not by choice. Doctor’s orders.

The blood test was at 8 a.m.

After they drained my arm, I hopped into my car and went on with my daily life. You know - work, creating unique ads and copy for various cell-phone, pharmaceutical and retail companies, day-dreaming about not working, running, drinking a cocktail or two and - more importantly - contemplating my life.

You see, the night before, I had just heard from a friend that Adam Yauch (MCA from The Beastie Boys) was diagnosed with cancer. So, suffice to say, I was feeling a little weird about life, death, giving blood, and the pursuit - or the end - of happiness.

In any event, around 4 p.m. my cellphone rang. It was a number that I didn’t recognize.

Out of curiosity, I answered.

“Hello, Mr. Eimer?” The voice on the other end said.

“Yeah?” I asked thinking it might be a telemarketer.

“Uh, yeah, this is Doc Brown.”

My eyes perked up. “Oh hey! How’s it going?”

“Um, not so good. We received your package today.”

“Really?” I said. “That was fast. They said it would take a couple days for the results.”

“Mmm, yeah,” the man said on the other line. “I’m afraid we have some very bad news.”

The blood drained out of my head. My heart started to pound.

“Hold on a sec.”

I was driving, so I decided to pull into the next available driveway to brace myself for the bad news to come.

I swallowed, regained my composure and calmly put my face to the phone.

“What is it?”

“Well sir, I opened your order, here and -"

For a split second, my mind shot out all the possibilities. Was it Leukemia? Diabetes? Crohn's Disease? The big C?

"Annnnd?" I asked.

"And....well, I'm sorry to say this, but none of your pictures turned out.”

Wha? Pictures? Order? Package? Could this be some sort of cruel joke?

“What pictures, exactly, are your referring to?” I asked. "X-rays or something?"

"No, no X-rays," he said. “The black and white film roll that you dropped off last week."

My mind went blank.

“Who is this, again?” I asked.

The guy seem perturbed. “Doc Brown from McCallister Photo.”

“You’re a doctor?”

“Nope," he said. "That’s just what they always called me.”

I let out a deep sigh, thanked the man, hung up the phone and smiled.

That was the best bad news I heard all week.

Hell, I'd even wager all year.

Funny Michael Cartoon.

When it comes to recent devastation or a celebrity death, I always turn to the political cartoonists to turn an colorful spin on an otherwise sad tragedy.

Everyone has their opinions about Michael Jackson, but I thought this cartoon, illustrated by cartoonist Peter Broelman, was a humorous pearly gates tribute to a talented, misunderstood and strange man.

Holy Shit! Michael Crichton is Dead.

I came across this article announcing the death of Michael Crichton.

Shocker. Not the fact that he's dead. (Everyone dies.) I just never even heard that he was sick.

I've read a handful of his books (some in a single night) including Jurassic Park, Congo, Sphere, Prey and Eaters of the Dead among others.

However, my most favorite Crichton book was his autobiographical adventure novel titled TRAVELS. After achieving everything he wanted in his life by the age of the 30, Crichton went into a bit of a depression. He decided to exorcise his demons by taking a much-needed vacation and, in the process, chronicling his journeys for all of us to read.

Take note from this book (and his death). Live your life to the fullest before - as my friend Brian Z said - you take the eternal dirt nap.

Remembering Alex

Three years ago, our dog Alex started to go blind.

A quick X-ray showed that she had a brain tumor.

Less than a year later, she was totally blind.

Surprisingly, she handled herself very well. In no time at all she was walking around our house without banging her head on any furniture.

I wish I could say that I would have handled the situation with such gusto.

She loved to chase balls (the tennis and soccer variety.) So I grabbed her old soccer ball from Old Navy, cut a small hole in the ball and inserted some bells that I bought at a local pet store.

Alex had her very own jingling blind ball (patent pending).

Save slamming into a couple trees now and again, she had a blast chasing that ball.

It didn't even seem like she was blind.

Life went on. We moved. We still took her on walks. And I still kicked that raggedy old ball around.

By this time, there were no more bells in the ball, but she could still chase it by the sound of the ball rolling in the grass.

Then she had her first seizure.

The doctor said to expect more in the near future. And, if it happened, it was up to us to decide when to end her suffering.

It was early morning on June 25, 2007. Alex had three seizures in eight hours.

If you've ever seen an animal (or a human) have a seizure, there's nothing you can really do. You have to wait. And watch. And wait. Until the seizure is over.

It's freaking brutal. I can't even imagine watching a person you love go through that.

I just started a new job in Cleveland. So we decided to wait until after work to take her to the doctor.

That day would be her last day on Earth.

Around 11 a.m. I got another call, Alex had three more seizures. I called my wife-to-be and we both left work around 1 p.m. and headed for home.

It was time.

We picked up Alex and took her to the Metropolitan Vet Hospital in Copley, Ohio.

The doctor took her into the room to place a catheter in her arm. As we waited, my heart started to pound. Then the tears started to roll.

After five minutes or so, the doctor told us to come in. Alex was in the corner shaking and scared. But her tail started to wag when she heard my wife-to-be's voice. (I was an adopted father to Alex).

We had a couple minutes with her and told her goodbye. The doctor came in, explained the procedure and we both got on the floor with her.

She inserted the first shot of this green liquid. About 20 seconds passed and Alex slumped to the ground in a sleeping position.

She was still breathing. But silent. A couple seconds later, she injected another shot and checked her heartbeat.

Less than 10 seconds later, she was dead.

The doctor left. We spent about five minutes in the room with her.

I didn't think I'd be as emotional, but I was happy I was there.

They cremated her body. Her ashes are still in our garage.

We're still waiting to take the ashes to spread on one of her favorite spots...the beach at the jersey shore.

Until then, they'll remain in the garage waiting to be freed. Possibly next Spring or Summer.

Here's to you Alex.

I miss kicking that old, raggedy ball around the yard with you.

Oh Yeah!! Refreshing Kool Aid Links

More links to make you want to crash through a wall:

• I found an interesting site called Findadeath.com. It tells, in gory detail, how our most beloved iconic stars perished. One of the more interesting findings are pictures of Chris Farley's dead body. If you dare, click on Directory, click on Chris Farley and scroll to the bottom for the pics.
  
  
• If you're a fan of Bill Watterson's Calvin and Hobbes comic strip, check out this link to some of his early, rare works including political cartoons when he was attending Kenyon College.
  
  
• Someone posted this funny Time For Some Stories link up on Reddit a couple days ago. It's the supposed true stories of a Canadian man in his 20's that goes by the name of 'davesecretary'. Great stuff that could very well be made into a film.
  
  
• If you're into Stonehenge as much as I am, you'll enjoy this time-lapsed history of the mysterious rock sculpture from the BBC news.
  
  
• My buddy, who is an art director and a photography enthusiast, sent me a link to Lost America: Night Photography of the Abandoned West. There's some very cool stuff on this site that I would be proud to hang on my wall. Hmmmm, maybe I'll do just that.
  
  
• Being a journalism major from The Ohio State University, I thoroughly enjoyed this clip from Gawker on The Dangers of Being a Television News Reporter.

• Oh, and one more thing, looks like those mysterious lights in Arizona I talked about in yesterday's post, was much ado about nothing. Click here for the story that will spawn a thousand copycats.

Murder Hill Revisited

A couple weeks ago, I was rummaging through a big box of stuff searching for my 2005 tax return (don't ask).

Although I didn't find the tax return, I was extremely excited to unearth this long-forgotten piece of early Eimer lore (click on each image to enlarge):



I was around eight-years old when my brother, my neighbor Tony and I wrote up our secret plans for Murder Hill, a torture area for enemies who breached our secret hideout.

It was our Guantanamo Bay. It was our little own Abu Gharib Prison. It was our little Hostel getaway where we could hop off the school bus and blow off some steam by torturing our very own terrorists before dinner.

Geneva Convention be damned! I now introduce you to Top Secret Plans of Murder Hill, which was a real, authentic clubhouse designed by my brother and I nestled somewhere in the Martins Ferry, Ohio, countryside. My lawyer also advised me to say that no real tortures took place during this time.

You Must Say Password To Continue. (HINT: It rhymes with PILL)

MURDER HILL JAIL

This was a very interesting drawing by yours truly. First off, I'm not sure what benefit a 'Mote(sp) of Dirt around the jail' would have. But, hey, I was smart enough to realize there was no way in hell we were going to build a moat of water and stock it with a fire-breathing dragon. So a moat of dirt seemed like the next best thing. Also, I think my early viewing of prison movies led me to engineer a 'door to put food through' and to include no handles on the inside of the jail. Eat your heart out Frank Lloyd Wright.


MURDER HILL PLANS


The plans were pretty straight-forward. However, I think I needed a bit more creativity on the No Trespassing signs. In regards to entry #3 (Get Hat Off Rack), my brother and I had an extensive hat collection. In essence, I think the act of choosing a hat off our rack was a quicker way to initiate someone into our gang than getting a skull tattoo, which I'm sure was discussed.

In regards to entry #2 (Make Two Things That Will Hurt People), Tony and I got a little overambitious and decided to create three things that will hurt people. On that note, I'm not too sure where my brother's torture device drawings were. Perhaps, being three years older than us, he pulled the hierarchy card and opted out of this particular plan.


MURDER HILL TORTURE DEVICES
Here are three torture ideas from Tony who, ironically, went on to become a jet fighter pilot for the United States Air Force (no kidding):

My personal favorite is the go-cart torture. I give Tony props for using his go-kart to create a very effective and wicked torture device.

And now, I introduce my three torture devices. All mispellings aside, my ideas are a little more copy-heavy than my neighbors. Some may even think a bit more creative. However, I'll let you be the judge of that:

Personally, I think all of my torture devices rock. But, if I were to build a torture chamber in the near future (say in a year or two), I would definitely use the hammer/mouth torture as a marquee attraction to lay some psychotic pain on unwanted intruders.


MURDER HILL WHEN DONE


Well, there you have it, the blueprint of Murder Hill when finished (or 'done' as I eloquently stated). I like how the author (i.e. myself) also teased future members with the possibility that this wasn't it. Oh, there were many, many more torture devices in the pipeline for the Murder Hill Gang

Just like Fight Club, this was only the beginning of something bigger and better. Tyler Durden would be proud.

I'm still on the lookout for the other top-secret files that I created for another one of our gangs, The A-Team, a blatant rip-off of the hit TV show. Of course, I was Col. John 'Hannibal' Smith (played by George Peppard in the show) because I also loved it when a plan came together.

Much like the Murder Hill Plans you see above.

Six Random Wednesday Thoughts

Thought #1
Remember my previous post about a nude Natalie Portman in Wes Anderson's new movie? Well, I finally watched Hotel Chevalier, the 13-minute prequel/short to The Darjeeling Limited and let me tell ya, the nudity ain't all that. To be honest, I was a bit underwhelmed. I'm sure this short was meant to be a major plot-point segue into the feature film. Don't get me wrong, it's finely acted by Portman and Jason Schwartzman. But, as far as nudity goes, it's a 2 out of 10 stars. She had a better look in Closer.

Thought #2
If you completely take out the concept of evaporation, I wonder how long it would take for you to fill a swimming pool with your own pee?

Thought #3
Yesterday, my future father-in-law - a staunch Republican - switched parties, signed up as a democrat and voted for Hilary Clinton in the Ohio Democratic Primary. His reasoning: "I don't think McCain will win if Obama gets the Democratic nomination." Don't know why, but I thought this was a very interesting strategy. I wonder how many other people did this?

Thought #4
As each day goes by and the realization that I'm going to be on this Earth a limited time slowly sets in, my urge to move out of rainy, cloudy, slushy Ohio grows stronger and stronger.

Thought #5
Last night, I imagined my two kids being 12 and 13 years old. Although I already know what I'm going to say to my son when he starts to masturbate. I imagined this great speech I was going to give them about being a sister and a brother and standing up for your sibling and protecting one another from bullies and danger. Then, in my imaginary conversation, I started talking to them about drunk driving, doing drugs and peer-pressure. That's when I thought up this quote:

"Look If you're ever in a situation and something in the back of your mind is giving you a funny feeling and telling you not to do it, that's your intuition talking. That's your sixth-sense saying that something's not right in Denmark. You should listen to that little voice, because 99% of the time, that feeling is right on the money."

It's that point in my imagination when I see them roll their eyes, let out a big sigh and leave the room.

Thought #6
Is anyone, besides myself, going to be watching The Wire series finale this Sunday on HBO? If you want to see one of the best television series, ever (that's right, you MASH-loving fags!). Start with the Season 1 DVD box set and get acquainted with the good, the bad and the ugly of Baltimore's drug scene. Great acting. Great writing. Great direction. Simply great. For pure selfish reasons I want you to watch it, just so I can talk about it with someone besides my five-month old son.

What Five Songs Will Be Played At Your Funeral?

Sometimes, when I'm jogging, I cut into this graveyard and do a couple laps on this 1/4 mile cul de sac.

This past Saturday, I decided to say 'Hello' to my little ghostly friends.

As I rounded the corner and passed the metallic graveyard gate, I looked up and my shoes came to a cartoony screeching halt.

Lo and be hold, a funeral service was taking place.

People dressed in black, were standing next to a casket with a pastor reading scriptures. Two women were dabbing their eyes with tissues. Their husband's consoling arms were draped around their shoulders.

Add some snow flurries dropping from the sky and five plus inches of snow on the ground, and you've got a stark funeral scene straight out of the movies.

Having never, ever seen anyone at this particular graveyard, it was an eerie sight to behold. So I decided to forgo my jaunt amongst the dead, and opted for a different route home.

Personally, I would feel a little weird if I was at a funeral and a jogger in a hunter's orange cap listening to an I-pod ran by. Wouldn't you?

On the run home, my mind reverted back to the funeral.

Then I started to think about death.

Then I started to think about my death.

Then I started to think about my funeral.

Then i started to think about the five songs I would request to be played at my funeral.

Now, if anyone has seen High Fidelity with John Cusack, The making of a great compilation tape is hard to do.

To quote Rob Gordon from the movie:

"You gotta kick off with a killer, to grab attention. Then you got to take it up a notch, but you don't wanna blow your wad, so then you got to cool it off a notch."

Magnify that times ten for the perfect Death Mix Tape at your own funeral.

Seriously though, it would be tough to choose the five perfect songs from your vast collection of musical memories.

In addition, you would have to pick music that's somewhat uplifting, yet a bit melancholy. Although you would want people to have a good time and remember you in a good way, you wouldn't necessarily want people to pull out the cardboard and start breakdancing at your funeral.

Or maybe you would.

Plus, you have to choose music that not only defines who you were on this planet, but music that digs deep into your soul and portrays the heartbreak, the happiness, the sorrow and the joy you experienced on this Earth.

That said, if Death walked up to me today, tapped me with his sycthe and told me I was going to croak in 24 hours, here are the 5 songs I would request to be played at my funeral...

1. Sing It Again by Beck


2. I Don't Know by The Beastie Boys


3. Hurt by Johnny Cash


4. Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd


5. Big Balls by AC/DC

Keep in mind, if you talked to me in a week, a month or a year, some of the above songs wouldn't even be considered.

That said, more than likely, I will probably always include a song by the Beastie Boys, Johnny Cash and Beck. Some other artists under consideration were songs by Radiohead, Jack Johnson, Guns N' Roses, Cake and Lucinda Williams.

Seriously, depending on the day and how I'm feeling, the possibilities for my Death Music Mix are like Death's job on this Earth...endless.

Now I'm curious, what would your five songs be if you were going to die in 24 hours?

And please be sure to leave your name. I need to put a face to the songs, man. I need to put a face to the songs.

Eco-Cremation, Rotting Corpses & Compost Piles.

If you ever have the pleasure of having a sit-down, heart-to-heart with Your Finest Eimer, you'll ultimately get to know a couple things about who I am as a person.

First off, I cuss a lot. And, when drunk, I tend to throw my comments into the juvenile gutter with jokes about sex, drugs, pooping, peeing, fucking and sucking.

Secondly, when I die, you'll find out that I don't want to be buried in some stupid casket where I can be dug up and studied by aliens (both illegal & space), anthropologists or even Indiana Jones.

In fact, now that I think about it, I'm not too sure I want to be cremated either.

What's a dead, rotting human corpse to do?

Well, I wasn't too sure either until I picked up this book called Stiff, The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers. In the book, Author Mary Roach talks about different uses for your body after you die.

For instance, did you know you can donate your body to a plastic surgeon school so they can practice facelifts on your dead head? You can also donate your body to CSI so they can learn various dates and times of decomposition in different types of environments (in the cold, heat, outside, woods, etc.)

It's a great book and a fantastic read. But, the part that struck a cord with me was the chapter dedicated to a new type of eco-cremation called...RESOMATION.

You know that big compost pile you have in your backyard filled with egg shells, pieces of steak and old spaghetti? Well it's sort of the same process. But it's a human body. And it's sped up to just under three hours.

Resomation (from the Greek word resoma meaning the rebirth of the body) is a process for the lawful, ecological disposal of human remains. Well - lets be honest - it's not exactly lawful in the United States, but a company in Great Britain called 'Resomation Limited' is one of the first companies to market this world-wide alternative to burial and cremation.

So how does it work? Well, I'm not a scientist, but according to an article I found in the British Newspaper The Mail on Sunday, your body is placed in a silk bag withing a metal cage frame, which is then loaded into the resomation machine.

The machine is then filled with a mixture of water, potassium hydroxide, and heated to a high temperature (around 160 degrees centigrade), but at a high pressure which prevents boiling but instead promotes dissolving.

In just three hours (a viewing of the movie Titanic), your body has successfully been transformed into a small quantity of liquid that's filled with amino acids, peptides, sugars and salts and calcium phosphate.

The liquid and the dust are returned to the next of kin to do with as they please. In my case, I think it would be neat to be composted somewhere cool like a rain forest, the Adirondacks Mountains or even Ohio Stadium. And unlike cremation, a composted body is filled with nutrients that will help, not harm, the environment. Your body will actually help trees grow.

It's the circle of life, man. (Pass the joint.)

Look, even if I achieve eventual cartoon or writing stardom, I really truly don't think my body will be up there with Tutankhamen, Stalin or even Jim Morrison. I can only hope my funeral will be as exciting as the Ayatollah Khomeini - when some three million mourners showed up and idly grabbed at Khomeini's coffin, pried it open and, eventually, yanked their beloved patriarch to the ground. Now that's a fun funeral.

And with the rapid number of baby boomers having heart attacks due to the consumption of too many McDonalds Egg McMuffins, it won't be long until our cemetaries are filled to the rim...with Brim!

That's why the idea of resomation is extremely intriguing to this aging Gen X'er. I mean, who says there have to be only two ways to get rid of your body? The government? Pfffft. Fuck that shit!

If I ever come into any extra money, I would definitely invest in a company like this. Hell, I may even become a caretaker. Plus, I would offer an affordable price that would give crematoriums and old-fogey funeral homes a run for their money.

So who's with me?!? How much do you want to invest?