Girls only like Guys who have Great Skills

When I was a kid, my dad could always fix anything. He did a lot of the contract work on our first house in Coaldale. He repaired my Merlin electronics game after I poured water in the speaker (just to see what would happen). He even replaced the engine in his old truck using an old swingset in our backyard as a hoist.

In Wisconsin, my friend Jazzhands practically re-modelled their house in his spare time. Over several Saturdays he built an entire fence around his yard, including the cement post foundations. His wife would pick things out of the Pottery Barn catalog and he'd build a perfect imitation in their garage. (Then he'd strap on his sparkly suspenders and celebrate freedom as a Showchoir yankee-doodle-dandy.)

I can't do any of those things. I own no tools. I have none skills. I lack patience. Whenever I begin fixing things, it generally ends with a special procedure I call, 'smashy-smashy.' I tried to put together a pinewood derby car for Jake one year. During the third race a back wheel fell off and it careened into the next lane where it collided with the opposing car and caught fire. Another happy childhood memory for Jakey.

So it should be not surprise that when our toilet started running last month I had no idea what to do. I had tried nothing and was completely out of ideas. For several weeks we had to sleep with the bathroom door closed, so the noise of water leaking from the tank into the bowl didn't keep us awake at night. I started inviting relatives to visit in the hopes they might fix it for us.

Finally, I accepted the fact that I would have to deal with this myself. After all, I will soon have PhD - surely I'm smart enough to be able to fix the toilet. After checking the internet, I identified the problem as a faulty 'flapper'. (Apparently, flappers aren't just twenties-era, free spirited women who drink martinis while dancing the Charleston at Jay Gatsby's house.)

The website presented a 'simple' step by step process for replacing the valve:

1) Drain the toilet tank
2) remove the flapper
3) purchase replacement
4) install
5) re-fill tank

Simple? Sure, why don't I just design and build a new space shuttle while I'm at it?

Draining the tank and removing the valve went just fine. Then came the most difficult step of all - going to Home Depot. I don't think I've ever been to a home improvement store by myself, I've only accompanied other guys who actually do this sort of thing and know what to buy. I had a particularly memorable trip with the Rock Star once (People thought we were a gay couple because he picked out all these foamy paintbrushes).

A well-installed flapper is a joy forever.

Thankfully Kaddi was along and steered me toward the pumbing section, then picked out a flapper that resembled ours. As we headed towards the checkout counter I consulted an employee to make sure I had selected the right model. "Oh yeah," he said, "you get that thing home and you'll be in plumber's paradise."

And he was right. Once I installed the valve and reconnected the chain - I was in paradise. It was the first home improvement I'd ever completed. There must be a badge I can get for this. Maybe I'll start working on my Chief Scout award again.

Everything went smoothly. Until I got to the last step...

Eat Fresh & Spicy: the eharmony model

(For an interesting article on the LDS Church and the fallout of proposition 8 in California, see the National Review's article: Legislating Immorality)

This week the dating website eharmony agreed to provide homosexual dating services as part of an out-of-court settlement in New Jersey. The agreement ended a three-year lawsuit filed by Eric McKinley, who accused the company of depriving him of his civil rights after it declined to match him (according to twenty-eight points of compatibility) with another man.

In addition to successfully altering eharmony's business model, McKinley also received five thousand dollars - compensation for the pain and anguish of feeling like a "second-class citizen" after discovering eharmony had no drop-down menu for 'men seeking men.'

Strike another blow for progress.

Advocates of such a decision see it as helping to end the rampant discrimination against society's last minority - homosexuals. They argue it is no more justifiable for eharmony to refuse to match-up gays than it is for a Woolworth's lunch counter to deny pouring coffee for black customers. It has de-segregated the world of online dating.

Once again the argument just won't stand up.

The case of eharmony has nothing to do with the ethnic, religious, or gender identity of its subscribers. It has everything to do with the type of services eharmony is willing (and qualified) to provide.

Consider:

Let's say an Indian person enters a Subway restaurant, orders a meatball sub, and eats it at a nearby booth. Then a Chinese person enters the same Subway, orders the same meatball sub, but is informed the restaurant won't serve him because he's Chinese. This is discrimination. The establishment refused service solely based on ethnic background.

But, what if the Chinese person enters Subway and orders Kung Pao with white rice? The employee informs him that Subway doesn't serve Chinese food, he'll have to go somewhere else.

The Chinese customer remains adamant. He wants Kung Pao, and he wants it from Subway. He feels rejected and distraught. The fact that Subway serves only Eurocentric-themed sandwiches denies his cultural heritage and makes him feel like a second class citizen. If they persist with their policy he'll have to file a lawsuit to ensure equal protection under the law.

Is this also a case of discrimination?

eHarmony is guilty of refusing to serve Kung Pao. It's purpose, its expertise, is in finding levels of compatability between women looking for men, and men looking for women. Heteroexual communication is its meatball sub. Dr. Warren, founder of the company, has said in multiple interviews that he never accounted for homosexuals in his business plan because he had no training on the dynamics of gay relationships.

(That shouldn't surprise anyone. Everyone knows all Christian conservatives are homophobes.)

eharmony's sister-site, compatibilitypartners.net, will launch sometime early next year. I'm sure the gay community will be thrilled with the quality of online dating service they'll receive. I predict it will be so popular, so effective, it may put the hundreds of existing gay-dating websites out of business.

And I'll bet Subway would make great Kung Pao, if only they weren't so prejudiced...

Baby Bangs

For years I assumed that the term “Baby Bangs” referred to babies when they are growing hair. It’s all new so it looks very short. I have since discovered the true historic reference to “Baby Bangs.” After having Jake and Meg my hair fell out, but at a normal rate. After having Luke it’s like my hair follicles were in a race with one another to see who could leave my scalp the quickest. You want to know who won? They all did. I have never in my life lost so much hair, mainly in the front. Luke of course is the cause and culprit. So for months now I have invested a small fortune in hair products which promise to slick down any hairs that are a nuisance (pomade, gels, dapper dan).

These products for the most part have done there job but I must confess that for Halloween this year Jake and Meg insisted that I go as Telly from Sesame Street. If you do not have children and do not know how I might pass as Telly I will describe him. He is a fuzzy monster, with hairs on top of his head that are in a constant refusal to obey the laws of gravity. They simply just stand straight up on his furry head and kind of float about. That is about what I look like these days. On my Christmas wish list to Santa this year am hoping for a subscription to Rogaine for Women, hair plugs or a nice wig. I’m not partial, Santa can choose.

I would just like to look normal again. On some days I have to resort to drastic measures and sweep my hair across my forehead. On those days for some reason Meg and Jake would rather walk to school than have me drive them. Oh well, I must endure this until my “Baby Bangs” grow out. I just hope that with our next baby I don’t go completely bald. Time will tell.