A Birth and a Rebirth

July 22, 2012

I have decided to mark the occasion of the birth of my son to also mark the rebirth of this blog*.  There are a couple of reasons for this, but this biggest one came from sheer boredom.  Let me explain.  I decided to read my old postings on my phone while Harrison was feeding, and I was laughing uncontrollably.  It’s not that I’m particularly funny, but my daughter was when she was three.  It’s been more than a year and a half since anything has been posted (and in all likelihood read) that I had forgotten these stories.  I’m sad to think how many other delightful stories in the past 1.5 years will be forgotten because I neglected to write them down in my diary.

*I’ve seen this blog before on other blogs, and you probably have too.  The I’m-back-blogging! post.  I cannot think of a time when that post wasn’t the very last post.  So I am posting this with the realization that it, too, might be the very last thing you read from here.  That being said, I’m am cautiously optimistic that won’t be the case here for a handful of reasons.  First, I haven’t blogged recently because I had lost the habit due to a lack of time/energy/stories, etc.  But I have a month off of work now to take care of my son.  Which brings us to Second, my time is surely going to be filled with stories relating to raising him the presence of his VERY excited five-year-old sister.  Third, I apparently have 9 subscribers still.  I’m dying to know who.  (I’ve got my fingers crossed that Andy is one of them.)

So, to the faithful readers, here is all I am promising.  (1) This might be the last post ever.  (2) If not, then I will be telling stories about my family.  (3) I will update what I’ve read and what I am reading.  More for my sake than anything else.




A Conversation with the Boudra’s

October 1, 2010

Scene: The Boudra Family bathroom Thursday morning while Maren is getting Sophie ready for school and Regan is getting ready for work.

REGAN (while inspecting his specimen in the mirror): Maren, I don’t know how you can — on a day-to-day basis — keep your hands off of me.

MAREN: Sophie, tell your daddy he’s silly.

SOPHIE: Daddy, you’re silly.

REGAN: Sophie, tell your mommy that your daddy is handsome.

SOPHIE: Noooooooo…she already knows that!


Sophie Loses Her First Drinking Game

August 10, 2010

Most people who went to college know how drinking games end, right?  You know how one loses a drinking game.

The story begins Sunday at lunch.  Most of you know Maren and I have some guests, namely my sister, brother-in-law, and their two boys aged 7 and 5.  While we’re enjoying a family lunch at home, I hear the sound of a drink being spilled over at the kids’ table.  I turn to see who spilled the drink and I see the drink is spilling from Sophie’s mouth.  Projectile-ly.  All over the 7 year old who challenged her to the drinking contest.  So Maren cleans up Sophie and I clean up the mess.  I suspect a pattern.


Sophie’s Epiphany

June 28, 2010




In the beginning…A comment on LOST

March 30, 2010

Phyllis Tickle has said the end of a good story is informed by how it begins.  So as we consider how the mythology of LOST comes to an end, I want you to consider how all mythologies begin.

Pick a mythology.  Any mythology.  Maybe this one.  Or this one (read especially the second paragraph).  Even this one.  And many others.  In the beginning, there was Chaos.  Water.  The Seas.  The Deep.  The Unknown.  The first job of creation is to conquer primordial chaos and darkness.  To bring order and light.  Land is firm and can be worked and provides nutrition for our plants and animals (read safety and security).  Think Mother Earth.  Terra Firma.  On the other hand, the sea is the opposite of all these things.  Men at sea were subject to its tempestuous nature, the unpredictability of storms and calm.  The sea was chaos.

These are motifs that the writers of LOST are certainly aware of and have used.   Our first season experience wasn’t easy on the characters, but there was society and hope.  We saw in “The Other 48 Days” our tailies had a much different experience.  They lived in fear, uncertain of when The Others may attack again.  Now think back to how our first season characters landed on the island versus how the tail section characters landed in the sea.  I promise you it is no coincidence.

It’s clear that the story LOST is telling in some respects does not begin with the first season events.  (FYI: This is a storytelling device called in medias res, used most notably in The Odyssey, a work referenced many times on LOST.)  Our story starts in the middle of things and as we progress we get a better look at the beginning as well as the end.  So our characters that seem to begin this story are Jacob and He-Who-Has-Not-Been-Given-A-Name.  We call him many things.  The Smoke Monster.  The Man in Black.  Fake Locke.  FLocke.  UnLocke.  Smokey.  Even Cerberus by some diehards out there.  But this show has intentionally gone out of its way to not name him and alludes to this in Season 4.  Ben says, “We don’t have a name for it, but I believe you call it the Monster.”

There are some who believed Jacob is going to be the bad guy and Smokey will be vindicated.  Personally, I can’t believe anyone could still think that after the revelations in “Ab Aeterno.”  A few points that point me to take things at face value:

1.  Jacob is dressed in light.  Man in Black is named appropriately.

2.  Man in Black’s lair is a dark cave.  Jacob directs Hurley and Jack to a light house.

3.  Speaking of, Candidates (as in candid, honest, open) are listed in both the cave and the lighthouse.  In the lighthouse, they ordered sequentially.  In the cave, they are scrawled haphazardly, chaotically along the roof.

If there is a question as to who is honest and who deceives, think to end of “Ab Aeterno” when the two are having a conversation.  Why can we not take things literally then?  Between the two of them, who is there to deceive?

In the same scene, we revisit Jacob’s metaphor for the island.  It corks evil.  The shapeless wine is bound inside the flask, but when the flask is broken (without removing the cork) it is free to spread and saturate the earth.  What bothers me now is why is the island under Water in the premiere?  Does Chaos win?  Why is this show titled LOST?

P.S.  For those wondering who Smokey is, I am postulating we will never be given a name for him.  His backstory is a lie.  He is Chaos.  He is the Deceiver.  He is Death.


8 Days

January 25, 2010

Since I haven’t felt compelled to blog much lately (obviously), I thought the least I could do is give my faithful readers (hello?) a countdown to the Lost Season 6 (The Final Season) 3 Hour Premiere Event happening Tuesday, February 2.  I’m a little excited.

While I have your attention, I just stumbled upon what is bound to be the most hilarious blog.  I’m giving you the link to a blog that gives the link to the blog.  Confused?  Just click on the link and read.

Cheers, friends.


“I USED to read your blog.”

December 31, 2009

Thanks Andy for reminding me that it’s been a few days since I last blogged.

Seeing as it’s the end of December as well as the end of 2009, I thought I would give a quick recap of some of this months highlights.

I finished my first semester as a faculty member at San Jac in glorious* fashion.
*By glorious, I obviously mean I had a finals week crisis.  One of my finals disappeared on me the morning of that final (16 out of 29 questions, at least.)  So I had to borrow someone else’s final.  That was less than ideal, but I made it work.

I celebrated by 30th birthday this year.  That was fantastic.

Maren and I put up our Christmas tree, and I convinced her to add green ornaments this year.  They looked great.

We celebrated our 9th anniversary this year.  Holy.  Crap.

Sophie enjoyed her first REAL Christmas, full of anticipation, cookies, and presents.  Santa’s biggest present was a slide/swing/fort combo in the backyard.  Sophie really enjoyed that reveal, but I think Maren and I enjoyed it more.

Sophie and I got to see my family in Arkansas for the first time in a good while, and it was a good trip.

Maren and I have already popped open the bottle of champagne and will be celebrating the new year in our pajamas.

I want to wrap up 2009 with my favorite Sophie story that most of you have heard, but I want to write down for posterity’s sake.

A few weeks ago, I am putting Sophie to bed.  We’ve been through our bedtime routine — bath, hiding under the towel, getting our pajamas on, chasing, reading some books, maybe some rocking, etc.  Anyway, everything is headed to Sophie laying down and being quiet, which she fights in conniving ways.

Regan:  Good night, Sophia.
Sophia, whispering:  (I love you, Daddy.)
Regan:  I love you, too.  Goodnight.
Sophia:  (Daddy, we’re best pals.)
Regan:  Yes.  It’s time to lay down and be quiet.
Sophia:  (Crap.)

I don’t know where she learned that.  Good night all, or more likely Happy New Year.