Broadbent's "Morphology", a la Kafka

At some point in their life, everybody looks like somebody. Hopefully, most people usually look like themselves. Mel sometimes thinks that I look like somebody. And on even more rare occasions, she thinks that I look like somebody else.
When I was in High School, I had a few people tell me I looked like Chris O'Donnell. Sometimes it was a compliment, sometimes it was not so much. Mostly depended on if it was a girl or a boy who said it, and which movie of his they had just seen (and what they thought about it).
Present-day-ish:

1995 (Robin):

1992 (Scent of a Woman):

Generally speaking, I was okay with that. There were a few others that I don't (at least presently) recall. One has, however stuck with me.
Harrison Ford (good!) in "What Lies Beneath" (unsettling) as he is climbing, bloody-faced, out of the tub (highly unfortunate). Only that part, for some reason, and not any of the other shots. Maybe I was dark and menacing just after I returned from my mission. Who can say.
Not bloody (not me?):

Bloody (me?):
[edited for content]

More recently, Mel seems to think that when I have missed a day or two of shaving, and I am almost due for a haircut, that I look like Hugh Jackman. Or, rather, Wolverine.
Him:

Me:

Him-Me:

Me-Him:


I think that I am going to have to say that while there is a resemblance, it is more that I look like his younger brother, "Flustered Badger" than anything. The good news is that "Flustered Badger" gets to wear moose pajama pants instead of jeans with an oversized belt buckle.


Mom recently decided I had started to resemble a lumberjack. Personally, I felt I resembled someone who had their driving forces for shaving removed, at least temporarily. She also happened to catch me on a day when I was wearing a beanie, so she also decided I looked like a "Northwesterner". She was, of course, glad to see that I am integrating so well in our place of habitation.
Here is me, as close as I get to lumberjack. I don't own an axe. I suppose I could have put on my hiking boots to assist the image. Or socks and sandals for the Nor'westerner look.


Since we are playing with photos of me, here is me looking GQ:


I am not sure what it means to look "Gentleman's Quarterly". I believe that I am usually a gentleman, and I am at least a quarter something. So I think that I qualify most all of the time. Maybe I should have taken a picture of my back and called it Gentleman's Hindquarterly, GH.

The best part of it all is that the scruffy face that spawned all these opinions of my appearance does not show up well, if at all, in photos. At least not these photos. So much for trying to document something, even in a flippant, half-hearted sort of way.

One last shot: my Birthday Suit! My parents, feeling they could improve on the original model, decided to get me a new suit for my birthday. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for the fine-looking, new suit. It looks great. The photo is a decent shot of the suit, and a horrid shot of me. However, the other options were bad shot of me and poor shots of the suit. All told, we look better, on average, in this unfortunate photo.

That was fun. Let's do it again!

Anya got tagged last year. By me, actually. I happened to go back and reread the post the other day (if you read it, there are 2 things I would like you to be aware of. 1 - the title is a bit convoluted (and misspelled); Anya was "it" since she was tagged, and Mr. King wrote a novel called "it" and it dealt with a scary clown, among other things, hence the title. I told you it was convoluted. 2 - the background was starkly different at the time of posting, so the questions are in orange and the answers in white. It actually ends up being kinda fun; you can read the question, guess at the answer, and then highlight the region where the answer is and it will "magically" appear. Or at least magically contrast). Long sidebars aside, I really enjoyed the post, so I undertook to recreate and horribly overdue it this year. I will be answering the same, or at least similar, questions about each member of our current family referencing this last year. The goal is that I will enjoy reading it when I happen across it next year. If you enjoy it along the way, well then coup-fourré (for my French-speaking and/or fencing aficionado friends, I realize this is not a strictly appropriate usage of the phrase, but it was introduced to me vis-a-vis Mille Bornes wherein I had no idea what it actually meant, but it was a happy stroke of luck where not only did I thwart my enemy, but I was able to get something good out of it, a happy happenstance - not too far off base from the true meaning, but completely alienated from true context and irrevocably orphaned, at least in my phraseology)! It is a pretty good sign that your parenthetical expressions are excessively long when you have to look back to see what manner of punctuation is required to finish the sentence; such is the case with the preceding sentence.

Without further preamble and ramble, my extra-large mini-quiz of my family members.

I make no claims that any of these statements are indeed factual, though they do reliably reflect my interpretation of reality.

What is the "cutest" thing you did recently?

Mel: threw an awesome b-day weekend for Chris, littered with surprises.

Leah: decided that all non-vital and some vital communications may be had in an imaginary language made up on the spot.

Anya: intoned "more Christmas lights!" the entire way home from Kent Station.

Ryan: almost laughed, 1 "ha yuk" ala goofy

Me: am I allowed to be cute? I did insist on being the one to wrap a certain gift I purchased for Leah.

What is the nicest thing you did for your mom/dad/spouse/sibling this week-ish?

Mel: good thing children is listed as an option - too much to list there. Otherwise, the 4th, 5th, and 6th come readily to mind.

Leah: allowed Anya to take turns having a story read by a grandparent over the phone.

Anya: actually went to bed peaceably one or two nights.

Ryan: after staying up a bit late waiting for Mom to get back from a party for meal time, slept all night to let her get some needed rest.

Me: slightly future tense, but prepare(d) a meal for Mel, of which no one else is likely to eat (certainly not Leah and I).

What was your favorite thing you did in the last month?

Mel: Disney on ice with Leah.

Leah: Disney on ice with Mom.

Anya: played with Annalynn all morning while everyone else was at a Primary Activity.

Ryan: found my hand!

Me: really enjoyed the pre-canned excuse to get up with the girls each morning and see them at the start of the day.

What was your greatest accomplishment in the last year?

Mel: birth is pretty extraordinary.

Leah: developed ability to empathize.

Anya: develop ability to speak semi-coherently.

Ryan: birth is pretty extraordinary.

Me: almost developed ability to empathize.

What is your favorite toy/leisure activity?

Mel: going out with friends, especially sans Ryan.

Leah: playing princess with friends. Elmo ad Kitty.

Anya: baby songs!

Ryan: chilling in the baby chair, watching the girls fight.

Me: volleyball.

What is your favorite animal?

Mel: not Lola.

Leah: Kitty and Elmo.

Anya: Lola and Crush

Ryan: -oblivious-

Me: can I have a puppy?

When do you like to go to bed?

Mel: 930-10 sometime.

Leah: 8-ish works ok. maybe 830. maybe 7.

Anya: never!

Ryan: frequently. At night, too late.

Me: 9 pm or 2 am.

When are you supposed to go to bed?

Mel: 10

Leah: 8

Anya: 8

Ryan: 830

Me: 9?

What is your favorite movie?

Mel: Sense and Sensibility.

Leah: Barbie and the ______. Currently 3 Musketeers.

Anya: Baby Songs! (not a movie)

Ryan: -oblivious-

Me: uncertain: Lion King; Monsters, Inc; Crouching Tiger; Matrix [edited].

What kind of music do you like [to dance to]?

Mel: Regina Spektor.

Leah: Natasha Beddingfield or ballet

Anya: techno/dance or ballet

Ryan: lullabies.

Me: whatever Leah and Anya are dancing to.

What is your favorite song?

Mel: the next to last song in the Nutcracker Suite.

Leah: You Belong with Me.

Anya: Down and Troubles, Edelweiss or Popcorn.

Ryan: dinner?

Me: Carol of the Bells (even when it isn't Christmas time).

When do you like to sing?

Mel: anytime.

Leah: evenings.

Anya: with everyone else.

Ryan: evenings.

Me: in private.

[may be appended as I think of other questions I want to know the answer to in a year]

Things that go bump in the night

Recently, Ryan and I were called upon to defend our more genteel young family members from a most horrid monster.

Do not let he cheerful and jolly appearance fool you. Much like the angler fish of the deep dark (think Finding Nemo), this monster's jolly appearance and "presents" or "toys" are clearly a ruse to attract unsuspecting toddlers and children. Fortunately, Mel and I have raised our young to be a little too wise for such cheap chicanery. They began screaming and wailing the instant they were enclosed in a large room with the monster. Even before we got there, Leah had started suspecting something was amiss. "Mommy," she queried, "Do I have to sit on Santa's lap?" "No, dear. You can just stand next to him." "Can you tell him I want a sweater for Christmas?" "Yes, Leah, I can." Good girl, Leah. Way to sniff out that ruse.

The camera angle is wrong, so you cannot see the terror on the girls faces, or the consternation on Santa's. Mel, here, is overjoyed at the survival instincts of the girls, not laughing at the futility of herding cats, I mean corralling panicky children.

Leah, balling, sobbing, weeping, wailing into her nightgown (it was a pajama party, as evidenced by my own attire, or maybe not so evidenced. I have worn that outfit to things other than pajama parties).

See the look of cunease on Anya's face? See the fear and trepidation evidenced in the way Leah dearly wants to hold onto Mommy, but is afraid of moving any body part any closer than absolutely necessary to the monster, and also afraid that Mom might hold her, bringing her within striking distance of the Santa? Mel, of course, is smiling beautifully for the camera. She looks lovely, even when herding cats, or scared kids, or performing some other impossible task. Me, I think it was a great show.

This is the end product. Anya can sense something looming over her shoulder, and Leah has put on her best brave face. Not bad, really. It is unfortunate we did not get any good shots of their faces in the initial stages.

Leah was so shook up, she refused to take the present from Santa (I believe Anya eventually took hers). The kids showed great resilience - as soon as they left Santa's lair, they instantly reverted to their previous levels of excitement and anticipation for the ward party. Leah wanted her present, and wasted no time in eating the fruit snacks and playing with the puzzle inside. No matter that it had come from Santa - it passed through Dad inspection, so it must be safe.

How hard do I really want to try to convince Leah that this fictional character is, indeed, real, and going to be sneaking into our house one night very soon? I am certainly not trying too hard this year. Maybe next year.... Maybe I should take the tack that the goodies left for Santa are actually left to ward him off, not unlike garlic over the door post. Equally tasty, and less offensive to those with whom I talk. What else is there that Leah and Anya might want to ward off, maybe with ice cream or fudge? What foul beast might be frightened of toffee or peanut brittle? It seems I will have to do a little research.