Kirk blAug

In conversations about generational shifts, I often encounter the viewpoint that children today are living in a world made 'too easy' by technology. This sentiment puzzles me, as it seems to miss the underlying aim that has propelled generations forward: the desire to provide a better life for our offspring. The advent of technology and the ease it brings to our children's lives should be celebrated, not lamented. It's a reflection of progress, of the strides we've made as a society to ease the burdens we once bore. When I playfully tell Jupiter, "You kids these days are so lucky," it's with a genuine appreciation for the advancements that allow him to enjoy a soundtrack to his school day—a small luxury that could have transformed my own educational experience. Labeling the current generation as 'lazy' because of their technological advantages is a misinterpretation of their reality. Today's children, growing up in a digital world, are equi

Years ago, a young Jupiter stumbled upon a film on Netflix that would mark the beginning of a fascinating journey for us: "Rubber," a Quentin Dupieux creation featuring a sentient tire with a penchant for destruction. This discovery, made when Jupiter was around seven, has since become a cherished cornerstone of our cinematic explorations. Dupieux's films are masterclasses in the absurd, weaving narratives that are as engaging as they are outlandish. Each movie crafts a universe where the surreal becomes the norm, yet never loses its internal logic. "Rubber" was just the beginning, a gateway into Dupieux's peculiar world where the mundane morphs into the extraordinary. "Deerskin," the latest addition to our Dupieux repertoire, continues this tradition. The film's protagonist, obsessed with his deerskin jacket to the point of wanting exclusive ownership of any jacket in the world, mirrors the bizarre yet captivating premises we've come to ex

Today unfolded with an unexpected adventure as the boys and I, along with Goat, decided to explore the Flannel and Fire event at the Kirkwood Farmers Market. Unfamiliar with the annual celebration until now, we were intrigued by what this community gathering had to offer. The event was a charming mix of vendors, games, samples, live music, and contests, all themed around the cozy comfort of flannel. The highlight for us was the contest for the best-dressed humans and dogs, a perfect opportunity to showcase Goat in one of my flannel shirts. It was a lighthearted moment that added to the day's enjoyment. Despite its bustling atmosphere, Flannel and Fire maintained a low-key charm, distinguishing itself from the larger festival-style events in the area. It was this community vibe that resonated with us the most, offering a sense of belonging and shared enjoyment among attendees. A standout culinary delight was the chili mac from Honey Bee, a dish that perfectly complemented the event&

Today, as I pause to reflect on the many facets of life that inspire gratitude, my thoughts naturally gravitate towards the animals who share our home and daily experiences. Each one, from LT the parakeet to Goat the dog, Tommy the cat, and our trio of chickens, enriches our lives in their own special way. LT, with his avian charm and melodic chirps, brings a sense of lightness and music to our household. His aerial dances and the gentle rustle of his feathers are daily reminders of the freedom and beauty found in nature. Goat, loyal and affectionate, is more than a pet; he's a steadfast companion. His eagerness for walks and playful spirit infuse our days with activity and unconditional love. There's a comfort in his presence, a reminder of the uncomplicated joys life has to offer. Tommy the cat slinks about with feline grace, his curious eyes always observing, always calculating. He’s brought a new dynamic to our home, his independence a stark contrast to Goat's sociabili

Tonight as the evening was already in full swing, I set out with Tsunami and our dog, Goat, for a walk. This daily ritual has become more than just exercise; it's a chance for us to connect and share our days. Tsunami's been on a health kick, and I'm helping to encourage him. Reminding him to be active and joining him on walks are simple ways I can show my support. But these walks are more than just checking a box. They're filled with laughter, conversation, and a deep sense of connection that transcends words. I'm grateful for these shared moments, where we fulfill individual needs - his for physical activity, mine for emotional connection - while creating something beautiful together. It's a reminder that sometimes, the simplest things hold the most meaning.