Jack has a friend named Cougar Estrada. Cougar is such an insanely cool name that we thought about using it for the baby but we were talked out of it, just as we were talked out of Pablo, Nipsy, Mookie, Henry, Homer, and Milton.

I always thought that Cougar was just his given name, but then, last night, I read the liner notes for Cougar’s new CD, Canciones (Songs) for Delia. It turns out that Ruben “Cougar” Estrada Jr. was born three weeks early on January 15, 1970 in his parents’ driveway in the back seat of a 1967 Mercury Cougar.

The CD is full of romantic Latin dancehall stuff and Cougar is one of the most creative, intuitive drummer/percussionists I’ve ever seen. He was on tour with the Latin Playboys last year, and Los Super Seven.

If you buy a copy, $1 goes to the American Cancer Society because his mom, Delia, died of breast cancer.

I’m thinking of stealing a domain name right out from under the noses of the selfish, unimaginative looosers who own fussy.com, .net, and .org. Other options (courtesy of Register.com): fussybiscuits, fussycookies, crosscookies, and grumpybiscuits.

This morning’s breakfast revelation: They’re not just Cheerios, they’re little overbaked plain doughnuts. Mmm, doughnuts.

Things Jackson learned yesterday

1. Do not push a drawer shut while gripping with your fingers over the top of the drawer.

2. Do not put one hand on the toilet seat and use the other hand to slam the toilet seat lid down.

Things Jackson learned this morning

1. The bathroom floor is slippery after daddy takes a shower.

2. The bathroom floor is hard, but you can break your fall by hitting your chin on the edge of the tub first.

3. Oatmeal is good.

For six months after you give birth, your hair falls out. Nobody warned me about this, I just slowly watched in horror as my hair thinned and my shower drain clogged up. During pregnancy your body goes through an incredible surge of growth; your fingernails need cutting constantly, your hair looks fabulous, your skin glows, etc. Then, after you give birth, your body goes through a long resting phase and things slow way down; hence the alopecia. However, precisely six months after Jackson was born, my hair stopped falling out and the shower stopped looking like the wolf-woman’s dressing room. I didn’t really think about it anymore, until the other day when I lifted the hair from my forehead to brush it and I noticed an inch-long fringe of bangs underneath.

One of my favorite blogs is Anil Dash’s shrdlu winograd maclisp teletype. For me, it strikes a good balance of thought-provoking essays and smartass fun. After reviewing someone else’s web log for the Peer-to-Peer Review Project, I started wondering why I’m keeping a web log at all. Because if you read enough of the wrong kind of blog, you just want to throw up your hands and yell I don’t give a shit, motherfucker! Grow up! Wake up! Lighten up!

Which is probably what dozens of people have thought about this blog, too, I’m sure. *sigh*

Maybe it’s time for a poem.

The Immortals

None of us have felt good this year:

pus around the eyes,

sores that come and go with no explanation.

But we still believe we will come through it!

I signal this news

by lifting a little finger.

James Tate, 1972

No, just taupe alert.

Whoopee! I’m a genius! Too bad I have no emotional intelligence or pride, my colors are all wrong, and somehow I’ve become rickets.

(links via unproductivity, fluffy battle kitten, and other places I can’t remember.)

Everyone knew it was National Poetry Month except for me. Everyone! Especially smart people like George and Hi Monkey! So to make up for my stunning lack of awareness of our national call to read more words that aren’t in regular sentences and paragraphs, I proudly submit one of the first poems I ever memorized. It’s by Langston Hughes, who was born 100 years ago.

Motto

I play it cool

And dig all jive

That’s the reason

I stay alive

My motto

As I live and learn

Is:

Dig And Be Dug

In Return.

I’m so happy! I asked for captions, and I got captions!

(via BiggerHand)