Welcome to Abu Halen.

If you listen real heard, you can actually hear the good times roll. Or at least limp. Maybe crawl.

Intrepid

This picture of Amman's beautiful King Hussein mosque is contraband. I played the role of the intrepid photographer to bring it to you. No need to thank me, just grab those tweezers over there and remove this bullet from my kneecap, would you? Seriously, I was surprised they wouldn't permit photos. I figured it must be for security reasons, but then when the guard pointed out that it was fine for me to use my cell phone to take photos or even video, I kind of started questioning things. So I didn't feel too bad driving around to the back of the structure, setting up my tripod at the base of a dark flight of stairs, and covertly snapping some photos. It's kind of blurry -- it's because the wind from the bullets whizzing by shook the tripod.

This photo is from the front of the mosque. I took it without looking, kind of like a behind-the-back pass, except without the basketball. Or the behind-the-back thing. Okay, okay. I was looking. Leave me alone.




I have cute kids too. Grace is almost a year old. That means it's time for her to freaking start dressing herself and looking for a job to earn her keep around here. But she's pretty cute, so maybe I'll let her slide for another year or 15.


Savannah starts school in two weeks. I'm practicing my over-protective father moves by punching holes in the walls. If some little boy tries to chase Savannah around the playground for a kiss, we'll invite him over and I'll show him the holes in the walls and then tell him that could be his face if he keeps chasing my daughter. My point is made, and no harm done.


Halen's just cool.


Except when he's hugging blonde chicks, then he's just plain cute.

Alas

The Catamaran Incident