Friday, May 29, 2009


There's a new American Girl doll making its debut. More stuff to buy our princesses, should they be so inclined:

The pre-tween set is abuzz with the rumor that the newest American Girl doll is Jewish. Officials at the Wisconsin-based company confirm that she is, indeed, a Jewish character, calling her “a lively girl from New York City,” but have embargoed her name and most other story details until May 29th.

That being today, we can say that the girl's name will be...Rebecca Rubin.

The company, started by a Wisconsin woman in 1982 and bought by Mattel in 1998 is indeed part of the entertainment-industrial complex, but I’ve found the dolls a welcome relief from the Barbie doll universe, which is dominated by dolls in makeup, clothes and heels that look more appropriate for grown-up play in the old Times Square than they do play for little girls.

And so skinny, the shiksa goddess Barbie Dolls. Ach, they must eat like birds...

Monday, May 18, 2009


Oh, my. Much as I dig the daylights out of being a dad, I'd be full of beans if I told you I'd never, in one of the bleaker moments we all have, had a thought like this one:
"At some point in the last few decades, the American male sat down at the negotiating table with the American female and -- let us be frank -- got fleeced"

On the other hand, it's not so bad compared to the times this American male sat down at the bar with the American bartender and paid way too much for a pint and -- let us be frank -- got fleeced, by overtipping said bartender in the ridiculously mistaken belief that she thought he was cute. I much prefer the current state of affairs with Her Awesomeness, even though I may come in for the bit of unfair criticism in a stressed-out moment.

And I am going to try to resume a more regular posting regimen, but I have been laid out with a beast of a cold and allergies for nigh on three weeks. My apologies.

Monday, May 4, 2009


Noodle AND Beast:

Los Endos - Genesis.

They like it. They really like it! Noodle is big on the keyboard-guitar interplay (and we quote: "what's that violin sounding thing, Daddy?"), and Beast's there for the drums. Daddy is a happy prog-dork this morning.


Silly me, I thought that since Beast had turned three-and-a-half we had safely negotiated the era of Emergency Room Visits Thanks To Weird (Stuff) My Kid Did, but no.

Chopstick in the ear.

No eardrum puncture, no serious or lasting damage at all, just a bit of a scratch in the ear canal to keep an eye on while it heals up. It goes into the annals of Jones famililal greatness alongside yours truly's Great Raisins-Up-The-Nose Caper of '67. And the ER at Northern Dutchess Hospital gave us a 5% discount for dealing with our copay up front, which reminded me a little of George Carlin's old "Bud's Medical Center" bit (Bud's! Where all the sick people go!). But hey, a buck-seventy-five saved.

After posting this on Facebook, I heard from two friends who had both taken their kids to the ER in younger days to deal with...tiny doll shoes lodged in the nostrils. We must have missed that trend.