NameVoyager Analysis: Jesus (Special Easter Edition)

I remember the first time I saw the name "Jesus" attached to someone who wasn't in the New Testament:


All right, so it's part of a surname. But still, it struck my young self as quite odd that someone would have any name-similarity to Jesus, Himself.

According to the NameVoyager site, which quotes A World of Baby Names by Teresa Norman, "Unlike most Christians, who decline to use the name Jesus out of respect, Christians in the Spanish-speaking world commonly bestow it to bring the bearer under the special protection of the son of God."

The fact that the name is usually pronounced HAY-soos probably makes the name sound less jarring, though I'm sure that's the exact pronunciation used by the Spanish-speaking when they're referring to the Lord.

Based on the rise in popularity of Jesus (the name) since the 1960s (rank: 227),through the 1970s (rank: 145) and 1980s (rank: 106), to its peak ranking of 67 in 2003, one can assume that either people got more religion, or there's been a population increase of those for whom Jesus is a more common first name. I'm going with the latter.

It's a curious comparison of perspectives regarding the kind of respect Jesus-the-name receives. Though the Spanish-speaking world as described by Norman considers naming a child Jesus a sign of respect, very few non-Spanish Americans would ever consider the name. Even the Duggars, the baby-making machines, gave each of their nearly two dozen kids J-names, would sooner move onto the K's.

The name, as a name, isn't really controversial, since it was a common form of Joshua back in the (biblical) day.

But a name like God Shammgod, that's another story. Read more...

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At Least I'm Capable of Enjoying Smell-O-Vision

Movieline is offering helpful ways to learn whether it's worth taking the kids to see the 3D version of How to Train Your Dragon. If I were going alone, I wouldn't be wasting my time, since I have a lazy eye that I sometimes have trouble keeping in check.

I took Jackson to see the 3D sneak preview of Ice Age 3, which somehow was supposed to be his Father's Day gift to me (don't bother trying to figure that one out), and I was impressed by the newfangled glasses they hand out: no blue-and-red paper shades here.

(The technology existed for several years, I assume, but this had been the first time I ponied up the extra bread to see a 3D version of a movie.)

My bad eyes have always been
an annoyance. Sometimes people don't think I'm looking at them when I'm talking to them, which causes me to avoid eye contact altogether, even though that brings up other assumptions of antisocial behavior. (On job interviews I concentrate to make good eye contact without coming off as a psycho.)

I had to do therapy in sixth grade, most of which consisted of at-home sessions where I placed a half-blue/half-red sheet of cellophane over the TV while wearing those old glasses and trying to make the picture visible. Sure, TV as therapy is pretty cool, but after a while it just got annoying and frustrating to watch a purple version of The A-Team.

The newer 3D technology didn't seem to penalize me when my eyes weren't properly aligned, beyond whatever harmful effects the actual 3d-ish-ness is doing to our peepers. Jackson, for his part, had no interest in wearing the glasses at all, even though a naked-eye viewing of the film was a headache-inducing shade of blurry. A few times I admonished him to put on the damn glasses (as did several parents, mostly dads, to their own kids), but finally I just gave up.

On a somewhat related note, one day the school nurse called to claim that Jackson was colorblind. "Just thought you should know: Jackson took a test, he's colorblind, and there's nothing that can be done about it."

I hung up the phone and relayed the message to Jenn, who yelled at me for not asking any questions then phoned the nurse for more information. Turns out Jackson failed one part of those exams where a number or letter is embedded in a mosaic of colored circles — known as the Ishihara color test — which meant he was colorblind. Everyone we talked to (note: none of these people are eye professionals) thought that diagnosis was hogwash, and for about a week each person would test Jackson by holding up different items and asking, "What color is this? What color is this?"

Jackson passed every unofficial test with flying, well, colors. Which leads us to suspect he was probably screwing around or not paying enough attention. We'll have him tested by our pediatrician, just in case, but I'm looking forward to the day when the nurse calls to tell me he's deaf. Read more...

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Monday Morning Video Welcome: Alvin and the Chipmunks Sing "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot"

Good morning! What, you didn't know your favorite high-pitched singing rodent trio performed classic Negro spirituals?

Well, they did. I came across this by accident, and the tune is now stuck in my head. As a service to Inside Voice readers, I'm going to lodge this tune in your heads, as well.

You're welcome. As for the background behind this clip, it's from The Alvin Show, which ran for a single year (1961-1962). I'd like to think that the show it ended because Simon and Theodore complained about not getting any billing at all, and a compromise was made to lump them as "The Chipmunks."

Kind of weird, don't you think? I mean, Alvin is a chipmunk, too. It'd be like me starting a trio and naming it "Anthony and the Humans." But I digress.

These days, as far as I know, you'd probably get some, well, confused looks if you just started humming "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" on a crowded train, but back before the Civil Rights era was in full swing, I guess it wasn't a big deal. On the contrary, when I looked at the Wikipedia page for the song, I learned that it's apparently been covered several times in recent years, including UB40, who recorded it as the theme for England's 2003 rugby team, and on last year's debut by She & Him, a duo that's unofficially known, incidentally, as "Zooey [Deschanel] & Him."

I think the main reason most of us (or, possibly, just me) might be uncomfortable with the song is because our first connection with the tune was during this famous/notorious scene from Revenge of the Nerds:

Read more...

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And Most Rappers Named "Lil" Something Aren't for "Lil" Listeners

"There is absolutely no reason to subject yourself to so much as a single note of 'children's music.'" Thus blogged Cliff Doerksen of the Chicago Reader, who notes that your kids are just as likely to embrace some of your favorite tunes just as easily as the G-rated dreck.

Though our iPods probably have very little in common — his has Ben Folds and Randy Newman — I agree with the guy, particularly when he says not to force-feed your kids music to make them "cool."

Granted, both Jackson and Sasha enjoy "Party in the USA," which is so catchy I hate myself every time I sing along to hit, and they still like stuff from their daycare classes like "Bop Till You Drop," but they have their own eclectic tastes. I mentioned not too long ago how Jackson really enjoys Weezer's "Troublemaker," and for a long time while he was 3, we had the old (Bon Scott-era) AC/DC song "Rocker" on virtual loop. When Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs began using Journey's "Any Way You Want It" in the trailer (despite it not appearing in the movie itself), that song went into heavy rotation.

Doerksen mentions the awkwardness that ensued when his kid announced how much she liked the Ben Folds song "Bastard" while at a crowded Trader Joe's, and my problem is that my iPod is full of R-rated (or worse) rap. I accidentally started playing part of the Miley-Biggie mashup (see the video above), and now Jackson wants to hear "'Party in the USA' that the man sings." Read more...

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Monday Morning Video Welcome: Fat Cat, or The Rhyming Song

Or, like one of the greatest things ever to appear on Sesame Street.

This is another of those bits that everyone (of a certain age) remembers. I was always fascinated by the Muppets that had no actual eyeballs, only glasses or sunglasses (Dr. Bunsen Honeydew was a later example), and the cheap sunglasses Henson used match each guy's personality, from the nerdier, Bert-sounding fellow in the middle to the cool, Kermit-sounding dude on the right.

The crazy-haired guy who disrupts the scene is Bip Bippadotta, who has appeared in a number of forms (including the "Mah Na Mah Na," and who looks like a hybrid of the later Dr. Teeth and Animal, though I don't think Bip ever played an instrument.

My favorite part is around 1:37, when the three guys are trying to block out Bip, and you can see that the muppeteer clenched his fist, resulting in one of the best Muppet facial expressions:

This sums up how I feel several times a day.

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Now That's What I Call "Laying the Pipefish"!

In case you're looking forward to the technology that allows men to become pregnant, consider the pipefish: the males carry the eggs. But the males also (sometimes) let the eggs die. Considering most guys forget to take out the garbage or put their worn clothes in the hamper, it's not surprising.

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At Least Mallomars Will Soon Be Out of Season

In the latest issue of L.A. Youth, written by teens who are much tougher than I ever was, an 18-year-old writes about his struggle with weight and the difficulties finding healthy foods in his neighborhood. (The neighborhood is South Central LA's Watts.)

The author is 5-foot-4 and weighed 180 pounds, so he wanted to lose 30 this year, quite a goal. So far, the kid's dropped 10 pounds, mostly by changing his diet, which isn't easy because his mother usually cooks a traditional, high-fat meal — "typical Hispanic food," he calls it.

Jackson is really skinny, and Sasha's losing what's left of her baby fat, but I understand the struggle of trying to find healthy food. Even though it's easier to find healthy options in sunny suburbia than in Watts, I understand where the author is coming from when he notes that "it’s cheaper to buy the crappy food."

For Lent this year I gave up dessert, which I've loosely defined as cookies, candy, chocolate, ice cream, and soda. I ate a smidgen of the Rice Krispies Treats that I whipped up over the weekend, though I'm unsure if that really counts.

It hasn't been easy, despite my occasional gorging on other, less bad-for-you food. Just out of habit, I'm used to grabbing some sort of snack after dinner, then another one later on. We give the kids a little snack before bedtime, usually a couple of Oreos. Sasha likes her Oreos opened and I usually eat the cream-less cookie that she ignores. In the fridge there's often a tub of premium ice cream (i.e., the pricier good stuff that we don't share with the kids) that I'll graze from throughout the day over the weekend. Or I'll just grab a handful of whatever's lurking in the cupboard.

As difficult as my sweets-fast has been, however, I expect things to be more difficult after Easter. I plan to eat goodies again but in moderation, and I think it's been easier to Just Say No than it will be to Just Say One Spoon Of Cherry Garcia And Not The Whole Container You Fat Pig.


Read more...

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My Son Would Like a Play Date With This Lad — Inside the Machine

Jackson loves getting his hair cut. Loves it. How come, you might ask, does a 5½-year-old loves getting his hair cut? Well, dear reader, I'll tell you why my 5½-year-old loves getting his hair cut.

The haircut place has one of those candy-vending machines with the giant claw, and he scavenges for quarters before we leave the house. Jackson is mesmerized by the thing, and it helps that it lets you play until you win something, even if a "win" means an old Jolly Rancher candy.

I have to take away any of those, as well as the other small, hard candies, but Jackson doesn't mind, because he usually wins a Tootsie Roll and a lollipop and some cheap hollow plastic penguin.

In Australia, some 2-year-old took the machine obsession and bit too far, and actually slithered up the machine and got himself stuck. I'm sure if Jackson learned about this, he'd find a way to do the same.

Once again, I am confounded by the use of English by our friends across the pond, as the story was captioned in the Daily Mail:


A blacksmith? Is that what they call locksmiths in England? Or were they going to send all the king's horses to break out the poor kid? Read more...

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Monday Morning Video Welcome: Take a Breath!

This is one of those Sesame Street bits that I probably last watched in 1977 or so, but I've remembered it forever. And for years and years and years I've annoyed Jenn by sneaking up on her and saying, "Take a BWEATH!"

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The Eyes (Might) Have It

Is your kid driving you crazy? Have his eyes checked, says the New York Times' Motherlode blog.

In an extremely long article, which I'm guessing will be in this week's Sunday magazine, Judith Warner writes about the services of a "behavioral optometrist" and the site VisionandLearning.org, which offers vision therapy for eye problems that supposedly cause a range of symptoms that are often diagnosed as ADHD or dyslexia, among other things.

Not surprisingly, plenty of people are skeptical that some eye exercises will cure your kid's anxiety and learning disabilities, including a pediatric ophthamologist quoted in the article: "It has no validity."

The comments on the article — some from people who have tried the therapy — are mixed, and the treatment can run into the thousands.

I had therapy for my lazy eye back in sixth grade, and still suffer with strabismus, but I don't think my eye problems had any major effect on my development. But with Jackson's occasional struggles sitting still and listening to the teacher right away, I'd probably give it a shot — a consultation, at least.
Read more...

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Who Lives in an Over-Licensed Mechandising Environment Under the Sea?

Sponge! Bob! Square! Pants! That's who.

To the surprise of no one, 82 percent of the "food" (note the quotes) directed at kids with a movie/tv/toy tie-in are considered unhealthy by Yale’s Rudd Center for Food Policy and Obesity.

As BNET notes: "Marketing to kids is lucrative — why would anyone give that up if they didn’t have to? As any mom knows, all you need to do is slap Tony the Tiger or Hannah Montana on a package of chips and kids want it. It’s a fight to get out the grocery store alive."

I'd like to punch Tony the Tiger in the face. Those "WE ARE TIGER" commercials have Jackson thinking that the key to sports success is downing a bowl of sugar-coated corn flakes. It would help if he had his cereal with milk, but the idea is as radical to him as adding peanut butter to his spaghetti.

There was a time when I was going to avoid all crap foods for the kids, but that, like many other good intentions, has gone out the window.

I can't count how many boxes of fruit snacks, which lack any fruit whatsoever, Jackson's begged us to buy. When I was I kid, the only fruit snacks available were the mostly real deal, the sticky grainy circle of strained grapes or apricots or raspberries that you had to peel off a sheet of cellophane and took quite a lot of effort to chew.

Today's pseudo-fruits are these rubbery, oddly colored turds vaguely shaped like Spider-Man, or Batman, or SpongeBob. They taste like shit, and thankfully, Jackson agrees. Yet he continues to insist on trying every different box, in the hopes that he'll find a variety he'll like.

The kids are also big fans of Gogurt, which is a kind of sugary yogurt that you suck out of a tube. The SpongeBob version is quite popular in my house, particularly the Bikini Bottom Berry flavor.

Bikini Bottom Berry. I'm a fan of SpongeBob SquarePants, and I've seen probably every episode multiple times, but I cannot recall any reference to Bikini Bottom Berries, either the planting or the harvesting or a special episode where SpongeBob and Patrick run out of pectin while trying to jar Bikini Bottom Berries for the winter. Yet Bikini Bottom Berry is my kids' favorite flavor. They ask for it, even if I had the misfortune of buying the generic, no-tie-in box of Gogurt and the same blue Gogurt is called just "Berry" or whatever the hell they call it.

"Is it Bikini Bottom Berry?" the kids will ask. I can't wait for the pediatrician or a teacher to ask the kids what their favorite fruit is, and they say, "Bikini Bottom Berry."

Maybe I'll try to serve them some Bikini Bottom Brussels Sprouts this week. Read more...

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NameVoyager Analysis: Michelle and Jessica

You likely know a Michelle. Maybe you are a Michelle. Michelle came out of nowhere, peaked in the 1970s (which is why you probably knew several of them if you were born during that decade), and then it dropped off. Could its popularity have come from Paul McCartney crooning about his belle? Possibly. If so, Beatles fans have become scarce, as the name has dropped to the ranking of 103 in 2008.

There are several celebrities named Michelle, but it's definitely not a name that celebs name their own kids. And I don't think either of my kids knows a Michelle, except for one in Sasha's daycare class — and that's her teacher.

If you grew up with a few Michelles in your class, you likely also knew a couple of Jessicas.


Jessica follows the same trajectory, albeit a decade ahead of Michelle. Jessica did what Michelle could not, however, hitting #1 in both the 1980s and 1990s, before dropping to #18 in 2003.

Both Michelle and Jessica serve as middle names that form an unhyphenated compound name, as in the case of the two well-known Sarahs, Sarah Jessica Parker (who, I've read, insists on being called "Sarah Jessica" and not just "Sarah," thank you very much) and Sarah Michelle Gellar. I wonder "Michelle Jessica" or "Jessica Michelle" ever took off.

I can't say I'm surprised that Jessica was more popular. That double-s ssounds
sso ssexy. (Though I'm sure parents-to-be aren't considering the sexiness factor when they name their kids.) After all, Roger Rabbit's wife was Jessica Rabbit, not Michelle Rabbit.
Read more...

Sins of the Grandfather

Alas, poor Issur Danielovitch — or as you're probably better known, Kirk Douglas. You're 93, you've living your remaining moments with the effects of a debilitating stroke, and Burt Lancaster's been dead since 1996.

Now, in the latest issue of Vanity Fair, as your son, Michael, describes the incarceration of your grandson, Cameron, you have to wonder whether you're partially to blame.

Sure, your own old man was a bastard, but you didn't exactly strive to be Dad of the Year yourself, which possibly took a toll on your own kids. Your son Eric died of a drug overdose in 2004, after years trying to make it as an actor himself.

Michael's had plenty of success, but still he felt, early in his career, that he had a lot to live up to, and had his own troubles with drugs and alcohol. Now, of course, Michael's doing fine, with a couple of young kids from his latest glamorous Oscar-winning wife who's around half his age.

Having those two young kids probably helped him forget about his adult child, Cameron, who never seemed to get it together. Sure, Michael tried to help him in the Hollywood way, just as you did for both your sons. Three generations got together in It Runs in the Family, a movie no one saw, which didn't really matter to you or Michael other than as another bullet on an IMDB or Wikipedia list of credits. But for Cameron, who ironically (or portentously) found himself cast as an aimless stoner, it was supposed to be his big break, or at least some kind of break.

(The movie also starred, as one of Cameron's brothers, one of Macauley Culkin's brothers, and one must wonder what those two talked about between takes.)

So the movie came and went, and a few years later Cameron starred in one of the crappy direct-to-DVD National Lampoon movies. Not too many years after that, he was sentenced to jail. By the time of his earliest release, if you're still around, you'll be 103.

Michael's disappointed, of course, but in Vanity Fair he sounds like he's enjoying his do-over family with Catherine Zeta-Jones. Sure, he feels bad about being an absent father during his son's formative years, but now he's got these two new kids to raise, and that hot wife to bang, and those two new movies to promote.

But you've probably got time to think, Kirk. What are you thinking now? Read more...

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• Looking to raise some funds for your local house of God? Why not invite perpetually-behind-bars rapper DMX to put on a "gospel extravaganza," like this high school did?

And "Corn Pops" Doesn't Count as "Corn"

During the time of BC (before children), we assumed that we would feed our kids only healthy food (and they wouldn't watch too much TV, but that's another story).

Alas, realty struck very soon after the kids arrived, and they're both well-seasoned snackers. They do eat healthy meals (most of the time), and neither of them is remotely obese — actually, Jackson is really skinny.

So I empathize with the report that claims kids are sucking down more crap than ever.

The main thing the kids snack on daily is a trio of Oreos shortly before bedtime. Sasha insists on me opening the Oreos, and she' only licks off the frosting. But they'll still raid the pretzel-rod jar or claim to be "hungry" shortly after being so "full" from dinner.

Jackson's biggest vice, though we don't indulge it that often, is Gatorade. I'm not sure how he even first drank the stuff (probably when he was sick and dehydrated and it was suggested for the electrolytes), but I still consider sports drinks something you consume while, well, playing sports. Yet if we're in a store that has a beverage section, whether it's CVS or Target or a supermarket, Jackson begs for a bottle of Gatorade.

He also loves Frosted Flakes, mainly because he's been conned by those annoying "WE ARE TIGER!" commercials that makes kids think that eating a bowl of sugared corn flakes will empower them to kick a soccer ball over Mount Rainier.

When I was a kid, the sweetest cereal we usually were allowed to eat was Kix, and the only time I'd ever seen Oreos was when I was at a friend's house, the same place I was able to see an Atari 2600.

At least the kids currently have no interest in soda. As far back as I can remember and to this day, I crave soda. Read more...

Also in the news...

• Dr. Seuss just celebrated a posthumous birthday, so Asylum dug up the best Seussian-inspired tats it could find.


• Every kid dreams of being a pilot. But how many aviator wannabes get to actually direct the big birds to take off and land? This little guy did from the air-traffic control tower at JFK Airport, and now someone over there's in deep doodie.


• Pour me a Scotch and Similac on the rocks, Burt: Do babies belong in bars?


• PRODUCT ALERT: Decorate your home with some real eye candy: Jellio.com features limited-edition gummi-bear chandelier. Personally, I'm holding out for the Sour Patch Kids armoire and Hershey Kiss bidet.


• CELEBRITY ALERT: Why oh why couldn't someone have Tasered Jermaine?! Police looking into stun-gun incident involving MJ"s kids at Jackson family compound.


• And this is why you don't rub wires against lithium-ion batteries: Student's iPod explodes in class.

Also in the news...

• CELEBRITY ALERT: Real housewives of the maternity ward: Bethenny Frankel is craving OJ—and split pea soup!


• PRODUCT ALERT: Leap year fail: PlayStation 3's malfunction after labeling March 1 as February 29.


• They're hard at work on an indentured-servant app: Child labor used to make iPhones, iPods, Mac computers.


• A healthy breakfast for the kiddies of oatmeal, OJ, and yogurt? Not so fast: Ten kids' staples that will earn them an appearance on The Biggest Loser before they're 20.


• Why shouldn't they be just like me? Three snacks a day show shift in kids moving toward "constant eating."

Books I Hate to Read to My Kids: Ten Little Monkeys

One of the books Jackson insisted on reading tonight was this board-book version of "Ten Little Monkeys." I would have preferred that he picked the Five Little Monkeys book, which is, well, about half as long.

That he read the book to me was a bit of a pleasure — Jackson is a good reader, after all — but it's still an exercise in repetitive torture no matter who's piloting the book. I think the story is fun for the under-2 set, but having to endure it with a 5-year-old is like having to eat baby food again.

The other problem with turning the rhyme into a book is the actual illustration of the sequence of events. I mean, look at that cover. Jackson merely rolled off our bed while he was sleeping and that turned into an ambulance ride and a morning at the hospital (he turned out OK, but very sore), so I don't exactly enjoy seeing pictures of a bed-bouncing brood.

In the book, after each monkey-child falls off the bed, we get to see that monkey-child bandaged up due to possibly brain-damaging head injuries. And we get to see the poor mother, likely a single mom, get constantly berated by the pediatrician. Where is the father? Why hasn't Child Services been called in? And why do I find myself caring so much?

Also in the news...

• CELEBRITY ALERT: This is what happens when you claim you've made out with your TV sister: Brady Bunch siblings Eve Plumb and Maureen McCormick feuding, cancel TV reunion appearance.


• Slow death by rubber duckie: Environmental activists find BPA in, well, everything.


• Just give the kid a pack of Crayolas and let him go to town: Affluent parents hiring "handwriting therapists" to remedy their children's scrawl.


• Diamond-shaped hot dogs? Pediatricians call for redesign of foods that pose choking hazards.


• WTF, MOM! Kids for cockatoo: Woman trades in two children for exotic bird. And they weren't even her kids!

Monday Morning Video Welcome: Whales, and How They Relate to Parenting

There's "no publicity is bad publicity," and then there's truly bad publicity.

I'm sure the authors of this parenting guide, who are all connected to SeaWorld, could never have imagined the tragic whale-based fatality that occurred at the Orlando facility.

Not to make light of the tragedy, but I've often felt as if I've been thrashed around a deep pool by my temperamental children.

According to its Wikipedia page the murderous whale, Tilikum, "is known primarily for two things: being involved in three deaths and for siring many whales."

That's quite a legacy.

Anyhoo, let's direct our attention to some better whale-based parenting:

Because I'm a whale of a dad!

Also in the news...

• Romanian phenom sets new strength record: 5-year-old does 20 air pushups. If you don't know what an air pushup is, check out the YouTube video above.


• And this. is why. I don't drink. Colt 45: Drunk mom goes on rampage through school brandishing a sword.


• Middle-school Match.com: Parents at Indiana school outraged by opposite-sex fundraising survey.


• Leaving the most precious gem behind: Couple robs jewelry store, ditches 4-year-old.


• This is your brain on crack; this is your waterlogged brain after being forced to drink 15 cups of water: Students endure "torture" during school-administered drug test.