January 22nd - 0-0

Day care sucks. The industry's a racket, behind only insurance and realty in its level of Satanic-like qualities.

Wednesday, Sam's day care teacher decided that because he apparently had some diarrhea and was playing with his ears that we weren't allowed to bring him on Thursday without a doctor's note. Again, we weren't allowed, despite the fact that we have to pay for that day. Never mind that we told them his ear doctor said his tubes are falling out, and that's why he was probably playing with his ears. Never mind that another teacher told us a kid hit his ear earlier in the day. Rather, because one ineffectual college dropout decided Sam's not fit for class, we had a choice: I waste an entire vacation day watching him at home, or I waste half a day and $20 taking him to his doctor so they can write a note saying what we already know; that he's fine, that it's his tube, and the day care teacher's a moron. I opted for the latter, and that's exactly what the resulting note said...minus the bit about the teacher being a moron.

Aside from being a ripoff, it's also insulting, as if we, Sam's parents, know less about or are less concerned about his health than are his day care teachers. Because of this, whenever my kids come home from school and complain that their teacher's an idiot, I'll be likely to side with my kids.

Awesome dream last night, though. Very random, so I can't recall all of it, but it started with me leaving Macworld Expo with my younger brother, Brett, who was asking if I was sad because it's over. I suggested not anymore than any other event that ends. Next thing, we're boarding an airplane, and I see our tickets aren't with each other. Mine is seat 111, his is something like 219. I'm upset, but then I see it's because I've been bumped up to first class. This is a gigantic plane with two floors, and the upper portion, first class, is as large as a movie theater. I ask the pilot why I'm in first class, and he says he occasionally likes to pick a coach flyer at random and bump him up. He then asks if I recognize the guy sitting in front of me. I say "No," so the pilot points to the guys golf shoes. Golf shoes on an airplane. I say, okay, so he's a professional golfer, but I still don't recognize him, of course.

Anyway, the plane takes off, I start the Lord's Prayer, which is what I always do when taking flights, and we land before I'm done. We landed at the same airport, only now it's Newark. The pilot asks if everyone would like to see the old terminal, and everyone excitedly gets off. I'm thinking this is very strange, but I do it, too. It looks basically like any terminal, except old (maybe like a school built in the 50s), huge, and a lot of it is on wheels; entire walls can be moved to replace the items for sale on them.

I suddenly realize I've been separated from the rest of my flight, and start to panic that I won't get back to the plane in time. I end up in a cafeteria where I'm waiting for some food, when a black guy comes in and makes fun of my hair, which causes a couple of high school girls to start laughing. I brush the comment off with a joke, because I really don't care, and then I start running to get back to my gate again, but realize I have no idea where it is. An announcement comes over the speaker: "Would passenger Kirk Hiner please check his messages?" I find this strange, but there's a text message on there from someone telling me the interview went well.

?

When I finally get back to what I think is my gate (my brother's there, anyway, along with one my Appletell writers), a group of Chinese businessmen sit me down and start talking to me. One guy's really close to my face, and I can't understand a word he's saying (he's speaking Mandarin or Cantonese), but I get that he wants me to look at his iPhone products. Suddenly, though, I'm in a hotel room (although it looks more like my childhood bedroom) with my brother-in-law, who points out that there was a problem with our plane, hence the emergency landing, and we're cancelled until tomorrow. I take a rose from my teeth and throw it in the trash, and we both laugh. Then I wake up.

Incomplete pass, on a confusing, confusing play.

Hiner's Ball: 2nd and 10 on my own 27.