"Four fried chickens... and a Coke."

My son turned seven on Wednesday. Some of you may remember that I was baffled and found myself caught more than a little off-guard. I'm okay now.

Tomorrow is Jack's birthday party. He and four of his buddies are going to run around our house screaming and shooting each other with Nerf guns. That's pretty much a normal day here, except that from 3 to 5 o'clock tomorrow afternoon I'll have four extra targets.

So, tonight I have to do a little preparation for the party. Nothing major, just write up a few clues for a scavenger hunt. Betsy is going to partake in the biblioscrapicus with some of her yammering gal pals and I'll have very little to do tonight. I find myself faced with a pretty pathetic, very American problem: I must choose a movie to watch.

Here's the list from which I shall choose:

So, I Married an Axe Murderer


The Jerk


something with Batman in it








The Blues Brothers ("I hate Illinois Nazis.")


Due Date


Flight of the Conchords (season one, of course)


Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark


Watchmen


V for Vendetta


or a bunch of episodes of Top Gear


While writing this post I did the following: I put all three kids to bed, read two chapters of Danny, the Champion of the World (my favorite), spent thirty-two minutes on the phone with my mother-in-law discussing children's books, and put one little girl back to bed (she fell out... I thought someone ran into the front of our house with a moped), and I no longer have time to watch ANYthing.

Thank you,
      Matt Beers

We'll have a lot in common until they grow up.

It's snowing. I know, I know... It's only March and snow is perfectly acceptable in March. But all of the January and February snow had just melted and it was starting to get sunny and everyone was just getting happy again.

What does one do when confronted with a seasonal depression that refuses to go away? One cleans one's dwelling. Or, if you're a guy, which I am, you clean your garage. Or, you start to and then end up doing something else. I'll explain.

You may remember a particular post in which I mounted all of my Nerf guns on pegboard in my garage. You can check it out by clicking this series of seven ampersands &&&&&&&. That post, for reasons unknown, is my all-time most popular post. And the fact that I have just linked to it can only increase its popularity. It's a self-replicating... thingy. I don't know the word for it and it isn't really the point I'm trying to make so I won't bother Googling it.

I look back at that post and I can't help but feel... shame. Yes, shame. I look at those seven plastic yellow and gray toy guns placed so carefully on display and I'm overcome with embarrassment. I'm a grown man (I have documentation to prove it) and here, for the world to see, is my childish pride, mounted on pressed sawdust. What must my wife think? How can my children stand the ridicule?

Seven Nerf guns.

I can do WAY better than that. How about twelve?

I feel much better about myself and my children aren't ashamed to be seen with me in public anymore. And my wife, well, let's just say... nothing. She would hurt me in ways that don't get better.

And speaking of my children, I'd like to show them off a bit.

First is Jack. He turns seven at the end of the month. He loves to read and play video games and has a crazy-active imagination. He's also quite the artist and I hope, with dollar signs in my eyes, that he'll become a successful comic book artist some day.

Macy, 3 1/2, is our second oldest. She enjoys chatting and playing house and reading and bothering her siblings. She's super-sweet sometimes and is just starting to develop her own interests and is learning to be manipulative. Someday she'll marry a billionaire and convince him to spend his entire fortune on shoes.

Our youngest is Zoe. She's eighteen months old and has just discovered that everything exists for her benefit. She's hilarious. She's talks all the time and loves to run around and get into everything. She loves books and music and my iPod. I can see her being crazy cat-lady after her first two husbands die mysteriously. If you'll turn your attention to the picture below you'll see that she's trying to sneak up on her toes to make sure they aren't planning a coup.

So, those are my kids. My plan is to die penniless so they won't have to fight over my estate. I'm a very thoughtful father.

Thank you,
      Matt Beers

No more wet socks!

Annnnnd... we're clear! Alright, my February break is over and now I need to get back to business.

******

How I Spent My February Break by Matt Beers

During February I took a break. I did lots of cool things. I watched a lot of Battlestar Galactica on Netflix. I played Angry Birds on my iPod.

That's pretty much it.

The end.

******

I've been really feeling the season. The end of winter is always so depressing. Everything is gray and slushy. You can't go outside for anything without getting the bottom of your pant legs wet and then you come inside, take off your shoes and your pants get your socks wet. That pretty much sums up how I feel about February. Wet socks.

But it's over now. February is out of our lives for another year and here we are in March, which is pretty much just as bad as February, but I'm looking outside right now and the sun is shining and all the snow has melted and it's hard not to feel upbeat about it all.

******

I've noticed something interesting. I've got Facebook friends living in Alaska. They LOVE the snow. They frickin' better, they're pretty much buried under it for 11.9 months out of the year. I also have Facebook friends living in Florida. One of them was complaining today about the birds. Not really sure why. So what I noticed is this: If you give somebody crap, they have no option but to get excited when you give them extra. When you give somebody sunshine and fluffy, puffy cupcake trees and you pave the streets with Nutella (a new love of mine) they get all crabby because there were birds in the parking lot. There's a lesson to be scraped off of that. Feel free to do so.

******

My son turns seven at the end of the month. We're having a Nerf party for him (my wife's idea, not mine). I'm not as super-excited as one might expect me to be. I'm not really sure why. Maybe it's because my son is getting past the stage where he wants me around when he has friends over. Most likely I'm just worried about all of his weird little friends handling my Nerf guns.

******

Anyway, welcome back.

      Matt Beers

Nerf Review! (Warning:If you already think I'm a dork, don't read this post.)

I have discovered something that may change the way I view Nerf guns forever. I will begin with a statistical breakdown and five-star review(the stars look like this: *****) of the guns I own. Those that have been modified will be rated pre- and post-modification.

N-Strike Switch Shot
* (pre-mod rating)
**** (post-mod rating)
Price: $25/with Wii game (clearance)

N-Strike Nite-Finder
** (pre-mod rating)
**** (post-mod rating)
Price: $5 (on sale), $9 (I own two)

N-Strike Recon
*** (pre-mod rating)
***(post-mod rating... the mod only added about three feet to my firing range)
Price: $25

N-Strike Maverick
** (if it didn't jam so frequently, I'd give it an extra star)
Price: $10

N-Strike Deploy
**
Price: $20

N-Strike Raider
****
Price $35

N-Strike Stampede
****
Price: $50

Now, those of you keeping track will note that I have spent nearly $180 on Nerf guns (I did not include those air-powered dart guns made by other, less quality-conscious companies, otherwise I'd be pushing $200). Some of these guns were unsatisfactory, so I was forced to open them up, remove and rearrange their guts, and put them back together.

A couple of weeks ago I was tinkering in my garage trying to build my own dart gun from PVC pipes and extra bits of things that I keep on hand for whenever I'm feeling inventive. I was testing a length of pipe to see just how feasible it was as a barrel. I stuck a dart into the end of the barrel and puffed hard on one end. The result was such a forceful expulsion of the suction dart that I was left speechless for several seconds. All I could do was run inside to show my wife, who didn't care. My little 30-inch pipe is far more accurate and far more powerful than any of my other, far more expensive dart-guns.

To all of you skeptics I say this: "Try it, sucka'!"

I've also discovered that by wrapping the shaft of the darts with Scotch tape, you get less friction down the chamber, as well as added rigidity, which means better accuracy. That is all.

Thank you,
      Matt Beers

I'm bustin' a recap, foo'!

A lot has been going on lately so I'm not even going to make an excuse for not posting. You should be used to it by now.

I'll start things off light, then I'll get very heavy very abruptly after which I'll switch to promising and hopeful. Try and keep up.


The gazebo is gone. We had some seriously high winds a few days ago and one of the aluminum beams just sort of snapped in the middle. I dismantled the pathetic thing and dragged it into the garage where I spent two days torturing it with a hammer, a hacksaw, and, occasionally, my hands and feet. It won't be missed.

Betsy lost an uncle recently. I won't say more because I wouldn't want anyone to think I was making light of the situation. I will mention, however, that Betsy will be flying to Oklahoma for four days while I stay home with our three kids. Forts will be built. Movies will be watched. Bedtimes will be ignored. (Note: I don't often give financial advice, but it wouldn't be a bad idea to buy stock in a bunch of junk food manufacturers. But make sure you sell before Monday evening.)

Betsy and I have been praying about this for a good bit and we both feel very strongly that we're being lead to adopt a child. We aren't sure yet where this child will come from, but we are very, VERY excited. We've decided to wait a couple of years. We would like Zoe to be able to understand what exactly is going on and in her current state (being an infant) she might not quite get it.

And, just so you know that I haven't been wasting my time lately, I offer this pearl:


This behemoth is the Nerf Stampede. It runs on 6 D batteries, but it has also been known to operate on pure balls. (It should be noted that my children are far more obedient than they were two weeks ago.)

Thank you,
      Matt Beers

This just went from "blog" to "blahg."

I'm sorry for not posting anything for a few days. I've been swamped with all sorts of stuff. Camping, mosquitoes, backyard Nerf wars, writing for Ferocious Quarterly, being a husband and father...

It's pretty time-consuming being me. It literally takes me all day.

I'll do better. I promise.

Thanks,
Matt Beers

... or a serious expression in the middle of July...

This is what I did today:


That's right. I took all of my tools off of the pegboard in the garage and have replaced them with Nerf guns. What I have done is so far off the scale of "acceptable behavior for an adult human male" that I'm doing the sensible thing and telling everyone I can. I joke about it being very dorky, but, as I have posted it on Facebook and on this blog as well, I think it's pretty evident that I consider myself the utmost in man-child cool.

As I'm cleaning my closet, I may as well admit to some other childish behaviors. I enjoy Legos. I think Memory is a very difficult game and I get genuinely excited when I do well. I have similar feelings about Candy Land and Chutes and Ladders. Roadrunner cartoons have not yet stopped being hilarious. I love Lucky Charms. I get very frustrated with the federal reserve safes kids' toys are packaged in these days, not because they make my fingers hurt or because they keep me from doing other important grown-up things, but because I WANT THE EFFING TOY! NOW!

I overdo forts.

I overdo snowmen.

I overdo Hot Wheels tracks.

I read kids' books. Sometimes I read them to my kids.

Somehow I managed to find a woman who doesn't mind this kind of behavior... much. I guess I'm just a very lucky little boy.

Was that weird? That was weird. Sorry.

Thank you,
Matt Beers

(UPDATE: There's more Nerf-and-pegboard-y deliciousness HERE.)

Nerfin' ain't easy, but it's necessary.

Have you ever tried to clarify the truth for someone only to make matters much, much worse? I do this a lot, usually by talking. But when we were in Serbia, my friend Eric and I took it to a whole new level.

We had it in our heads that the world view of the typical American is of a gun-toting cowboy, gangster, or rapper. We decided with a very ill-advised firmness that we would dispel these myths. We would show the world that Americans are not savages armed to the teeth and desperate for blood.

We proceeded by explaining that not all Americans own guns. It's allowed, but it is not required. Eric explained that he did not own a gun and did not feel the need to own a gun. I explained that I, too, felt perfectly safe without any firearms tucked beneath my pillow. And then I may have mentioned that my neighbor feels differently. I may have mentioned that he has, not one gun, but many... a locker full... pistols and rifles and shotguns... and a flak-jacket... and some swords. Anyway, I waved this off as being rather excessive and that few Americans see the need for such an arsenal. But then I also mentioned that, while unnecessary, guns are a lot of fun. A LOT of fun. I didn't go detail-crazy, but I did mention that my neighbor had been gracious enough to take me out a few times to the firing range. And then I reiterated that it was fun.

And in an attempt to keep "fun" at the forefront of the conversation, we brought up Nerf guns, which Eric and I find both necessary AND fun. They apparently don't have Nerf guns in Serbia, so we explained to the small crowd of very confused Serbs just what Nerf guns are and why everyone needs ten of them.

This is the picture we painted: Nerf guns are brightly-colored plastic toys that use compressed air to launch foam darts, sometimes tipped with suction cups, sometimes not, at children and animals.

This, I imagine, is what THEY imagined:


When, in actuality, THIS is what we were trying to describe:


Eric is actually one of the pastors at our church and he used part of this story in a sermon last Sunday and he postulated that the Serbs with whom we had spoken went back to their friends and told them, "It's so much worse than we thought."

I didn't bother explaining the art of modifying your Nerf guns so they can shoot over your house. That might have gotten us deported.

Thank you,
Matt Beers

It's Nerf, or a cheaper, less satisfying foam dart gun.

I've been going a little overboard lately with the Nerf guns. I wasn't allowed to play with them when I was a kid and have thus far denied my own kids the pleasure, but my wife and I recently decided that it might be a good idea to let our son burn away some aggression by shooting stuff with foam darts.

A few months ago I bought a Wii game based on the Nerf concept. It came with a Nerf Switchshot EX-3, which I tucked away out of reach. It looks like this:
The air chamber (basically the entire top half of the gun) comes out and you can fit a Wii remote in its place. This makes shooting things in video games nearly impossible.

In order to turn shootin' time into bondin' time, I bought a second gun, the Nerf Nite Finder EX-3, basically the same as the one I already had, but with a little more power and a cool laser pointer. It looks like this:

I wasn't completely happy with my... our... nifty little blaster. So I went online to see if anything could be done to enhance it. I learned something interesting. Inside each and every Nerf gun is an irritating little bit of plastic called an air restrictor. What the air restrictor does, in the interest of safety... which is kind of ironic when you're talking about guns, but whatever... is to interrupt the air flow from the air chamber to the dart, thus giving the projectile significantly less oomph. The Nerf Nite Finder EX-3 will fire a foam dart between 15 and 20-odd feet out of the box. With the air restrictor removed, it will hit the clock hanging over the fireplace in my living-room when fired from near the toaster in my kitchen.

Well, today my wife found a coupon on line. A Nerf coupon. For $5 off a Nerf purchase of $25 or more. Now I have this:

This is the Nerf Recon CS-6. It has several very cool features. It has a laser sight which can be switched over to a flashlight. It has flip-up cross-hairs. It has a removable stock and removable barrel. It has a magazine which holds six rounds, just pump and fire... and then spend the next two to four minutes collecting your spent darts and reloading them.

I've looked into modifying the Recon, but the most promising tutorial involved a drill-press and a second tutorial "How to make a new air chamber if the above goes terribly wrong." I'll pass.

And just to see how cool Nerf can make you, check this out.



Thank you,
Matt Beers