So last Friday, we learned that we’re having a boy. That was neat, but you’ll agree that the ultrasound was kind of fuzzy, turtle notwithstanding. This week it gets even more interesting… We get to see what Joe the Baby/Barack/Tiger/Martin Luther Ching will look like. How? It’s all thanks to the engineers at Volkswagen, who build a composite rendering of your future kid (based on photos of mom and dad) in exchange for being subject to an advertisement for a minivan that no one can afford anymore.

I suppose there are worse things than outsourcing baby-making to Germans… We both like beer and brats, and we can tolerate shiny clothing and techno if need be. But it’s decidedly less fun than actual baby making.

Here are two versions… I think this warrants a caption contest…

earnest and mildly intense Joe

It’s hard to say what Joe is thinking here… Maybe something like, “Please God make this crazy man take down this blog before I learn to read.”

giant-lipped and mildly concerned Joe

Joe appears somewhat curious about the world, but mostly interested in pudding.

Commence caption contest… (hat tip to Howard for the link)

[Terms and Conditions: You may only read this post if you promise not to buy our kid pink or blue crap. Now then, the story continues below the fold...]

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Winnemucca to the Sea!

I recently came back from a work trip to Nevada. The map to the right shows the route I took – lots of great people, good history lessons about old mining towns, lots of random acts of generous hospitality (particular thanks to Midgene, Sarah and Devin, Sheila and Nathan, Tom and Margaret, Ken and Donna, Paul and Nancy), and caves!

There is also lots of road. Empty road.

While on the road from Las Vegas to Ely, I stopped in the only gas station in a tiny town (either Alamo or Ash Springs) to go to the bathroom. One of the unique features of every gas station bathroom in America is the condom dispenser. Does anybody actually buy condoms from the bathroom dispenser? Don’t answer that. Apparently, this bathroom specializes in patriotic prophylactics. Observe:

I think the best part is that this product is made in Korea.

While I’m exiting the restroom, I hear a sound that isn’t too comforting to a half Chinese kid in Eastern Nevada: gunshots. Thought #1: I don’t have an Obama sticker on my car. #2: Most white folks don’t know that I look Chinese, and I’m pretty sure I don’t look French. #3: I hope I didn’t steal any condoms.

Fortunately, someone was just shooting at a Coyote. I think he got away. Fortunately, the speed limit on Hwy. 93 is 70, so I got the hell out.

The stretch between Las Vegas and Ely is particularly desolate. There’s actually a stretch of U.S. Hwy. 50 that is officially called “The Loneliest Road.” One of the more lonely features of this region is the fact that radio signals aren’t too powerful. There was one radio program, however, that was coming in crystal clear: Dr. Laura.

Since I forgot the cord that would have connected my blackberry music player to the car stereo, I figured, what the hell? Dr. Laura is a pretty interesting cat. She basically runs a the third most popular radio show in America (after Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannity). Most of the conversations seemed to go something like this:

Woman 1: Hi, I’m my kid’s mom. I have a perfectly reasonable question about my kid’s behavior and how I should respond to it. I am asking you the question now.

Dr. Laura: Wait a minute… I will now spend the next two minutes ridiculing you for not knowing the answer to this perfectly legitimate question. Do you live on planet earth? Are you mental? Do you buy French condoms?

Woman 1: Um… I love your show, so I probably live on planet earth. Does that make me mental?

Dr. Laura: Your problem is simple. Your kid to stop letting your kid be such a dickass. It is YOUR FAULT that your kid is such a dickass.

Woman 1: Wow, you are so wise.

Dr. Laura: Yes. I shall now promote my book for the next six minutes.

I proceeded to but a cord connecting my blackberry to the car stereo in a town called Caliente. Ironically, it was kind of chilly there.

You should be well aware by now that chickens do many ridiculous things. Among them is an odd phenomenon called a “dust bath.” It’s counter-intuitive, but they roll around in dirt and then somehow they get cleaner. Seems like the idea of “intelligent design” kind of gets PWNED here.

Also, Megan and I just got a Mac and I’m practicing my editing skills in anticipation of baby Newell-Ching. Hopefully the kid doesn’t like dust baths.

Look, it has Matt's bottom!

CNN Nate Silver projects: October, 13 2009.  More details to follow…

Okay, so I’ve been slacking on schwag reporting the past two days. My bad. It is not for lack of awesome schwag. Just lack of wireless. Rest assured that daily schwag of awesomeness is retroactive.

Today’s Schwag of the Day comes to us from a vendor named Brian on the south side of U St. NW between 12^th and 13^th, right across the street from Ben’s Chili Bowl. I’ll let this picture speak for itself.

Barackondom? Obamacondom? Protectobama?

They were originally two bucks but I talked him down to three-for-five. Cheaper than a baby anyway. Brian gave us the hard sell (yeah, sick pun, I know) by convincing us that there are certain kinds of schwag that don’t appreciate in value over time, but an “Obamacondom” just might be worth something someday. He described how some original Reagan button sold for like a thousand bucks at auction a couple weeks ago. Actual quote from Brian: “I mean, this is something you can give your grandkids. It may be dried out, but it could be worth a lotta money.”

He actually said “dried out!”

Personally, I have little intention to give this to any future grandchild. Chances are pretty close to nil. Kind of a mixed message I’m thinking. And I’m not certain about it holding it’s value. I imagine a Bill Clinton condom would be worth quite a bit these days, though.