A Natural Deficiency Of Moral Fiber

So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Good Night

2007-01-29T09:16:00.000-06:00

After long days and nights of deep thought, I decided to move this forum. With over a week of blood, sweat and tears of time put into it and working my finger to the bone….

Ok, so just about all of the credit goes to Lynnster who, over the past week (and then some), has moved all of my junk over to Wordpress. It is great over there. Come say hello.

Guilty Pleasures

2007-01-26T10:58:00.000-06:00

Today is a very important day in history for me. The eastern coast of Florida will be all a-buzz with the celebration of my grandparent’s 50th wedding anniversary! Cheers of “I can’t believe they made it” will echo around the retirement community in which they live. No just kidding…I hope that they can get many more under their belts. Other major happenings on this date include the state of Tennessee being the first in the union to enact a prohibition law way back in 1838. (Guess who might be buying beer today?) Born today were actor Paul Newman (1925), legendary guitarist Eddie Van Halen (1957) and The Great One himself, hockey player Wayne Gretzky (1961). For you Alabama football fans out there, today is a day to drum up the past as former head coach Paul “Bear” Bryant died on this date back in 1984.

What are guilty pleasures? They are things that we really enjoy but are too embarrassed to let anyone know, right? “An example?” you ask. My buddy, Green Machine, well he likes to think that he is a manly man but his love for Justin Timberlake just wouldn’t sit too well with his pastor I bet.

I was lounging around on the sofa last night watching television with The School Girl when I realized that I have several guilty pleasures myself.

It occurred to me that I am a fan of the FOX television show, and soon to be canceled, The O.C.. More specifically I enjoy Adam Brody’s performance as Seth Cohen. His amusing quips and well placed humor tickles me to death…not to mention that the ladies are lovely, too. What other things do “hate to love” I thought to myself and this is what I came up with in no particular order:

Harry Potter: Jo Rowling grabbed me by my shirt collar and thrust me kicking and screaming into her magical world and I haven’t wavered since. I am currently waiting with baited breath (as they say) for the seventh and final episode in the life of the boy hero.

Holiday by Madonna: There has always been something fun and infectious (like Chlamydia?) about that song.

Kelly Ripa: I am normally one to loathe overly perky people but when I get to be home I always have to watch Live With Regis And Kelly…not to mention that Gelman (no he isn’t gay, not that there’s anything wrong with that) is a huge Will Hoge fan.

Gilmore Girls: Ok, again there is funny dialogue not to mention the obscure pop-culture references and the lovely ladies. Uncle Griz agrees with me!

”Weird Al” Yankovic: Maybe this stems from being a kid back when MTV used to show videos but hey, he is smart and funny.

Veggie Tales: Computer generated vegetables putting on skits based on the bible to help educate children while making goofy jokes…yeah, I’m all in!

Hall And Oates: “Why?” you ask…because “Rich Girl”, I may be “Out Of Touch” and you might be a “Maneater” with “Private Eyes” and I may have said in the past that “I Can’t Go For That” but I always want your “Kiss On My List”. (Oh yeah, that was cheesy!)

Kevin Costner movies: The emotions put forth in JFK and Dances With Wolves as well as the love of baseball in Bull Durham, Field Of Dreams and uhh well in For Love Of The Game are just great.

These are just a few of my guilty pleasures; my mind needs a little more ginkgo to coax the rest out of it. You may make fun but I bet your pleasures are worse. I can only hope.

The Biggest Of All Our Babies

2007-01-25T14:26:00.000-06:00

I felt left out with everyone posting random photographs, so…

Look At Me Read

2007-01-25T11:20:00.000-06:00

Today is Opposite Day. Obviously, this is a fictitious holiday but anything that was done in a Calvin and Hobbes comic must be of great importance.

I have been making up time this week by coming in a little early so that I can leave work early on Friday. The School Girl has another chiropractic appointment that day but I have to leave early from work to get her there before it closes at 6:00 PM. I realized that as of this morning’s commute I already had an hour made up which is more than I needed. I decided that I might hang out at the nearby Target or find a bookstore when I heard something piqued my interest.

Tom Griswold of The Bob & Tom Show was talking about bookstores and about the anality (is that a real word?) of people who shop there. A light bulb went off for me. I like to make the occasional shopping run to Wally-World or music stores but I never feel the need to be quiet. When I go into bookstores; however, people are ALWAYS speaking in hushed tones because others may be reading. I don’t tip-toe around people in the book section at Wal-Mart. I’m not whispering to my wife at the Dollar General. I don’t use hand signals when at the Kroger picking up more Fig Newtons (man, I love those things).

Etiquette says that we should be respectful of those people who are reading, like for example, in a library. What makes these shoppers (and I am one of them) think that we should have silence in an establishment that hawks hardbacks because you have decided to park your backside down on the floor and read something you have removed from the shelf. The more that I think about it all, aren’t you actually stealing if you are reading a book that you haven’t purchased? I mean, you don’t go into Food Lion and crack open a bag of Baked Lay’s (I love that SNL skit, Jarret’s Room, with Jimmy Fallon and Horatio Sanz when…) to see if I will like them, I just take a chance.

This brings up a bigger issue. Do we as readers feel a sense of superiority over our non-reading brethren? Do we think that since we are buying the latest Tom Clancy or Stephen King novel that we are better than the rest? Of course we do and we demand quiet when we show off our reading skills. This complex must be something that is learned as we get older. Children who have learned to read tend to be very proud of themselves (and they should) as they walk about with their Lemony Snicket or Little Golden Books reading aloud. They enjoy hearing themselves read and letting everyone else hear them, too.

Friday afternoon, if you are in the Brentwood area and you hear a grown man reading out loud from in the history section, come over and say “hello” and we can talk over the light Enya or John Tesh music about how amazingly skilled we are at reading and maybe point and laugh at all of the arrogant and silent people sitting cross-legged on the floor…right where I used to sit.

I Need To Pray…

2007-01-24T10:21:00.000-06:00

Sharon Tate…Warren Zevon…John Belushi…what do they have in common? They were all born today and they should all be celebrating birthdays but they won’t be. They are all gone, taken by something evil…Tate by Charles Manson, Zevon by cancer and Belushi by drugs.

Another person I know is celebrating a birthday today but I guess to me she is gone too.

I know it is wrong to wish ill will against another human being but I am someone who can hold a grudge. When I am crossed, you are dead to me. When you try to cause me harm, I wish harm back towards you. When you completely fuck with me and are evil for the simple fact that you can and you get pure enjoyment out of ruining another person’s life and messing with the mind of a beautiful little girl, then you should die.

So today for the 10th time I wished my pumpkin a happy birthday (in a voice message) and will forget everything that was taught to me in Sunday School and pray for a slow, painful death to the pure evil on earth that prevents people from having a happy life.

I could really use one of those cigarettes now. Today is not a good day.

Pampered Chef: The Return Of The King

2007-01-23T11:01:00.000-06:00

On this date back in 1984, Hulkamania is born when professional wrestler Hulk Hogan defeats The Iron Sheik to win the WWF World Heavyweight Championship. One year later, O.J. Simpson becomes the first Heisman Trophy winner (read murderer) to be elected to the Football Hall of Fame.

Birthday wishes go out today to MacGyver himself, Richard Dean Anderson (1950) and Cheap Trick singer Robin Zander (1952).

This past Saturday, The School Girl and I traveled up north to The Green Machine and Hoosier Girl’s house for yet another Pampered Chef party. Why in the world do we need this much crap? Well, as long as we use it I guess it is okay…right?

Things started off very badly as we got stuck in a traffic jam (on a Saturday? Come On!) on the bridge directly over the Cumberland River…you know, where it smells like dead people and rotten cat food? Yeah, right there.

When we finally arrived we were, of course, the final people to get there. Christopher Columbus I was not this fine day. The School Girl hurried into the house to participate in the party activities. A game of darts was already underway as I entered the garage (or man cave) and beers were tossed in my direction. Luckily it was well past the noon time hour.

G-Man is so enthralled with our conversation he can hardly keep his eyes open. We decided at this point we should make a convenience store run and buy some cigarettes just in case we decided to smoke (yeah, just in case).

SueBoo stepped out to inform the gentlemen (that’s us…no really that is referring to us) that some pasta had been created for our enjoyment. We trampled into the house and grabbed seats now that the demonstration part of the party was over and decided to get our grub on.

I am still not sure why my wife put this plastic thing on my head. To be honest, I don’t even know what it came from.

Big D brought his Guitar Hero video game over for us all to play. My first time out I smoked it like Jimi, hitting 91% of the notes. On a side note, The Green Machine choked it (like a chicken) averaging in the mid-60% range!

Green Machine was sporting an Indianapolis Colts jersey to annoy me. Apparently they give these things away at the bandwagon. They also come with tissues and diapers!

The entire Green Machine and G-Man family was in attendance (except for B2 – sniff, sniff). The Green Machine’s sister, Jess and her boyfriend sneer at all of the fun the rest of us are having.

G-Man does his gorilla impression. This is the fun that I previously mentioned. (You know it looks like fun!)

The School Girl seems overly excited. To slow this huge party down, we headed over to the local Mexican restaurant: Guadalajara.

We decided to sit in the smoking section (I wonder why?). There were no ashtrays to be had in the entire place. So to fix this problem they wrapped a salsa dish in aluminum foil…innovative!

Sweet Pea decided to “cheese” for the camera but just couldn’t get her chicken nugget chewed in time.

When we got back to the house, more games of darts were played.

The game began to get a little dangerous. After the flights and tips started falling off, problems arose. I may have accidentally broken Green Machine’s dart…one of the one’s he bought that morning!

So, I mentioned the other day that I might smoke or I might not smoke since alcohol was to be served. Well here is my hand holding the evidence…

When we left to head home I threw what was left into my glove box for another time and I haven’t even thought of them since. I think that I finally have made cigarettes my bitch!

It Gets Tiresome To Keep Chasing That Bandwagon

2007-01-22T10:45:00.000-06:00

To get it all started off today, people born today: singer Sam Cooke (1931), horror legend Linda Blair (1959), former INXS lead singer Michael Hutchence (1960) and rap artist DJ Jazzy Jeff (1965).

So it finally happened. The New England Patriots lost an AFC Championship game. The Indianapolis Colts and Peyton Manning have moved forward and will play the Chicago Bears in Super Bowl XLI. I am sure that it is nice to beat the team who you consider to be your rival and get what the media calls “the monkey” off of your back. The Patriots were able to do that back in 1986 when they beat the Miami Dolphins on their way to Super Bowl XX, ironically to play the same Chicago Bears. Considering that football is a team sport I can’t seem to think that Peyton Manning even had a monkey on his back. If he did; however, have a primate climbing upon him, I cannot help but think it is still clinging on tightly.

If you watched the game and were not pulling for the Colts you might have had a bit of excitement in the first half. Only once did I actually have any inkling that the Patriots would win the game. When the Pats returned the Peyton Manning pass for a touchdown I actually had a twinge of excitement. I remembered; however, that the Colts came back on us only a couple of years ago from a bigger deficit. The commentators were sure to remind everyone else sitting at home. I was not positive of a Colts victory until after their first drive in the second half. The Colts came back from halftime and scored a touchdown to put them behind by only two points. Generally in this situation, a team would kick the extra point and be down by one hoping to make it up later. The Colts gambled and went for a two point conversion and got it. I looked over at the School Girl and told her that the game was over. We would lose. The momentum had swung, our defense was gasping for air, they were cramping, they had the flu…they couldn’t compete. They never gave up even to the end but the better team won last night ultimately.

There are parallels with this year’s current Colts team with another team of old that had similar trials and tribulations…the 2004 Boston Red Sox. Both teams were many years without participating in their respective sports’ championship and have perennially been denied by who they consider to be their rival. In the baseball scenario, the New York Yankees prevented the Red Sox from achieving their goal as the Patriots have with the Colts.

In 2004, the Red Sox were able to beat the Yankees and move on to the World Series where they ultimately won, breaking an 86 year old drought. This year the Colts beat the Patriots but if they lose to the Bears, then what? There would still be no championship and they would still be carrying that monkey. The monkey is not Tom Brady and the Patriots. The monkey is Bob Irsay and his secret negotiations with the city of Indianapolis to move the then Baltimore Colts out of town under cover of darkness in Mayflower Transit trucks way back in 1984.

Maybe Peyton will overcome 24 years of adversity and win. He seems like a nice enough guy and I should root for him, right? He played at the University of Tennessee so that means I should root for him, right? Well, I won’t be rooting for Peyton or the Colts. It pains me to pull for the Bears but I have to do it. I don’t think I would be able to take all of the Colt band wagon fans sitting around patting themselves on the back (or whatever they do in that circle-jerk of theirs) until next season rolls around. When training camp starts they will pull that horseshoe off and put a Tennessee Titan logo on themselves…that is until the Titans get eliminated from the season or the playoffs and they stand in line for the fair weather of being an Indianapolis fan.

Smoke ‘Em If Ya Got ‘Em

2007-01-19T10:59:00.000-06:00

Today in Texas they (whoever “they” may be) are celebrating Confederate Heroes Day. This “holiday” celebrates Robert E. Lee’s birthday which is today (1807). Being a student of American history and a big fan of the Civil War, I have no problem honoring those Americans who were willing to give all to a cause that they felt was just (even if I disagree with it). They are celebrating a similar day in Arkansas; however, it is a bit disturbing to me. Confederate Memorial Day in the great state of Arkansas is a state holiday commemorating General Lee’s birthday while combining it with celebrations for Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s birthday. It kind of seems disrespectful to the memory of Dr. King, but that is just my little opinion.

On a happy note, I would like to extend my deepest wishes of joy to my friend and coworker, Mr. Minor and his wife, as they welcomed the newest edition of their family into the world yesterday. At a whopping 21 inches long, colleges may need to start getting their scholarship offers ready sooner rather than later. Congratulations!

They actually did it. With one game left before the All-Star break, the Nashville Predators have taken the top spot in the National Hockey League standings. If they can be victorious this Saturday at home against the Chicago Blackhawks, they will head into the break with the most points and most victories of any team in the league. Maybe hockey fans outside of Nashville will start giving them some respect. But I doubt it.

(Click To View)

Well, it is finally here. On Sunday evening the much talked about AFC Championship game between the New England Patriots and the Indianapolis Colts will be contested. In previous posts I have mentioned this very heated rivalry. I have talked smack here and recanted here. This week I am not going to tempt fate or karma or God Herself (obscure Kevin Smith reference) and will be happy to just enjoy the fact that my boys have done me proud and made another run towards a ring. I pledge to not gloat if we win or cry (too much) if we lose but I am sure that if we do win the Peyton Manning apologists will be spitting all over themselves about something.

One last item on the docket today concerns The Great Non-Smoking Experiment that has chugged along into day number 18! I am very proud of myself for not cheating and (making an attempt at) beating my addiction to nicotine (also, a shout to those who are running alongside the no smoking bandwagon – mom, pops and Kim D.). The problem will be tomorrow night. As you may or may not know my agreement/contract with The School Girl allows me to smoke when I drink in social situations. The crew is getting together tomorrow night and I will be allowed to smoke but should I do it? Should I leave well enough alone? I haven’t decided yet but pictures will be taken so you will have to be the judge. Smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em.

Snake And The Evil One Episode VI: Return Of The Nudie Bar

2007-01-18T09:49:00.000-06:00

Today marks day 1 of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity (actually lasting 8 days) which has been celebrated since 1908 in order for Christians to pray for church unity. We should definitely be praying for more than unity in the church these days.

A big day in sports integration as today way back in 1958, the Boston Bruins played Willie O’Ree thus breaking the color barrier in professional hockey.

Birthday wishes go out to actor Kevin Costner (1955), hockey hall of famer Mark Messier (1961) and current WWE World Heavyweight Champion, Dave (Batista) Bautista (1969).

A couple of days ago, The School Girl and I celebrated (not really, it went by with barely a mention) the third anniversary of the day that we moved to the country and into our house. Man did we hate living in Nashville! We moved from Madison to Marshall County and oddly enough they let us in even though neither one of us owned a gun rack. Go figure! Regardless, the move was a pain as The School Girl’s parents, her sister and husband (known as Randy Marsh in this forum) and their kids, The Teen Girl and Little Bro came over to assist.

We managed to pack up both of our cars, Randy Marsh’s truck and the in-law’s car and caravanned down I-65 the hour and half to the ‘Burg. I took Little Bro in my car with me since he was small (he was 7 years old at the time) and was the only one that would fit in my tightly packed vehicle.

As some of you may know, whenever you drive through Nash-Vegas, even on the interstate system, you are subjected to a wide array of adult themed establishments. Strip clubs, adult book stores and adult novelty stores are only a few of things that can be seen right from the interstate. Young minds will wander and out of sheer boredom will tend to read anything in sight.

It was late (approximately 8pm) and dark as we pushed onward through Music City USA as Little Bro’s eyes scanned the urban jungle stumbling across something that caught his eye and attentions. We were passing the gentleman’s club known as Déjà Vu, just off of Demonbruen Street in Nashville. “What is that place?” he questions me. I look up and begin to shake my head wondering what to tell the boy. He has not been privy to such an establishment in his young life and I wasn’t going to be the one to enlighten him. “Ask your mom” was all I could tell him. He fell asleep shortly thereafter. Thank God.

I had almost forgotten about that little blurb of life until yesterday when I spoke with La Hermana about my nephew, Snake. Snake, at (soon to be) 8 years old is a pretty smart guy, too smart sometimes but he is still a child which makes a lot of what he says so great (at least to me). Snake is a member of Tiger Cubs (a branch of Boy Scouting) and enjoys the many activities in which they participate. This past weekend La Hermana drove from the ‘Boro through Nashville to bring Snake to the Tennessean for a tour through the newspaper’s downtown facilities.

The ride from the ‘Boro to Nash-Vegas can be a lifetime to a young man of his age and, as previously mentioned, young minds (and eyes) will wander. This fine day they meandered past a large store that can be seen very well from the interstate system. Please note that Mr. Snake enjoys reading tremendously. Those of us who are avid readers are almost giddy when we find new places to peruse and buy books. Snake is no different; however, the book store he found that day was not one that stocks Harry Potter or Lemony Snicket books.

The World’s Largest Adult Book Store. This is the place he saw. “Momma look, a book store! It has movies, too…and it is open now. Let’s go!” Uhh, let’s not, dude.

Apparently the tour went well and the boys learned a lot about how newspapers are made. Learning can be so fun at that age. In order to get home quicker (and to avoid the book store, I bet), La Hermana took an alternate route…over by Demonbruen Street (remember what is over by Demonbruen Street?). The tag line on the club reads: “100s of beautiful women and 3 ugly ones”. “Momma, why are there ugly ones?” Uhh, no idea, dude.

Another example of the Snake’s keen eye came on a trip down to Bama to visit my mom (his Grammy). There is an adult club right on the border of Tennessee and Alabama that caught even my attention the first time. It is a place that one day I hope to visit just so that I can tell people I went there to see the girls with no teeth, racks that look like oranges in athletic socks and gunshot wound scars on their asses. The Boobie Bungalow. Yes, that is correct; it is called the Boobie Bungalow! I wish I could have seen the look on my sister’s face when Snake spit out the following line: “Do they mean ‘Boobie’ as in girl boobies?” Yes, Snake, they do…and there really is a Santa Claus.

“He doesn’t know a fore-check from a foreskin!”

2007-01-17T10:33:00.000-06:00

Yeah, I had the same reaction when he said it this morning…pure joy and giddiness. “Who is he?” you ask. I am speaking of former Tennessee Titan player, Frank Wycheck, of course. Frank is a member of The Wake Up Zone, the local morning sports talk show in Nashville on 104.5 The Zone with Mark Howard and Kevin Ingram.

What prompted such a slur? Well, it was directed at Tennessean (the local – only – newspaper in town) columnist David Climer. He was referring to how prior to the Nashville Predator hockey club starting up, Mr. Climer had no idea what hockey was all about. Climer can be interesting to listen to at times; however, his opinions regarding most sports related issues leave a lot to be desired. Just like Frank I used to read his columns in order to point out the glaring errors and moronic statements.

My biggest beef with David (as well as with a lot of Tennessee sports fans) is how he seems to stand in line to “go down” on Indianapolis Colts quarterback, Peyton Manning. The last time I checked, we lived in Nashville, home of the Tennessee Titans, not the Colts. People who know me will say I am just jealous since I am a New England Patriots fan but this has nothing to do with it at all. When I turn on the radio or open the paper or even surf the web I fully expect to see material related to local teams. Minus good coverage on the local hockey, I pretty much do; however, they are sure to toss in a piece on Mr. Manning.

Someone might argue that the story is relevant due to them still being in the playoffs. Then where are the columns on Bears quarterback Rex Grossman or Saints running back Deuce McCallister? Nowhere to be found. It seems a little funny to me.

Keeping with the sports theme but on a happier front…HOW ABOUT THEM PREDATORS?! Tonight, our boys are playing division rival and perennial powerhouse, the Detroit Red Wings. The prize at stake this fine day is (at least for one day anyway) is not only having the most victories in the NHL but the most points. Basically, that makes the Preds the best hockey team in the league! It would be a major step towards serious recognition throughout the league by players, coaches and fans alike. The only black marks at this point would be only getting one member of the team voted to the All-Star Game and the networks NOT putting them on television. I guess there is only one way to fix that problem…bring home the cup!

Joy Ride Gone Bad

2007-01-16T11:07:00.000-06:00

On an interesting note, I wrote about my father-in-law yesterday and dubbed him “Ivan The Terrible”. “Why is that interesting?” you may ask yourself. Well it is more ironic because on this date in 1547, the real Ivan the Terrible was crowned Tsar of Russia. Let us wish a happy Teacher’s Day to our Taiwanese educators today. Sad news in the world of racing today as former NASCAR champion Benny Parsons passed away earlier this morning from complications of lung cancer.

As I have mentioned earlier, The School Girl and her mom dove headfirst into refurbishing our kitchen this past weekend. The old wallpaper had to be removed. There were two layers to take off and it required a snot-like paste to release it from the walls. The walls had to be washed down. Sixty years worth of paint had to be scraped from the trim (yes, 60 years!). And on and on and on…ad nauseum. I was not in the mood to participate in this activity for the entire weekend as I had other chores to do myself to help promote regular household functionality. I found an opportunity to run away and head to the Lewisburg hub of commerce…Wal-Mart.

I had a pretty uneventful excursion in the store. I had my handy-dandy list to ensure that I did not forget the slightest item. My mind seems to be going off into left field lately, even with me taking a daily dose of Ginkgo Biloba! As I was leaving the store, I got behind a gentleman who, although older than I am, was not that old (50-ish). He did have a severe limp and was having a difficult time getting around. It looked like he was also taking care of a young child maybe less than 10 years of age. I slowed my roll so as not to make him feel rushed or as if I was crowding him when I was stunned silent.

At most larger shopping venues, mechanized riding shopping vehicles are provided for those customers who have difficulties with getting around the stores. The Lewisburg Wal-Mart is no exception. I have noticed many times over the years how younger (teenaged) patrons will ride on these Hover-round type vehicles thinking it to be amusing. This past Saturday, as I was leaving Wal-Mart a young lady had jumped on this vehicle to go for a joy ride and just so happened to be entering the store as myself and the slightly disabled gentleman in front of me were exiting.

The man, leaving with his small child, was exiting towards the left-hand side of the store which is exactly where the door with the “exit” sign is located. At this same instant, the childish young lady on the motorized shopping cart was entering on that same side. She proceeded to halt the cart, whereupon she glared at the limping man and exclaimed, “People walk through here like no one is coming in or something!” and scoffed audibly!

I was flabbergasted! The guy leaving the store turned to look at the young lady yet due to being a classy gentleman said nothing and ignored her. Normally, I would have said something to her; however, I was in such shock I just continued on following the example of the disabled man. Maybe he wouldn’t have wanted this situation to have attention called to it, or at least that is what I have been telling myself. I am so disappointed in myself for not saying anything to the disrespectful punk of a girl. I am more disappointed in the attitude and lack of caring of one youth of my small town which brings the overall opinion of all youth crashing to the ground. I guess I am a better person for letting it go but something makes me wish bad things upon bad people…so raise your glasses to hoping this young lady gets what is coming to her…a cheating boyfriend. Just kidding...or am I?

The Ballad Of Ivan The Terrible

2007-01-15T09:26:00.000-06:00

Happy Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. Other holidays celebrated today include John Chilembwe Day in Malawi (WTF?), Korean Alphabet Day in (you guessed it) North Korea (WTF?) and something called Pongal in Tamil Nadu (WT…NM). Whatever. Born this day in 1929 (of course) was civil rights activist and Nobel laureate, Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. and also on this day back in 1948, legendary rock and roller Ronnie Van Zant of Lynyrd Skynyrd fame.

First of all, words cannot express how pissy I am that I have to be at work today. I work for a crap-tastic bank that will remain nameless (SunTrust Bank, oops) that, as has been previously mentioned, is sending my current position overseas to India. All bank branches will be closed today; however, I do not work in a branch, I work at the customer service call center and they are always open. Blah! This has nothing to do with my story today but I just felt the need to share. Now I think my pressure is better. Whew!

As I am sure some of you already know (and now the rest of you do, too) I am a really big sports fanatic. I especially enjoy football (not soccer, for the non-Americans out there). The past two days just so happened to be one of the biggest weekends of professional football of the entire year. Next to the Super Bowl, maybe the biggest games of the season are contested. My father-in-law, Ivan The Terrible, a 20+ year Army retiree and Vietnam Veteran also happens to be a football nut.

The School Girl thought it would be great to refurbish the kitchen (again…did I say again? Yes, I did…again!) during this weekend. She obtained the services of her mom since to her (The School Girl) it was an extended weekend due to the MLK holiday. ITT (Ivan The Terrible) would be in tow and assist as needed.

My major plans for the weekend would include watching the football playoffs (and assisting with the renovation…and laundry). I have determined that since ITT never has a “dog in the hunt” he tends to root against the teams that I want to win. Please note that due to having grown up in Montana (Montana has no team), ITT has decided over the years to pull for the Minnesota Vikings and Denver Broncos. Both of these teams did not even make the playoffs this year. He also tends to be a huge fan of the teams who are playing the Dallas Cowboys, Tennessee Titans and New England Patriots (of which I am a born & bred fan).

Saturday Game 1: Indianapolis Colts at Baltimore Ravens.

I, being NOT a fan of Peyton Manning will ALWAYS root against the Colts (or until Peyton retires, leaves or dies). ITT, being a hater of Steve McNair was siding with the Colts. Aaarrggghhh! A boring game ensued as we had a field goal-fest. The score was 15-6 in the Colts favor and ITT giggled like a teenager. It was very frustrating to say the least.

Saturday Game 2: Philadelphia Eagles at New Orleans Saints.

Ok, I would usually pull for the team that hasn’t won in a long time (i.e. the Saints); however, my buddy Jace Of Ace is a huge Eagles fan an it is only fair to pull for Philly in a situation where my team is not directly affected. ITT, for no apparent reason (or for those reasons that I may have just mentioned), rooted for New Orleans and of course…they won. I think I noticed him do a little dance out of the corner of my eye. Not too shabby for a 71 year old guy!

Now it is Sunday. Sunday held the biggest stakes for me as Tom Brady and my New England Patriots were playing. Again, ITT has no team playing!

Sunday Game 1: Seattle Seahawks at Chicago Bears.

Ok, so I was sort of torn on this one. I always like the underdog (Seattle) to win but I was thinking ahead and hoping for a rematch of Super Bowl XX (1986) in order to exorcize my childhood demons of the Bears trouncing my beloved Patriots. Oddly enough, ITT was pulling for the Seahawks and were unable to be victorious as the Bears kicked an overtime field goal to win. I guess that makes the score ITT (2-1) and your hero (that’s me) as a pitiful (1-2).

Sunday Game 2: New England Patriots at San Diego Chargers.

Ok, this is the big one. The former championship franchise (New England) versus this season’s top dog (San Diego). No one thought that my Patriots could do it but by God the lights of Heaven were shining down on them last night as we pulled off the upset. The final gun to signal the end of the game stopped the (pretty close to annoying) sounds of laughter by ITT whenever the Chargers would do something well.

The final tally was (2-2) for each of us but ultimately, I won since my actual team is advancing into the playoffs and not just watching them on television.

Now this sets up next week’s big match up for my Patriots to travel to Indianapolis to face the big rival and Hoosier Girl favorite Colts. Last time that we played I talked big and we lost big. My only comment for the game next week is as follows: I am just happy to be here and if we are good enough and the ball bounces our way maybe we can go to our 4th Super Bowl in six years. (hehehe).

Get The Door? I Wish It Wasn’t Domino’s

2007-01-12T08:50:00.000-06:00

On this date in 1969, rock and roll legends, Led Zeppelin, released their self-titled first album. Today two years later, controversial television program All In The Family was first broadcast on CBS. Celebrating a birthday today are former world heavyweight boxing champ Joe (down goes) Frazier (1944) and “The Human Highlight Reel”, Dominique Wilkins (1960) of basketball fame.

Last night, The School Girl and I decided that we did not feel like making dinner, yet we did not want to go out to eat either. A quandary of this magnitude could have only one solution…order a pizza. It has been awhile since we actually ordered a pizza as we usually will just buy frozen ones to cook ourselves. So I picked up the Yellow Pages and let my fingers do the walking. As some of you already know, we live in Southwest Nowhere-ville in Marshall County and our pizza selection is limited. We have Pizza Hut but I have never been a huge fan of that establishment. They also tend to take a lot longer than normal since everyone in town will call them.

We used to have Papa John’s, one of my favorites, but they went out of business and we have stayed clear of them since a few years ago when we received a pizza that was still raw in the center. That leaves me with the choice of Domino’s. I like Domino’s pretty well. No real complaints product-wise but, of course, you must know that something happened to prompt me to write about them this morning.

I called Domino’s and spoke with Shawn. Shawn seemed very knowledgeable and pleasant. He was all about getting my order and getting off of the phone. Even though it was only the two of us, we decided it would be a good idea to order the 3 medium pizzas with one toping each for $5 per pie. (Note: one with pepperoni, one with ham and one with mushrooms.) We would have lunch for Friday or Saturday just hanging out in the refrigerator. The wait time seemed a reasonable 30 minutes considering it was in the middle of the normal dinnertime rush.

I prepared my check and was sure to add in a tip for the driver. I had some dishes from the previous night that required my attention so I delved wrist deep into soapy suds as The School Girl began sand-papering some trim in the kitchen for the upcoming revamping this weekend. Shortly, the telephone rang. It was the delivery driver with our pizza. We do not have a doorbell and were unable to hear the feeble knocking across the house. My wife trod to the front picking up the check on the way towards the front door and I continued to wash dishes.

She returned rather quickly, check still in hand. Apparently, Domino’s does not accept checks anymore and she needed to call them back to give our check card number over the telephone. I was irate to say the least. What pizza joint doesn’t accept checks? After a few minutes the driver had left and I began loading my plate with pizza. I opened the first box. Mushrooms were scattered across the pie looking all delicious and calling my name. In order to be fair I decided that I should sample each pizza (yeah, just to be fair). The next box was opened and it contained a nice and hot pepperoni and ham pizza. Hmmm, that wasn’t what I ordered at all. I announced aloud that I bet they really screwed this up and the last one had no toppings at all. I lifted the lid on the final box…cheese pizza.

“Where’s the phone?”, I exclaimed. After the entire fiasco concerning the check I felt the need to call Domino’s back. I hit redial and Shawn answered the phone. “Shawn, do you listen to complaints or do you have a manager?”

Shawn proceeded to put me on hold and retrieved his manager. Another young gentleman got on the line. “Hello?”, he said. He just said “hello”. There was no “how may I help you” or “hello, my name is turd face”, nothing but “hello”.

“With whom am I speaking?”, I asked him. “I am a manager.” Can you just tell that my blood pressure was rising? “Do you have a name or do you just go by manager”.

He proceeded to stutter “ers” and “ahhs” before spitting out his name…Bo. So I told Bo The Manager who I was and began informing him that they were unable to get their 3 pizzas with 1 topic on each special correct. He spit all over himself as he wanted to come pick up the original pizzas and bring me new ones. Yeah, like I was going to wait another 30 minutes. I told him that he could go ahead and take my name and address down and make my next order free. (So I will have to get Domino’s one more time before they are permanently on my list.)

I also felt it necessary to teach him a little trick that could assist his business and make less people angry when they aren’t able to pay with their check. I asked him if he thought it was a good idea if he had his telephone operators ask if the customer will be paying with cash or if they have their credit card ready. This would prevent future issues regarding their check policy. He agreed. Bo The Manager was audibly shaken as he hung up the phone but I think that he gained some knowledge from Old Man LeBlanc. I am sure that I was all kinds of a-hole last night but hey, who got the free pizza?

Die Hippie, Die

2007-01-11T13:22:00.000-06:00

Apparently, the equally hot and creepy mom from The Munsters, Yvonne De Carlo, died last night at the age of 84. Condolences to the family. Best news of the day, back in 1787, astronomer/composer (that isn’t your normal combination, is it?) Sir Frederick William Herschel discovered the moons Titania and Oberon of the planet Uranus (or the Klingons around Uranus?).

Yesterday I had to leave work early to attend Parent/Teacher Conferences for Little Harry. For those of you who do not know, he attends a posh private school in Brentwood. This is the place where some famous and not-so-famous rich people send their children. I am not sure how anyone affords this luxury but that is neither here nor there.

On my way to the school I decided to call and verify my appointment. Much to my chagrin, Little Harry’s mom CANCELED the appointment. “Why?” you ask. It was canceled because she had recently met with the teachers and felt it to be an unnecessary meeting. (Words cannot express…) Thanks to the great teachers over at the school, they were able to fit me back into the scheduled meeting times.

The one teacher that stood out to me was Mr. Bart Allen. Mr. Allen was the Language Arts teacher and I bet he longs to be a hippie. He was the epitome of what you would expect to see as the rebel English Lit teacher in high school (at least in TV and movies). You know the one I’m talking about. The one who has longer than normal hair and hasn’t shaved in a week or two and has wrinkly unkempt clothing. He speaks in metaphors and is extremely animated. This was Mr. Allen.

I can see him being the rogue teacher that gets tossed from his position in the school for inciting the students to buck authority, sort of like the substitute on the early 90s TV show My So-Called Life. The scary thing about it all was that he claimed to “get” my son and could relate to him, but what frightened me more was that I understood everything he said. He also mentioned that Little Harry should be in charge as far as class activities (and life) are concerned because he prefers to be in charge. I always knew that he would be the ring leader one day. Hopefully he will get conjugal visits whenever he gets busted. (Just kidding, or am I?)

The Ducks Aren’t So Mighty

2007-01-10T11:38:00.000-06:00

Alright, so are you ready for post number two today? I think I should start with something historical and educational like most of my other posts. Here goes: on this date in 1776, Thomas Paine first published the pamphlet which galvanized the American Revolution among the populace, Common Sense. There how was that? Also, there is a rumor circulating that an update to “Cogitations…” is imminent. (Check under Suggested Reading periodically.)

Last night, The School Girl and I were fortunate enough to attend another spectacular NHL game at the Gaylord Entertainment Center (or The GEC as us native Nashvillians call it). Our benefactor for the evening was Miss Catherine, my quality coach from work. She got these for the wife and me as a Christmas gift of sorts. (She works there and wouldn’t be using them and she knows that we love hockey).

After sitting through wreck traffic on I-65, we managed to get to the arena before game time. Luckily for us, we were able to get stuck standing next to a co-worker of The School Girl’s. Nothing makes a person’s day better than a young 20-something with a nasally lisp go on and on about her job while you are trying to ignore them and get hyped for hockey. I let it go and set my sights on a much bigger prize than normal. This fine day, sports’ Holy Grail was in Nashville for all to see and touch…Lord Stanley’s Cup! For those of you who are unaware (ignorant, if you will), The Stanley Cup is the trophy given to the best hockey team in North America since the late 1800s.

After the wait in line to visit The Cup, we made our way to the lower bowl and towards our seats. We were on the end opposite of the band stage (where an American Idol Season 2 reject performed later). The only problem with the seats was that they were designed for skinny people (i.e. not me).

During the Predator team introductions the public address system crapped out. Completely dead. No music, no talking, no nothing. They paraded out a local vocal group to sing The Star-Spangled Banner but we could barely hear a sound. It was at this moment a great thing happened that made your heart swell. The crowd began to sing. It was like in The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. The sounds echoed throughout the arena, it was wonderful.

The Preds took an early lead on the Ducks and extended it to 4-2 in the second period but it wouldn’t last.

During intermissions, the camera operators like to scan the crowd for people. They especially enjoy people doing crazy things. They happened to stop, at one point, on a woman who was sitting next to her boyfriend enjoying the music over the recently repaired P.A. system. She was making her breasts dance up and down by moving them intermittently with her hands along with the music. Boy did she turn red when she saw it up on the big screen!

A little into the second period, an older woman (50-ish) and her husband came in and sat a few rows behind us. Her husband looked normal but there was something about this Predator-jersied woman that just wasn’t normal. She was very loud and loved her Predators and made it known by screaming. She loved them so much that I notice she had removed her jersey to reveal a brown camisole and apparently a six month paycheck’s worth of augmentation! At one point she had jumped into her husband’s lap and made out with him and was sucking/biting on his neck, not to mention anything about how she shook her boobs from side to side when she finally got her turn on the big screen.

The Ducks scored again making it a 4-3 game but no one was nervous yet, but that would all change soon enough.

We hunkered down for what we knew would be a long game between the top two Western Conference hockey clubs.

In his first game back from injury, Tomas Vokoun began to fall apart in the second period as Anaheim tied the game at four goals each. A stellar performance in the third period kept the game tied and sent us into sudden death overtime.

The Predator Cheerleaders hung out in front of us for the final period and OT to help us forget about losing a big lead, much to the chagrin of The School Girl. She did find it amusing; however, when I pointed out that one of them had a tattoo under her left breast and was showing the world. (These photos of course were taken for my boys to see and educational purposes only).

After a couple of minutes had gone by in the overtime period, a pass was poked home by Scott Sullivan to shore up victory for the good guys and turn the Ducks into soup!

Another great night of hockey and this time we won. I can’t wait to go again and maybe next time we can get the whole crew together…in the cheap seats, of course.

No “Love’s” Lost

2007-01-10T10:24:00.000-06:00

Ok, for today’s birthday wishes we have historian Stephen Ambrose (1936), Baseball Hall of Famer Willie McCovey (1938), singer Jim Croce (1943) and British singer/Rock and Roll icon Rod Stewart (1945).

Today is going to be a double posting kind of day (I hope). My original plan today was to put up the photos from last night (which I will post later this afternoon) but fate stepped in and pissed me off again!

On my drive home from Nash-Vegas last night I noticed that the price of gas at the Love’s Travel Stops & Country Store in Columbia, TN (about 15 minutes from home and 30 minutes from Nashville) was only $1.85! I knew that I would be needing gas before the end of the week but decided to chance the price fluctuations and go home as it was getting late.

The School Girl and I carpool in to work this morning as we always do. I decided that I would go ahead and put some petrol into my tank this morning instead of running the risk that I wouldn’t be able to make it back to Columbia this evening without having to get some gasoline. As I pulled off of Interstate 65 into Columbia (Exit 46 for you Rand-McNally fans out there), I noticed the prices for gas had gone up by 10 cents! I was a little irked by this but I knew that I took that chance last night when I cruised on past and it was still cheaper than the $2.19 that is being charged over by my house.

The signs of a bad morning were evident as soon as I entered the parking lot. My gas tank is located on the driver side of my Honda and the only pumps open (only 2 open pumps total, by the way) could only be accessed by reversing into them due to how some people did not pull through. Eventually, I got my vehicle sidled up to pump #4 and jumped out to dispense the gas into my tank. I reached into my left-hand back pocket and removed my wallet from my Levi’s to retrieve my check card from within. I pressed the button marked “Pay Outside” and proceeded to follow the directions to the letter. “Insert Card” it says, so I comply. “Please Wait”. “Remove Pump”. “Please Wait”. “Select Grade”. Now I have to tell you that I am keeping up like a champ at this point. I know what comes next and I am giddy with anticipation. I see it telling me “Please Wait” hoping to see the “Dispense Product” request. I was disappointed (to say the least) at reading the next set of directions from my new enemy, pump #4…”Please See Cashier”.

I sighed audibly and cursed under my breath as I stomped towards the building. I flung the door open and turned in the direction of the soda. I needed a caffeine fix bad (since I am not smoking anymore) and picked up a Mountain Dew. I waited patiently (believe it or not) behind a couple of truck drivers for my turn to converse with the behemoth clerk, that I will call Beulah. (I don’t know her real name but she was greasy and had a large, hair-covered mole sleeping upon the crook of her nose and cheek). I told her that pump #4 was not working properly. She scrunched up her unibrow and looked disdainfully over to me and exclaimed, “Uhh, the pump isn’t on, that’s why.” Well, no shit Sherlock. If the pump was on it would be dispensing gas into my tank right now.

I proceeded to inform Beulah of the steps with which I went through prior to me walking into the store itself. In her infinite wisdom she was able to deduce that the problem must be with my check card. “There is no f-ing (and I did not spell it to her) problem with my card”. I pushed my card towards her sausage-like phalanges and told her to pre-set $15.00 for pump #4. It was at this point that she noticed she could not pre-authorize this pump. She tried again from another register. Denied.

“I cannot pre-authorize this pump,” she explained, “Can you move your car to another pump?” Now, after the long relationship that I have nurtured with pump #4, I was not about to be an infidel. So I calmly and pleasantly informed Beulah the following: “No, I cannot move my f-ing car around the f-ing parking lot. Every other f-ing pump is already taken and if I go back outside I will go across the f-ing street to Exxon!” It was at this point that Beulah called her manager to the front. A line of patrons wishing to pay for their wares was building slowly behind me. You could hear them shuffle their feet back and forth in impatience and annoyance.

Mr. Manager waltzed to the counter with his gravely-voice and porno-moustache to attempt to fix the issue with the pumps. It was at this point that Mr. Manager claimed to understand the issue. “The prices is changin’ and it wouldn’t allow’s us to pre-set da pumps, nuthin’s wrong whitcher card.”

“I knew that my card was fine”, I told them. So, I paid for my gasoline and my Mountain Dew and exited the building without so much as an apology. I could feel that my pressure was up and tried to calm myself down by breathing slowly. I really could have used a cigarette but I abstained (mostly because I had none). I put the nozzle into my gas tank and pulled the trigger mechanism. To add insult to injury, the gas came out of the hose so slowly that I could count each cent as it ticked off on the LED screen.

The entire excursion to get gas took over 15 minutes and allowed me to get The School Girl to work late. I was only able to make it on time by bobbing and weaving through traffic at a break-neck pace. I am glad that I get to leave work early today…parent-teacher conferences for Little Harry. I am sure that can only go well, right?

P.S. This historical posting is number 50!

I Got Nothing Here

2007-01-09T14:02:00.000-06:00

And now for something completely different, today marks the first (annual?) Monty Python Day. “Does your wife ‘go’? Is she a ‘goer’? Nudge-nudge - know what I mean? Say no more?”

Birthday wishes go out to everyone’s second favorite impeachable U.S. President, Richard M. Nixon, who would have been 94 years old today. (If you don’t think getting a hummer in the Oval Office makes you number one in the hearts - and on the dresses - of Americans then I don’t know what does.) Other birthday wishes go out to football Hall of Famer Bart Starr (1934), rock legend Jimmy Page (1944) and (for La Hermana), musician Dave Matthews (1967). Also in fictional literary news, today is Professor Severus Snape’s birthday. (Yes, I like Harry Potter, what of it?)

The Great Non-Smoking Experiment has reached one full week as of last night. I think that I am doing pretty well as I have not cheated even once. To be completely honest, I have craved a smoke on at least one occasion and have been thinking about what to do when the crew gets together later this month. I will be in a situation where I am allowed to smoke per the agreement with The School Girl; however, I am not sure if I will tempt fate. I found out from my mom yesterday that she is only one full day behind me in the stop smoking world. Congratulations to her as I know first hand how tough it is to quit.

Is it me or does anyone else think that there is a major rash of celebrities/famous people who are passing away lately? For example, this year alone the creator of Scooby Doo, Iwao Takamoto on January 8th, NASCAR driver, Bobby Hamilton on January 7th, and NFL (Denver Broncos) player Darrent Williams on New Year’s Day, have all died. Deaths at the end of last year include Saddam Hussein (12/30), U.S. President Gerald Ford (12/26), R&B singer James Brown (12/25), animator Joseph Barbera (12/18), The Jefferson’s actor Mike Evans (12/14), NFL owner and AFL founder Lamar Hunt (12/13), NBA Hall of Famer Paul Arizin and comedy legend Peter Boyle (12/12). These are just the people that I actually have heard of in the month of December! It is like an epidemic or something. I thought that these things happened in threes not by the dozen. I sure am glad that I decided to steer clear of being famous.

Not Quite The Library of Congress

2007-01-08T10:38:00.000-06:00

Happy Coming-Of-Age-Day to all the Japanese people who turn 20 years old this school year. Also, today would have been the 72nd birthday of the King of Rock and Roll, Elvis Presley and his still-born twin brother, Jesse (really, no crap, look it up!).

I would like to thank one of my readers, Lynnster, who pointed out an error in my last post. March 15th is not Saint Patrick’s Day as I originally thought. Actually it is much more ominous since it is the Ides of March, the day that Julius Caesar was warned to beware. He was murdered that day (Et tu Brute?). It is also Lynnster’s birthday that day, so in case I forget, have a great birthday (in two months from now!). For the record, Saint Patrick’s Day is on March 17th.

During New Year’s weekend, The School Girl and I drove down to W’boro to visit with her family and spend a few more days with her brother, El Capitan, who will be heading back to his military duties out west. It would be the last time we get to see him before he heads back to Iraq in the spring (for the 3rd time!).

We had a few items that needed returning from Christmas since we received a few duplicate/improper sized gifts. The closest mall, unfortunately, is in Florence, Alabama, a major hot-bed of commerce. The easiest way to get to Florence from W’boro is back roads and small highways. It takes about 2 hours and is a nice trip through the Deliverance Country areas of southern Tennessee.

El Capitan, his wife, her daughter, The School Girl and I all loaded into my father-in-law’s Chrysler and proceeded to cruise down the road to Bama. Approximately halfway between Collinwood, TN and Zip City, AL (it is really called Zip City), we decided it was time for a bathroom/drink/snack break. Off to our left was tiny gas station/convenience store. It was located specifically and exactly, dead center in the middle of…nowhere. (I can get you the coordinates if you wish, later).

Since I was in the waning days of my (awesomely sweet) smoking habit, I decided to jump out and puff a quick cigarette. At that moment I noticed a small sign that was dangling above the Coca-Cola machine which had a likeness of racing legend Dale Earnhardt plastered across the front of it.

This major hub of education/petrol/beef jerky was the local library! El Capitan’s wife was interested in seeing how many copies of Birth of a Nation were available. I would bet that they have none; however, I wouldn’t be surprised to find a wide array of Field and Stream and Soldier of Fortune magazines. You just gotta love Tennessee sometimes.

St. Patrick Must Have Been An Indian (Dot Not A Feather)

2007-01-05T12:46:00.000-06:00

Birthday wishes go out today to actor Robert Duvall (1931) of Godfather fame, also today back in 1998, Sonny Bono, everyone’s favorite downhill skier, died at the age of 62.

March 15th (unless I am mistaken) is Saint Patrick’s Day. This day also marks the end of my current job. They told us yesterday afternoon (via a conference call) that March 15th will be the final day. They are giving us the option of taking a severance package or moving to another department. “Oh wow, so you still have a job!” you say. Well technically I do; however, it will be a super-sonic, hella-crappy job! I took my job here at SunTrust Bank for two reasons: 1) I needed a job badly and 2) I would NOT have to talk to people directly (as you might have figured out…I hate people!).

This email job has been awesome. Sure it is boring and repetitive but it was something I could do in my sleep (and sometimes I did!). I could work while surfing the web, listening to CDs and even writing these little blog entries. It all came crashing to the ground when I came back from my very relaxing vacation back in July. They informed us that they were moving our jobs to India! Friggin’ India? What the hell is in India? Nothing…except my job, that is.

Well, I am glad that I do not have my money in this crap-hole financial institution. I try to steer clear of any place that has cost Americans jobs. I haven’t fully decided to stay on to begin answering phones and talking to these morons who call up here everyday but I probably have to at least for a little while. The more that I think of this the more that I realize how hard quitting smoking will be…starting on St. Patrick’s Day!

He Shoots, He Scores, They Lose

2007-01-04T12:42:00.000-06:00

Today marks the 36th anniversary of the last time The Beatles recorded together as a band. On this date in 1999, former professional wrestler Jesse “The Body” Ventura was sworn in as Minnesota Governor. People celebrating a birthday today include: Sir Isaac Newton (1643) and comedian Dave Foley (1963) of Kids In The Hall fame.

Four days before Christmas, The School Girl and I procured tickets and attended a Nashville Predators hockey game in downtown Nash-vegas. Truthfully, she got them from her boss that threw that Christmas party the day before. I never turn down a chance to see hockey, especially when it is free and the tickets were in the company’s suite (oh how “sweet” it was!). (Yeah, I know that is corny but I’d like to see you do any better.)

I was extremely hyped to go to the game for several reasons. First of all, we were playing the Buffalo Sabres. We will not get to play Buffalo at home again for three seasons! Also, Buffalo is one of the elite teams this year. It would be nice to see how the Preds truly stack up against them. Thirdly (is that really a word?), did I mention that we were going to be in a suite?!

We arrived early and were one of the first groups to get into the suite. The previous night saw us forget about super-pooch, Fandango and had to leave early. Our plan for this night was for Sister-in-law to let him out. The School Girl thought that maybe she should call to check that he got to mark his territory outside.

Looking back into the suite you can see the little seating area and the food…Beef Wellington and fajitas, vegetables, hot wings. All of it was free. Free food, free drinks…and not just free soda, mind you. There was wine (both red & white) and beers. Yes plural as in Miller Lite, Budweiser, Bud Light, Heineken! I, of course, couldn’t turn down free beer and free Wellington!

I sat in a front seat cheering for my Preds. I didn’t do too much cheering unfortunately. I think it was 33 seconds into the game that the Sabres scored and they never really looked back. The fact that the only person in the suite I knew was my wife added to the awesome headache I was sporting and the one sided romp of the poorly played hockey game made us leave with about 7 minutes to go.

Regardless of the outcome, it was a nice way to begin my Christmas holiday even though we got spanked. I never have been a fan of getting spankings!

P.S. For those of you who are interested in the Great Non-Smoking Experiment, I have good news. It has been a whopping 68 hours (approximately) since I last wrapped my Chap-Stick covered lips around a beautiful, delicious cigarette. The withdrawals are almost over…I hope!

Day 2: Electric Boogaloo

2007-01-03T13:16:00.000-06:00

Today in 1920, the Boston Red Sox sold Babe Ruth to the Evil Empire (New York Yankees) continuing what would be an 86 year World Series drought and began what was known as the Curse of the Bambino. In a related note, the oldest known Red Sox fan, a Middleborough, MA man of 112 years who also attended the first game at Fenway Park died this week. Creepy (almost). Born today, in 1892, famed Lord of the Rings author J.R.R. Tolkien, wrestling announcer Jim (Good Ol’ JR) Ross (1954) and television’s Wonder Years star Danica McKellar (1975) who starred as Winnie Cooper.

So I am approximately 44 hours into the Great Non-Smoking Experiment and I feel fine. Honestly, I feel superb. I haven’t craved a smoke all day. My biggest problem is what to do during my free time. What I mean is, during breaks and lunch what do I do to pass the time? What should I do during my drive to and from work? These questions are the most important ones right now (to me, anyways!).

Maybe, just like Kojak, I could take up eating lollipops. That is all fine and dandy but there are flaws with that. First of all, it costs money to buy all of these pops and part of the reason I am quitting with cigarettes is that it costs me money. I know that it isn’t that much money but every little bit helps. Right? Second, I am very picky about my lollipops (as with everything else in life). I also, like a good variety of styles. There are those pops that are swirled with a cream-favor and look like mini-donuts…I don’t care for those. Also, maybe one minute I want one with bubble gum in it and the next I want one with a Tootsie Roll in it. You may scoff but these are the things that make me tick. Finally, if I go with the lollipop thing I have opened myself up to a wider range of mooch. When you smoke, the occasional smoker who is cheap/poor/lazy/forgetful (whichever) will bum a smoke from you. Every once in awhile this is okay but after a few times of doing this people (even if they say otherwise) tend to look down upon this. When you eat many lollipops you not only open yourself to the smokers but the non-smokers alike. Just about everyone loves candy and I can see myself handing out pops left and right.

What I did today to keep my break time busy was to read. I have hundreds of books and magazines to occupy my time and I can sit at my desk and relax. I guess this will be okay until I get sick and tired of staying at my desk…all…day…long. This is great but what about in the car you say? In the immortal words of my former co-worker, Gato-Thesaurus Tom (don’t ask), “I’m glad you asked me that.”

La Hermana got me a book on CD for Christmas. I tried it out yesterday since I was not carpooling. It isn’t so bad. I think I can get used to it and learn to pay attention to the road and the story simultaneously (yesterday I got the story part down pat but veered off the road once or twice). I have found that I can listen after I drop of the wife at work and prior to picking her up. If this system works out I may just have to get some more books on CD. If this doesn’t pan out as I plan, I guess I will just have to amend my contract to allow me to smoke in the car and while I am at work. That seems fair doesn’t it?

Smoke Alarm

2007-01-02T13:06:00.000-06:00

I am back. Not that I really went anywhere. I have returned from holiday and from my sickness. Last week was to be a very quick week after the Christmas holiday and some relaxation prior to celebrating the impending New Year was on the docket. This scenario did not work out as planned. As you know from my last posting, I had obtained a really good illness. Usually, an illness will come and go and maybe last a couple of days at most. Please note that due to my ever increasing bad luck, this time the flu kicked my butt. I suffered through last Tuesday, barely able to do any work. Thankfully, my job could be done by monkeys and I was able to fake my way through the day. Wednesday saw me come to work and leave not too long after lunch. This doesn’t benefit me too much as I carpool with The School Girl. I took a nap in the parking lot at her job while listening to the new CD by The Who. Not too shabby. After my fever almost hit 102 degrees, I pretty much decided that unless my cold (or whatever it was) had completely disappeared, I would be staying home on Thursday. So Thursday afternoon, after a good nap and some cold medicine, I managed to hook up my new DVD burner to the television and started to burn some concerts I TiVo’d from VH1 Classic. (Lynyrd Skynyrd, The Faces, Thin Lizzy, Elton John, etc.). I think I started to get better as the day wore on.

Saturday afternoon, The School Girl and I traveled to W’boro to visit her brother who had come into town (the previously mentioned El Capitan).

The weekend was pretty low-key. We managed a trip to the mall in Florence, AL and I got my brakes fixed. (Finally!) The big news; however, is my smoking situation. For Christmas, I decided that I really did want to quit smoking and my wife has been hounding me forever about it. As a good faith gesture, I decided that I would create an actual contract spelling out the specific terms of my agreement to quit smoking. Well this agreement or matrimonially binding contract went into effect at 12:01 a.m. this morning. Truthfully I haven’t smoked anything (meaning cigarette or cigar, my dope-fiend readers) since 5:00 p.m. yesterday evening. The fun has not been ripped out of life forever even though I have remained true to my word (so far!). I am not too grumpy (not more than normal anyway!) and I haven’t craved a smoke too much. It did feel odd at break time that I was not headed outside to puff away but I may actually be able to handle it this time. Luckily, my contract allows for me to smoke when I drink. Another get-together is planned for the Green Machine/Hoosier Girl place in a few weeks so if I can just make it that long without pulling out my hair (not that I could) I think I can survive.

Sick of ‘06

2006-12-27T10:45:00.000-06:00

Last night, the 38th President of the United States, Gerald Rudolph Ford, Jr. died at the age of 93. He will always be remembered as the only man to become President without winning an election to the Office of President or even to the Office of Vice-President. My memories of him mostly include his lampooning at the hands of Chevy Chase on Saturday Night Live.

It is official, I am sick of the holiday season. Mostly, I am just sick during the holiday season. I went to bed Monday feeling a little woozy and worn down. I thought maybe I ate way too many deviled eggs (which I did). The previous few days consisted of much travel, little sleep and erratic temperatures. The weather was chilly out of doors and hot as Hades in my sister-in-law’s house.

Much to The School Girl’s secret happiness, I almost lost my voice yesterday on our way home from work. I was accused of sounding like Peter Brady (It’s time to change). I thought; however, that with a shot of Robitussin last night, I would be feeling better. On the contrary, I am much worse. Scratchy throat, stuffy, runny nose and light-headedness greeted me this morning along with my alarm clock. I considered skipping out on work but I started feeling guilty when I knew my wife would be heading to work alone.

I wish that I let this feeling disappear as I am only getting worse. I am actually considering visiting the doctor! I probably won’t, though, as I usually reserve this act as a last resort. I hope that I start getting well prior to New Year’s Eve. I would hate to ruin this last holiday of the year with wheezing and whininess.

Last-Minute Shopper

2006-12-26T11:04:00.000-06:00

I hope that everyone had a spectacular Christmas. I am pretty sure that it is safe to say my whole family did. Now all we need to do is rest and recover!

Today is the annual British celebration of Boxing Day and also marks the beginning of Kwanzaa. Birthday wishes go out to Boston Red Sox Hall of Famer Carlton Fisk (1947) and American Idol contestant Chris Daughtry (1979).

I have never been known as someone who loves to celebrate the Christmas holiday. Too much commercialism and less of what the holiday truly means tends to bring me down. I do; however, enjoy making purchases for my loved ones. My biggest problem is that I always seem to procrastinate when it comes to purchasing gifts. Luckily, The School Girl is always on the ball.

This past Friday was going to be an extremely busy day. I did have the day off (one of my last two vacation days) and The School Girl had to work. This gave me my final opportunity to finish up shopping for her. I had several items in mind (mostly from the list that she made me…after Thanksgiving!). I drove the 30 + minutes from the ‘Burg to Cool Springs to fight the mob of other last-minute people at the mall. I managed to pick up an obscure Johnny Depp movie that she enjoys at the Wal-Mart but I was looking for bigger fish. Being the husband of a Gilmore Girls fanatic (and remember, I don’t watch it because I like it but because I’m forced to watch it…maybe that sounded believable), my wife enjoys owning each season on DVD. I knew that we had seasons 1, 2, 3 and 5. Yes, season 4 is missing. Last week I noticed a sign in the window of Suncoast Video. It felt like the angels were singing to me directly.

“All TV DVDs Buy One Get One Free!”

I pushed through the throng of people into the DVD emporium and began sifting through the many stacks of TV shows. I go through The O.C., Sanford And Son, Wonder Woman and finally Gilmore Girls! I remember that I need seasons 4 and 6 only. I notice that they have displayed on the front table (below the wonderful sign) seasons 1-3 and season 5. CRAP! I decide to traipse further into the establishment and find the wall of TV DVD collections. How lucky was I that they still had 2 copies of season 4? I snatched one up immediately.

I spoke with one of the two working employees to discover that they were out of season 6. As a replacement, I decided to go with The O.C. season 1. I was very proud of myself. I could actually feel the grin growing across my face as I stood in the ever lengthening checkout line. I was fine with the wait because I was jamming the latest Tesla CD on my new cell phone. This also prevented the dregs of society from feeling the need to strike up a conversation with me as we wait together in the line.

Finally, it was my turn to check out. I placed my wares upon the counter and reached for my wallet. The sales girl (who happens to be the manager) asked me an odd question. “Does the person you are buying the Gilmore Girls need this season specifically?” I told her that I indeed did choose the correct season for my lovely wife. “That’s too bad because seasons 1, 2 and 3 are buy one, get one free.”

”EXCUSE ME!?”

Apparently, my selection was not considered part of the “all” in the sign in the front window. She proceeded to inform me that “select” items were in the buy one, get one free deal. At this moment, I snapped! Bad word this, cuss word that, why was season 5 on your specially set up table, blah blah blah, G-Damn, F-ing store. Piece of shiatsu (massage)…anyways, I was angry.

This woman then had the gall to ask me if I still wanted to purchase The O.C. DVD! I wouldn’t buy anything from this place until after Jesus returns. Okay, so maybe I overreacted but when a store falsely advertises and won’t honor their mistakes, I tend to get a little red!

At this point, I needed to try and relax and decided a trip to the lavatory on the other side of the mall would do the trick. This mall is fully outfitted with the latest in bathroom technology. Self-flushing toilets, knob-less faucets and even automatic paper towel dispensers! After doing my business, I washed my hands per normal and proceeded to wave my hands in front of the paper towel dispenser’s sensor. I heard the motor start up but nothing came out. I peered into the mechanical box and saw that it was out of towels! Why is this happening to me? I spun around to see that they had the hands-free air blowers to dry your hands…out of order. I was relegated to wiping my hands upon my Levi’s and growling at other mall patrons.

Regardless of the set backs, I managed to visit a few other stores and finish the majority of my shopping agenda without too many mishaps. I have decided that I will have ALL of my Christmas shopping completed by the second week of December in the future so that I don’t accidentally kill any clerks.

Christmas Cheer (Gimme a Beer)

2006-12-21T09:50:00.000-06:00

This is my final day of work before the Christmas holiday and I am pretty sure my last blog until after Christmas passes. (I heard cheers, were you clapping? Stop it!). Anyway, I hope everyone has a safe and happy holiday and be sure to hug everyone you see (just not me, that is creepy).

Plymouth Colony in present day Massachusetts was founded today in 1620 as William Bradford and the other Pilgrims parked the Mayflower off of Plymouth Rock. On this date in 1913, the New York Times published the first ever cross-word puzzle…and my grandmother is thrilled about it. Birthday wishes go out to Joe Paterno (1926), Phil Donahue (1935) – hey, why not?, Frank Zappa (1940), Samuel L. Jackson (1948) and Ray Romano (1957). A big F-you finger goes out to Jane Fonda who turns really damn old today.

Anyone who knows me understands that by no stretch of the imagination am I a social butterfly, although I do enjoy a good party. The School Girl on the other hand would fit more into that category. I like to hang out with my family and my very few close friends while sneering at strangers and other people that I am not buddy-buddy with. As Randall Graves said in one of my favorite movies, Clerks, “I hate people, but I love gatherings. Isn't that ironic.”

So keeping all of this in mind, I attended a Christmas party with my wife thrown by the Senior Vice-President of the major U.S. insurance company that she works at. I, of course, dreaded the thought of it all but entered with a smile. Nothing says uncomfortable more than having to enter a gated community in one of the more uppity towns in our fair state while driving one of our soon to be dead (and clanking) vehicles, pulling up to the extremely opulent home as the first guests of the evening. Not to mention that my wife happens to be one of the two non-management or vice-president employees who would be attending that evening.

Now please note that even though I was having a well hidden anxiety attack for having to attend a party with rich people that I didn’t know, I was still in a good mood. I was one working day away from a nice four day weekend and I had just procured Nashville Predator hockey tickets. When I called my wife to let her know I was on my way to pick her up from work she asked me, “Do we have any plans for tomorrow night?” This, my fellow men, we all know is a very loaded question. It is definitely unwise to answer with a whole-hearted “yes” or “no” as you may be getting yourself stuck in something horrible, like say a Christmas party with rich, stuffy, old men in ties or you may miss out on some NHL! I answered with the obligatory, “Uhh, why?” Apparently, she had managed to get invited to the company owned suite that her fine institution of business has located at the Gaylord Entertainment Center in downtown Nash-vegas. These are the seats where they serve you dinner (Beef Wellington) and beverages (free beer!). The people that will be attending the game would also be at the party tonight so I had to grin and bear it for the evening.

Walking into the home, I was not taken aback by an ostentatious abode but just a really nice homey place. We were made to feel welcome immediately and never once did I feel like I was being talked down to. Oh no, I might be enjoying the company of these people! Two glasses of red wine added to the multiple plates of stuffed mushrooms, bacon wrapped scallops, steak and quail followed by cheesecake sure did put me at ease and into a great mood. My initial plan of coming in, eating, then leaving was completely put out of my mind. Even when one of the creepy VPs told me that my wife was hot and that I couldn’t be offended because he was old didn’t bother me. By the way, when you are younger that my Pops, it doesn’t mean that you can get away with being a pervert but I let it go when he left immediately afterwards.

We were all stoked for a game of DVD Family Feud when I noticed I had a voice message on my (new sweet-ass) phone. Sister-In-Law had been unable to let our pooch, Fandango, out to do his business because the nephew was sporting a fever. We had to leave. A few Richard Dawson and Hogan’s Heroes comments later and we were out the door headed back to the boondocks. All in all, it was a good night with people that I normally wouldn’t dare hang out with if not forced by The School Girl but...I still loathe people in general. Hey, it’s my thing. That is until tonight when we all congregate again for the beating that we will put on those Buffalo Sabres!

Another Adventure of Snake And The Evil One

2006-12-20T11:13:00.000-06:00

Another big event in history for today: in 1860, South Carolina was the first state to secede from the United States, leading to the Civil War. Today in birthday news, Branch Rickey (1881), the man who helped integrate black players into Major League Baseball was born. On a side note, former Boston Red Sox owner, Tom Yawkey, passed on Jackie Robinson (and Willie Mays) when given the first shot at signing. Another reason to further the (former) curse! Also, Happy 40th to Black Crowes singer Chris Robinson.

I remember as a child (and maybe you were the same way) that I would run everywhere…and never look where I was going. This phenomenon was especially prevalent when I would get my new Buster Brown shoes. I loved to see those little guys go back and forth. The big problem with this is, of course, that I would run into stuff. I would hit walls, door frames and the occasional person.

This problem would come to light in a big way (at least it was big at the time, to me) when I was in the second grade. Back in 1982 (2nd Grade) I attended an old school that, if memory serves me correctly, housed Kindergarten through 12th Grade (and I believe Pops went there for a time). The playground was an enormous paved area that included a few playground type items but mostly a big open space. One afternoon while at recess, my friends and I were running around chasing each other, going at about the speed of light (or a small groundhog). Suddenly, my progress was impeded and I toppled to the hard pavement below. My backside was instantly sore but this did not compete with the utter fear that washed over me seconds later. The meanest teacher in school was standing there. I would tell you her name but due to the fright she created in every student, I have repressed it. I had torn her stockings and created a bruise on her vein-covered leg. She was furious. You would think that I dropped a house on her sister or something (obscure Wizard of Oz reference). She snatched me up by the arm and dragged me to the principal’s office where I proceeded to sit on the hard wooden bench outside of his office. I never actually saw Mr. Principal for when the bell ending recess pealed, I got up and headed back to class. This incident was never spoken of again. I never even told my parents about it, until now.

Why do I tell you all of this under the guise of a Snake and Evil One story? To impress upon you how much small characteristics can be passed hereditarily. The other day, my brilliant nephew, Snake, attending his 1st Grade classes in the Boro had to use the facilities, the lavatory if you will (obscure “American Dream” Dusty Rhodes reference). Mr. Snake bounded into the bathroom with fervor as he apparently really needed to go bad! Unfortunately for him, he ran headlong into one of the stalls, knocking himself down…and out!

A trip to the school nurse and some ice did the trick to fix the young lad up good as new. It really makes you wonder; however, why as boys that we do silly things like this. I think that we just get way too excited about the freedom of the hallways and playgrounds. Hopefully, this will be something that he grows out of or some broken bones will be the norm for the little guy.

Go Tell It On The Mountain

2006-12-19T10:13:00.000-06:00

On this date in 1843, Charles Dickens’, A Christmas Carol was first published in England, paving the way for Rich Little to butcher it in his 1978 television special. Also, today in 1988, the summer fun sport of lawn darts was banned in the United States saving eyes of children everywhere. Happy Birthday to one of my childhood sports heroes, Kevin McHale, of Boston Celtics fame, who turns 49 today. Others born today were Reggie White (1961), Criss Angel (1967) and Alyssa Milano (1972).

This past Sunday evening, The School Girl and I visited the church of the Sister-In-Law and her husband, Randy Marsh. The Children’s Ministry was putting on their yearly program for the Christmas holiday. This year it was Three Wise Men and a Baby. The School Girl’s nephew was participating and we like to try and support the family’s kids as much as possible. Normally, these plays or programs are pretty entertaining as the children generally work really hard and have great support from the adults…normally.

It was announced prior to this, the second time that the play was enacted, that one of the main characters who was to participate unfortunately was stricken with appendicitis. Strike one. While perusing the program guide I noticed the names of the Three Wise Men: Garthstonia, Elvisstonia and Jamesstonia. They couldn’t possibly be dressing these children up as musical icons to be The Wise Men, could they? Yes, they could. Strike two.

I won’t mention that most of these children are completely void of musical talent, but I have no problem overlooking this fact. They are children and they are having fun and worshipping the Lord. At least they had the guts to get up in front of family, friends and strangers and sing aloud.

I began noticing that some of the music had a hip-hop beat to it. Surely they wouldn’t update classic religious Christmas songs to appeal to the youth of the church? I will leave you to be the judge with the following lyrical presentation:

“Go tell it, go tell it, go tell it on the mountain!” (cross arms and lean to the side). I was embarrassed for them all. Strike three.

They only things that kept my attention was the fact that my nephew actually looked like he was trying to do his best and was one of the few who DID NOT read his lines from the script while on stage! The other was a little boy named Benjamin. Benjamin was very animated in his arm movements and his dancing. He, also, was the loudest voice in the church. He seemed to be having a great time. He made me giggle multiple times. I found out later that Benjamin was a special child with a mental handicap. I felt a little bit bad that I was laughing until I realized that I wasn’t laughing at Benjamin but laughing in general at his unabashed spirit and his fun time.

For most of the program I was wishing I could run home and watch football and realized that this was one of those times that an hour of my life would be lost forever! I think that now I realize it was not about the fact that this was the worst piece of acting and singing/entertainment I have witnessed in years but was about the fun the children were having and celebrating the birth of Jesus who suffered way more than I just did.

Saturday Night’s Alright For…Sleeping

2006-12-18T13:16:00.000-06:00

Happy Republic Day to everyone’s favorite African nation, Niger. Today in 1865 the 13th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution was adopted, abolishing slavery in all federally owned land. An interesting list of birthdays for today: Josef Stalin (1878), Ty Cobb (1886), Keith Richards (1943), Steven Spielberg and Steven Biko (1946), Brad Pitt (1963), “Stone Cold” Steve Austin (1964) and Katie Holmes (1978). Also, today in 1997, we lost Chris Farley…(in a van down by the river!).

After a long and difficult day of traversing the malls and shopping centers to try to complete the Christmas shopping list we all headed to damn near Kentucky to have fun at the Green Machine and Hoosier Girl’s house. I, of course knowing where I was going, got The School Girl and myself there late…because we got lost! G-Man and family had already arrived and was already a beer up on me. We were lured to the northern Tennessee region by talk of grilled steaks, beer and gifts. Now if there is anything else more to life than that I don’t what it might be!

G-Man and I stand and ridicule the cooking style of Chef Big D…I mean, we spoke at length concerning the state of affairs regarding the Middle East Conflict and the economy. Yeah right!

Big D did another superb job running the grill and he made his famous garlic green beans.

After getting a good look at the steaks, G-Man was prepared to sing for his supper…or he is demonstrating his circus seal act from the movie Clerks! (Usually this is Green Machine’s role!)

G-Man and SueBoo’s middle child, Sugar Bear, shows off her new Christmas themed braces.

Green machine decided to show Hoosier Girl who the real boss was in their home. I just hope she didn’t hurt him too bad after we all left!

Here I am sucking up to The School Girl in preparation for any obnoxious antics I might be planning to partake in later on in the evening.

Sweet Pea and I played a little soccer with Green Machine’s basketball. This is the last known photograph to exist of poor little Mr. Basketball. Green Machine inadvertently hit The School Girl in the leg with the ball and she proceeded to kick it pretty hard. It traveled past the cars…down the drive way…into the street…into the neighbor’s yard…down their drive way…into their backyard…into the forest…possibly off a cliff and into history. Now we know what to get him next Christmas!

It appears that The School Girl is propping me up but we are just having a good time listening to music that probably was loud enough to annoy the neighborhood.

We tried our best to imitate King Of The Hill, unfortunately we couldn’t stand still long enough!

Some strategy and the rules of darts were discussed by The School Girl and I as Big D probably cheats in the background.

We all waited patiently to exchange gifts. I got Clerks II on DVD and several sweet LPs to add to my collection: The Jimi Hendrix Experience’s Electric Ladyland and Close To The Edge and 90125 from Yes. I understand that others received gifts, too. Apparently that was news-worthy but I was too busy looking at my stuff!

Baby Toby got love here from his momma, Hoosier Girl and from everyone else; however, he ran every time Sweet Pea came near him.

Sweet Pea was still getting over her illness and got tired several times during the evening. This; however, was just a way to get her tanks refilled for more fun later!

Green Machine was very proud of his double and single bulls-eyes but anyone can throw that well if you practice everyday leading up to our games.

The Green Machine’s sister, Jess, came over for a short time with her man du jour, Joseph, to participate in the fun.

SueBoo ponders her next throw at the dart board and it appears someone said something improbable…again.

I think someone told SueBoo that we were playing marbles and not darts but this didn’t stop G-Man from playing great!

Now, it is not a party until somebody breaks something or something crazy happens. So as not to disappoint, somebody (Jess) locked the bathroom door from the outside and no one inside to unlock the door!

We tried to pick the lock to no avail. Hoosier Girl decided to take the hinges off of the door as a last resort. After the first hinge was removed and she struggled with the second, Green Machine picked the lock like he was G. Gordon Liddy and everyone had a good laugh.

Now is the part of the show where we dance! It looks like Sprockets up in here! (obscure Saturday Night Live/Mike Myers reference).

Apparently, the boys drank their beers so quickly that they just had to make room for more as fast as possible. Not that the bathroom was far away and the door was unlocked by this time. Oh well.

We did our best to keep the girls occupied and having a good time, as well!

There were more darts to be played. Some good darts, some bad darts, some cheating and maybe even a little fighting.

When the night started to wind down we decided it was time for a laugh. We put Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby on and laughed until milk poured from our noses (no cows were harmed during the showing of this film)!

Some people were light-weights and could not hang with the big boys. Never forget the first rule of drinking: the first one to fall asleep gets messed with!

More Adventures of Snake and The Evil One

2006-12-15T09:07:00.000-06:00

At sunset today Hanukkah begins, so in honor of something I heard a moron say several years ago…Happy Chaka Khan to our Jewish friends! Today is significant in many other ways: in 1791, the first ten amendments to the U.S. Constitution (Bill of Rights) were ratified. In 1891, Dr. James Naismith introduced the first version of his game we now call basketball in my home state of Massachusetts. In 1966, Walt Disney died and forever became an animator-cicle (wait for it…). And finally, Adam Brody of Fox Television’s The O.C. fame was born today in 1979. Yes I watch The O.C. and Gilmore Girls, what of it? Maybe The School Girl makes me watch them or something. Isn’t that right Uncle Grizz?

The other day my sister, La Hermana, was reading a story to my nephews Snake & The Evil One. I understand that they were laying about very quietly listening to the story in the bedroom probably in preparation for the evening’s slumber.

Out of the blue, Snake jumped up with fervor and stood facing the bed. “Hey Mom, get a load of this!”, he exclaimed. Snake proceeded to lift his leg towards the ceiling and scrunched up his little face. It was at this moment that everyone knew danger was lurking. Snake released very audible (and odoriferous) flatulence!

Sometimes it amazes me what little kids can do. One minute Snake is whooping you at a Tony Hawk video game or showing off that he knows more Spanish than you or another minute he is releasing paralyzing nerve gases. Ain’t they just the cutest things?

Pain In The Neck

2006-12-14T20:38:00.000-06:00

Sad news from the world of entertainment yesterday with the loss of comedic genious Peter Boyle. Remember that there are only 10 shopping days left until Christmas.

I woke up early as usual around 5:00 AM in preparation for my morning ritual. As with most mornings I woke up with a decent headache but was trying to ignore it. The School Girl stopped me in mid-leg swing. Apparently, she hadn't slept much at all the night before and had been in excruciating pain. In the middle of the night her neck had pretty much seized up and she was unable to move.

She decided that she had put off going to a chiropractor long enough. Since we are one car down, and I was feeling slightly unwell myself, I stayed home to drive her to her appointment. We had discussed going to work late; however, the earliest she could get in to be seen was at 2:00 PM. It was official, we had a grown-up skip day.

School Girl spent most of the morning icing down her neck and I played with my sweet new cellphone. She did also get a chance to do a small bit of scrapbooking. Maybe with school being basically finished with, she could catch up from being over a year behind.

Two o'clock rolled around and we headed to the major hub of commerce and finance...downtown Lewisburg, TN. I thank God (and my parents) that I had my new MP3 phone because "it should only take an hour" turned into "my hair is turning grey because I'm sitting here sooooo long!" They took x-rays and she took a water massage therapy. I sat and listened to the new Chris Daughtry CD on my phone (thanks Green Machine) and smoked too many cigarettes. I also have to mention that the receptionist lady really creeped me out. She sounded like she was a member of the Lollipop Guild!

After over an hour they called me in and we got to meet the doctor. He pulled out the x-rays and put the photo of The School Girl's neck next to one of a "normal" neck. A normal neck is curved out towards your throat...the x-ray of The School Girl was curved in the opposite direction! Anyway, a crack here, a crack there and she was able to maneuver normally and all head pain had ceased. So hopefully after a few more visits the damage can be reversed. I think that maybe I will make myself a visit to get rid of all of my back, neck and head pains too.

Carnton Plantation for Halloween

2006-12-13T10:39:00.000-06:00

Back in 1974 on this date, Malta revised their constitution turning the former British colony into a republic thus making today Republic Day in that nation. Also, Happy 39th Birthday wishes go out to actor/comedian Jamie Foxx.

Back in mid-October the entire gang went out for a Halloween celebration in Franklin. We met up at the exit off of Interstate 65. We piled into the two biggest vehicles and decided to head to the Franklin Square where they were having a Pumpkin Festival. Many booths were set up where tons of vendors were hawking their wares which included arts and crafts. Several children and adults alike were dressed in costumes.

Here a gentleman brought his dogs who were dressed up as super heroes.

A guy dressed as Batman was making his rounds getting his picture taken with various people. Someone noticed that he was sporting an extra large cod-piece (probably one of the ladies…or Green Machine). Big D thought it would be funny to get his picture taken with him but as you see he covered up the area in question. More than likely he heard us making fun of him!

There wasn’t much to see but it was a new festival. Maybe having a few pumpkins would have been nice since it was called The Pumpkin Festival!

We trodded back to the cars and decided it was time for a meal. It was suggested that we all go to one of the local Mexican restaurants to get our grub on and have a few brews before we went to the Carnton Plantation.

All of the guys of legal drinking age (except B2 – oh but wait, he is one of the girls- never mind) opted for the “big beer”. They really got the day going pretty well. After we ate, we talked about doing some tequila shots until the realization that the cost of them at a restaurant would be astronomical and made us come up with alternate plans. So off to the liquor store we rolled!

We pooled our funds and splurged for a bottle of Sammy Hagar’s Cabo Wabo Tequila. The only problem was where were we going to drink it? After a trip to the grocery store for Dixie cups, limes and a salt shaker we drove over to where G-Man works. In the parking lot was a handy dandy picnic table. How convenient.

After 3 shots G-Man and Green Machine felt much love for each other. Luckily, Green doesn’t have as much love for G-man as he does for Hoosier Girl. We still aren’t really sure what they did off in the wooded area behind the building.

It had been dark for a little while and we knew it was time to head to the Carnton Plantation. For you non-historians, the Carnton Plantation was the location of the Civil War Battle of Franklin and was the home to former Nashville, TN mayor Randal McGavock and his family. His widow is said to still occupy the residence…creepy! It is also the final resting place of over 1,500 Confederate soldiers.

They gave a tour through the home and had a few people dressed up in period garb to help further the illusion of being sent back in time.

Green Machine and Hoosier Girl stand and listen as I tell them something probably incredibly intelligent.

This old tree is in the garden. It stood throughout the terrible battle and has seen many horrors.

Big D, me in my Fred Durst hat, B2 and G-Man all read along before heading into the eerie Confederate Cemetery. Candles were placed around the graves that gave the scene a heightened sense of fright.

This guy is dressed up to look like a Civil War Confederate General. His uniform was superb!

After the tour was over, only G-Man, SueBoo, Big D, School Girl and myself decided to NOT go home. Apparently the others are light weights!

Even after gorging ourselves with Mexican cuisine earlier in the evening we were famished. The five of us knew that there was only one place that could relieve our hunger pangs…Waffle House!

The Waffle House was packed with even freakier people than normal. I swear that there was a woman dressed as Marie Antoinette! Also, in the booth next to us was a group of younger kids. One of them was eye-balled more than once by the G-Man and me…that is until it was decided by the girls that “she” might just be a “he”! Well, regardless, he was a pretty man, right G-Man?

Another night of reverie and silliness was had by all and of course, not for the last time.

Beware Of Stripper

2006-12-12T10:48:00.000-06:00

This date in 1963 saw the United Kingdom grant independence to Kenya. I doubt that there will be hotdogs and apple pie, but maybe lots of coffee drinking (one of their major exports…look it up if you don’t believe me).

Disclaimer: Anyone under the age of 18 or who is my mom may not wish to read this story. You have been warned.

Several years ago, prior to meeting The School Girl, I was hanging out a little with a good buddy of mine, Jace of Ace. Jace and I had several things in common, one of which was that we worked together. One Sunday evening I trekked across L.A. (Lower Antioch) over to his apartment to just chill as neither of us had anything to do or any dating prospects at the time.

If I am not mistaken, we spent the first part of our evening watching home movies. Now, these aren’t your typical home movies. Old Jace and his crew make films. Mostly they are zombie flicks but hey, who doesn’t love a good zombie movie. I also let him get his kicks by having him show me his “killer clown” movies since he knows that clowns are the devil to me!

Eventually, we bored of this and of playing Sega Dreamcast (yes, he is the one who bought the Dreamcast) so we decided that we should go to a “gentleman’s club”. Normally, this is going to be a poor decision and this night was one of those poor decisions. First of all, I was flat broke and I informed Jace of this regularly occurring scenario. He rebuffed by stating he believe he had enough funds to cover me. Well I couldn’t really turn down such a selfless act, could I? I didn’t.

So the decision was final and we jumped in the Jace’s fire engine red LeBaron and cruised to downtown Nash-Vegas to Déjà Vu where there are hundreds of beautiful women and three ugly ones. It was obvious that on Sunday evenings the three ugly ones are on duty.

We were able to get a front table due to the lack of customers. Sunday nights do not seem to bring out the perv crowd (unless you counted Jace and me, that is). Jace, being the veteran that he was knew these nights were a good time to visit nudie bars. The girls, hot for cash, would spend more time “entertaining” the guys when it was slow.

We had not so much as lit our first cigarettes when a mostly naked young lady sauntered over to the table. I remember only a few details about this one particular girl but the details I do remember are quite vivid. What stood out right away were her tattoos. She had many of them covering her arms and back and her breasts. Another of her attributes were her many piercings. It read like a laundry list of body parts when pointing out the metallic accoutrements: ears, nose, eyebrow, belly button, nipples and the finale…multiple piercings in her private areas! She was very proud of these as she kept…ahem…”opening the barn doors” (if you will) so that we could see the metal studs!

It was about that time the stripper decided to get extra friendly with me. She was hovering over me shaking herself like trying to get peaches out of a tree. Her octopus-like hands were groping things that she had no business (legally or personally) getting near. Out of fairness she decided to give Jace equal treatment which led to the most memorable part of the evening. I watched her reach down to Mr. Ace’s groin area and begin to latch onto his privates. She believed that she had a hold of the “frank” but the blood curdling yelp from my friend said that she had gotten the “beans”.

“YEEEEEOOOOWWWWW!” was all he could say as he did his best to maneuver his junk away from the vice-like grip of the exotic dancer. She, still not realizing she grabbed his marble bag, thought that he was afraid or just a sissy. Jace walked with a bit of a limp for the rest of the evening.

All in all, it was a very educational trip as Jace taught me the proper practice of folding a dollar bill in order for the girls to remove it from your fingers with their boobs; however, I am pretty sure (at least for this one night) that he wished the 3 foot rule that is currently in place was applicable back then.

Maybe we should have just stayed home and played Madden 2001 and threw back some brews, after all.

Pampered Chef 2: Electric Boogaloo

2006-12-11T10:34:00.000-06:00

Today is Tango Day in Argentina so in the immortal words of The Violent Femmes, “Dance Motherf#cker, Dance”! Also, Motley Crue bassist, Nikki Sixx turns 48 today, so Happy Birthday and Shout At The Devil.

Apparently, majoring in drama at the University of Texas has helped Vince Young’s professional football career. VY pulled out another game winning drive as he capped a Houston Homecoming with a 39 yard touchdown run in overtime.

This past Saturday, The School Girl, Little Harry and I traveled to the Mount for SueBoo’s Pampered Chef party. The whole gang was there with Green Machine, Hoosier Girl and the rest of G-Man’s family. The day consisted of playing records, playing video games, drinking some beer and finally getting some songs on my mp3 playing cell phone.

These Pampered Chef parties are just another excuse (like we need one) to get everyone together. The ladies were sequestered in the kitchen, check books in hand, while the men were isolated in the garage listening to tunes and playing competitive games of Cricket (darts). My dart throwing skills seemed to diminish throughout the night; however, later in the evening my teammate, G-Man, vindicated me.

At one point, we actually ran out of brews and had to make a run to the local Kroger. Luckily we were only about a block from the store. After debating over which vehicle should be taken, G-Man’s brother-in-law, B2, suggested that we walk the short distance in the frigid weather. We believed that this was the best idea; however, as we were tramping down the street we noticed that B2 had tucked tail and run back to the heated house to sit with the rest of the women! On our return trip we started quoting lines from numerous Adam Sandler CDs and laughed way too much.

The Green Machine found out that Hoosier Girl had set up her own party to take place in January at their house. As I pointed and laughed at his misfortune, I found out that The School Girl had also set up a party for February at our house. The laughing ceased at this point. Oh well, more excuses for the guys to get together and have fun.

As the evening neared its end, G-Man and I were locked in a Cricket battle with Green Machine and Big D. After we throttled them in game 1 it was announced (how convenient) that we were playing a best 2 out of 3 games. From Big D’s opening toss our team was behind. We crawled ever so slowly back into the game and managed to get everything closed except for the bull’s-eyes. Our opponents needed 2 to win and we needed 5! G-Man, always a big game player, got three real quick bulls to basically tie the game. His back must have been spasming due to him carrying me the whole time. G-Man stepped to the line for the first of his 3 throws…bull! The crowd was silent. The second toss went wide right (like most FSU place kickers do). The pressure was on. Even with the sub-zero temperatures, sweat was forming on the brows of our combatants. The third throw was poised and ready…G-Man slung it towards the board…BULL! We had won. Green Machine and Big D walked in the house with their tails tucked firmly between their legs.

Overall, with a great pasta dinner prepared by SueBoo, it was a great night. I can’t wait to do it again…next weekend.

On a sad note, we finally gave up on little Bella and reluctantly sent her back to her original home. Many sniffles and a tear or two have been shed but we hope that she can find better parents that can deal with her better.

With A Heavy Heart…

2006-12-08T13:12:00.000-06:00

A man that was a mentor to me as a child in Boy Scouts, Mr. George J. Maloney died last Wednesday. Mr. Maloney was the subject of a previous story that can be read here. I believe that along with my parents and others, he was a major influence in shaping the man that I am today.

George J. Maloney, 71, of Nashua died Wednesday, Dec. 6, 2006, at his home surrounded by his loving family.

Mr. Maloney was born Feb. 10, 1935, in Boston, son of the late George and Florence (Seaverns) Maloney. He moved to Nashua in 1952.

He was the husband of Jacqueline (Frank) Maloney of Nashua. The couple shared 49 years of marriage.

Mr. Maloney worked as a supervisor for Producers Dairy for more than 20 years and also worked at LePage’s Bakery as a regional sales manager for 10 years. Most recently, he worked at Nashua Foreign Auto, where he was an office manager for 10 years.

He was an avid outdoorsman who loved camping and was active in Boy Scouts for four decades as well as an avid Red Sox, Patriots and Bruins fan.

Mr. Maloney was active in his church as a Eucharistic minister for The Immaculate Conception Parish in Nashua.

He will be remembered for being a loving grandfather, being active with his grandchildren and for being a hard worker, a wonderful husband and a great family man who will be missed by many.

Mr. Maloney was educated in Boston Schools.

Besides his parents, he was predeceased by a brother, Leo Maloney.

Besides his wife, survivors include three sons, Michael Maloney of Nashua, Mark Maloney and his fiancée, Pamela Silva, of Nashua and John Maloney and his wife, Jennifer, of Virginia; two daughters, Sharon Sargent and her husband, Mark, of Nashua and Linda Mulligan and her husband, Michael, of Nashua; three sisters, Barbara Germain and her husband, Paul, of Nashua, Mary Maloney of Nashua and Florence Maloney of N.Y.; seven grandchildren, Justin and Ryan Sargent, Mallory and Kaleigh Mulligan, Connor, Zachary and Riley Maloney; and many nieces, nephews and cousins.

The Zis-Sweeney Funeral Home in Nashua is in charge of arrangements.

Hey You Kids, Stay Off Of My Lawn!

2006-12-08T11:25:00.000-06:00

December 8, 1980, Mark David Chapman fatally shot music legend John Lennon in New York City. Music hasn’t been the same since. Also, today marks what would be (or is) the 63rd birthday of another rock and roll legend, Jim Morrison who some theorize is living quietly in France since faking his death back in 1971. (Ok, so I’m the only one.)

The other day I traveled over to the local Wally World (Wal-Mart) to get myself a new cell phone. I was very excited as I had not been using a good phone for well over a year. My sweet Motorola flip camera phone met an unfortunate and untimely demise as I was running across a slightly busy Nash-Vegas street while expeditiously attempting to attend a Will Hoge concert.

I had my sights set on the new Motorola Sliver. This baby is sleek, has a digital camera, a video camera and plays MP3s! I was like a kid in a candy store (or Ben Affleck in a strip club!). I walked up to the cell phone counter which is located as far from the front of the store as can be. Please note that I had just gotten off of work; I was tired and hungry and cranky. Now, I am currently a customer of Cingular Wireless; however, I was no longer under contact and was ready to forgo my freedom in order to get the discounted price of my new candy phone.

I had to wrangle up a store associate as they were busy pretending to work while discussing their boyfriends and the math exam they hadn’t studied for. Finally, I was able to inform the young lady that I wanted to upgrade my phone line to the new Sliver. At this moment, the Mensa candidate felt it necessary to ask me if I currently have phone service. Obviously, if I wanted to upgrade my current line, I must have service, right? When I told this to the girl she moved on to complete the transaction as the School Girl walked away to stave off embarrassment.

The entire process only took about 30 minutes. During this time of waiting I began to participate in one of my previously mentioned favorite hobbies...people-watching. Just behind me in the aisle of the electronics department, a huge flat panel television was set up and was hooked up to a karaoke machine that Wally World was trying to sell. A group of grungy, rock and roller type high school boys had meandered over to play with the machine. I noticed that they were scrolling through the list of songs that were displayed on the monitor screen. Some songs, I assume, were newer by bands such as The All-American Rejects and other groups I do not listen to at all. (On a side note, this happens to be the CD that Little Harry wanted me to get him for his birthday last month…go figure!). The machine also had older artists such as Marvin Gaye, Dusty Springfield and Aretha Franklin. These boys, of course being uneducated musically, mocked them openly.

It was at this moment that my coolness factor was rendered to zero. I believe (in my little mind) that I have a pretty high coolness factor and can be mistaken at times for the epitome of hipness, when in actuality I am just old and pitiful. One of the young men, I will call him “The Good Kid”, scrolled through the songs and stopped on “Every Breath You Take” by 80s musical geniuses The Police. I will admit that this song can be a little weak at times; however, it is still a classic. “The Good Kid” mentioned that he sort of enjoyed this song. The other boys, I will call them “Jack Ass Kid #1” and “Jack Ass Kid #2” looked at him with puzzlement. “J.A.K. #1” then said, “Who the hell are The Police?”. It was at this moment that I finally realized a little bit of what my Dad must have felt when I tried to get him to listen to Poison or Cinderella and scoffed at any myriad of great bands from his day that I didn’t know. I hope that someone remembers to get me a walker for Christmas and signs me up for AARP.

“A Date Which Will Live In Infamy”

2006-12-07T08:56:00.000-06:00

Today is December 7th. Not everyone knows why today is significant for each and every American, not to mention almost all citizens of the world. Former President Franklin Delano Roosevelt proclaimed that this date would live in infamy when Pearl Harbor was attacked by the Japanese. I was not born until 33 years after Pearl Harbor; however, as an amateur historian I am angered, disgusted and appalled whenever I read about or see photographs of the attack. Words cannot express the gratitude that many Americans, myself included, feel towards the millions of men and women who sacrificed for our freedoms.

“Mr. Vice President, Mr. Speaker, members of the Senate and the House of Representatives: yesterday, December 7th, 1941 - a date which will live in infamy - the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.

The United States was at peace with that nation, and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with its Government and its Emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific. Indeed, one hour after Japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in the American island of Oahu, the Japanese Ambassador to the United States and his colleague delivered to our Secretary of State a formal reply to a recent American message. And while this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or of armed attack.

It will be recorded that the distance of Hawaii from Japan makes it obvious that the attack was deliberately planned many days or even weeks ago. During the intervening time the Japanese Government has deliberately sought to deceive the United States by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace.

The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian Islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. I regret to tell you that very many American lives have been lost. In addition American ships have been reported torpedoed on the high seas between San Francisco and Honolulu.

Yesterday the Japanese Government also launched an attack against Malaya. Last night Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong. Last night Japanese forces attacked Guam. Last night Japanese forces attacked the Philippine Islands. Last night the Japanese attacked Wake Island. And this morning the Japanese attacked Midway Island.

Japan has, therefore, undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the Pacific area. The facts of yesterday and today speak for themselves. The people of the United States have already formed their opinions and well understand the implications to the very life and safety of our nation.

As Commander-in-Chief of the Army and Navy, I have directed that all measures be taken for our defense.

But always will our whole nation remember the character of the onslaught against us. No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory.

I believe that I interpret the will of the Congress and of the people when I assert that we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost but will make it very certain that this form of treachery shall never again endanger us.

Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory and our interests are in grave danger.

With confidence in our armed forces - with the unbounded determination of our people - we will gain the inevitable triumph - so help us God.

I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December 7th, 1941, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese Empire.”

- Franklin D. Roosevelt, December 8, 1941

The Further Adventures of Snake and The Evil One

2006-12-06T10:34:00.000-06:00

On this date in 1917 Finland obtained their freedom from Russia thus making today their Independence Day celebration. Also, Birthday wishes go out to British animator Nick Park of Wallace And Gromit fame.

Children (and adults alike) are funny, especially when it comes to song lyrics. One example is the Jimi Hendrix penned classic “Purple Haze”. The lyric says, “S’cuse me while I kiss the sky”; however, many people have been heard uttering along with this song by belting out, “S’cuse me while I kiss this guy”. Obviously, the meanings are very different from Jimi's original intentions.

Last weekend while visiting my parents in Bama my sister, La Hermanna, called. Apparently, she was driving around with my nephews, Snake and The Evil One. Since the Christmas holiday is coming up shortly she, not unlike many other people, was listening to Christmas songs on the radio. A staple of the holiday season, “Little Drummer Boy” was playing. The Evil One decided that he wanted to get into the Christmas Spirit and sing along…"I played my drum for Him, my bum bum bum bum”. Kids are so adorable. I can’t wait to play him AC/DC’s “Big Balls”.

Johnny Storm, The Human Torch (or Tyler vs. The Zippo)

2006-12-05T10:18:00.000-06:00

Let us all wish a Happy Father’s Day to our counterparts in Thailand. On this date in the year 771, Charlemagne (my relative) became the sole King of the Franks. Today is the 73rd anniversary of the most important day in many people’s lives. This day marks the ratification of the 21st Amendment to the U.S. Constitution which ended Prohibition. Danny DeVito is thankful.

Ironically, the repeal of Prohibition indirectly affects my next story. Men historically have been known to do unintelligent things. When you think of some of the crazy stuff men have done many things come to mind: bungee jumping, drag racing, bike jumping, mountain climbing, and a myriad of other dangerous stuff. Some things do not seem like they should be accomplished until several alcoholic beverages are consumed. A night that many adult beverages were consumed is when our story takes place some ten years ago.

Back in the mid-90s, G-Man was living in the Mount with a handful of other young men. I believe that he was renting a house in one of the nicer areas of town with a few guys he had met through a former childhood friend and neighbor that we will call Tyler. Okay, so his name actually is Tyler, sue me!

One night I drove across town to hang out with G-Man, Tyler and the rest of the group. I believe I was lured there with beer and the false hope of women. I can distinctly remember consuming several beverages but I am pretty sure not half as many as young mister Tyler. Tyler always wanted to be the life of the party and this evening was no exception. You just have to picture it; Tyler was a stocky, sort of overweight guy that in high school was every girl’s friend. He could be loud and obnoxious at times but generally a pretty nice guy.

I believe that the night began with Tyler begging me to take him to the store to buy cigarettes. He had his own car; however, the engine on his University of Tennessee orange colored 1969 Chevrolet Nova was so big he needed to fill his tank every time he cranked it up. So I capitulated and watched him stagger into the local quick mart to obtain smokes and knowing Tyler, some rolling papers!

When we finally got back to the house the guys were in full swing throwing back beers and laughing uncontrollably to the latest Adam Sandler comedy CD. It was around this time that someone mentioned how Tyler was an expert in the field of Pyrotechnic Flatulence. Basically, he lit one of his farts once with his cigarette lighter. I, never one to miss a good fart burning, along with the other guys, egged Tyler on to try this amazing feat again. After much prodding, Tyler hesitantly retrieved his lighter and cleared an area in the living room.

Tyler was wearing a well worn pair of Levi Jeans and grungy white athletic socks which was odd due to his lack of athleticism. He brought himself carefully down to the carpeted flooring and laid gently onto his back. He proceeded to elevate both of his legs high above his body and reach around, Bic in hand, to his buttocks. He began grunting to force the gas that was percolating in his bowels to its ultimate exit and into history. Maybe a minute or two passed as we waited with anticipation as Tyler rocked on his back with a lit flame dancing around the area of his anus. A look of giddiness crossed his face and we all knew the inevitable had arrived. We all held our breath in excitement (and so as not to gag) as he gave that one final push. A large noise along with a puff of methane was emitted through the flame. A large burst of blue fire erupted, engulfing Tyler’s rear…and groin. He had pushed too much. His lower regions were alight not unlike a Hollywood stuntman performing for a major Sylvester Stallone movie. In fear, he began to strike violently at the areas that were on fire. Again, these areas included his backside and his testicles. Please note that for men there is nothing funnier than another man who lights his own farts. Nothing funnier, that is, except for a man who light his groin on fire while performing this stunt and has to slap the fire out with his own hand.

The flames eventually went out. Tyler only limped for a short time due to his bruised man parts. He should consider himself very lucky that he did not do himself irreparable damage to his marble bag. We only laughed at him for the rest of the evening. If I ever see Tyler again, I am pretty sure that I will try and get him to re-enact this amazing feat of skill and stupidity.

Sweet Home (Away From Home) Alabama

2006-12-04T09:50:00.000-06:00

Happy Navy Day in India…I was really unaware that India even had a Navy! On this date in 1971, the Montreux Casino in Switzerland is set on fire by a flare gun wielding "genius" at a Frank Zappa concert. This would prompt members of the rock band Deep Purple to pen their classic hit song “Smoke On The Water”. Also, today is International Hug Day so watch out, I may be lurking around the corner!

Last Friday I got off of work early so that I could borrow the Green Machine’s digital camera, do a little Christmas shopping and pick up the School Girl from work and head to Alabama. The parental units had recently picked up stakes and traversed down Interstate 65 to set up shop in Dixie. I decided it would be more convenient to visit Green Machine at his place of employment and then I was going to head out to the local bull’s-eye store (Target). One long conversation later, I took the shopping out of the daily plan. No problem there since I have three weeks until the big day (don't I, dear?).

Anyway, I got to the School Girl’s job a little early and sat in the parking lot listening to local sports radio personality, George Plaster cry about his Atlanta Braves not signing pitcher Tom Glavine. As I began to drive towards the front of the building I tapped my brakes and heard a most awful sound…grinding! Apparently, the car gods felt it necessary to wear down ANOTHER item on my car and at an inopportune time. I figured that it could hold out for the trip so we began our almost 200 mile journey as the sun was beginning to hide behind the horizon.

As we got off at our required exit into my parent’s tiny town, my cell phone began to lose signal. This normally would not have been a big deal; however, I had no idea where their house was located. Luckily after 30 seconds of silence mom clicked back in and was able to guide me towards the hacienda. The School Girl and I were amazed at the number of large homes nestled behind the local airport of the tiny depressed looking town.

Here is a look from the street of the new house.

Here mom sits puffing on another Virginia Slim 120 Menthol that I had to start bumming because I ran out of my regular brand.

My grandparents have been visiting from Florida for the last few weeks. You can see them here conversing with Uncle Marine’s wife.

This is the front guest bedroom (or my grandparent’s room). The School Girl and I stayed in the back guest bedroom but when I decided to take these pictures I was too lazy to make my bed and didn’t bother. Also, I figured mom would be ticked! Also missing is photographs of all four bathrooms and the garage.

Pops seems to be working all the time. It must be nice to be tethered to the office via a nice new Blackberry device.

Overall, the weekend was pretty relaxing as we went around the neighborhood looking at Christmas lights and managed a trip to the next town over for a nice lunch out.

The car brakes held up (even though my car sits in the driveway at home today just in case) and we had an extra long trip back to Tennessee. We had to stop in W’boro to pick up some of the homemade Christmas stockings for SueBoo (you’re welcome!).

When we got home at 10:30-ish, the heat had been off for over two days and the thermostat said 42 degrees! OMG! We shivered ourselves to sleep thinking of legit reasons to skip out on work today but nevertheless we managed to fight the traffic.

You Put That In Your Mouth?

2006-12-01T12:15:00.000-06:00

Today is the 66th anniversary of the birth of a comedic icon…we miss you Richard Pryor. I feel like going home and watching The Toy tonight; however, I will be road tripping to Bama instead. Also, today is World AIDS Day, so I guess we should wish a good day to Magic Johnson? Be sure to keep it covered today (and everyday).

So I just took my final break of the day and rushed outside to grab a quick drag on a cigarette. I am a people-watcher so I like to gander at the other smokers to see if any odd things happen. Sure enough, today I was not disappointed. I was just about finished with my Basic Ultra Light (hey, they are cheap and made by Philip Morris) when an older woman stepped through the door onto the patio. For one reason or another this woman reminds me of Florida Evans of Good Times fame.

She sauntered through the doors and found her a place to lean against the outside wall. Florida proceeded to reach into her blouse AND her brassiere. My attention was piqued at this. She snatched a long Virginia Slim 120-looking cigarette from the depths of her cleavage and stuck the cigarette into her mouth! There is definitely nothing better than a soggy, sweaty, stinky cigarette to get a nice buzz. Ladies please note that using your bras as storage just isn’t cool or sexy; however, it sure prevents people from bumming a smoke off of you.

Waiting for the Worms

2006-11-30T10:03:00.000-06:00

Big Birthday wishes go out today to Watergate Operative G. Gordon Liddy, Benson star Robert Guillaume, 80s rocker Bill Idol and sports icon Vincent Edward Jackson (Bo knows everything). Let’s not forget to mention that this day marks the 40th Anniversary of Independence from Great Britain for Barbados. With the impending snow storms, I would much rather be there.

Today, way back in 1979, one of the greatest and most influential pieces of music was made available (in the UK at least) to the general public. British progressive rock band Pink Floyd released their landmark and anthemic rock opera, The Wall.

This album has influenced millions of musicians and fans spanning multiple generations. Worldwide over 30 million copies have been sold of this Roger Waters penned classic. It was not until I went off to college (MTSU represent!) and met my fraternity “Big Brother” did I really delve into the seriousness of the Pink Floyd sound and lyrics, a reverence that I still share to this day with my buddy G-Man.

Although this album is 27 years old it still holds up against any piece of music created during the rock and roll years. The raw emotion that emanates from the mouth (and mind) of Roger Waters as he sings as the anti-hero of the album still brings goose-bumps to my arms especially when coupled with the virtuosity of guitar legend, David Gilmour. Not since The Who’s original rock opera, Tommy has a double album’s worth of rock and storytelling been so adored by music fans around the world.

Nothing since has remotely attempted such an undertaking as to meld great lyrics that tell a profound story with amazing musical sounds. Many will try and all will fail to duplicate or replicate the seriousness of The Wall. Younger generations may point to The Smashing Pumpkins and their double album Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness or even more recently to Green Day’s American Idiot; however, the odds of these albums having the staying power of The Wall is low at best.

Green Machine & Hoosier Girl’s Reception

2006-11-29T09:15:00.000-06:00

Today is the day that all gamers should celebrate. On this date in 1972, Atari founder Nolan Bushnell released the first commercially successful video game, Pong. Thank goodness that technology and graphics have gotten better over the years; although, I stink at most video games, I was da bomb at Pong. Yes, I know I’m old.

It was announced at my birthday suarez over at the Green Machine and Hoosier Girl’s house near the end of May that they would be tying the knot sometime soon. Come to find out that they perpetrated a clandestine ceremony at their homestead a mere week later. We were all very excited for them both. They decided that to allow their friends and family to celebrate their union they would throw a big shindig of fellowship, dancing and dining.

We all traveled to Springfield where the party was to be held. Of course nothing ever goes as planned for the School Girl and I. Having lived in Springfield for a short time I had no problem making my way to the fair city; however, new construction and growth made it a bit difficult to find our ultimate location. The affair was being held at a local hotel but I just couldn’t for the life of me find it. Luckily I was able to procure the telephone number and obtain directions to their (mostly hidden) establishment.

Everything else for the rest of the day came off without a hitch. We mingled with the Green Machine and Hoosier Girl families while eating from a great spread (did that sound dirty?). We hooked up with the G-Man and SueBoo and had a great time.

Here, if you look closely, you can see that G-Man, SueBoo, myself and School Girl, managed to wipe out a large portion of the food and kept some for snacking purposes.

It appears that the Green machine has been living it up and having a great time.

The happy couple decided that it was time to show off their dancing skills. Luckily “Fred Astaire” didn’t drop her, but to his credit (and ours) we hadn’t started drinking yet.

We decided that after the party we would continue the fun over at the Green Machine abode. The grins on our faces seem to give away the excitement.

The Green Machine decided that it isn’t a party until somebody does the Carlton. After viewing this picture a multitude of times, I really question his sexuality.

So after helping clean up, G-Man, SueBoo, The School Girl and I meandered over to Ruby Tuesday’s (or some other cookie cutter type restaurant establishment) and had a few adult beverages to prime the pump. We then traveled through the backwoods of northern Tennessee to the Green Machine home and partook of more brews with the happy couple and the Hoosier Girl family. A multitude of darts were thrown (not to mention a dart related injury by the drunken groom) and too many Red-Headed Sluts (a drink containing peach brandy and cranberry juice, etc.) were consumed. All in all we had a great time, per usual and already started planning future get-togethers.

Aqualung (Cam the Homeless Guy)

2006-11-28T09:31:00.000-06:00

Let’s wish a Happy Independence Day to our Albanian friends (like James and John Belushi as well as Mother Teresa). Also, Happy Birthday to our favorite political satirist John Stewart and to Pearl Jam drummer Matt Cameron who are 44 years old today.

Several years ago, before the days when the School Girl and I were married or even dating, Green Machine and I used to make a myriad of trips to downtown Nash-vegas in order to get drunk, attempt to pick up women and for just a general good time.

One fall week night (or so my convoluted brain seems to remember it) we decided to roll on the town for a night of spiriting. If I recollect correctly, this particular night the Boston based rock band Aerosmith was playing at Starwood (or AmSouth Amphitheater, or whatever it is called) and we were unable to procure tickets.

We decided to visit Bailey’s Bar & Grill located on Broadway for some beer and random shots. Nothing too significant happened that evening beyond a few terribly played games of nine-ball by me. The Green Machine generally destroys me when it comes to that but I can usually save face when a good game of darts is played. From time to time at various watering holes, tobacco company representatives will set up a table and hand out free cigarettes. I am never one to turn down free smokes so I was able to snatch up about three to four packs from the Camel girl. It was a good day because I was low and hate to pay the exorbitant prices at the bar vending machines.

Several hours later I was feeling pretty good (okay, okay, I was loaded!). We decided it was time to leave and most likely head to the homestead. While strolling down Broadway I realized that I was extremely inebriated and was having a hard time walking a straight line. Luckily I was not driving. I remember crossing one of the side streets with my goal set on the trash receptacle on the other side so that I could lean and take a rest. I managed to meander my way through the stopped cars and get to the round metal refuse bin. I leaned my backside up against the rim and proceeded to slide right off and stumble onto the busy street. Luckily, I had no injuries except for my pride.

It was about that time that I noticed a vagabond standing near us over by what was probably “his” bench. Come to find out later it was where the poor guy slept. I remember picking myself up and getting a rousing guffaw from my good pal the Green Machine. Out of drunken friendliness, I greeted the local hobo and asked him his name. He told us that his name was Cam (I guess short for Cameron). He was a very affable fellow and seemed to treat us with reverence. Apparently, Cam the Homeless Guy (as I started to call him) was out of cigarettes and was hoping that I would be able to let him have one. Now, I had my three unopened packs of cigarettes in my pants pockets. I also had a pack in my left shirt pocket which was visible to Cam; however, it only had one left inside.

I, being very intoxicated, felt it was my duty to have a good time with Cam and keep myself and the Green Machine entertained. I told Cam that I only had the one cigarette left and was hesitant to just give it away. “Show me what you have in your pockets,” I told him. He seemed a bit taken aback. He slowly reached into his grimy side pocket and pulled out his only worldly possession. “All I have is this Swiss Army knife,” he exclaimed with saddened eyes. So I snatched it from his shaking fingers and began to examine it. I told him that his knife was very nice and it seemed like a pretty fair trade for my very last Camel Light. He stuttered as he explained that this was his only knife and really didn’t want to part with it, so I handed his knife back. I tried to tell Cam that if he really wanted that nicotine fix, he would probably need to consider letting go of his pride and joy. Ultimately, Cam put his head down and began to push the Swiss Army knife towards me in defeat. Around this moment I decided that I was terribly drunk and dizzy and ready to go home so I let him in on the ruse. I pulled out my three unopened packs of smokes from my pockets and told him that I was only joking with him. I am pretty sure that he was slightly annoyed but relieved when I let him keep his knife and handed him a few cigarettes for his troubles. I bet he cursed me pretty good to his homeless buddies down at the mission that night. Words to the wise, if you ever decided to be a homeless dude, make sure that you have plenty of items to trade for cigarettes or booze or whatever so that you won’t be messed with by mean guys like me and the Green Machine.

Getting into the Christmas Spirit (Bah Humbug!)

2006-11-27T10:19:00.000-06:00

To begin, this was a pretty good sports weekend. My Miami Hurricanes beat Boston College to become bowl eligible but then they fired their coach. The Nashville Predators dismantled the Detroit Red Wings at the GEC on Saturday. The New England Patriots won a turnover filled game with the Bears and to top it off the Titans are celebrating a MONSTROUS comeback against the Giants. Oh yeah, and I finally broke my fantasy football losing streak!

I heard Bob Costas, the legendary play by play announcer, say something during Saturday’s University of Southern California / Notre Dame match up that is still tickling me. For those of you who are sports challenged, the National Championship game this year will be played in Glendale, AZ. If USC, whose nickname is the Trojans, beat the Fighting Irish they would most likely be invited to play for the title. As the game was ending with a sound defeat by the USC footballers, Bob uttered the following phrase: “The road to Glendale, AZ is paved with Trojans!” I bet he would like that one back.

With the Thanksgiving holiday over and all of the Black Friday bargains purchased, the remaineder of the weekend for many people consists of preparing their homes for the fast approaching Christmas celebration. In my house this was no different as the School Girl was chomping at the bit to commence with the decorating. Since we only have enough decorations to supply a small office building (like the BellSouth Building [Bat-Man Building] in downtown Nashville) we had to make a trek to out the new Dollar Store to obtain more trinkets and Christmas balls (I said balls!).

Once that was over (2 hours…OMG I wanted to pull my remaining hair out) I made the march upstairs to the attic to begin the arduous task of removing the dozen or so boxes from my rafters to the living room. I was actually sweating for crying out loud. Now, just to let you know, I tried to leave my complaining to a minimum since the School Girl absolutely adores decorating, especially for Christmas.

I was exceptionally lucky this year as we bought a pre-lit tree after Christmas 2005 when they all went on sale. I am; however, one of the few people who can screw this up. The School Girl read me the directions but, of course, I can see how it is put together. I managed to find the hidden plugs within the tree and unplug them and reroute them in a way I thought was proper. We plugged the tree in to test the lights and expected them to shine brightly. Nope, they did not. Amazingly, in only a few moments I was able to plug everything in correctly and we had light.

The pooches didn’t really know what to expect either. This is Bella’s first Christmas and it is old hat for Fandango. Apparently, Bella being so confused felt it necessary to let us know by squatting and peeing on our couch. Merry Whiz-mas!

Bella decides to poke around our new ornaments before relieving herself.

Fandango is one who likes to try and stay out of the way. Here he is wrapped up by some sparkly garland by someone (couldn’t have been me) as he tried to snooze.

The night wasn’t over by a long shot. Not only did the tree need decorating but there were stockings and the Nativity scene and the Christmas village. Will it all fit? It seems like we had more than ever and we managed to toss some of the older stuff. I was beginning to get stressed, as usual.

Well, due to the all of the work still left to be done, I decided it was time to smoke a cigarette and relax. I also popped open a bottle of some red wine to help the situation some more. Three glasses later I was feeling pretty stress free.

The School Girl definitely did more of the decorating work than I did. She obviously hit the wall when the wine began to flow. She decided rousing games of Ms. Pac-Man and Pole Position were in order to catch a second wind.

We got all of the homemade stockings that Momma School Girl made for us hung over the chimney. BTW, if you like them let me know because she sells them. I’m sure we could get you a good price!

Even after we maneuvered the furniture in the living room, it became apparent that the village just wouldn’t fit. So some dining room furniture got changed around as well and the village lives there. Little Miss Bella is under the impression that we put it there strictly for her enjoyment. She is like Godzilla traipsing through the town, pulling up trees and eating the people. It was a massacre!

Finally, we were able to get the Angel placed atop of the tree and call it a night. Only 4 hours to decorate two rooms! Well, my wonderful wife did a great job I think and we only went to bed sometime after midnight. Hopefully she decides NOT to put up the extra tree somewhere else after all and I just have to look forward to packing it all up after New Years!

I just pray that next year the School Girl won’t want me to hang lights outside. With my luck I’ll fall off of the roof!

A Day of Football and Food (oh and family, too!)

2006-11-24T18:42:00.000-06:00

Happy Black Friday to the crazy people who decide to go shopping on this day after Thanksgiving. Hopefully everyone had a great day of fellowship.

Yesterday was the first day off for the School Girl in almost a month as she had been working during the week at her normal 9 to 5 and the weekends at the fitness spa in W'boro. Since we were both so very tired we decided to sleep in late (we were up by 6:30-ish in the morning). Plans for the day included doing nothing, watching football (for me), making mashed potatoes (for the impending wonderment of the holiday) and gorging ourselves on the traditional late November food-stuffs.

Pretty much the early part of the day consisted of me racking my brain wondering if I had played the right guys for my fantasy football league. I know that you women out there don't quite understand it (except for La Hermanna) but you guys are all behind me. I went with a wild card in Joey Harrington and he paid off exceptionally well. On the other hand I flip-flopped on playing Mike Bell and got burned when I called Mr. Bell off of the Denver Bronco bench where he proceeded to go splat. By the way guys, the preceding football information was read as follows by the women: blah blah blah. Can you picture Charlie Brown nodding in agreement to his teacher?

Anyway, I decided that I should clean up really nice which meant removing my Scott Ian (of Anthrax) goatee. I wanted to be presentable to Momma & Daddy School Girl (the in-laws). This was followed up by a stint in the kitchen assisting my chef-like wife with the peeling and the cutting and the washing of the potatoes and the pudding pops and the sweaters (ok, so if you don't read that last part like Bill Cosby it isn't so funny).

We made the enormous trek (5 minute drive across town) to the house of the School Girl's sister (no interesting nickname available at this time) and her husband Randy Marsh. No that isn't his real name but if you have ever seen Stan's dad from South Park you have seen my sister-in-law's husband. Since Momma School Girl had to work we didn't get to partake of holiday sustenance until almost 5 p.m. and everyone was ready to get their grub on.

As you can see, we were in such a hurry to stuff our faces we almost out raced the shutter on the camera. Ok, actually it was the camera phone and they just came out crappy.

Here we see that everyone stops eating so that they can pose for a very loving family photograph. Does this remind anyone of an Army mess hall or prison maybe? Hey when turkey is involved you just have to watch your backs.

Here you see me passing everyone up for my third plate. If this was taken just a few minutes later you would have seen the Sister and I jab forks at each other for the ever-waning plate of deviled eggs. Sure they make you smell like rotting flesh when your stomach starts to reject them but man are they delicious!

We finished the night off like I'm sure every good Christian family does on Thanksgiving. That's right, we watched the Ultimate Fighting Championships on Spike TV. There is nothing better to wind you down from a furious eating frenzy like two grown 300 pound men beating the tar out of each other. It helps me sleep better at night.

Since the School Girl and I had to get up early the next day due to the School Girl going shopping and me to work we planned on going home and going to bed early. Okay, so that didn't happen either. Regardless, we all had a great time stuffing our faces once again as one big happy family. To top it all off, we get to travel to Bama next weekend to do it all over again with my family! My stomach is hurting already.

Thanksgiving 1995: Drink & Drown

2006-11-22T10:52:00.000-06:00

First of all, let’s all wish a Happy Independence Day to the residents of Lebanon. Gee, I thought Lebanon was still a part of Wilson County. Most importantly, today is the 43rd anniversary of Lyndon B. Johnson’s coup d'état against President John F. Kennedy and the U.S government. Thank you, Oliver Stone. Also, a Happy Birthday to my former teammate and co-worker, Jonathan’s Daddy.

Today is the day before our wonderful holiday, Thanksgiving. This is the day that we prepare for the day that we give thanks for all of the blessings that God (or whoever you infidels worship, if any) has bestowed upon us. Ever since the mid-90s, this has been the day that I reflect on the happenings and goings-on of Wednesday, November 22, 1995.

Please keep in mind that due to the loss of millions of precious brain cells, I must rely upon the recollections of the parties involved to supplement my very sketchy memories.

It was the day before Thanksgiving 1995 and I was recently single and looking to go out and have a good time. I had not been to too many places (clubs, bars, etc) due to having turned 21 years old only six months prior. G-Man (yes, that G-Man from previous posts) called me to see if I wanted to accompany his pal Crabb (just go with it) and himself as they were headed to downtown Nash-vegas to paint the town red (do people still call it that?). They wanted to take me to a now-defunct club known as the Music City Mix Factory. This place was a Mecca for those who loved to party, dance, drink and just participate in general reverie. If I remember correctly, there were three floors all dedicated to a different type of musical genre: dance/pop, country and the floor that we were headed, rock! Since I was heading out to show the world how spectacular I was, I needed to dress to impress. After rummaging through my wardrobe, I found nothing that I liked (just like a girl would!). I knew; however, that my Pops had a sweet shirt that would rock the town. With much trepidation, he allowed me to borrow it. “Don’t ruin my shirt,” still rings in my ears today as I think back to this fabled story.

I drove across The Mount to the G-Man’s place (well, it was his parent’s place and before you judge, I just moved back into my parent’s house at that time) where we were going to ride together in his car to Hermitage to meet up in the bowling alley parking lot with the Crabb-man. We piled into Crabb’s car where I distinctly remember pushing aside some drive-thru bags and getting an education in not-so-popular music, such as Nick Cave. I started to get hyped up for the whole excursion when it was told to me that the culmination of events tonight would be my very first wet t-shirt contest! Is there anything else to give thanks for more than that? I think not!

We finally got downtown and parked in what seemed like half of a mile away in a gravel lot. We had to cross a semi-busy thoroughfare. The lure of the neon-encrusted signage and myriad of musical sounds had me half-running to the front door! I could not wait to mingle with the “cool dudes” and sparsely dressed ladies of the Nashville club scene. We paid our fee to enter and made our way up the dozens of steps to the top floor where the rock and roll lived. The music was so loud that you could feel it in your chest as we hollered about our excitement to each other. I know that my eyes must have been like saucers when I saw the sign that prophesized my impending death! “$5 Drink and Drown”!

For you novices (like I was at that time), “$5 Drink and Drown” refers to an ulta-special promotion to get people to come out on Thanksgiving Eve and party at their fine establishment. $5.00 allowed you to receive a special arm band which would entitle the owner to drink as much beer as he could possibly drink and get your brew of choice two at a time! It seemed to me that the lights from Heaven itself were shining brightly onto this sign. The song of the Angels could be heard over the heavy metal thrashing guitar solos. I think I knocked over two women on my way to the bar (no fear, they were ugly…j/k…no really, they were pooches).

Now, for the remainder of my story, I will give you the Reader’s Digest version. Two Coors Lights down the gullet. Two more Coors Lights and liquid courage is in full effect. I managed to prowl my way around the club ogling all of the scantily clad ladies. A live band was shaking the rafters as we raised our hands in youthful exuberance. Rumor has it that your hero (that’s me) annoyed a lovely young married girl who was out with only her friends in tow. Apparently, the phrase “leave me alone” did not compute. Eventually, I was steered away from this poor woman and sat down at a large table to have two more drinks and watch the band. It was at this time that a spectacularly gorgeous girl sat down next to me that I started to fancy. In my drunken stupor, I took her friendliness to mean she really liked me. We became bar pals and talked about lots of stuff, including the up coming wet t-shirt contest. I, being very lawyer-ish, hit her with very probing questions. She mentioned how no one would want to see her in a wet t-shirt, I disagreed, saying that her boyfriend (a young man sitting next to her) would. “He’s not my boyfriend,” she exclaimed. Yea me! So we talked about the band and how great they were and I asked her again if she might participate in the contest. She said that her boyfriend, the guitar player, probably wouldn’t like her to enter. Struck down again! We all know that we can’t beat out a rock-n-roller!

It was nearing go-time for the t-shirts but something was wrong. My head was spinning out of control. I had to hold onto anything just to stay upright. I’m not sure how many beers I had that night as I lost count after 14! My stomach was gurgling and I realized in my stupor that I needed to be outside. Without letting my buddies G-Man & Crabb know, I proceeded to stumble down the steps, bumping into several people on the way and headed outside. I am pretty sure several people got burnt by my cigarette (hehe…oops!). I vaguely recall crossing the busy street (without looking either way, never mind both ways) and heading to the parking lot. I wanted to just relax and get some quiet. I searched for Crabb’s car high and low. While walking through the parking lot, without breaking stride, I hurled on a random vehicle from headlight to taillight. Somehow I found Crabb’s car.

After what seemed like hours, the boys found me at the car. I poured myself into the backseat and put my head down. I asked Crabb several times to pull over. We stopped once so that I could evacuate my overly filled stomach of some of the alcohol. Apparently there were cops at this stop. Oh well, they didn’t notice me. We finally got to G-Man’s car at the bowling alley, where I proceeded to get sick again, I believe on his rear tire…I think I urinated on it too. We got to his house where he let me know that I would sleep there for the night. I crawled up the steps and collapsed onto his bed. He came in with a trash bucket in preparation for the long night ahead of me. I think I remember him starting to tell me that there was no way I was sleeping in his bed when I yacked on the pillow and myself! “Never mind, dude, you sleep there.” I slept in the disgusting pile of vomit, still wearing my father’s prized shirt. Yeah, I know, very gross. I woke pretty early and headed back to my abode to sleep more of my hang over off. Pops was already getting the Thanksgiving spread prepared as he noticed how terrible I looked. I told him I would wash his shirt later and headed to my bedroom. I could hear the many guests arriving and was coaxed out of bed with the delicious smells of turkey and dressing. This was around 3:00 p.m. but I was still a little woozy. I filled my plate to the rim with all of the fixings and prepared to grub.

One bite. That was all I managed to consume before having to run up to the bathroom for another round of puking! Back to sleep I went. I managed to drag myself out of my room after dark to eat a small portion of left-overs.

For those of you laundry-doers, when you allow a brightly colored shirt to marinate in alcohol soaked vomit, it will bleach the garment. Much to my old man’s dismay, his shirt was ruined; however, he does have a somewhat amusing story to tell us all on Thanksgiving every year. Well this year, Dad, I beat you to it for once. It gets funnier as the years tick away. So, anyone who may be thinking that this year you would like to go get hammered the day before this Day of Giving Thanks, please think twice. I never did replace his shirt and if it makes you feel any better, I never did get to see that wet t-shirt contest.

Is OCD hereditary?

2006-11-21T10:31:00.000-06:00

Today is Armed Forces Day…in Bangladesh! Does Bangladesh have Armed Forces? If so, are they really something to celebrate?

Apparently, I have a mild form of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD). At least that is what my mom believes, and I tend to agree. Now, I would say only a slight case because, let’s face it, I am not the neatest person I know. The School Girl would probably agree with me there. I do; however, have to keep certain aspects of my life orderly. I must organize the trivial things. When I was in high school, my compact disc collection, which was extensive, all had to be alphabetized by both artist and album title. I would also keep the disc straight and free of fingerprints. Now, I have sold off a lot on my CD collection for reasons that we will not get into but I do believe my media-OCD has gotten worse.

Between the two of us, the School Girl and I have around 300 books. Yes, I do enjoy reading. Due to the amount of books and lack of book case space I am unable to keep my books in alphabetical order. I did manage to go through each and every book, put them into several different categories and put them into a spreadsheet on my computer. Dork you say? I say…maybe you are right!

Well, the dorkiness does not stop there. Our DVD collection has gotten quite sizable due to the wonderful Wally-World $5.50 DVD bin. Yes, it is a lot of trouble to sort through the throng of no-name DVDs but there is always a gem hidden at the bottom. Anyways, not only do we have a special cabinet where the DVDs live, and not only are they alphabetized but I have made a web page (that is only on my computer) where they are listed out all nice and neat. Then you can click on the movie title and a page for that particular flick comes up, complete with a photograph of the DVD cover, the stars of the movie, the rating and movie length, and a brief synopsis. This is getting bad, isn’t it?

The other weekend as I was sitting around all alone with the School Girl in W’boro, I got really tired of listening to the Titans football game. The announcers kept calling Vince Young, Steve McNair! Morons…anyway, I decided to break out a few of my old record albums to keep me from pulling my hair out when I realized that they were all thrown about in boxes and I couldn’t find anything! Oh no! Well, I am sure you are all glad to hear that I made a little web page for those too. There are not any individual album pages (yet) but I do have the years they were released. Man, I am pretty anal huh? (Mr. Minor, The Unicorn by the Peter Pan Pop Singers and The Happy Land Singers records were released in 1970, FYI).

Other people in my family have similar things that they do. For example, my little nephew, Snake, has to separate his M&M Chocolate Candies (mmm…chocolate) by color before eating them (and so does the School Girl). The same thing goes for his crayons when he colors (but he doesn’t eat them, at least that we know of). My mom, also has her DVDs alphabetized but not to the degree of creating a webpage for them. My Grandmother is a clean freak, too! Apparently, the breadth with which one’s OCD materializes itself must wane as the generations pass. Little Harry, I don’t think, has any of these traits. He just doesn’t want anyone to touch his stuff, especially his little brother. Sometimes it is just necessary to keep stuff in order.

Little Harry Potter and the Technicolor Yawn

2006-11-20T13:18:00.000-06:00

Happy Revolution Day to our Mexican neighbors to the south. It seems like everyday is Revolution Day since all of the illegal aliens have taken over, but I digress.

Yesterday, with the School Girl working in W’boro, Little Harry and I spent the day watching sports. It was a festival of NASCAR (for him) and NFL (for me). We had a great time just hanging out and talking about the ever important world of sports. We gorged ourselves on pizza and ice cream, as well as pasta. The latter is of note as it will come into play shortly.

Eventually, the School Girl arrived home. We managed to get a TiVo’d episode of everyone’s favorite NBC comedy, The Office, perused before Little Harry had to march off to bed. He mentioned that his stomach was starting to feel queasy; however, we were all out of the pink stuff or milk of magnesia. Off to bed he went, seemingly only with a tiny tummy ache. We decided that, although it was still early (around 9 pm), we would head off to the land of slumber as well.

Due to the warmth of the bedroom, I was unable to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. I decided to pick up my copy of Bram Stoker’s Dracula in hopes that I could finish it this week. I had decided that at the end of my current chapter, I would call it a day and roll over to hunt for dreams. As I got to the final paragraph, my peaceful evening was rudely interrupted.

“Dad, I just got sick!”, came bellowing up from the bottom of the stairs. I toed my slippers from under the bed and made my way to the boy’s bedroom. Now, you have to just picture it. He sleeps on the top of a bunk bed with a small ladder protruding down to the ground from about 5 and a half feet up. This isn’t too far down…not too far, that is unless you have to run to the bathroom. As I entered the room, as far as the eye could see (or at least it felt like that), was the red and white of rigatoni and sausage marinara! To say that he was sick just wouldn’t do it justice. After 45 minutes and a roll of paper towels, then a trip down to the washing machine, everything seemed okay for a nice rest. Harry claimed that he felt much better (I would hope so!).

When I returned to bed, my ever brilliant wife asked me if I left a bucket for the poor guy. I, of course, did not, fully expecting that his hurl-a-thon was completed. I have to give her credit in the fact that I did not receive an “I-told-you-so”. Yes, Mr. Harry, not being one for giving up after one try of ruining the old carpet, went at it one more time. Why is it that no matter how old children are, they can just never quite decide to move their little selves to the bathroom until AFTER the barfing has ceased? Regardless, a few hours of sleep and a few hours of cleaning sure can make a guy tired the next day. Little Harry was still a bit unwell as school approached but hopefully he is feeling better now and hopefully he brushed his teeth again!

The Continuing Adventures of Snake and The Evil One

2006-11-18T10:02:00.000-06:00

Happy Latvian Independence Day! Do you think that they have cook-outs and shoot off fireworks? They probably eat turnips and throw rocks at each other. Also, birthday wishes to heavy metal guitar legend, Kirk Hammett of Metallica, who was born 44 years ago today in San Francisco, CA.

When children are small they dream of what they want to be when they grow up. For example, I had thoughts of being a doctor and a professional baseball player. Now for some, these dreams are feasible and others are just childhood hope. With me, being a doctor was not out of the realm of possibilities, except for all of the schooling that I do not think I could ever complete. Also, playing professional ball was completely out of the question since I couldn’t throw that well and loved to back out of the batters box so as not to get plunked by an errant pitch. My two little nephews, Snake and The Evil One have similar dreams.

Now four year old Evil One has a lofty goal. When he grows up he dreams of becoming a dump truck. No, not a dump truck driver, but a full fledged dump truck. His older brother, Snake, being the voice of reason has tried on numerous occasions to let him know that someone cannot actually become a truck; however, little Mr. Evil One is not hearing any of it. I do feel it to be a tad bit hilarious, though, that the older, worldlier Snake has a more realistic goal. When he grows up he plans on attending the Jedi School so that he may fight the forces of the Dark Side. Hopefully he will do his best because as Yoda always says, “Do, or do not, there is no try!”

Sweet Home Chicago

2006-11-17T09:00:00.000-06:00

Since today is all about KP The Don, here is one of her favorite segments:

Happy International Students’ Day for all of our hippie friends who decide to put down their bongs and participate in student activisms.

Today our good friend and co-worker will toil her final day here at our major banking facility, The Trust, in Nashville before she embarks on a great new adventure. She will be heading into the great unknown of a real city, starting a new life in Chicago.

Remember to think of us when you are traveling on the trains, eating a deep dish pizza or visiting Soldier Field rooting for your Bears. We will all miss you and wish you good luck in all of your future endeavors!

Operation: Scotty The Air-Drummer & Mr. 501

2006-11-16T11:31:00.000-06:00

Today is the 30th Annual Great American Smoke-Out. I better remember to get a new pack of smokes.

Last night, Uncle Grizzly Adams and I traveled to downtown Nash-vegas to the Mother Church of Country Music, the Ryman Auditorium, to watch a heavy metal concert. I am sure that Capt. Ryman was rolling in his grave last night. Queensryche was performing an almost theatrical rendition of their classic Operation: Mindcrime album and its follow-up.

The evening was gloomy as it had rained almost the entire day but it was clearing & cool and it seemed like the weather would hold up. The Grizz and I had a few brews at Bailey’s Pub since it was only half a block from the venue. We were supposed to have Pops & Michael The Dork (or is it Turd Sandwich) with us but things didn’t work out for them, so we had two extra tickets to pawn off. Once we made it to the courtyard of the former Union Gospel Tabernacle Church, there were several people hanging about; however, it did not seem that anyone was selling or looking to buy tickets. Luckily, as we were about to give up, some guy asked if we knew anyone selling tickets and we were able to get rid of them. He was Scott The Air Drummer. Scott wanted us to “smoke a bowl” (his actual words) with him during the show, but as responsible citizens we declined.

First thing when we got into the building was a mandatory trip to the bathroom. As with any concert, there was a line out the door for the men’s room. Here we encountered “the concert drunk guy”. This guy was already tipsy and having a hard time buttoning up his Levi’s 501 jeans. Mr. 501 would be an interesting side note for the remainder of the evening.

We found our seats and man were they great! We had fourth row balcony and could see the entire stage without obstructions. I am pretty sure that there were only a couple thousand people in the crowd but it sounded like many more.

The band was loud and crystal clear and sounded spectacular. We had a great time rocking out and singing along. The funny part about the first half of the show was that Scott The Air-Drummer, the guy who bought the extra tickets, was doing his thing. He kept talking to Uncle Grizz about how well he knew how to drum on the songs and then demonstrated. He even at one point told him that if he is talking too much to let him know. Of course, he didn’t tell him that he was annoying but that is okay because he didn’t come back from intermission.

These photos didn’t come out very well since I only had The School Girl’s camera phone but you can at least get the idea.

Mr. 501 reared his drunken head throughout the show. Apparently, he was one of the biggest (and drunkest) Queensryche fan in the world. He kept jumping around, standing at the railing and singing out loud. Security had to tell him to get out of the aisle at least 5 times. It amazes me that he got so many chances and stayed through the entire show.

Here security is talking to Mr. 501 for the umpteenth time hoping that he will finally calm down.

After the band played Operation: Mindcrime II all the way through, they left the stage and the whole crowd gave a standing ovation. After about five minutes of clapping and chanting their name, the band came out to a raucous ovation. The band played two more songs while the crowd sang them back to the stage. The entire building was shaking!

Overall, the night was great even though we got caught in the rain as soon as we left the building. I finally got home after midnight and have written this three times through a sleepy haze. I can’t wait to go rocking again really soon. Maybe next time Pops can trek all the way up from Bama for it.

You’re a dump truck!

2006-11-15T08:03:00.000-06:00

So apparently today is America Recycles Day so be sure to…recycle.

As you know, my son, Little Harry Potter, turned 13 last Friday. He is an extremely intelligent kid who is getting pretty good at expressing himself. Several years ago, when Little Harry was about 3 or four years old, he had a problem. He was unable to pronounce some of his letters and sounds correctly. This is not unusual with children of this age group but it can definitely create some fun times.

I noticed one day that Little Harry was having a grand old time playing with his cars and Tonka trucks. I remember asking him if he enjoyed driving around his dump truck. This seemed innocent enough; however, he told me that he did like playing but not with a dump truck but with an ignorant person. Now this sounds odd but of course this story wouldn’t be noteworthy if he actually used those words.

Now, I found this to be hilarious because he knew he was saying something that was okay to say but it sounded like a curse word. I, being the responsible adult and father, utilized this to my advantage to make myself laugh.

I remember visiting my Pops one day when I decided to really have fun. Little Harry was sitting on his lap as my dad was doting on him and probably trying to teach him something about NASCAR. I saw my opening and I jumped at the opportunity. “Hey buddy”, I said to Little Harry, “call your Grandpa a dump truck.” My son turned and looked at his grandfather, smiled from ear to ear and said, “Gampa…you a dumb fuck!”

Aren’t children just the cutest things? At least he grew out of it and didn’t need Hooked On Phonics.

Pampered Chef Gone Wild

2006-11-14T14:28:00.000-06:00

First with the pleasantries: Happy Children’s Day in India. I guess this day was inevitable with over 1 billion people.

This past September the School Girl and I threw together a BBQ at the house that was not supposed to happen. She was hosting a Pampered Chef party at her sister’s house this day. If you don’t know what Pampered Chef is, it is like a Tupperware party but instead of plastic bowl items, they sell everything kitchen related and get unsuspecting husbands to hand their checkbooks over to their hypnotized wives. Since I had to work early that morning, I was not attending even though I would have been home not too long after it started. I had planned on just relaxing around the television and watch some football. This; however, did not come to pass.

A few weeks prior to the party, G-Man mentioned about coming along with SueBoo. He was going to have all the rugrats in tow and planned on “kickin’ it at my crib, yo!” I told the School Girl that they would be coming for some Guy Time. Well, the Guy Time experiment exploded, as I invited Green Machine and my old man. Then I told my wife that we should just have all the ladies come back after the party and we would cook-out. Of course she was a little apprehensive as we are still upgrading the homestead.

We bought what seemed like a side of beef’s worth of hamburgers, sausages and the biggest hotdogs known to man. These things were ¼ lb dogs!

So I was at work early the morning of the shindig, approximately 5:00 in the morning. I worked pretty much a full day then headed for the house. It was not as simple as that, of course, as I had to make a trip to the local Wal-Mart for curtain hardware. It seems that the School Girl decided today was the day for yours truly to hang curtains in the kitchen. This all happened at the same time guests were to be arriving so that I could direct them to my sister-in-law’s house. To make a long story short, they only partially got hung and remain this way to this very day! They are on my honey-do list…I’m sure that I’ll get to them before we move out.

Here Green Machine, G-Man, Sweet Pea (hidden by the chair) and Fandango (under chair) are starting the party early. The women weren’t around yet so we had to hurry up and get to drinking quickly.

My nephew Snake, Uncle Marine, Sugar Bear, and La Hermana are playing ball in the yard. (Ball as in ball not as in nuts or crazy?...yeah that sounds right). [see previous story]

Bella loved getting all of the attention from our many guests. We had over 20 people throughout the day and evening all having a pretty good time eating, drinking, playing games, watching football and conversing.

My Pops seemed to enjoy people-watching as he puffed on his cigar and assisted Big D in his culinary artistry.

The party went from around noon until the wee hours of the evening. I loved hanging with friends and family. Some of us love it too much as G-Man had to make room for dessert in the back yard over by my satellite dish. No, G-Man, you will never live down all of the hurling! I can’t wait until December when we get to do it all over again at G-Man & SueBoo’s place!

The Adventures of Snake and The Evil One

2006-11-13T11:23:00.000-06:00

My nephews, Snake who is 6 years old and The Evil One who is 4, find themselves in many interesting situations. Generally, the amusement stems from their active imaginations and the fact that they are way too smart for their own good.

The following story was reported to me just the other day by my sister, La Hermana.

On a recent cool October evening, La Hermana decided to bring the Brothers of Destruction, Snake & Evil, on a small outing for dinner to the Sonic in the Boro. Obviously, as with any small child, this trip to the local fast food establishment garnered much excitement for our heroes. La Hermana strapped the boys into their car seats and proceeded to ease into the heavy trafficked college town. In order to keep them focused on the impending meal she began playing a game. She started joking about the type of food they would be eating this fine day. She mentioned that they might be having a meal of chicken beaks which prompted Snake to play along. “We’re gonna have some squirrel tail!” he giggled. Pandora’s Box had been opened as The Evil One’s convoluted little mind began to spin for something to say so that he could participate in this impromptu game. “Momma, we’re gonna have chicken nuts!”

Obviously, this reply brought up the ire of my sister. She proceeded to let him know that phrases like this are inappropriate. Now, Snake, a possible future politician or ringleader of some high-end crime troupe came to his little brother’s defense. The following damage control sentence spewed from his lips: “Momma, he didn’t mean nuts as in balls but as in crazy.” Remember now that this child is six. We all know that The Evil One did not mean this as in crazy because, I mean, who can eat crazy, right? La Hermana blames other children at school, I think that it might be his uncle (oh wait, that’s me!).

On a related note, my brother-in-law, father of the Brothers of Destruction, who I have affectionately referred to here in this forum as Michael The Dork, has a complaint. Apparently, Mr. Dork takes offense to his nickname. I will change it buddy, just for you. So, dear readers, please update your records. The previously mentioned Michael The Dork will forever be known now as…Turd Sandwich.

Look what happens when you complain, Mike, I mean Turd Sandwich.

Up a Creek…

2006-11-11T14:16:00.000-06:00

I hope all of the past and present defenders of our great nation have a spectacular Veteran's Day.

Not long after the School Girl and I got married, we began partaking of outdoor activities. We both claimed to enjoy these things. On our honeymoon we drove the entire length of the Natchez Trace Parkway and even did a little camping. A few times we took outings with my sister- and brother-in-law that consisted of canoeing on the Buffalo River. I was very hesitant to participate and did much silent praying for a quick return home every time we got out on the water. I do this because canoes and me do not get along.

As a young boy, I was a member of the Boys Scouts of America. I used to love the outdoors very much, as I would go on camping outings almost monthly. I would thoroughly enjoy hanging out with my friends, building fires, sleeping in tents, etc. We would have these outings during all seasons of the year including winter. During the warmer months we would spend time near the water including lakes and rivers. I had a great time with everything we did, except, that is, with canoeing.

Now you really need to picture my Scout Leader, Mr. Maloney. As a small boy of 13 years old, Maloney seemed like a gigantic man. He was probably six feet tall and all of three bills (300+ lbs). He was not a spring chicken by any stretch of the imagination. I really have no idea how old Maloney was but I do know that he was a big baseball fan. His favorite team was the Braves…the Boston Braves. A phrase that I remember to this day because of him is, “Spahn and Sain, then pray for rain!” This refers to the pitching duo of Warren Spahn and Johnny Sain (who were very good) and then the rest of the starting rotation which was…well, to put it nicely, they sucked! Anyways, Maloney loved attending these outings with us boys (obviously since he a volunteer) and would participate in all activities, including canoeing.

Two major incidences really stand out in my mind. It is possible that these are the only two that happened and the thought that there were many more is a just a figment created by my fragile little mind. The first one happened one weekend while camping during the early fall sometime in the mid-1980s in the mountains of New Hampshire. I believe that we were camping near the Robb Reservoir. Now, the State of New Hampshire allows camping around reservoirs, as well as boating, as long as the boats are not motor powered. No swimming is allowed in Robb Reservoir either. This is due to the fact that this body of water is a source of drinking water for the southwestern part of the state. The other Scouts and I spent the good part of the late morning paddling around in canoes exploring the area. At one point, we floated up to tiny islands to pick blueberries. We would eat one, and then throw many at an “opposing” canoe. Later, after we prepared lunch, we decided that another foray in to the reservoir was imminent. This time; however, Maloney decided that he wanted to play too. It was decided that I would have the unenviable task of being Maloney’s boat-mate. We discussed it and it was decided that he would enter the canoe first then I would push off. In theory, this sounded great. The problem is that canoes are not very wide and are very unstable and to make matters worse, we were launching from a dock and not from the shore. Please remember when I tell you the next part that swimming is strictly forbidden. So, as I begin to enter the boat, Maloney was busy tying his personal floatation device (PFD or life-jacket, as you land-lubbers may call it), when all pandemonium ensued. My trailing foot must have caught on a board of the pier which caused me to lose my balance. In my uneasiness, I began reaching for anything to grasp a hold of so as not to pitch head-first into the chilled, calm waters. I was completely successful…in falling into the water…and tipping the boat…and dumping Maloney in after me…and breaking the no swimming ordinance. Ultimately, we were all fine and many people had an amusing story to relay when we returned home. Fate gave me a sign that day that I did not heed. Never tempt fate, as she always wins out in the end.

It was joked by the other Scouts and Scout Leaders that maybe I should try and earn my Canoeing Merit Badge. One year at summer camp I enrolled in the Canoeing class that would earn me my badge; however, I failed the final performance test and left camp embarrassed.

The second incident occurred approximately one year later. This time it was summer and the weather in New England was scorching. As a large group we made the trek to north east New Hampshire, very near Maine. We were going on water-water! Now, at this time I was still not fearful of the water or canoes (even though I almost drowned as a small child – thanks Uncle Roy for saving my life!). I don’t think I even respected the water. Do most young children? No, because we know it all. If you don’t believe that kids know everything, go ahead and ask one. Nonetheless, we made the trip almost up to Maine. This trip stands out because the town where we set up camp had a paper mill. Wheeeew-eeee! Who doesn’t love that sulphury goodness wafting into their nose for an entire weekend? We brought with us 2 metal canoes and many large semi-truck tire inner tubes. I decided that I would make my initial runs down the river on an inner tube. Please note that although I do not remember what class of rapid this river was, it looked pretty mean to me. I was not nervous though as you remember I know everything at this point in my life and am a little fearless and disrespectful of the river. I also, gained high acclaim as a top-notch swimmer per my summer camp exam. The first trip down the river and the entire first day was completely uneventful as far as injuries or mishaps are concerned. The run was exhilarating as I and my pals bounced around the river on these immense tire tubes. Fate did not rear its ugly head until the following morning.

The next morning was Saturday. We all traipsed to the river, chose our method of traversing the rapids and proceeded down the river. I initially was going to try the canoe for the first time with one of my buddies; however, at the last moment defered to someone else and snatched up the final tube but was promised that I could ride in the boat on the following run. The first run went off without a hitch and we all jumped in the van to take us back to the drop in point to begin our second run of the morning. I, of course, got into the canoe as promised. The water was calm at this location and all seemed right with the world. For one reason or another, I jumped into the front of the boat and waited to see who would accompany me on this second run down the mighty river.

Would anyone like to guess who walked up to my boat and parked his butt in the back of the canoe? Anyone? Anyone at all? I’ll wait…. Yes, it was big Mr. Maloney himself! Now, in my defense, I was a young boy of maybe 13 years and it never occurred to me that this situation was not looking too good. There were other adults with us that day that looked at this scenario and never thought twice about the fact the rear of the canoe was partially submerged with the nose lifted ever so slightly above the surface. Well, we shoved off without incident and proceeded slowly down the placid river. Approximately, five minutes later, the water began to rush a little faster across the rocks below the surface and some white water was splashing around.

The weather started getting rough, the tiny ship was tossed. If not for the courage…oh wait, that is a different story altogether. Unfortunately, the Harlem Globetrotters were nowhere to be found to knock some sense into us. It does seem appropriate that there was a large Skipper-ish fellow steering the boat and a young, bungling Gilligan-esque fellow in the front. So to continue, the rapids were flowing extremely fierce at this point with the waves crashing into the underside of the nose of the boat. This, of course, was the part where I was seated. It was at that moment I had realized, “Today is the day I will die”. I was not scared really. Not scared enough to cry and blubber like a child. An enormous blast of water, coupled with a large grouping of rocks hit the underbelly of our canoe lifting it nose over tail, catapulting me several feet into the air. I had almost no time to react. I remembered the survival tactics we were taught if we were to fall into the foamy water: lie on your back, keep your feet pointed in front of you, and keep your head above the water. Now the first two seemed like good advice that never crossed my mind. The last one was a no-brainer to me yet the toughest to accomplish. I kept looking towards shore as the cold water kept running over my head. I seemed to be drifting further away from my buddies on shore as they called my name. My only thoughts were on how I was going to get back to safety. My legs were cramping, my arms aching. I was bloodied from bouncing off of those huge rocks and gasping for air. Through my watery-hazed vision I saw the Scout Leaders and my friends forming a human-chain and wading into the fast moving water. Luckily, there were enough of them to reach me after what seemed like hours but was probably only 10 minutes. I never lost consciousness or completely lost my breath.

As I was coughing uncontrollably on the edge of the river, I said a little thank you prayer. I never got on the river again that weekend as you might suspect. The next summer at camp I attempted once again to thwart the canoe demons and try to earn that Merit Badge but it was all for naught. I left camp having failed a second time, never to be attempted again. My spirit had been broken, fate had won. I can’t remember traveling in a canoe again until after I married my wife. Strangely, I have never capsized since but there is one difference. I have a deep respect for the water and how fate can snatch me off of that river to show me who the boss rally is.

Teenager: A Salute To My Buddy

2006-11-10T08:15:00.000-06:00

People that share today as a birthday are Martin Luther (1483), King George II (1683), Roy Scheider (1932) - I always rooted for the shark, by the way, Sinbad (1956), Warren G (1970) and my son, Little Harry Potter (1993). Yes it is true, I am now the proud Papa of a teenaged boy!

Let’s travel back through the circuits of time and find out great things that happened on the big man's special day. This day in history saw the U.S. Continental Congress, in 1775, pass a resolution creating what would become known as the U.S. Marine Corp. Construction began on the White House when the cornerstone was placed in 1792. In 1938, Kate Smith sings Irving Berlin’s God Bless America for the very first time. The Public Television program Sesame Street, made its debut this day in 1969 as well.

Today is the day the Catholic Church honors Pope Leo the Great and is the Argentine holiday of Tradition Day.

These are all great things but I do not celebrate them. Today I celebrate my boy, my namesake, for only the 13th time. Today is the day that our family dreams of all of the great things this child will accomplish. These great things do not include the conning of classmates out of their lunch money or hacking into his school’s computer systems. Yes, these are things that the boy has accomplished but we will not mention them here…oops, too late! Here’s to the kid who enjoys reading (just like his dad), watching cartoons (just like his dad), and keeping track of all sports (again, just like his old man). Hopefully he can do much better than I did but I’m pretty sure he will. Hopefully he will give better advice to his son than, “Wherever you go…there you are!”

Happy Birthday buddy, Dad loves ya!

Boo Gotcha-Gotcha!

2006-11-09T09:06:00.000-06:00

Happy Inventor's Day to our German, Austrian and Swiss pals!

Maybe the following should have been told on Halloween but, I wasn’t sure if ya’ll were ready for this:

Some of you might have noticed in a previous posting that I talked about the ghost lady that lives in my house. I’m sure that you all just passed over it without giving a second thought to it. I made mention to her because…well, because she is real. I have a ghost that lives in the house with the School Girl and me. Now I know what some of you might be thinking. “Sure, I have heard the stories but I bet he is making it all up.” Let me assure you that this is not all made up.

This all started not too long after we moved into our house. That was January 2004. The School Girl and I had only been married about 4 months. I am not sure of the actual timeframe between the occurrences, but I will list them here as best as I can. Now our house is old, built in 1946 or so and I am sure that this adds to the creepiness of it all. The couple that we purchased our house from only lived there for about a year before they moved. That seems a little odd but now looking back I wonder if the Old Lady spooked them out. This couple bought the house from the family of an older woman that lived and raised her children in the house for about 25 years. My neighbor, the Old Man Next Door, says that her kids moved her to a retirement community but I’m not hearing that. Sounds like poppy-cock to me (I said…never mind). I have no proof but I have the feeling that either she or someone else died in my house.

Not long after we got everything set up and just the way we like it, strange things began to happen. The first thing can easily be brushed away with the fact that, again, we live in an old house. We would hear (and still do, of course) a lot of creaking sounds. The difference with these creaks and your everyday, run of the mill creaks is that they always sound like they are coming from the same place…the stairs up to our bedroom. Now, our bedroom is really just a converted attic with shoddy drywall, etc. Numerous times we have heard noises that sound eerily similar to footsteps. I get the impression that someone (or something) is walking up or down those steps. Obviously, we just started to ignore this.

Not too long afterwards, another interesting phenomenon began to occur. On top of a CD/DVD cabinet we kept a small mortar (of mortar and pestle fame) that was made of grey marble. Inside of this mortar we kept the boutonnière that I wore in our wedding. Every few days, as I would walk past the CD/DVD cabinet, I would notice that the boutonnière would be outside of the mortar lying directly on top of the cabinet. Now after several occurrences I directly asked The School Girl if she was doing this because it was starting to get on my nerves. To my dismay, she claimed to not have even touched the flowers. This seemed pretty odd to me.

We used to have a framed, glass fronted piece of art that sat on top of the mantle of our fireplace. Note the keyword here is “was”. Sitting in front of the picture were many knick-knacks and small decorative items. One evening The School Girl and I were in the kitchen preparing dinner when all of a sudden we heard a large crash. The cacophony emanated from the living room where our fireplace was located. To our dismay the large picture had come rushing towards the bricked hearth and the glass shattered into a myriad of different sized pieces. We wondered aloud as to what might have knocked it off of the mantle when we realized a strange scenario had come about. All of the small items that were on the mantle in front of the picture had remained in their original location. After investigating how this might have occurred, we determined that the picture could only have been lifted from where it sat to bypass the knick-knacks…but how could this have happened?

The bizarre happenings did not end here. I happen to sleep like a stone. Not much can wake me up so I was not conscious when my wife was scared out of her wits one evening. Apparently, in a dead sleep she was started straight up in bed when someone or something screamed in her ear. She claims that it was the sound of a woman’s voice that woke her and when she looked around there was nothing to be found. I pushed this off as a dream until a month or so later I had the same exact experience. Ok so now this was getting freaky, but beyond moving what was I going to do?

We pretty much just joke around about the Ghost Lady that lives with us as do our families and friends. At this point there really wasn’t any hard evidence such as seeing a ghost or seeing something floating around. If this was the end of the story, I would just chalk these up as coincidences. Of course, this wasn’t the end of our story.

On one of our side coffee tables in our living room is a Civil War chess board. The School Girl and I are avid history fans, especially the U.S. Civil War. I enjoy playing a good game once in awhile but mostly it is there for decoration. One evening when The School Girl was in class and I was all alone, I noticed that an opening move had been played from the Confederate side. I figured that my wife had decided to begin a game with me so I made a counter move. Several days passed without any mention of the moved pieces being made by either of us until about a week later. The School Girl asked me if I was playing a game of chess by myself because of the moved chess pieces. Astounded, I proceeded to tell her that I thought she had moved first so I countered and was waiting for her to play again. She had not touched any of the pieces!

I told some of my co-workers about my experiences with the Ghost Lady. Initially, KP The Don was freaked out of her gourd. The others, including Big Guy, Xantastic and Jefe all made jokes including that the Old Ghost Lady would dance with me and sit on my lap as I…sat on my throne! Yes, these people are bizarre! (sorry guys, but it is true).

Earlier this year, she made herself visible to me. Now, generally, my morning ritual includes waking up, uhh…sitting on the throne and then going for breakfast. Most mornings The School Girl would follow me downstairs while the HPIC (Head Pooch In Charge), Fandango (our white Chihuahua) would follow her to the back door to be let outside. This one particular morning as I was…throning, I saw my wife walk by the open bathroom door as Fandango followed her to the back door. When I exited the bathroom, my wife was coming through the door from upstairs and Fandango was sitting patiently at the back door. This surprised me because I thought that she was already downstairs. When I asked her about this she claimed that she was just now getting downstairs! So who did I watch walk by the door? Who did Fandango follow? Ok this was nuts! It was official in mind at this point. We lived with a ghost!

Now, most ghost stories tend to have something a little creepier than what I have shared today. Well, there is one more part to this story. A month or so ago, we had a little cookout that included friends and families. I had folding lawn chairs that I left on my side porch due to my extreme laziness. One Saturday, The School Girl was shopping at the local Wal-Mart and the sky was uneasy to say the least. Rain was imminent. The wind was whipping, tossing the tree branches around. I heard a clanking from outside on the side porch. The chairs had toppled over. I decided that the loss of these chairs (my mom’s), was not a good idea. I proceeded to put my shoes on and head out the front door, walk around to the side porch to bring my mom’s chairs in side. I walked up the steps to the porch, folded the chairs and struggled to carry them around to the front. Due to the age of our house, the front door is a little unleveled. This prevents the door from staying open on its own. I, of course, forgot to prop the door open. I struggled with the screen door as I was lugging the folded chairs into the front entryway. It was at this point that I stopped dead in my tracks. For the first time in almost three years, my front door swung all the open to allow easy entrance by myself and the chairs. I shook of my surprise, proceeded to walk through the doorway and place the chairs down on the ground. At this point, the door proceeds to shut with a hard bang. I could only stand in utter disbelief as I uttered a reluctant, “Thank you”. I didn’t want to be rude to the now Casparian ghost that obviously felt the need to assist in my struggles.

Now nothing big has happened lately beyond the occasional walking of the steps. I will sometimes find myself talking to my new housemate when I am alone, in hopes that she stays friendly. Hopefully this was the last of the odd happenings at my humble abode. But if you are ever visiting me, and you hear or see something just not quite right, be sure to give a hearty “Hello” to the Old Lady Ghost of West End.

The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is a joke.

2006-11-08T11:03:00.000-06:00

First of all, let’s get KP The Don’s favorite segment taken care of. Today’s worldwide holiday is a fun one indeed…if you live in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Happy St. Demetrius’ Day. Now for my rant on the Rock and Roll Hall of Shame (I mean Fame).

A hall of fame is created to honor those people or groups that best epitomize what is great in that particular specialty. There are halls of fame for almost everything: football, baseball, country music, inventors as well as rock and roll. Generally, it is a safe bet that all deserving participants of a particular discipline would be honored and represented in their respective hall of fame. This is not necessarily true; however, when it comes to rock and roll.

The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame which started in 1986 is located in Cleveland, OH. The Hall membership is determined by a vote from only a group of approximately 1000 individuals that are supposedly experts in the music business. These people are made up of professionals including academics, journalists, producers, etc. The voting panel will select nominees in categories such as performers, non-performers, early influences and sidemen. Currently, groups or individuals are qualified for induction 25 years after the release of their first record. Nominees should have demonstrable influence and significance within the history of rock and roll.
The big beef that I have is that these so-called experts seem to induct those individuals or groups that reflect their personal tastes in rock instead of a broader spectrum of the views of the overall rock fan.

Some notable artists that have been nominated and subsequently inducted are: Frankie Lymon & The Teenagers, Al Green, Martha & The Vandellas, The Shirelles, The Bee Gees, Brenda Lee, The Righteous Brothers and Prince. These artists are notable for one reason to me…they aren’t rock and roll. Sure they have proven that at one time they were able to sell records and are pretty good in their genre of music; however, it isn’t rock and roll.

Many artists who deserved to be inducted but had to wait several years after their eligibility include Lynyrd Skynyrd, AC/DC, Black Sabbath, and ZZ Top. This is very disrespectful. The worst part of it all is the notable artists that have been completely passed over by this committee. Bands such as Rush, Kiss, Deep Purple, Yes, Jethro Tull, Chicago and even Van Halen are not Hall of Famers! Granted they have thrown a bone to Van Halen this year by nominating them, but we will see if they will actually make the final cut.

Until this organization can step up to the plate and give entrance to bands that deserve to be in the Hall and look past pop stars like Prince and Ritchie Valens, then they cannot be taken seriously as a true Hall of Fame to the music that we all love. Who’s next? Madonna? I could not possibly allow myself to donate my hard earned money to this organization until they can fully take the core of true rock and rollers into their group. This seems like a facist group that can leave out who they want to, if you don’t believe me just ask Pete Rose or Buck O'Neill.

4th of July Weekend 2006 (A Photo Retrospective)

2006-11-07T12:31:00.000-06:00

Remember everybody…today is Election Day. Do your duty! (I said doodie!)

On the Fourth of July weekend, the entire Wolfpac and our spouses trekked over to the Mount for a suarez at G-Man & SueBoo’s crib. Green Machine & the Hoosier Girl were there. Also, cameo appearances by G-Man’s sister & her husband, B2, and the rest of the War-baby clan were made.

The merriment included beer, wieners (Green Machine’s fave), mixed drinks, burgers, beer, loud music, beer, a dart tourney and oh yeah, I almost forgot…beer! Lucky for us, SueBoo’s oldest, Big D, offered to handle all of the grilling activities. This of course freed up all of our hands for dart throwing, beer drinking and hell raising!

Here we are treated with MJ’s newest version of the Partridge family as Big D bangs on his bass pretending to be Jason Newsted. The leader of this pack, Sugar Bear, spins her latest tune as we all pray that she doesn’t want to hit the Lilith Fair Tour!

As you can see, Green Machine and myself have definitely NOT been imbibing even though we are doing our best D-Generation X impression.

Really? The Running Man? Here is our little Deney Terrio showing how awesome he would have been at hosting Dance Fever! Can you believe that the neighbors never once called the cops?

Words cannot express how this photo makes me feel. I’m just glad that I am not in this pic. It looks like Hoosier Girl is about to push the Green Machine down with her “Rump of Death”. See how Sugar Bear is looking on with her hands on her hips. You know that she thinks she could do better…or at least thinks her Old Man’s friends are nuts!

Here we have the School Girl babysitting little baby Bella. Doesn’t she just look so sweet? I think the sweetness was kept in a jar over at G-Man’s house as she is more like a devil dog since they passed her along to us.

Not quite sure what the Hoosier Girl is doing here. Looks like jumping jacks to me as Sweet Pea, myself and Sugar Bear look on.

We had a knock-out time (as usual). Nothing of note really happened (except G-Man hurling), due to us staying at the house, but I’m sure you know that there are stories to be told from future group outings, but better save those for another time.

A veritable cornucopia of random ruminations (or some worthless crap from my convoluted mind)

2006-11-06T11:38:00.000-06:00

First of all, let me get the worthless trivia of the day out of the way. Holidays that we could be celebrating but thank God we live in America are: Constitution Day in the Dominican Republic and in Tajikistan. Also, let’s give a rousing hooray to our Swedish cohorts who are celebrating Gustavus Adolphus Day. Chocolate medallions for everyone (look it up if you think I’m crazy).

Ok, so tomorrow is Election Day. Do not forget to go out and make your voice heard whether you are Republican or Democrat, but if you know me you know which way I lean.

On the sports front, I am prepared to eat a small portion of crow but only a small one. I did say here the other day that Tom Brady and the New England Patriots would mop the floor with the Indianapolis Colts. I really don’t think that the Colts beat us so much as the Pats threw the game away. Was I upset at the out come? Yes. Did the better team on the field yesterday win? Probably. Do I think the Colts are the best team in the league this year? Not really. Will the Colts go to the Super Bowl. I would bet no. Be assured that last night’s game will not be the final meeting this year between the Colts and Pats. If I am correct in that assumption, even though the game would be played in the RCA Dome, the Colts will not be the victors that day. I guess we will have to wait and see.

Fantasy Football is definitely misnamed as far I can see. Sure I was riding high after blazing to a 5-0 start. Apparently my 25 years of watching football is not enough to assemble an award winning team. I am currently stumbling through a four game losing streak. This was completely unexpected. I am considering putting myself in Do Not Care mode. Last week I was decimated by my brother-in-law, Michael the Dork, but the final straw was getting pummeled yesterday by my own flesh and blood. Yeah, that’s right, I lost to my sister! I lost to girl for crying out loud! If this keeps up I may cry foul. That is what good losers do, ya know!

Well at least my mighty Predators have been skating figure eights around the NHL competition, including a four game sweep on a western Canada run! I hope that the league is keeping Lord Stanley’s Cup all shined up for its new future home of Nash-vegas.

And on the entertainment front this week, I was surprised to find out that one of my favorite television characters was homosexual!

Yes, boys and girls, old Barney Stinson of television's How I Met Your Mother, playa extraordinaire, is gay. Not that there is anything wrong with that. This makes me rethink my position on people with three names; it isn’t just for serial killers anymore. They are gay too. Isn’t that right Philip Michael Thomas?

One last note, Happy 41st Anniversary to my in-laws yesterday. Wow, 41 years. That really is something. Lately, I have had a major influx of long marriages in my family. My parents with their 30th and my grandparents will celebrate number 50 in January. Having been married for only 3+ years, it is hard to imagine being married for that long even if does seem like FOREVER! Just kidding. Here’s to hoping that everyone I know can stay together that long.

Maybe I’ll need the Metamucil and Depends sooner than I thought!

2006-11-04T15:46:00.000-06:00

Happy Unity Day for the ever united Russian Federation.

I had a revelation the other day. Maybe it was an epiphany or just a major life changing thought that crossed my mind. Regardless, the proverbial light bulb went off over my head as I have come to grips with my mortality and my apparent rapid aging. Some people make this observation later in life, as I am only 32 years old. Usually, it is some life altering event that sparks the thoughts of impending doom. I, of course, am not your normal or usual character. My realization that I am getting old and will eventually die was made by just listening to the radio. Not just any radio station, mind you, but the oldies station.

When I was a child growing up in Massachusetts and New Hampshire, I remember being forced to suffer through car rides with my parents and having to listen to the local oldies station. Don’t get me wrong, my parents would vary the stations from time to time but the oldies station sticks out in my mind particularly due to the fact that I HATE THIS STATION. Many of you who are around my age will recall with utter disdain how the oldies were artists that would include the following cast of characters: Dion and the Belmonts, Chubby Checker, Bill Haley and his Comets, and my personal fave Dianna Ross and the Supremes. Words cannot fully express the depth of my hatred for this music or anything remotely similar to doo-wop! This disdain for all music that is 50’s sounding is a pure hatred that I fully expect to drag with me to my grave.

Fast-forward to today. The train is now pushing into the station for the final leg of 2006. The New Year Baby 2007 is considering sticking his little head out as Mother Nature prays for an epidural. Anyone who has been in Nashville for any amount of time during the past 200 years (ok, maybe only 35) is familiar with the radio DJ Coyote McCloud. Coyote is the guy who was playing this doo-wop crap back when it was new and has bounced around the Nashville radio scene ever since. Coyote is a staple at the local oldies stations including the current incarnation of Oldies 97. It occurred to me that while zipping through my presets on my car radio way down on the end, 97.1 was programmed in. This is impossible really. I NEVER would degrade myself and lower my coolness factor, if you will, by listening to the oldies station. I inadvertently left it on there the other day and to my surprise, the normal drivel that I associate with the oldies has been replaced. Yes, you guessed correctly…replaced with music that I enjoy! Holy crap! My head was spinning. I’m still in utter disbelief at this point.

The Platters and Four Tops have been replaced by REO Speedwagon, Tommy Tutone, Greg Kihn and Bon Jovi. I won’t even mention Night Ranger or Winger. Yeah that’s right. I am a child of the 80’s and I won’t apologize for it. My mother’s oldies have been replaced by my childhood music scene. This was a staggering blow to my youth. A co-worker the other day was singing out loud many songs from my youth and realized that these songs were very much in the oldies mentality for her. Friends In Low Places by Garth Brooks (yes, Garth, your 4 cents are in the mail for mentioning your name in print) was being belted out by my young cohort and it brought back many memories. I remembered in high school attending pep rallies for out lowly, lackluster football team, the Mount Juliet Golden Bears. We would start off many a pep rally with AC/DC’s Back In Black to stir us up and end with the feel good Garth Brooks drinking song. Very appropriate for 16 year old rednecks, I might add. Well my friends, this song was very popular back then…1990! Ok so that doesn’t seem too bad until, we do the math. Holy MC Hammer, Batman that was almost 17 years ago! I then started running through my catalog of totally awesome bands from those many eons ago: Pearl Jam, Skid Row, Alice In Chains, Metallica. Oh, say it ain’t so, Young MC. I’m friggin' old. Sure the jokes by my friends who are still in diapers have always just bounced off of my gray head and wrinkly skin but I never really took it as Gospel. Well, my fellow geriatrics, the final nail in the proverbial coffin is this…seven short days from today, my son (Little Harry Potter as my co-workers call him) will turn 13 years young. That would be a teenager. I will be the father of a teenage boy! That is it. My life is over. Honey pass me the prunes, I think I’m having a stroke. I’ll be dancing with that old lady ghost who lives in my house for real pretty soon. I hope that I can learn the Charleston. Damn you Coyote McCloud, damn you!

NFL Week 9 (or Peyton vs. Brady)

2006-11-03T09:12:00.000-06:00

Happy Independence Day to our friends in Panama.

Yippie! The week is finally here. Fans in New England and Indiana have had this coming Sunday circled on their calendars forever!

Sunday is the (almost) semi-annual meeting of the Patriots and the Colts. Ever since Tom Brady started his first-ever NFL game this match-up has been something special. That game which was week 3 of the 2001 season (a season that will live in the hearts of all NE fans for life) saw Terrific Tom and the Pats crush the Colts 44-13 as Pitiful Peyton threw 3 picks and two for TD’s! It has pretty much been more of the same year after year.

So this year, the Colts are undefeated at 6-0 and the Patriots had their one hiccup at Denver (5-1). Their passing game had been weak with the losses of their two big receivers from last year. With a reinvigorated running game due to the addition of Lawrence Maroney and young receivers finally getting into their own, this week’s contest looks to be a slugfest! But, who are we really kidding? Does Tom Brady and his crew have a legit shot at derailing the destructive Colts?

Let’s be serious, Peyton almost lost to the Titans for crying out loud. Hear this now, I proclaim from up on high today that Peyton and his band of bungling idiots will be crushed! Sure Peyton can throw touchdowns. Who really cares about touchdowns though, if you don’t bring home the hardware? When judgment comes and the historians rate the great QB’s of our generation, they will mention Mr. Manning in passing; however, they will count up the gold and platinum and diamonds and will go blind from the glare of the NE football saviour we know as Tom Brady…and that is Mr. Brady to you (Hoosier Girl).

Happy Halloween?

2006-11-02T09:49:00.000-06:00

Happy All Souls Day or Día feliz de Los Muertos (Day of the Dead) for our Mexican friends.

Two days ago was Halloween. This has got to be one of my least favorite holidays. It is basically a children’s holiday that has gotten out of hand. I do not enjoy the decorations…I do not enjoy the fact that the kids cannot Trick or Treat without having their parents inspect their loot…I do not enjoy dressing up. I do; however, enjoy watching the little kids waddle around in their costumes. If I remember correctly I was not a huge fan of this day even as a child. Don’t get me wrong, candy is great but free candy is straight from Heaven! My wife, The School Girl, seems to get a kick out of it so I pretend a little. Every year we decorate a little with some things around the house and of course we get the obligatory pumpkin for carving, etc.

A few years ago the School Girl dragged me to a party of adult merriment on Halloween. Of course it was required that a costume was to be worn. I dreaded it for weeks. I could not come up with a legitimate reason for skipping out and we attended as a king and queen (no, a picture of this WILL NOT be posted here). Maybe I’m just too high strung and grumpy but the best part of the night was when we headed home, even if we had won the Best Costume award. As adults, we refuse to let go of our youth. I knew that my brother-in-law, El Capitan, a man who has spent two tours in Iraq and is scheduled for a third next year, would agree with me…

Ok, so maybe I was wrong. Well maybe it is a little fun…or at least a little funny. Maybe next year we can have a party and I will dress up…but only if we can do shots! LOL!

My Birthday

2006-11-01T14:05:00.000-06:00

So, at the end of May, G-Man & SueBoo and The School Girl & I all traveled up to damn near Kentucky to visit with The Green Machine & Hoosier Girl and see the new house. We celebrated the holiday (Memorial) and my oldness (is that really a word?).

Here me and G-Man practice some of the talents that have made us icons (in our own minds, anyways!)

Hoosier Girl found it funny that she got me prunes for my birthday! I can't help it that I'm old.

Green Machine is partaking of his favorite pasttime...handling weiners!

The School Girl, me, Green Machine, G-Man and SueBoo posing on the front steps of Green Machine & Hoosier Girl's new place. Can you tell that we may be feeling pretty good?

So Green Machine, the theme of your pictures is weiners I see. Really, what would you do if you actually got your hands on it bro?

Ok, so Green Machine is running about 8 months prego and man did my nipple hurt!

Ok, so our women can't keep their hands off of our nugget pouches or marble bags or whatever you want to call them!

All in all, we had a great time of drinking, eating, drinking, playing basketball (poorly I might add) an did I mention drinking? If we had that much fun at my 32nd B-day, what is in store for next year?

First time...long time...

2006-11-01T13:32:00.000-06:00

I'm just testing this out. Will I like doing this? I guess I will soon find out.