C'mon, get happy!

What?! It's been over 2 years

2010-05-20T23:51:00.002-04:00

What the heck happened?? I mean I know that with the promotion and all my attention was quite work-centered, but boy to lose touch like that.....

Okay.... here goes:

Friend update- Things back in '07 looked pretty good. The healing was progressing, and as of this date he has quite a bit of dexterity with the thinger now called his thumb. Of course, that was 2007. Fast forward to October 2009 and there's a spot on his chest x-ray (for cancer victims, or at least sarcoma victims, the chest becomes the barometer/litmus test for a recurrence.) Because his primary oncologist was in India for 3 weeks for a family wedding, the waiting began. And- because of insurance- the preference for care was here, rather than the University where all his care was delivered up to that point, the waiting continued. FOR SIX MONTHS! So, yeah, surgery was necessary and finally took place early April, and of course they took out a pickle-sized sarcoma that was resting on his aorta and the nerves leading to his larynx. The scary part was the surgeon stopping by and being surprised that he could still talk. I guess that nerve is very sensitive, so okay, miracle again.

The part where faith comes in is that the oncologists (as well as something called the "sarcoma board") all agree that no chemo/radiation will take place. This is due to the fact that evidently there are only 3 types they give for his type of cancer, and he had two of them during his original treatment so they don't feel trying it again would be effective/worth the cost to his health. They also feel that they got all of it, so for now there's no need to do radiation. So.....this means there's not much to do but wait and keep getting x-rays. To me, that would just suck.

OTHER THINGS
Hey, Michigan's economy is in the crapper and I'm no stranger to that fact! Last October my sweet relationship with my employer came to an end (I really thought this would be the one!)
No worries, no worries! I'm a co-ed again. Took the plunge, going for total career change. Juuuust a little bit anxious as I walk that road, but that's me.

Jeez- the kids! They keep growing and growing. First blood is 15, working on getting the driver's license and now wears a size 15 shoe (hold the applause, please.) Number 2 can't wait to become a teenager, and aspires to be a fashion designer living in Paris. It's nice to have dreams.

Wifey still suffers from FM, I really wish she would take better care of herself and help keep it at bay. Surrendering to it and ignoring the depression is not working.

Lake Michigan is still the holiest water on Earth, although it is threatened by Asian Carp making their way from the Mississippi to Chicago. Sadly our President can't say no to his Chicago politicians and the most effective means of protecting the Great Lakes (closing the locks) is still off the table. So it's still in the hands of that crack staff at the Army Corps. of Engineers (the fine folks that put New Orleans under water.)

Still have a JetSki, but this one's SUPERCHARGED! Speed thrills. It just does.

Don't look now, but it's an update

2007-09-18T23:41:00.000-04:00

Wow, has it been TOO LONG.

And you have my apologies.

How's my friend doing? JUST DAMN AWESOME. Although he did lose his thumb (too little bone remained after they took the biopsy) his prognosis is excellent. And due to the miracle of surgery, he isn't out a thumb- they moved his index finger over so he has a thumb again. It was a bit scary for a number of months as it was not showing any signs of growth where the bones come together. Finally, it's just growing like a weed. Thank GOD, Yahweh, Muhammed and Tiny Tim, too.

School started, but we didn't do the annual take-the-children-out-for-breakfast-on-the-first-day thing because Favorite Son starts at 7:25 now.

MSU is 3-0. UofM is 1-2. ND is 0-3. Tigers are not looking very good right now.

OUR KITCHEN IS IN SHAMBLES, and our house is full of dust. This hopefully will be over in 3 weeks if everyone stays on schedule.....

A position I lost-out on late last fall opened again because the loser couldn't handle it after 6 months. And I got the position. Now I wait for my replacement to be hired, then jump into damage control because the loser was a total hack and fouled up nearly every thing he touched.

Speaking of work, I traveled to Japan for a few days in May. Too short a trip, but it was a once-in-a-lifetime trip (due to late bookings: FIRST CLASS.) Oh, the spacious skies. I don't mean to be a prick, but I'll never see that part of an airliner again so let me gloat for just a moment.

Lake Michigan is still the holiest water on the planet. It's good medicine.

My Jet-Ski won't start. Wanna buy it? Let's make a deal.

My friend's wife filed for divorce. On his birthday. I think she's having a mid-life crisis, but unfortunately she's now going to subject her daughter to divorce for a second time and since she's 13 and entering middle school, well, you be the judge on how that will impact her.

I want to surf. Or that stand-on-a-surfboard-with-a-long-paddle thing.

Love you all. Gotta run

So THIS is what the 3rd snowiest February looks like

2007-03-10T21:57:00.000-05:00

Photo taken by Favorite Son on his sick day home from school. Not a bad job, I must say.

Happy Day

2007-03-05T01:59:00.000-05:00

It's been too long since a new post, so here's a weeks old picture of my good friend's li'l cherub.

That's Favorite Daughter holding him. I have a much better picture, but I'm not real keen on identifiable pics of my children on the internets. Now, don't go looking at me in the way you might look at Dan Akroyd in full "Sneakers" regalia; there's plenty of freaks out there and I'd prefer my kids don't meet them. You'll get over it, trust me.

Anyway, she was positively GIDDY at the experience of holding a real-live baby instead of one of her many many dolls. And that's notwithstanding the fact that, due to his pre-mature birth, he's smaller than many of her dolls. Or at least he was at the point this picture was taken. He's now putting away 4+ ounces each feeding, weighs over 7lbs and has grown an inch. Yup, he'll be palming a basketball any day now......

And just when we thought Winter was taking the year off, we go and have the 3rd snowiest February on record. . . sheesh! But I can't complain, I can't imagine what those poor folks in Oswego, NY must be doing with all their snow.

TTFN, and be safe. All of you~

It wasn't me

2007-02-12T22:38:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I can look quite handsome, you might even say "princely". But make no mistake about it: I did not have sex with that woman, Ms. Smith.

And what's up with the Grammy folks? 5 for the Chicks? Have you actually LISTENED to that stuff? I mean come ON! How political can this be? For a second I thought I was watching the CMAs or somethin'. What are these awards for again? Courage, or talent? I thought it was for talent. These are the Grammys people, not the Nobel Prize, or Carnegie Medal for Heroism. Let's get our priorities straight and recognize talents, not just gutsy nuts from Texas.

Record of the Year? Maybe. The nominee list wasn't that strong, and "You're Beautiful" wasn't really James Blunt's best effort.
Album of the Year? No way. I'm sorry, but the rest of the pack simply blew this one away. All the Chick's tracks were consistently nasal and droning. Gnarls showed a ton of creativity, the Peppers featured an amazing number of hits from it's two (not one, count 'em, TWO) disc set.

I just don't get why they continue to try to award things in the most outlandish way they can. And another thing: could someone please explain to me how Gnarls Barkley is now "alternative"? Wha?

I have a cold.

Slowly

2007-02-04T23:30:00.000-05:00

My good friend's baby came home on the First of this month. It took almost two whole weeks, but he's finally home. That's just so good to hear.

His chemo developed a complication last week, his kidney function is down and they couldn't give him the more-potent half of the two drugs he's getting. Now it seems they are going to abandon that drug and change to a different one for his next treatment in two weeks- one that will require him to now be at the university hospital for three days of treatments rather than two. And because they scheduled him to start at 7am, he's gotta be gone for three nights, too. It's so sad to see this with the new baby at home- he would just rather be there.

On another front, big scare at home tonight. It's quite bitterly cold outside and wifey has been wanting a fire, as well as favorite son. After getting back from shoveling GF's drive, and also clearing out the present from the city plow truck at the end of mine, it was time to get back inside. Anywho- paper was wadded, kindling added, flue opened, starter torch seemed to start drawing just fine so the papers were lit.

Slowly, smoke starts rolling.

Doors close.

Smoke still rolling, fire starting to slowly grow.

Press on doors (as though there's some sort of weatherstripping there.....doh!)

Marvel at all the spots smoke is pouring out around closed doors. Thinkthinkthinkthinkthinkthinkthink THINK! Think about all that snow we've gotten and how much might be plugging the top of the chimney. Think about how many candles are gonna have to be lit to clear the thickening air throughout our house. Think how little that lone bathroom vent fan will do to help clear the air.

Marvel again at the condensation on the inside of the fireplace doors, the flames still surviving through all that smoke, the sound of a snow plug falling nearly two stories down our chimney, the agonizingly slow clearing of the air in the fireplace after a good draft starts......

It was well after halftime before all the windows were buttoned up tight. I think it was about two degrees outside at that time.

Sorry, but Happyness is threatened

2007-01-20T20:49:00.000-05:00

Awright, I'll be frank with ya. I'm pissed. You know my old friend, "C"? The one that took Bob's Mary, my Aunt, Sharon's Joe, Bart's Lois, Bill's Lois and Wifey's co-worker? Gol-danged junk is back. This time it's now dropped by to visit my friend's life. Started out as just a bump on his thumb, turns out to be osteosarcoma. What's worse, the diagnosis was confirmed just after Christmas and on top of that he and his wife were expecting their first baby at that time. All that promise during that time of year balled up into a wrenching ball of fear and unknown.

They had the baby yesterday, and Lord willing it will be home in a week (it's a bit of a preemie due to a run-in with gestational diabetes and pre-eclampsya.)

It's just hard to see him go through this. He's only had one treatment and it wiped him out for over a week. Give me the strength to put my fears and emotions aside and be there in any way they need.

Christmas Eve Eve

2006-12-23T22:39:00.000-05:00

The coolest thing: A little fire is in the fireplace, a chill in the air outside, the unfortunate pitter-patter of raindrops on the porch roof can be heard. Daughter cuddling by the fireplace decides it would be more comfortable to have a pillow and a blanket so she scurries upstairs and then cuddles some more.

Finding that too much time on the floor gets a bit uncomfortable, I retreat back to a couch and my laptop (HI!) as I am ripping some classical music from a bunch of CDs. Upon my next glance over, Daughter (she's 9 years old now) has set Rebecca, her American Girl Bitty Baby, on the hearth so she can enjoy the experience also. For some reason, it has touched me immensely. She's growing up so fast this year, for the first time without her brother at the same school. She's debating about the reality of Santa Claus - all the rotten neighborhood kids insist he's not real - but I think she's still got some doubts about their position on the whole thing. Son claims to be undecided, but he's 12 years old and although he and I haven't discussed it I find it difficult to believe that he still hears the sleigh bells. I think that he knows how much trouble there'd be if he spoils it.

Are we hanging onto their youth too long?

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

2006-10-30T22:49:00.000-05:00

And the heck with all you "Fall Festival" revisionist people. BOO!

A Crossroads?

2006-10-29T10:44:00.000-05:00

Updates:

Loving the new Dell E1405 DUAL CORE! It rocks, soooooooo much faster than my old e-machines. Plus, it has yet to shut itself down due to overheating. In fact, I don't think I've heard the fan get past a low hum yet.

What else? Hmmm....... School this year is difficult for our son. He's at a special 6th-grade-only school that is quite aggressive from a homework perspective. 2-3 hours of it every night, as well as weekend homework. I don't know if I could have done it, and at times he's questioning his decision to apply for this experience, but we know he's better for it. He does too, but it's hard to see him struggle and doubt, especially amid the developing angst of pre-pubescent 6th grade life. Although, today it seems that maybe 6th grade isn't pre-pubescent any more.

On the flip-side, our daughter is suddenly flourishing in third grade in many subjects that had been a struggle for her. Even though she misses having her brother at the same school, she gets to enjoy the experience of being a "trusted messenger"; delivering messages from former classmates who continue to attend school there.

We're looking at having our kitchen remodeled. The project manager proposed a much grander redo than we had envisioned, clearing and re-doing half of the first floor and $60K at the same time. Um, hello? Like Matisyahu says: Chop 'em down, chop 'em down.......

Baseball: Oh, how I wish the Detroit Tigers would've remembered their bats for the World Series. But it was nice to be blessed with the opportunity to attend the final game of the ALCS where they swept the A's.

This guy pretty much sums up the excitement that roared through the stadium after Maggs hit that wondrous home run. It was such an experience, I hope to never forget. Bless you boys, and do it again next year.

So, what's this crossroads thing about? Well......it's not you, it's me. Throughout our life together, Wifey has had plans for what parenthood and motherhood would be like as our children grew to the teenage years. Her goal was to be able to work less and be home more to have a greater presence in their lives as they navigate the treacherous waters of the Teenage Sea of No Tranquility. Over the past few years she's been able to be home as they get out of school, removing the need for after-school daycare. There's been numerous benefits to this, and it just seems right. The thing is, it's hard to say if it will continue as it has so far. The irony here is that it might be me filling that role.

Over the last seven years, her career has flourished while mine has not. She has been promoted twice, serious promotions nearly doubling her pay. I've been "promoted" once. The new title kind, with a slight pay raise. My five year plan with this company is now at seven and counting, with no change in sight. We've invested heavily in increasing staffing in many supportive functions, but not one additional person has been added to sales and there's been no turnover/dismissals above me. Not one opportunity to advance. For whatever reason, our Leader feels it is not necessary to increase sales staffing. Now there is a new manager that's been brought in from the mother ship, and while not officially credited with being the next Leader, everything seems to be falling in line as though that's the plan. Up to this point we in sales have been insulated from him as we still are directly under the Leader. The new guy, I fear that some of the moves he's made spell doom for me. You see, he's gone outside the company for a number of hires under him. He seems to favor change for change's sake. He's an elitist that feels that those above my level shouldn't interact with those on my level. And he's never been interested in what we do or how we do it. Yet, he's being allowed to make decisions that affect us, and seemingly about us. And now, some changes have been made above me and there's an opening. Good news, right? Except resumes are going to him and not our Leader. So all signs point to the decision being his to make, and if history is indicative of his plans, then he will go outside the company to fill this position regardless of the experience the current staff offers. To add insult to injury, a co-worker left recently, and although the head-count will be maintained the new person will not be doing any of the work that HAD been done by the previous employee. That work will be split between myself and another coworker. I'm not sure who to thank for that plan, but again I feel the outsider has his fingerprints all over it. Who better to make such an uninformed decision?

So, if the gods don't smile upon me as I interview for the newly opened position above me, I will have quite a mess on my hands trying to keep up with the huge burden of 50% more work to do when I already work until 7 or later many days during the six-month span I call the "busy season."

Contrast this with the reality that Wifey's doing quite well, loves her job, and they love her. She makes quite a bit more than I do, travels far less than I do, and overall just seems to be in a much better position-- even if things didn't work out for her at her current employer. She has a tremendous network of contacts both locally and nationally, while mine are spread about the nation. As our roots are here in Michigan- and here is where we want to be- it seems that again she's in the better position professionally.

As I struggle to work out the path that I'm on, the idea of me taking the role of parent-at-home crossed my mind recently. The traditionalist in me scoffed, but I did mention it to Wifey. And she said "I'd support that 100%" or something to that extent. I was floored. Did I open Pandora's box?

I think psychologically I have quite a bridge to cross before I could do it. We both come from what I deem "conventional" families: two parents, with Dad being the major bread-winner although both of our mothers were employed outside the home. Doing this would therefore be quite "unconventional". Why is it that "stay at home mom" sounds right, but "stay at home dad" does not? It's difficult to overcome the feeling of being a "failure" for not being the bread-winner (so I guess that makes me a sexist,) and I have my doubts about my abilities to be a good househusband. Although I can hold my own in the kitchen, Wifey has far superior skillz in that area. This would mean quite a change in our standard of living, and our finances would need to be much more strictly managed. Maybe I'm just making excuses in order to avoid it. A man I once worked for told me long ago that being a housewife (thus, running a home) is the toughest job on Earth, and I believe that to be true. Needless to say, I am quite conflicted about taking the role of homemaker.

It's natural to fear the unknown, to fear change. And boy, would this be a heckuva lot of both.

Out of commission

2006-08-01T23:35:00.000-04:00

Ouch!

For Sale: 4 year-old laptop. Overheats. Soon-to-be reformatted hard drive. Make offer.

Lesson learned about backing up files.

New Dell on order (sorry Apple, I just couldn't do it.)

PEACE!!!!~~
E.T.A.: BTW, it's 86 degrees outside right now. Melting...... (Really enjoying The New Pornographers' tunes right now though)

HNT - Resistance is futile

2006-07-13T01:08:00.000-04:00

Everybody else is doing it, why not me? Yup, it's that incredibly hot internet beefcake trend: HNT. Otherwise known as fun with vacation photos.

From goofy to just plain weird. At first I thought this was just a wild looking cloud formation, but it's really one cloud's shadow on a cloud above it (it was almost sunset, hence the really odd lighting angle.)

Man, if this doesn't get you thinking back to college and things you might have smelled or inhaled (Thanks Clinton.)

Peace out, man~

The Ending I Never Expected

2006-06-22T00:45:00.000-04:00

Tonight closes another chapter in the story that is life in our neighborhood.

A few months ago I helped move our next door neighbor into a care facility where he could be near his son who suffers from Cerebral Palsy and no longer concerned about what if he were to fall again at home. At that time, one of his other sons was still living in the house; a matter which was surely going to be complex to resolve for the eldest son who has power of attorney and was intent on getting things minimized. The situation developed as expected early-on; with offers of arranging and providing other housing for his brother ultimately refused there was then an eviction notice, cable turned off, etc.

A second notice was given and things were seemingly progressing along, and reports from Knowledgeable, Concerned Neighbor that he was going to move out. It was never clear to me as to "when" that would take place, just that it was considered certain and cooperative. That was a relief to me, as we were not alone in our concern over having him nearby. He seemed out of touch, his stories were difficult to believe, and we didn't care for the abusive way he interacted with his parents (Although, I must admit that in the time since his father moved out, he has been exceedingly nice whenever I saw him outside speaking with his father. Even one time letting me know that a piece of trim from our vinyl fence keeps falling off...) It seemed as though he wanted to stay, as if tripping over himself to be kind would somehow negate the need for his fathers affairs to be tidied up.

Fast forward to this evening, it's Wednesday night, which means it's golf night. I've been inside about 15 minutes and my cell phone rings with a call from home. It's a bit boisterous inside and I can hear my wife, but it's hard to tell if my signal is breaking up, her voice is breaking up, or I'm hearing things. Once outside, it's clear that there's a problem and I need to get home.

She was with Knowledgeable, Concerned Neighbor (whose husband ALSO wasn't home, I feel so bad!) Evidently today was to be move-out day, and his friend who was going to help with the move was unable to reach him all day. His father called our neighbor and asked her to help him check on things; she in turn called Wifey to see if she would help also. Wifey thought it best if the police were brought in as well, so once his father arrived they discussed this with him and he agreed. Thankfully, the officer went in alone and was the one to find him. The indications are that he ended his own life.

It is saddening on many fronts: that the father has to experience this at his age, that he has to experience it at all, that- once again- all the unknowns that stack up and lead one to think the dark thoughts successfully weaved their way through his life to become a web of despair he could no longer sweep away, and that it happened next to my home and my children.

Wifey did a good job of sheltering the kids, but my daughter is such a curious thing I worry about what she may have caught sight of. Did she see the father? Did she see the officer? Did she see the concern in their eyes? Did she see the growing number of neighbors and friends arriving to console the father? How will I ever know? You can't just ask about it, that would bring attention to it- and she's so brilliant.

I'm troubled too at how the officer found him. Evidently he was prone to sleeping in a recliner, but he was found lying on the couch, covered head-to-toe with a blanket. It helps if I think that he didn't want his father to see him that way, but the tormenting thought is that even in such despair there is that moment of compassion and lucidity as to cover himself as he seemingly drifted off.

A very weird thing is that they can't find his keys or his wallet, and his car is locked in the garage.

There will be many things the family will have to deal with- his elder brother is blaming himself for this, his son came and shared tears with grandpa tonight. The aftermath will surely be long lived, and I pray that they all get the support, understanding and love that they need to cope with what has happened.

Holy Jayzus, where have I been?

2006-06-17T01:28:00.000-04:00

Honestly, the plain old, filthy truth is that I've been right here, but wallowing in self-pity at how busy I feel.

Maybe it's not busy, rather more like tired. The kind of tired that makes you want to sleep as soon as you get home. Depression? No, can't be. What do I have to be so depressed about? EXACTLY! So, it's not depression. One of the gifts of ADHD is that you're terrible at recall. So don't ask me to make a list of what it is that's had me so busy.

A bit of travel (OK, ONE trip to Charlotte, NC.) Spring soccer. Spring concert. Spring-klers. Yup, putting that total sign of surrender to forty-something in my lawn, a full-blown home-grown-homeowner-special sprinkler system. I'm too much of a cheapie to pay full price, so a friend helped me pull the lines and I've been playing "Digger" for two weeks. The good thing is all I have left to do at this point is wire to all the valves and then she's fully auto-magic.

The same friend (Life Long, at that) has been working on finishing his basement, so I've put some time in over there.

Wouldn't change any of it for ther world. . .

Word of the day: adduce

2006-05-01T09:44:00.000-04:00

For those fans of Dooce's blog, I offer today's insightful (if not humorous) Word of the Day from the fine folks at Merriam-Webster:

The Word of the Day for May 1 is:

adduce \uh-DOOSS\ verb

: to offer as example, reason, or proof in discussion or analysis

Example sentence:

"Leon has made some pretty strong accusations here tonight," said Tim, "but he has adduced no convincing evidence in support of them."

Did you know?

We won't lead you astray over the history of "adduce"; it is one of a plethora of familiar words that trace to the Latin root "ducere," which means "to lead." Perhaps we can induce you to deduce a few other "ducere" offspring if we offer a few hints about them. One is another term for kidnapping, one's a title for a British royal, and one's a process of abridging or consolidating something. Give up? They are "abduct," "duke," and "reduce," respectively. There are also many others, including "induce," which means "to persuade" or "to bring about."

Once a month, like it or not

2006-04-12T04:36:00.000-04:00

So, you've all been busy I see. Good.

Me too. Sorry there's been no updates here, I comment more than I update. Is that like saying "I like to watch" ? b/c that's not what I mean. Maybe it's a perfectionism thing, if I'm just commenting here and there, who cares? (Except for the poor folks whose blogs I'm littering all over.) It's just that there are so many spectacular blogs out there and I feel that mine is just a bit more like a diary sometimes. I don't have a lot of web skillz, but I am a good student and could figure out a lot. If only I had the time. Plus I'm too cheap to sign up for a Typepad account so I can give my blog a catchy web address. Meh.

Whazzup? Lessee, last month Annie turned 40, I hope. Who's she? A girl I went to school with for grades 1-12. I don't know why, but I can always remember her birthday (March 7). I never really had a crush on her. Maybe it's an Oedipus complex derivative. Her mom was one of my favorite teachers in Junior High. She didn't take shit from anybody.

Last month I also turned 40. Huzzah. Birthdays don't seem fun anymore. At least not this year. Wifey had my birthday 4 days early on a weekend because The Boy and I were headed out West to go skiing later that week and it would probably be too hectic.

Man, was she ever right.

Wifey's father had a quintuple bypass two days before we left. He needed an annual checkup, and part of the process is an *ahem* "internal exam". Well, at his age, before they give you that special treatment they want to make sure you're tough enough so they also give you a stress test to make sure your ticker is up to shnuff. He failed that, so they wanted to do a heart cath. They did that on Tuesday, and said "You're not leaving, you're having an emergency bypass tomorrow morning. Make things right with your maker." You can imagine the alarms that type of situation sets off. Wifey left early that next morning, so how to get The Girl to her after school let out for Spring Break? Thankfully, her friend was headed in that direction so that part worked out.

Grampsy did well at first, got released from the hospital after 4 days when it was expected that he'd be in for a week. Three days later there were numerous complications so he's back in, but making some progress. But here's the kicker: in 2 days nearly her entire family (ours included) leaves for Ireland. On a trip that Grampsy requested two years ago. In honor of their 50th wedding anniversary this year.

He can't go.

In the night before the bypass, he and Nana talked and decided that we all should still make the trip without them. I say "Bully!" but since I'm outside "the circle of trust" so-to-speak I can't really voice an opinion. It just doesn't make sense to me to take the trip; it was his idea, his wish, to go in the first place. He should go, so the trip should be postponed. Plus, I fear that things will take a turn for the worse while we're all over there as some of the complications point to congestive heart failure. Since we went to Colorado, The Boy has not had a chance to visit Grampsy yet, and I'd hate to have the worst happen without him having a chance to see him just one more time as The Girl got to see him since she was there with Wifey. What to do?

So, Colorado was fun. Nebraska was great on the way out, it was dark the whole time we were driving through so there was no wind. Payback was on the way back, of course. But the wind was slightly at the tail so it was manageable. The weather while we were there was nice, maybe a bit too warm and slushy at the base but we can deal with that. We got a bit of snow on Tuesday, but the real stuff greeted us on the morning we left to return:

Is it difficult to see why I didn't want to come back? SERENITY NOW!

G-zus! Hello, from R. Van Winkle

2006-03-07T22:13:00.000-05:00

Just haven't been up to it, folks. For more than a month now, I've just had too much to do 'round here. So, today's gonna be a bit of a jumble. Here goes:

Sad news: Bob- Man, I wish you the best and all the goodness this world can muster. It seems shallow to only be able to say Godspeed to your lovely wife as she has passed onto that next journey already. You're one of those fine folks I hope to bump into someday as I walk life's path.

C is for sux: Bob's Mary, Sharon's Joe, Bart's Lois, Bill's Lois, Wifey's co-worker, Jodes brother, Kari's friend, all afflicted and it troubles me so. Nothing makes you feel more helpless than watching this disease march along. And today Dana Reeve leaves behind a 13 year old after losing her battle with lung cancer. She didn't even smoke, how the hell is that?

Uncomfortable: Our wonderful neighbor was able to move into a care facility this past weekend, the same facility where his 60 year old son is. Last summer, when his wife was dying, he had tried to get her into the same facility but the disease was much too swift. After things settled down last fall and he was able to think about it, he decided to put his name on the list for the next available unit. I think it was a good move, the last few years have been quite a rough road for him and it shows in his step and demeanor. The uncomfortable in this situation is helping move him to this facility while another son (that seems to be quite troubled mentally) is still living in his house. The eldest son has been very helpful in organizing his finances and taking care of all the legal issues, but there has been some, well, "tension" in the conversations he's had with the occupant son. I didn't know what to expect, but wanted to be there to try and make the process move as swiftly as possible and limit any confrontations if I could. It went wonderfully smooth, thank God. The next hurdle was to be today- Eldest son was to have Occupant son served with an eviction notice. A sad, but necessary step needed to tidy up the loose-ends in Dad's estate, and one that will hopefully get this guy moving towards helping himself. I have no information on how that went, and wonder if I will be able to get to sleep tonight.

Listening to: Doves, Surfjan Stevens (not bad, when you finally get to listening to it), The GO! Team, Cary Brothers, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah!, Weezer, Gorillaz

Wondering: If my Spartans will be able to put a complete game together sometime soon. Madness, I tell you!

Longing for: Colorado. Copper Mountain has had H-f'n-UGE amounts of snow this year. Please don't let it melt until Tax reckoning day.

Surprised by: CRASH taking best picture. I could care less, really. I haven't seen any of the candidates, don't care for the politics (yes, that means YOU, Mr. Clooney), but given all the blathering hype centered on the cowpokes I was simply surprised. Kudos to Larry McMurtry & Diana Ossana, especially McMurtry. I enjoyed watching one of his earlier works this weekend (Lonesome Dove), it gets me every time. Although, when you think about it, there are many similarities between Tommy Lee Jones' Woodrow Call and Heath Ledger's Ennis Del Mar. (At least based on the clips I've seen for Brokeback.) The slow, deliberate way of speaking. Almost grimacing. You've come a long way, cowboy.

Loathing: I haven't started our taxes yet. 'Nuff said. Also, this is the busy time at work, and I am SOOOO sick of customers, SAP, etc. I'm buried by piles of automated data and it's my job to find that needle. It just doesn't get any easier, every year more and more are moving to it and we have no system to adapt. Lovely.

Loving: Neigbor's son lives near a Hershey employee. Brought Orange-Chocolate Kit-Kats and Strawberries & Cream Hershey bars that are being test-marketed somewhere in the U.S. of A. You have no idea how delish those were. If you see them, buy them. You won't be disappointed.

Missing: Bloggers that have disappeared. Shandie (Not lost, she just moved! Thanks JL-)Teri, Tiffany, Storm. And also the two sisters (one's husband was in the military) and their mother - all fell silent on July 14, 2005. Gary who went to live in a cabin in the Cascades last summer. All were good reads, I miss them and especially for the 3 in the military family I wish them well.

Reading: NOT ENOUGH!

Really liking: My Capital One freebie: BOSE Tri-port headphones. Can't wear 'em in public, but incredibly rich sound.

Sick in Atlanta is no way to go through life, son.

Memorable Media Moment

2006-02-05T13:00:00.000-05:00

Another installment of my "Stupidity in Media" theme, today courtesy of CBS. I'm watching "Sunday Morning", as I am wont to do on a Sunday morning. It's nearing the end of the broadcast and a commercial blitz is on when it's pierced by a spot of self-serving hype:

Millions of teens post information on MySpace.com,
but predators are out there too, and the danger is real.

Monday, see why more people are watching CBS Evening News with Bob Schieffer.

Now, that does truly talk about a serious issue, one which I don't mean to ridicule in any way whatsoever. It's not that I have a problem with that message at all, because there are all sorts of creeps out there that parents should be aware of, like this guy for example. Now there's a real winner to write home to Mom about, and at this point one can only wonder how the poor girl happened to meet him. I'm sure he didn't set out to kill her, maybe her death resulted from his panic after he killed the cop. The only thing for sure at this point is that she's no longer among the living, and that is sad.

So, where exactly is my problem with this commercial from CBS Evening News? Well, let's just say it's got to do with a little thing called "presentation". You know- that part of a message which impacts upon its ability to be delivered effectively. In this case, as the narration proceeds it's accompanied by a myriad of images: fingers typing on a keyboard; "myspace.com" appearing letter-by-letter in a browser's address bar; the phrase "THE DANGER IS REAL" appearing in all-caps and bold, drifting slowly upward on the screen; and then- as the last sentence pours forth, urging you to tune-in Monday night- a slow-motion image of the smiling host of CBS Evening News appears.

It's a common thing in the industry to use such an image, for some reason newscasters can't be taken seriously unless they smile in slow-motion. The problem is, Bob Schieffer has a weird, Howdy Doody marionette-esque quality to his smile, and well- IMHO, it just affected the message in such a negative way. Here, you judge for yourself:

See what I mean?

Now to be fair to Old Bob, his eyes weren't closed for the entire slow-motion clip of that unfortunate grin forming on his face. Rather, as I moved frame-by-frame through the clip on my DVR I spied that one frame that seemed to only enhance my position that this unfortunate grin on the face of the host took away from the message. I mean, look at it, age hasn't been too good to Bob. He almost looks like a giant tortoise with that neck of his. And I'm sorry- but that grin just looks euphoric to me, and rather than think of serious news about a serious issue I could only laugh because it just looked like they put some sort of twisted pedophile up on the screen.

Ewww-

I LOVE THE 80s

2006-01-23T01:03:00.000-05:00

To copy His Greatness,(aka Humorist Mike) I post today for your viewing pleasure a relic from my past. Back in tha' day when I was in college (hint: it's before the 90s) there was a local artist/pseudo-activist named Mark Heckman who created a series of sometimes humorous billboards promoting this cause or that. Often they were regarding serious issues like medical waste dumping, the result of which would wash-up on the nearby shores of Big Blue.

As this picture indicates, he's not really promoting a cause other than himself on this particular example. But OH MY! how ironic the choices he made must seem given today's history. The times, they really are a-changin'. . . .
(My apologies for the grainy, historic look to this picture. It was taken with a disk camera [Anybody remember those?] The film is about the size of a candy dot, so by the time you blow it up to viewable size you're at about a gazillion times magnification.)

========================================================

Folks, it's going to be another quiet week from Jim (go ahead, enjoy the silence!) Got some travelling to do, hopefully it goes better than LAST week (NWA, get yer sh!t together RIGHT NOW!) Peace all, and maybe some prosperity too.

Toodles-

There's possibly a chance. Maybe.

2006-01-14T01:53:00.000-05:00

Reading Erin's latest post tonight reminded me of the fun I had watching the weatherman on the local station just this evening. I really like the guy, he's pretty steady-eddy even when he's delivering news of the apocalypse from the 'Storm Center'. Sometimes I just get tired of all the BREAKING NEWS! SHOCKING! garbage all the time (good band, Garbage.) Back to tonight- he's rolling out the 5 day shortcast and I swear he says "perhaps" about 6 or 8 times in a span of just seconds. SECONDS, I TELL YOU! I think he's finally cracked under the pressure of not being able to tell what the heck's going to happen tomorrow, or in the next 10 minutes for that matter (it's a Michigan thing,) so he's peppering his weathercasts with words of doubt to allow him to weasel his percentages higher. (See, Erin? Percentages.) I wonder if he's like Jim Carrey's part in Dumb&Dumber- you know, "So you're tellin' me there's a chance." THAT kind of optimism.

To help my boy out, I hereby offer a brief list of CYA lingo in the hopes that he can more effectively cover his tracks:

maybe
mayhap
perchance
debatable
doubtful
indefinite
arguable
questionable
borderline
chancy
clouded (oh, the double-entendre)
doubtful
dubious
inconclusive
hazy
misty
cloudy
unsettled
unstable
FANTASTICAL! (for those really special storms)

Good night all. Or maybe not.

Good Ol' Sol

2006-01-13T01:23:00.000-05:00

It is truly amazing what a sunny day can do to knock S.A.D. back a few steps. It's freaking unbelievable what a sunny day that's 50 degrees can do. I can't even imagine how weird that must make the wonderful folks in places like San Diego and Key West feel to hear someone excited about 50 degrees. Probably about as weird as I felt one time down in Orlando when I sat on a bench in front of our hotel reading the paper, enjoying the 8a.m. sunshine in a t-shirt and jeans, when I looked over and noticed the valet shivvering in a buttoned-up shearling jacket and knit skully. Ferreal!

Today was one of those days that, no matter how much stress is building at work, all was right in the world thanks to our good friend the sun. Even the gloomy December statistics I heard today couldn't dampen nature's enthusiasm: Less than 10% of possible sunshine, 18 days without one minute of sunshine, and we've had 50 straight days with measurable precipitation. That last one is a record-breaker; the old record was only 35 consecutive days.

I'm starting to give some serious thought to a career change and becoming a shrink, there has GOT to be some serious money being spent on couch sessions around here. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Peace.

And sunshine!

The Magic Number is 15

2006-01-09T00:30:00.000-05:00

Numbers are great. Just ask my son, who can tell you that a quadrangle is a polygon with 4 sides, and has many varieties: rectangle, rhombus, square, parallelogram and trapezoid. G-ZUS! I can't believe they're teaching this shtuff to 5th graders nowadays. But all props to the fine concerned folks over at his elementary school, they're truly a great group.

When I was a kid, for some reason I always got #13. No matter how much I told myself that 13 isn't a cursed number, I plainly SUCKED at basketball. So if you think 13 is just another number, change your errant ways and avoid all things 13. And take a look at the elevator panel the next time you're at a hi-rise hotel.

Magic Johnson is one of those cool dudes I really would like to meet. 32 is a number I will forever associate with His Greatness. Man, my Spartans were awesome back then. They didn't look anything like that today.

Today, we finally saw the sun after 15 days without a single second of sunshine. 15 days people! Living this close to Big Blue, we come to appreciate the moderating effects of all that holy water during the summertime, but in the winter we really have to pay some bills. We were getting some giant snow until just before Christmas and then someone turned up the heat and all that stopped. I have to apologize to Jason and Beth for blaming all our melting snow on their Christmas trip to Nebraska, I was out of my mind. Strangely, the wind calmed and clouds just kept coming. Sadly, I was looking forward to another day of Cloudcuckooland as this would be day #16, tying or breaking the record depending on who you ask. I'm a firm believer in SAD, and it was painfully obvious as I was psychotically gleeful in the bright moments following old Sol's re-emergence. I was clinging to the hope of another 24 hours without sunshine so I could participate in a record-breaking event, and I could look back over the years and recall how I was there that day, January 8th, 2006, when many were convinced there really is no God.

The hits just keep on comin'

So yesterday was my family's Christmas thing, and it started surreal enough. After driving almost 2 hours in freezing rain leftovers, unpacking all the goodies from our car, parking it and finally getting my butt inside, I made the rounds exchanging pleasantries with the 20 or so members who were already there. Nearly finished with my loop I spy my dad at the end of the drive , one foot in the road, waving to a fire truck to turn into our driveway.

"Odd," methinks. "Why is a firetruck pulling into the drive?" I ask. Well, the answer was my Uncle had fainted. As the paramedics were tending to him he went down again and they could barely find a pulse. An ambulance came and they struggled with the gurney as he was in the kitchen at the table. The good thing was one of my brothers is a P.A. and was taking good care of him til the help arrived, and also knew quite a bit of his medical info. I'm not sure if this was because of a close relationship with my Uncle, or if this was a result of other negatives in my cousin's family recently, but I don't really care.

The crazy thing is just over a week ago, one of his sons had some pain in his chest and went to the hospital; they found 5 blockages and operated on him the very next morning. My brother said to me a few days ago that he told each member of their family to get some tests done as this type of heart issue is genetic- my uncle's first heart-attack came at the age of 32. He's had 2 or 3, and at least 2 heart surgeries. The scary thing is one of his siblings has already had the tests after speaking with my brother, (he won't tell me what the results were, but he's also sworn me to secrecy that I even know the cousin had the test at all.) I hope for the best, but at the same time I'm a bit uneasy with the serious undertones of the secrecy. With luck, maybe the risks can be greatly reduced through diet, exercise, and our good friend chemistry.

Uncle is feeling much better, but will probably need to have a pacemaker. Thankfully, everyone was able to keep the kids distracted; I would hate for them to have had a strong memory of a bad thing happening at Christmas.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Upon a Midnight clear

2005-12-27T00:19:00.000-05:00

Damn, those company Christmas parties.

This year, I went to my company's party stag as Wifey was not feeling real well after fighting the CRUD for over a week. All told, the party was a great time. It was on a private floor of this multi- level drunk-plex, so when it came time to shut it down we could just go to one of the other levels. There were almost 20 of us having a great time so we kep-it-goin downstairs.

I was pimped-out pretty well in black on black (it's slimming, right?) with a deep gold shirt under the camel hair jacket. So I'm talking to a cohort from another division, drink in my right hand where it usually is, left hand in my pocket (where it usually is if I'm talking to someone on my left) and as I agree with what he's saying my head is nodding. I may have been nodding emphatically as a result of a good bass track thumping at the same time. Anywho- down the stairs comes this cougar (you know, she's on the prowl and looking for a fleshy target...) and as we were near the stairs I glanced in that general direction, my head still a-bobbing in the "yup, yer right, I hear ya" mode. The cougar says something indistinguishable- it might have been a warning, I couldn't see if her ears were back or not due to the seriously spiked 'do- and then she pounces, grabbing my arm and tearing my left hand outta it's resting place.

"YOU'RE MARRIED!!" the cougar screams. Yes, I am. Was this some sort of guessing game? Should I blurt out that she's divorced and dropped her kids off at the laundramat? Nah, that would spoil all the fun I think she had envisioned. So instead, I just asked if she was doing a poll or something. "You were trying to hook-up and you're married!" she screamed again. Oh- NOW I get it. A guy nodding means he's trying to screw you with his eyes. Wow, dating must be really hard nowadays. So I fight the cougar off and it scampers into the bushes to use the loo.

The cohort and I finish our conversation and maybe 5 minutes later the cougar springs unsuspectingly from the rocky ledge she must be walking nowadays, circling her prey. "I didn't mean to scare you" she purrs. "It's just you're the best looking guy here and you were nodding at me," she continues. [I need to clarify something for you folks: this place holds 1,500 people easy. There's 4 or 5 places to eat, most of which become some sort of nightclub. I'm on the high end of the age brackets present, my six-pack is usually in the fridge, there's NO way she's mistaking me for someone THAT good looking. But thanks for the positive stroke nonetheless.] The cougar is still circling distantly, both implying disinterest and looking for that one wrong move so she can strike again, hoping to fell her prey. "So can you dance?" This purr sounded breathy, but maybe I'm slurring her speech. Anyway, I tell her yeah, but I'm no good at it.

Apparently, that's what cougars prefer, as this one latched onto my wrist and dragged me out to the dimly lit dance floor. There also must be a specific way to dance with a cougar, cuz this one left no question as to where my hands were supposed to be: firmly planted on her ASS! Are you kidding me?! Where was this species of wild game back when I was in college? If that's not bad enough, when you lift your hand from a cougar's ass it uses its lightning-fast reflexes to bat your hand back onto its ass. Through all this uncomfortable time, I WAS able to find out that the cougar's got kids the same ages as mine (I still had to resist the urge to ask her what laundramat she dropped them off at, though!) As hints weren't striking their target, I distracted the cougar with the ol' "Coworker, five o-clock" warning. It worked perfectly: the cougar spun 180 to protect her booty- er, prey. Released from my bonds, my hands and I bounded back to the herd.

Now I know why the male members of the species are prone to that "I don't see nuthin' " gaze just above the heads of the crowd. I think it's got something to do with avoiding eye contact or playing dead or sumthin'. So fellas, protect yourselves. Never go to the watering hole alone, all eyes are on you. I'm one of the lucky ones- this rabid animal not only attacked prey in a crowd but she also attacked in the light. I learned from watching "Old Yeller" when I was a kid that only rabid animals will attack prey that's in the light of a fire or daylight.

Still counting my blessings-

Today's message

2005-12-25T02:47:00.000-05:00

A pretty creative advertisement from the folks at Hobby Lobby. Have a great day, all!

Suicide just sucks, people!

2005-12-23T02:00:00.000-05:00

Jazzy Jen sums it up best: horrible. I'm talking about the tragic suicide in the family of Indianapolis Colts head coach Tony Dungy, his own son! I can't imagine the pain they must be in. I grew up in the same town as Tony but never knew him as he was about 8 years older than I. My brother played against him in high school and I can only remember that he said he was quick. I remember how proud of him the town was as he moved into the college and professional levels. Tony was somewhat of a hero to me, such a successful person coming from my blue collar town; a town left behind by the auto industry. He was one of those few bright spots I recall growing up. It really is so sad that this kind of thing has happened to such a great person. Jen also posted this link to a well-written article on ESPN.com.

****************************************************
I know that many of you have been touched by suicide's suffocating tentacles at some point in your lives. If not, please count your blessings and then count them again because you are truly lucky. The anguish, doubt and rage you experience have few equals. I've lost more than I care to ever count: a good family friend, a woman I loved, and I nearly lost my sister, too. There were others I knew from high school but were not necessarily close to; each was one too many. Thankfully, I was spared the most grisly facets of their deaths as they did not occur when I was nearby; however the pain of not being able to pay my respects and mourn with the support of others affected by each loss will remain forever.

I am thankful, too, that I had 5 minutes to kneel beside, pray for, cry, and, well - SEE Mick's face one more time. I could not attend his funeral as my brother had literally JUST entered recovery that week, and my employer at that time would only allow me one day off. As much as it pained me to "abandon" their family at such a disastrous time, I felt that it would be better to be there for my brother, his life could still be saved. My family and Mick's were very close; our parents were the equivalent of "best friends" when you're in elementary school, so I knew him well. We were the same age, went to the same schools, and spent weeks during the summer at their cottage on Lake Michigan. The shadow of mental illness slowly set-upon Mick after his father died when we were in the 10th grade, and through the next 6 years it marched- growing steadily and without quarter- until his life ended that Friday in June.

I was in Albany visiting my fiance' that weekend, and clearly remember my Mom's voice- the hesitation and deep breath she took to brace herself- when she called to give me the news. I had heard that only once before when my couin's first child died from SIDS just minutes after he dropped him off at their daycare. "What's wrong?" I asked as I braced myself. Being locked into an arline itinerary, my only chance for visitation was Sunday evening after my flight got back. I was practically psychotic after my flight arrived early in the evening, I still had to get a taxi to my car, and then drive the 80 minutes back to our hometown.

I arrived in the fading twilight as the last family members were leaving and the director was actually locking-up for the night. I don't really remember parking my car, or closing the door, or even turning it off. I can only clearly remember hugging his sister and falling apart from the explosion of emotion and the thought of not arriving in time. Even after being allowed inside for a few minutes, . . . just not how I wanted to say goodbye.

Mick is buried in a rolling cemetary near where his father is also buried in a quiet corner under majestic old pines. When the wind moves through the trees it sounds as though the spirits are murmuring, yet I can't for the life of me make out their message.

****************************************************
I found out about Karan's death when I returned to college to start my second year. We had met and briefly dated the April before as the school year was finishing. Our plans for the summer took us in separate directions so things ended amicably enough. I ran into her roommate from the previous term and asked about Karan and was met with a simple "She didn't come back." I knew Karan was having a hard go of things that previous term so I just put it in my mind that she dropped out, another one shaken loose from the tree of higher learning. I was not prepared for the news her ex-roomie gave me later that night after she pulled me aside, telling me that there was something she wanted to tell me that afternoon but didn't feel it was the best setting. (Yeah, somehow it was better to pull me aside and break it to me easy when I'm half in the bag, and alone in the dark.) I can't be bitter though, she was very deliberate in not telling me that afternoon and I really can't imagine how heavy the burden of knowing what she did must have been. Poor timing aside, the flood of emotion she released by telling me was just plain huge.

I feel bad that I didn't know her family, that I've never made the time when I drive by her hometown to stop at the library and get the details about where they laid her to rest so I can visit and pay my respects, that the pain in her life was so great that she put the car in the garage and let it carry her to a better place, that her family didn't put an obituary in the paper so her friends could say goodbye, that THAT better place was where no one could ever see her again, that I could never see her again, hold her again, be intoxicated by her presence again, talk til a new day dawned again. Never, again.

Although there are many signs of trouble in someone's life, one of the hardest things to accept is that the average Jim, Jane and Jerry are not trained to see them and often NOBODY sees it coming, and that it is not their fault when someone they love attempts or commits suicide. You learn from it, but you can't let it kill you too because it is what they wanted, and they take careful steps to succeed. Often those that don't are crying out in pain. Before he died, Mick made a number of phone calls to various people, one to my brother asking if they could meet for lunch. Unfortunately he was unable to meet with Mick that day, and Mick died that night. Again- there was no way to see that Mick was saying goodbye, but it haunts my brother still.

Let those that you love KNOW it, help those that need it, respect those that are suffering from mental illness and learn more about it to help reduce the stigma and the shame.

Flippin Idiots

2005-12-21T00:41:00.000-05:00

I am a candidate for Road Rage Class.

The scene: Saturday, 6pm. I'm late for the company Christmas party, Wifey was a late dropout due to the CRUD from hell still lingering so I was behind the 8-ball after calling the sitter to cancel (Wifey's choice, really!) So, I'm driving these city streets a bit fast, and come up behind a Chevy Abortion van (some call it the Astro, but have you ever ridden shotgun in the damn thing? WHERE does your right foot go?)

Anyway, the Chevy is doing 25, tic-toc-tic-toc I'm going nuts, but the thing shows me the light of day as it angles to the right curb while approaches a corner. "Ahhhh, finally the bugger's gonna make a right and get outta my way" I think to myself as I ease a bit left to clear its back bumper. Then, just as my car noses past his back bumper I see the left tail-light blink and the fecker's car is edging- no, turning- left, HARD!

Oh no you don't! Keep edging left and lay on the horn (the road was slippery with lake-effect grease, there was no way I would have been able to stop.) So, after I get my car under control I see in my mirror he's wiggling a bit, stops for a moment, and then hits the brights and guns after me. That's all I need.

He comes right up on me, flashes, etc., and tails me for a few miles. Really, what did he hope to accomplish? Lesson learned: give the ghetto cruiser plenty of time to make up his meth-head mind and stay back, WAY back.

Drive safe, all.

Peace~

KUDOS, MENUDOS

2005-12-11T01:31:00.000-05:00

Gotta give props to the GVSU Football and Volleyball teams, capturing Division II National Championships on consecutive Saturdays. The ladies went to the hostile confines of Kearney, NE last weekend and beat the #1 ranked Nebraska-Kearney team on their home court. Not to be outdone, the men followed-up this weekend by winning the National crown for the 3rd time in 4 years, besting Northwest Missouri State by a score of 21-17.

Both Wifey and I earned our degrees from Grand Valley, and it's amazing to see this school progress from what was a 5,000 student population back in tha day (ok, late 80's for those counting) to a burgeoning student body somewhere north of 23,000 today. They say they want to stay in Division II, but I'm beginning to wonder what the NCAA has to say about that relative to the student population.

KUDOS ALSO TO THE BEARCATS OF NORTHWEST MISSOURI-----

Those guys played a great game. I honestly think they outplayed GVSU, especially when you consider that their student body is half the size of GVSU's (but GVSU has a large graduate program as well as regional campuses.) NWMSU barely made the playoffs with a record of 6-3, and then opened up a six-pack of whup-ass as they pounded their way through Division II's playoff bracket (who needs a BCS, anyway?) This team was inspired, and played all-out straight on football with awesome running, passing, catches and big-league hits that made me cringe from the comfort of the cushy furniture at my brother's house (great job hosting, bro'!)

The Bearcats fell just short, dropping a go-ahead touchdown pass in the end-zone and then two plays later completing a pass to the 4 yard line as time thankfully ran out. I think winning meant more to the Bearcats as they had tasted the National Championship twice before in 1998 and 1999; their vengeful march through their playoff bracket a strong testament to their capabilities. I almost feel that the Lakers 'escaped' with a victory, and would like for them to play for the National Championship again in 2006 to settle the matter. As the seniors on each team would no longer be there it wouldn't be the same, but you know what I mean.

So congrats to the Bearcats, they done good this year. And, I finally was able to see my alma mater take 'em on after a couple of near-misses. To next year: huzzah!

Picture time

2005-12-06T21:58:00.000-05:00

Today's post is motivated by Tiffany. Visit, and often.

Her assignment was to post a picture from your youth. I just happened across some a few days ago, so this one was easy. Here goes. . . . . . .

Handsome l'il devil, huh? Look at the stylish, Metrosexual turtleneck and hairstyle. What a hottie!!

Season's Greetings and Happy Holidays to all.

Thanksgiving?! What Thanksgiving?

2005-11-29T00:05:00.000-05:00

So yeah, it snowed like the bajeezus on Thanksgiving. Got the kiddies all worked-up into a frenzy, building snow bunkers under European Horn Bean trees (STILL holding onto all their leaves! Wretched Europeans. . . . . . ) the Christmas tree assembled and decorated, outdoor trimmings installed, and good behavior oooozing from their pores. The l'il cherubs!

This evening, under balmy springtime temps (you should see the weather man's color bars indicating the 40 degree drop in temps between here and Minnesota,) all the snow has melted except a few of the bumps which WERE the protective walls of the "West Side" bunkers. There's no sign of the "East Side" bunkers across the street, I think they scrammed under cover of night. . . .

Hey!

Did'ja hear??? Dumb-ass Matt Millen spackled another layer of Desitin on his whiney-hiney and fired Mariucci. Gotta love the fine folks in the Ford family for giving that bloated dork a 5 YEAR extension on his contract. (For the liberals out there who might be sports challenged, Millen is the equivalent of a fat George W.) Unbelievable. It's time for Old Man Bill to end our suffering and park his car in the garage with the engine running while talking strategy with Millen about how to build the perfect submarine sandwich.

Of course, to make it up to the Ford family, I have to give credit where credit is due. Have you seen this car?

Love it. Lovett? LUV. IT.

Of course, purchasing one would go against my self-proclaimed pragmatism whereby I WILL NOT purchase another new car. In my defense, we've outgrown the Focus. Yep, absolutely outgrown it. No way that little car can possibly meet our needs any more. Nope, gotta pull a Jefferson and move on up. Sometime.

So them's my bumps. See y'all down the road, Jack!

Open your mind

2005-11-14T23:34:00.000-05:00

Checking-up on Storm's vaca, and she reports that she done went to a sooth-sayer. You know, a seer, diviner, prophetess, clairvoyant, medium, (ok- that's pushing it a bit. Did you see her picture?? No? Check again. Gaze into those eyes and I'm butta', I tell ya!) mind reader, mitt reader, oracle. Ya got guts, Storm (that's sisu to you Finns oot dere in da UP.) No, check that. Cojones.

I mean, that's like letting someone rifle through your underwear drawer. There's just too much for them to find out. (I'm talking about mine, not yours. You know what I mean. I hope.) Not even most trusted friends have access there, let alone a master mind-bender.

I've had 3 brushes with Clare Voyant, and it was like The Three Bears: this one's too hot, this one's too cold, and this one's juuuuust right. Please, I beg you, allow me to put it in bruinilogical order for you.

Scene 1- Cut to 1992, young DINNKs (double income, no kids) being jetted to glitzy, glorious Merrilville, IN so Wifey can interview with large conglomerate. Jimmy was out of sorts on this trip, a fish out of water. First of all, I had to swallow my pride; this would make our life "unconventional" in the Ward and June Cleaver sense of things. Next thing hard to shake was that feeling that Mitchell McDeere had in The Firm when he started to pick up on how the firm does everything for you (and this was BEFORE the movie came out.) While Wifey interviewed and tested, they had a realtor drive me around to see some areas (Valpo was nice), and a feeling of dread came over me when I saw something: a gated community. Things started clicking in my mind about something I had heard from a coworker who hit the fleece markets in Northern Indiana quite a bit, something about a pretty heavy supremacist area nearby, complete with their own "force". The guard shack at the gate definitely gave you the creeps. After I got back to the hotel, I needed to veg- but didn't want to hang in the room (THEY might be watching!) SO- wandering the lobby I come across a lady who interprets your handwriting. I will just say that it was pretty frightening how quick she was. But I will admit to not having a game-face on like Storm did. I don't play Texas Hold-em, for a very good reason.

Scene 2- Same DINNKs are in Chicago for a baseball weekend with mucho amigos. Doing the pub crawl from Wrigley Field back to Lincoln Park, we start hitting the pubs on Halstead and wander into the Corner Pocket. As luck would have it, just before we got there there was a fortune teller working a folding table at the corner. The girls saw it, and you could tell the train-wreck was on. We weren't in the pub for 5 minutes and they were pacing like a Yorkie on a windowsill hearing the faucet running after drinking a bottled water. It was killing them, so off they went. 20 minutes later they're back. And they're not talking. 2 of them got the bad news that "they're not the one". Wifey was told of our reproductive future. 1-2-3 I'm Out!

Scene 3- We're in college, so we're not DINNKs yet. Campus Life has a funnier-than-shit comedian/hypnotist in to work his magic on a Thursday night (I think his name was Tom DeLuca. If so, props to Tom!) I'd been hypnotized before, and needed no convincing of its capabilities. It's extremely powerful. But to see what he could do to those poor unsuspecting folks, how he could make them think they're completely naked up on stage at the mere utterance of a single word, or that they've caught the biggest marlin ever and they've got to reel. it. in. with. all. their. might. Mmm-mm. Nope. I'll just do some mescaline if I want to have my mind outta my body like that.

So that's the hot, cold, and juuuust right of it. The bad and the ugly was back in high school after a good family friend died when I was in 10th grade. Some time later, I heard that one of his daughters had been to a card reader months before he died and Clare Voyant flipped a death card or some Yu-gi-oh super power card like that. The card stopped her cold, she had a vision that she could see her with her sisters looking down and crying, and it seemed that they were kneeling.

He died of a massive heart-attack on the dance floor at a daughter's wedding. The family has been nearly destroyed since that time: suicide, drunkicide, etc. I wonder, what else did she see? Did she tell her everything? Did she see that his own brother would steal everything from their firm and leave his sister-in-law a pauper, with two still in school? Or did she see death's grip in his own family's future and remain silent, perhaps with the crooked grin seen on so many gypsy's faces in bad movies through the years?

For certain, I will never know. I'm still sorting issues, folding them neatly, and tucking them away in my underwear drawer.

In a BlogFog, and I can't find my dog

2005-11-11T00:45:00.000-05:00

Wow, am I tardy. It's been what, two and a half weeks? During which time I've served myself heaping portions of all y'alls updates and gotten long in the tooth with my comments, but just couldn't come up with the time to git-r-dunne myself. It's like this: I'm tired. (My mind immediately shifts gears and I'm picturing Madeline Khan in a hot little number complaining about the thousands of men- again and again -all the coming and going, going and coming. . . [ let's face it, I'm tired.] She did that role so well. I miss her.)

SNAP! Back to reality- Things are piling up, had mucho travel in September/October/now, which means work piles up in the office and at home, Wifey and I were both gone last week (although Grandma of course attacked the laundry demon growling behind the pocket door, thanks Ma,) it's the busy season now so piles grow quicker than you can imagine, P-T conferences were today, Wifey's going "shopping" this weekend with the girls-in-laws, Good Buddy's moving, Li'l Bro's building a house, the Sibling Syndicate is debating when to have the family get-together for Christmas, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUGGGHHHHHHHHH!

I'M JUST LIKE YOU PEOPLE!!! (Most of you, anyways. Except I'm not quite as pre-occupied about sex as some of you seem to be. I am giving HNT some thought though. But that's all. Nothing more. Feel free to keep writing your stuff though, I think I'm going to learn a thing or three. Just don't stop. Just don't. Don't stop. )

So, the pic above is fog rolling-in along the shores of the Holy Water. Apologies for it being shot through the window screen, but it was damn damp outside at the time. I thought of it immediately when the word "fog" came to mind for this post's title.

CANCER-LIKE UPDATES
Brave Little Niece continues to do well, and is just now getting out of the wheelchair. I still can't believe they don't put casts on kids for this kind of injury, especially with them removing material from the tumor and the cyst. The leg just can't be that strong with all that bone excavated out. She is a trooper, though.

The bad news is a co-worker's son will now have to have his leg amputated. He had a bout with bone cancer, had treatments and a section removed, surgery to put a steel shaft in its place, grueling PT to get used to the thing, and now the leg is basically dead. Little circulation, no feeling, and prone to serious infection. Thankfully, there is still no sign of cancer, but geez! How much more can they take? Stay strong-

OFFICE CHAT, 'N SHIT
I just love our new IM at the office. I didn't think I would, but recently I spent a day at home and brought work with me. It's lengthy, but hey, you've stayed with me this long. The beginning is clipped off (I had to jump from a 2 person to 5 person session). . .

ME/... (Imagine Beavis&Butt-head voice)
Hm-hm-hm ha-ha. You said "hard", heh-heh-heh. you're 5
minutes too late.
ME/...
ME/... Is there anybody out there?
G #1/... where to busy laughing
G #1/... do you like my grammer!
ME/... Yeah, and your grammar's good too!
G #1/... I give up! I'm going back to the first grade.
BOSS LADY/... james james, what are you doing?
ME/... I've never met your Grammer. Is she nice? Wifey's
Granny was a terrific person, I bet your Grammer is too.
ME/... What do you mean, BOSS LADY?
G #2/... OK off the subject, So jimmy, if you get your work
done in the growler before 4, are you going to take the
offsppring in?
BOSS LADY/... you took the day off just so you could email and i/m?
ME/... Did [Vampiress] show up with the proper bagelage?
G #1/... Yes...[Vampiress] know's how to makes us happy!
ME/... No, I doubt I will bring the kids in. First, Girl M
doesn't get out until 3:50 or so. Then, how to go all the way
home and then be back at the CAN-tina in time for FORMER CO-WORKER's
send-off?
G #2/... what;s taking you so long jimmy?
ME/... Growler masterpieces can't be rushed, G #2.
G #2/... are you going to take a picture?
ME/... you know I don't work well under pressure
G #3/... What's this about the brown trout?
ME/... Picture??? I didn't know you cared. Maybe I can
work up another masterpiece and send a pic later
G #3/... Are the kids in the pool yet?
ME/... I sent the li'l bastards up the river.
G #3/... Ah, the magic of technology.
ME/... So glad you joined the party G #3
G #3/... I'll here for ya.
ME/... Has she seen all the earlier messages?
G #3/... No. Sniff...
G #1/... that's o.k. she doesn't need to bother.
G #3/... I think I know what the topic is....
ME/... G #1's being a party "pooper"
G #3/... ...one of my favorite.
BOSS LADY/... it's like a regular friday around here. james
might not be here physically, but in spirit. No, I don't think
she can see past notes, only what is typed after she gets here.
funny she knew what we were talking about.
G #3/... s.
ME/... h
ME/... i
G #3/... i
ME/... t
G #3/... t
BOSS LADY/... grammer again
ME/... quit reading my mind
G #1/... leave me alone!!
G #3/... OK. Back to the main topic....Plop
plop....fizz...fizz..oh what a relief it is...
ME/... yes, very refreshing
G #3/... So did you dress up as a BROWN M & M today?
BOSS LADY/... is Wifey home?
ME/... nope x 2
G #3/... p
G #3/... a
G #3/... r
G #3/...
G #3/... t
G #3/... a
G #3/... y
ME/... woo-hoo!
BOSS LADY/... have you started drinking yet?
G #3/... Yes, I have. Thanks for asking.
G #1/... We thought it would be fun to start in the office, but
didn't think it was a good idea with the kiddies coming in.
ME/... What shows do you guys need updates on, I can give you
the play-by-play
G #1/... What happened on Dr. Phil?
BOSS LADY/... oprah too.
G #2/... I have to stay for the kiddie haloween party clean
up . bah.
ME/... I dunno. Ellen, Montel, or Maury. A rerun of The Nanny
is on also. (nasal laugh goes here)
ME/... boot the brats out at 5!
BOSS LADY/... work question here james, do you want me to tell
[HQ] to keep the [customer] spec?
ME/... Ummmmmm. . . . yes, for now. They're still selling the
things.
G #2/... wokr? Jimmy's on vacay right now. give the guy a
break.
BOSS LADY/... okay, now, back to booting out the brats.
seriously, that needs to end at 4:30
ME/... Ooooooh! Maury's got Disturbing Paternity Test Results.
Looks like a winner!
G #3/... Yet another reason not to be on the Activities
Committee...G #2, you gotta resign...soon.
G #2/... Give examples. any alien fathers?
ME/... hang on, waiting for the damn colortyme comercial to end.
BOSS LADY/... or was the father really the uncle?
G #1/... better yet the brother
G #2/... Oh- you don't need to give me reasons not to be on
the committee. I m well aware of them, and I'll be retirirng at
the end of the year.
ME/... That's "better", G #1? You've been up in [PODUNK] too long. . . .
G #1/... I hate this thing. I want spell check added.
G #2/... oh - but deciphering is half of the fun
ME/... 3 months ago Sharnita's life fell apart. Today, she's
100% sure that Alfonzo's the father.
BOSS LADY/... and? is she correct?
G #2/... oh dear. how's alfonzo taking it?
ME/... c'mon, you know we'll have to wait until the end for the
answer.
ME/... Alfonzo's thuggin'
G #1/... Any hitting or climbing over chairs yet
G #2/... slow down guys - BOSS LADY needs to eat
G #3/... James, let us know when there is a commercial so we
can go and smoke. Thanks.
G #3/... I NEED A SMOKE.
ME/... 'Fonzo sez she cheated on him. Well, he's more like
yelling. "I aint no foo! I. AM. GONE!"
BOSS LADY/... did he leave?
G #2/... so are you letting us smoke?
G #2/... and eat?
BOSS LADY/... i'm going anyway.
ME/... "even if this child is mine, that means he was 'hittin'
it' at the same time!"
ME/... Sharnita's turned her back on him. It's getting edgy.
I can't watch.
G #3/... We'll be right back James. Be strong.
ME/... OH WAIT!
BOSS LADY/... the other guy is there, right?
G #3/... Wha?
G #2/... jimmy - don't get too involved. this is the kind
of story that willo break your heart.
ME/... He's the father of of the 2 year old, but not the 8
month old.
BOSS LADY/... who is? Fonzo?
ME/... Yup. got the last word, too. "You can't turn a ho
into a housewife."
ME/... Even Maury's powers can't match 'Fonzo.
ME/... OVER.
ME/... AND.
ME/... OUT!

Media Just Don't Understand

2005-10-23T09:32:00.000-04:00

Will Smith rulez. Props and homage to Will. If you can't quite catch my meaning, just ask.

Down to business: my browser's(go Firefox!) home page is MyWay.com. When I opened it today, one of the "Top News" headlines was "Storm continues to Last Mexican Coastline". This, of course, set my right eyebrow raising in the sarcastic way that it often does when I see the media goof something up. I think I'm a bit OC about this, too. (No, I don't mean to imply that I'm like Peter Gallagher's character on a certain TV show. I mean OC as in OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.) I don't quite understand why I'm this way about goofs from the media. Maybe it's the way that they present themselves sometimes, omniscient lords gracing the lower masses with their wisdom and wit.

Anyway, below is the beginning of the page which appeared when I followed the link (http://apnews.myway.com//article/20051023/D8DDOL8G2.html):

"Storm Continues to Last Mexican Coastline

Oct 23, 9:05 AM (ET)

By WILL WEISSERT

CANCUN, Mexico (AP) - Hurricane Wilma drifted northward away from the Yucatan peninsula Sunday, but furious winds and rain were still punishing Mexico's Caribbean coastline, where the storm killed...."

Now, I was certain that the headline was meant to read: "Storm continues to LASH Mexican Coastline", and I wanted to immediately send a message to Mr. Weissert and ridicule him for mixing his words up in that headline. For a number of reasons I didn't do this. One is that there's no "Send a scathing e-mail to author" button on most news web pages. Another reason is that many headlines are not written by the author of the article, but rather another staffer at the outlet. (At my local paper they are masters of all that is CORNY. To wit: "U-M uncovers field of gleams" and "MSU heads south, losing to Northwestern". Need I say more?) Finally, being quite a self-doubter at times, I decided to look up the definition of "last" at yourDictionary.com and one definition gave me pause, at least for a little bit. It was a verb meaning to continue on, or to survive.

When you look at it one way it could have been meant to say that the hurricane is "surviving" its brush with the Yucatan peninsula, which- since it is still a hurricane- it is. On the other hand, it would mean that it continues to continue, which seems a bit deliberate, even for the media. Especially when you consider the opening sentence where the wind and rain were still "punishing" the coastline, it's pretty apparent that "lash" was the intended word. So, AP, congratulations. You've got a dolt on staff who's succeeded in feeding many of your subscribers (including ABC News) your mistakes.

http://apnews.myway.com//article/20051023/D8DDOL8G2.html
http://abcnews.go.com/International/wireStory?id=1241616

On a completely separate note, here's one for the folks at Parents behaving badly. Oh, wait! They're on the case already! What WILL we think of next? And here I was worrying about my 8 year old daughter's attire (she's real skinny, so she rolls her sweat-pant waistband down. It's just that you can see her bloomers when she's got them rolled down far enough to hold the pants up.) Or am I being obtuse?

A quick poll & some great news

2005-10-18T01:26:00.000-04:00

Good News: Results are negative! Whattarelief! Long recovery ahead while her leg heals where things were removed, and the poor girl has 3 scars on her leg from the surgery. I just hope that's the only scars that result from this. I truly want to thank all of you for keeping fingers crossed and warm thoughts pointed her way. That fabled "kindness of strangers" is a great thing.

Poll:
Okay, I'm spoiled by a broadband connection and I know it. When traveling for work, I have to check e-mail and do my work duties through a dial-up connection and I grit my teeth the whole time. But this made me think (I know, a RARE occurrence!) What percentage of the visitors to my world here are coming via dial-up connections? I'm wondering if the hotcodez videos are annoying to you dial-uppers? If not a dial-upper, do they bother you anyway? Is there a cooler way to refer to the dial-uppers? I need some new slang.

Next question: How many of you are blogging while at work? Be honest, I promise not to tell!

Just checking in/News/Tagged!

2005-10-05T00:42:00.000-04:00

In the midst of my Not-in-my-bed-for-3-consecutive-Saturdays weeks of business travels and family commitments, I wanted to check in with alls y'all on the list shown on the right. My second stop was Randi (the list order is randomized, so you're EACH at the top of my speed-dial) and wouldn't you know it, the filly tagged me. Now I've got homework!

But before I get into that, I'm yankin' on the prayer chain for those of you who partake in such an activity for a couple of reasons: #1) I lost another Auntie M, actually my Grand Aunt on my father's side. She was a strong woman of great stature who raised my father's cousin on her own as her husband died very early-on. (I was not aware of that fact until the memorial service!) Your thoughts will help her family as they work through the grieving process. Thanks-

#2 is a bit more serious. (Ironic, I know. How much more serious is there than the death of a loved one? My view is that the death can't be undone, so focus your strength and energy on healing and helping.) My step-niece, a beautiful girl all of 10 years old, knows how to sew, takes violin lessons, extremely compassionate. . . one of those souls that you get the feeling has walked this earth before. Last weekend she was at a skate park celebrating her birthday and broke her femur (that's the largest bone in your body, located in your upper leg. It doesn't break all that often.) X-rays showed a tumorous growth, so they operated Monday morning to remove the tumor and found a cyst along the way. The jackass doctor had the balls to discuss options-- should the biopsy show a malignancy-- while in front of the young girl. You know, the comforting words like "chemo", "radiation therapy", and "additional surgery". If that wasn't enough, he threw in "amputation" for good measure.

Are. You. FUCKING! Kidding. Me?

So, things around this large family are quite a bit edgy right now. Although the surgeon did say that the material removed did not appear malignant, it will take 10 days for the results of the biopsy. I just hate the big C, for I've only known 2 to survive brushes with it. It took a wonderful neighbor in less than 8 weeks, and my beloved Aunt M after just 4 months. One angel was already called back this year, they don't need another one. Not THIS one.

Back to Randi's assignment:

The Rules:
1. Go into your archive.
2. Find your 23rd post.
3. Find the fifth sentence (or closest to).
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
5. Tag five other people to do the same.

The sentence: -S'mores.

The meaning: One of the many things from our vacation this summer.

My victims: Mike the Hick, Shandi, The Amateur Dad (cuz he doesn't have enough on his hands), Jaime (cuz she doesn't have enough on her hands, YET!), and finally, Funny Mike (who doesn't do tags but I'm givin' him the shout out b/c he's just danged funny. And because my paperperson won't deliver the Conschohocken Recorder, so I've no way to support Mike financially [but his friends keep calling and asking anyway])

Gotta run. You be good!

Goals

2005-09-26T00:42:00.000-04:00

This pic sort of sums up the past weekend, positive scores in many ways. The boy's team did well, as this shot of him scoring shows. Daughter's team didn't fare so well, they were trounced by what seemed to be an army of mutant 7&8 year-olds fed nothing but genetically engineered hybrid corn and hormone-laced milk. These kids were giants, plain and simple, and the flatfooted Sonics were absolutely no match for them.

No matter. Once back home the party began in honor of our daughter and some cousins. Oh, Michigan State was on the TV, too. We had the house properly decorated with just the right touch of Spartan support (you know, flag, wind sock, grill cover, shirt on my back. . . ) Many of my B-I-Ls are UofM fans, so I needed to extend the proper hospitality to them of course. And the TV was readily available if they needed/wanted to check-in on the score of the Michigan/Wisconsin game (hint: they weren't happy campers.) But that's not important.

The kids all enjoyed themselves immensely; what with badminton, volleyball, rasslin', gamin', eatin', singin'- you get the idea. They did what cousins do: catch up with each other in their busy, 14-and-under lives, see their grandparents, eat cake-and-ice-cream-and-chips-and-dips-and-veggies-and-fruit-and-nuts-and-sodas-bubble-gum and if I could think of anything else I'd type that too! They burned off some pent-up energy as they last got together about 6 weeks ago, and reaffirmed the various bonds that develop as you grow-up separate but alongside family. Heck, they even drew names for Kris Kringles already. Could you get kids any more wound up? Too fun!

So- now that they're all fired-up- I'm skipping town on Monday for an overnight trip, and I won't have a Saturday night in my bed until October 22. I just hope they're good for Wifey, it's hard to lower the boom over the phone- especially when they're in a trance watching TV or playing a game.

Have a great week everybody. Set, then reach your goals!

What to do when you can't report much

2005-09-22T00:35:00.000-04:00

Gotta love the Blogthings:

This one got it wrong. James/Jim is Jimu in Japanese. Dorks! But I do know how to use chopsticks (AND I can play them on the piano. D-Definitely time for Wapner)

Your Japanese Name Is...

Akio Yamashina

What's your Japanese Name?

This one doesn't match me perfectly, but neither does my color scheme. It's SORT-OF yellow, though.

Your Blog Should Be Yellow

You're a cheerful, upbeat blogger who tends to make everyone laugh.
You are a great storyteller, and the first to post the latest funny link.
You're also friendly and welcoming to everyone who comments on your blog.

What Color Should Your Blog or Journal Be?

Do people really say "Mack Daddy" any more? Holla back, y'all!

Your Daddy Is Arnold Schwarzenegger

What You Call Him: Pops

Why You Love Him: He's the Mack Daddy

Who's Your Daddy?

Your Personality Profile

You are elegant, withdrawn, and brilliant.
Your mind is a weapon, able to solve any puzzle.
You are also great at poking holes in arguments and common beliefs.

For you, comfort and calm are very important.
You tend to thrive on your own and shrug off most affection.
You prefer to protect your emotions and stay strong.

The World's Shortest Personality Test

SEPT 19: TALK LIKE A PIRATE DAY

2005-09-20T00:38:00.000-04:00

Dang-it all, I missed it again! 9/19 is the worldwide, international Talk Like a Pirate day, and I didn't find out until five-tharrrty tonight. In honor of the wondrous occasion, I have unmasked the plundering "Privateer Orange Arse". Not sure about the orange arse, b/c if it was, me lad would be goin' t' the doctor.

Jim , your pirate name is
Privateer Orange Arse

What is YOUR pirate name?

Another generator gave me the name: "Almost-Crazy Butch Grimm" Now THIS guy sounds more like a rum-drinkin scurvy dog! Go now, buckos. Ye best be gettin t' plunderin'!

MSU 44 ND 41 Are you kidding me?!

2005-09-18T00:16:00.000-04:00

To my Irish friends, I feel for ya. Honest! Think back to last Halloween, MSU was beating Michigan pretty well, at least until the mir-frickin-aculous Wolverine comeback. Does this sound familiar? No? Ok, how about this? Triple fucking overtime. Does that ring any bells? So yeah, I been there.

BUT NOW IT'S OUR TURN!! WOO-HOO! And to win it the way we lost to Michigan last year.

Yes, Virginia. There is a God!

Pit Viper

2005-09-09T21:31:00.000-04:00

I love working in an office, really I do. The building I work in houses 3 divisions, plus a warehouse. It's great, full of disgruntled employees and way too many incompetent managers. Add to this a huge mix of "temporary" employees. "Temporary" meaning our company's too cheap to step up to the plate and offer them benes like they should.

One of the unfortunate benefits of having so many "temps" around is the mistakes they make. You see, where I work is right outta Wisteria Lane, except t'aint no one near as good lookin' as you see on TV. When a newcomer arrives, there's a whole subdivision which circles their prey, not offering an ounce of assistance, but for sure loaded for bear when that poor newbie crosses a line. Any line. Line in the sand, line on your forehead, lunch line, you name it. It usually starts out with an incredulous "Didn't you know?!" Well duh! How could they? There isn't ONE training manual in the fargin' place. And you've gotta love a company whose employee handbook is a PDF file on a network drive.

That said, I just HAVE to share with you a typical e-mail pounce by one of our Queens. She has an incredible wit, and is sharp as hell. Let me set the scene: the original message is from the latest H.R. temp to split the fold. She lasted all of about 2 months. Young, might have had a degree, and spent a-lot of time planning a wedding. . ..

I just wanted to send out a quick email letting everyone know how much i
have enjoyed working here at [Your Company Here]. I wanted to thank everyone
for being so kind and welcoming to me. Monday i will be starting a new job
at [Horrors! It's a charter school] in their HR department. I will truly miss
working here.

Thanks again for everything and best wishes to all of you.

Nice. Warm enough to not burn a bridge, but oh, the veiled passive-aggressive "so kind and welcoming". She's good!

All hail the queen:

No Stompy, Thank YOU. For getting the hell out of here. Your voice and
the sound of your thighs rubbing together as you stomp by has been
grating on my nerves for far too long now. And you'll never make any of us
believe that you really think Skippy is funny. So now you can quit laughing at
his lame ass jokes.

I hope she learns that "I" should be capitalized regardless of where it
is used in the sentence. They probably don't teach that in History 101.

Buy, Stompy. Farwell. Yule bee mist.

How can you compete with that? Some nights, I can't sleep.

Violate Me: Chapter Two

2005-09-07T21:22:00.000-04:00

I was reading Shan's post today about one of those unfortunate procedures some that walk this Earth must endure. Luckily, I'm one of the hominids keeping myself pure for just the right, er-, woman. I was, however, a victim of a much more inhumane "treatment" maybe 10 years ago.

During a routine physical for a new job, some blood was detected in my bodily fluid-waste. The next step was to go to a urologist for a more thorough "exam". Thorough is an understatement, this was the mother of all exams. First you're turned into a lab rat, made to lie on a table while they inject you with Josef Mengele's secret formula that makes your head want to explode. You can taste metal, you're sweating head-to-toe, and you have to lay still for something like 19 X-Rays while they track this junk's path through your bodily filtration system and into your bladder. Just when you think they're done, they make you go empty your bladder and come back for one more. "Nice guys, I wonder what they do for fun on weekends?" I think to myself. A real, live pissing contest. The fun was just beginning.

After waiting for the 20lbs of celluloid to be developed, I get to transport them to the big U's office. They were fascinating to look at really, showing kidneys and other stuff working the junk to the bladder. Big U thought he might see a common deformation where the mesh in the middle of your kidney is loosely formed, thereby allowing a few blood cells to pass though every now and then. "Nothing to worry about" says he, "but we'll need to do one more test to be sure." Okey-dokey, what's the harm? How bad could it be?

"Put on this gown and get nekkid" was the next instruction. Okay, that's not EXACTLY what he said, but you get my drift. You gotta love those paper gowns they give nowadays, the thing was slipping off my shoulder so much I felt a bit like the girl in Flashdance, but more like Jodie Foster in The Accused right about the time she decided she din't want to dance no more. Especially when I spied more of Mengele's tools on a table nearby, one of them looked a bit like a fiber-optic cable. Uh-oh. He's going in for a better look.

Now, before they violate a man front-wise like, they shoot some numbing gel up there first. Knowing this, I think it makes the good Doctor more careless. After all, the road's already been paved, so to speak. After a few minutes, when 'Slick Willy' is in no mood to fight, the Insertion Procedure begins. His first words were, and this is no joke: "Relax." Like I should just lie back and learn to enjoy myself or something. At least the ladies get stirrups, and the proctos get knocked out. I'm sitting there watching the guy struggle to jam the damn thing up my l'il Jimmy and I'm supposed to relax?!

Of course, this isn't bad enough. Before he can look through the scope, it needs to be cleaned. This process involves a fluid being flushed through the scope, which promptly then follows the path the scope has created and you basically urinate all over yourself. Nice warm feeling. The- *ahem*- 'pinnacle' of all this abuse, was when the good Doctor, now satisfied with his work, proudly declares that I have a "beautiful bladder". So I've got THAT going for me. Which is nice.

At least he didn't leave a finsky on the dresser.

Where did summer go? Vol. II

2005-09-05T09:16:00.000-04:00

Man, how time flies. I can't believe how fast the sun seems to set nowadays. Too fast.

WAY. TOO. FAST.

We were fortunate to have good times with great family and friends. And can you tell that I love the water? (Well, at least when I can touch bottom, anyways.) So, let's go for a trip around my world, so to speak. Starting at 11, you've got a young Nephew finishing up a little project I'll call Fiefdom of Dreams because if you build it, "They" will come. They always do, the li'l rascals; every fiefdom dies a quick death underneath Keds, sandals and water shoes. With valor. The 1:00 cherub smashing another fortress (with glee, I might add) is a friend's daughter.

3:00 siesta is occupied by another friend, my great college buddy. He's a 'sangineer' (sand castle engineer) and built the 1:00 fortress. He knows more techniques than anyone should; if he had the time I think he'd love to enter one of those sand sculpting contests coming to a beach near you. At the bottom of the hour is the deck that was my 'Summer Project' which began on Father's Day weekend. THAT was fun. (Did I mention that this was the hottest summer in at least 5 years?) After opening weekend, it was an after work project interrupted by our summer trip Up North, some golf, and a few business trips too. Drilling and screwing each board down was a thrilling monotony of indescribable proportions. It's not perfect, but it's finished- at least until I put some skirting around it to keep varmints (real or otherwise) from under it.

8:30 has Daughter and 1/2Twin sampling some 'fruits of the fire'. S'mores are great, aren't they? Finally, at 10:30 I just HAD to let a sunset into the fray, if for nothing more than the symbolism of the passing season.

Thanks for touring with me. Now, tell me about your favorite memories from this summer!

And on the lighter side

2005-08-31T00:37:00.000-04:00

OK blogdomites, bring your 'A' game! It's football season, and my local paper had the *ahem* balls to print this picture in their (super-dramatic, exciting music inserted here)

COLLEGE FOOTBALL PREVIEW.

(That's a primer to you sophisticated folks on my right, or on my WAY right.)

Anywho- it's picture caption time. So take the gloves off (ta-dum-dum) and "give it yer best shot".

Feelin' for ya, but thankful

2005-08-30T22:36:00.000-04:00

Living in West Michigan we get some weather benefits, and one that can't be overlooked is the buffering effect that Lake Michigan can have on some nasty weather. Moisture laden thunderstorms churning across the Midwest are often drained of energy as they coast over Big Blue's cooler waters. While it's not perfect by any means (hello- "Lake Effect", anyone?) it does spare us- sometimes- from nature's fury. And today I am thankful, not only for that but other blessings as well.

I've been out of touch with the media for a few days and was only remotely aware of some of the tragic loss of life that has taken place in the deep south. I say "out of touch", but don't get me wrong; I was cognizant of the power expected from Katrina, the risks New Orleans faced from a full-on landfall, etc., but I am not a media addict. I work hard and don't often leave my desk for lunch, so as Monday progressed I missed out on the events of the day surrounding the hurricane. Especially because I spent Monday afternoon driving to Detroit with friends to watch the Lions' first MNF appearance in who knows HOW long (to you Catholics out there, I did 3 hours of purgatory. What's that leave me with?)

The result of all this windage was that I was basically in a media blackout until I got to the office this morning. As fate would have it, I have a relative whose youngest is entering their first year at Tulane this fall. While I'm driving back in the literal and figurative darkness last night, I start to recall that Tulane is in New Orleans, of all places. Ohhhhh, shit.

I can't imagine the frightening circumstances anyone down there faced as the hurricane went through. Terrible, just woefully terrible is what it must have been like to huddle for hours, hoping to stay safe. To those of you who scoff and say "They were warned! It's their own damn fault!" you know you're wrong about the sick, the suffering, the indigent members of society who haven't either the strength or the means to get gone good. But here's a twist for you: what about those who traveled to New Orleans by plane, DIDN'T rent a car because of the prevalence of courtesy shuttles and taxis, and then are unsuccessful in trying to get a flight out? I give you any family delivering a co-ed to Tulane.

I finally was able to connect tonight and found out all are OK. It was quite an ordeal, though, so sit for a spell.

Saturday morning was move-in and by 9:30am they had finished unloading and locked the dorm room. When they got back downstairs the word was that an evacuation was being ordered. (This is where time would stand still for me.) Tulane has a hurricane plan whereby the students are bussed to Jackson, Mississippi, so their child was being ushered in that direction while they quickly called the airlines. The agent told them they got the last 2 tickets on the flight out that afternoon.

They made their way back to their hotel and as they entered the lobby the looks on many of the faces put a chill through their spine. All they could see was fear in other's eyes. Mom went up to get the bags while Dad tracked down a reliable doorman he's gotten to know through all his numerous visits; he's always stayed at this hotel. Dad explained the situation: they've got tickets on a flight that afternoon, but need to get to the airport. This gracious doorman, he immediately set to blowing his doorman's whistle (whatever you call that thing that makes taxis come running,) but was unsuccessful at getting a taxi to stop until he literally ran into the street to stop one. What normally is a ride of 30 minutes or less took two and a half hours.

Can you imagine the pandemonium? This was Saturday afternoon, I think he said it was still sunny and beautiful at that time. How frantic it must have been Sunday and Monday in the hours before it hit. Thankfully, they made it back to Michigan Saturday night. The amazing thing is they were gone less than 24 hours.

Now, Tulane's plan to ship the co-eds to Jackson, MS is normally sufficient; it's 150 miles to the north. As the hours passed Saturday there were growing concerns that it wouldn't be far enough, but what could they do now? Some time Saturday, Dad's cell phone rings. On the line is the father of another student from the same dorm. After move-in, once they had reached the ground floor they had met this gentleman, shook hands, exchanged cell phone numbers, wished each other good luck with another child in college, blah, blah, blah. Luckily, this guy had kept his cell phone number because he was taking matters into his own hands, 'retrieving' his child from the Jackson, MS site and driving back to the east coast. Would they like him to get their son, too?

OMG! How cool is THAT? Hells yeah!

So today they drove down near Cleveland to get their son and were all back home by dinner time.

To all my blogging friends 'back east': (Mike, for one. Craig, you're guilty too as you're near the hand-off. Dawn, Bob, 'Fidget', 'Slant' [who many fear has suffered a catastrophe already,] hell even JL and Dol, too) Thank you for your warmth and hospitality. I have slighted many things 'East' in my past (Joisey, New Yawk, Bah Habba, Basston, Whooshta. . .) and I owe you a debt of gratitude for rubbing-off just enough humanity on this stranger to take it upon himself with this kind deed. I'm truly blessed and humbled yet again by another reminder of how frail this life is.

Reminder of Yester-year: Oh, those college days

2005-08-22T00:30:00.000-04:00

After reading Randi's post, I went to go see The Man known as Van's website. He had a post about a time in his past where he got quite a surprise in the bathroom, and it was all caught on film. This got me to thinking about something that happened waayyy back in college (cue the Wayne & Garth wavy flashback video. Duh-duh-duh-do, duh-duh-duh-do, duh-duh-duh-do...)

It was Friday, early March. I was in my second year at a regional college in Michigan. By this time I had learned the importance of scheduling classes only on Monday through Thursday, so Fridays were always free. It was a tough lesson that I learned my very first term when I had scheduled 8am classes on M-W-F. Kids, don't make that mistake. My grades were horrible that term, the worst grades I've ever had. Anywho, back to the news.

So after learning my lesson about Fridays, I was enjoying this crisp, sunny day to the fullest. The ground was still covered with snow, and the light pouring in my apartment window when I finally got out of bed was blinding at first. During this time of year the air is heavy with anticipation; snow is going to melt, the air will warm and you can't help but feel the movement of the seasons as you are brushed by a moist, dense spring breeze.

After taking care of some homework I decided to head out for some lunch. Just as I exited my apartment I bumped into some friends also going for some grub so I hitched a ride to BK with them. On our way back to campus, Benny (who lived with his parents just off campus) mentioned that he had rented Amadeus and Vision Quest, so we all went over to his place and watched movies for about five hours.

Near the end of our little film festival, I remembered that my buddy Paul from back home was coming up to visit that day. In a panic, I called his parents to try to find out where he was. (You have to remember, this was back before cell phones were common except on shows like Dallas or Knight Rider.) In talking with his Dad, he told me that Paul got a late start and don't worry, I would be back at my apartment before Paul would arrive. He even sounded confident, but I didn't want to let my buddy down.

Of course, after scrambling back to my darkened apartment I was sure I would find Paul banging the door down. My roomate had plans, and the other two guys were going to be out of town. There was no way for Paul to get into my apartment. As I turned and entered the hallway to my apartment there was no sign of him. The girls two doors down must have been having a party, at least it sounded like that as I walked by their closed door. I entered my apartment and it was just like I left it: dark , cold and empty. I set about putting my coat and some other things away when after a few moments there was a knock on the door.

It was Kari from the aforementioned apartment two doors down. They were having some friends over and wanted to know if I wanted to join them. I explained that I was waiting for a friend to show up, but Kari was able to convince me that we'd be able to keep an eye out for him and as he'd have to walk by their door to get to my apartment we'd for sure see him. What can I say? I'm easily convinced so I gladly followed Kari over to their door and followed her in. What happened next was unexpected to say the least. I had never been attacked with such speed and vigor, for as soon as the door opened out flowed a h-fn-uge "SURPRISE!"

My mind went blank, what did they just say? I swear I must have grimaced, I had never experienced such a rush before. The place was packed wall to wall, too. Upon looking around, there were many of my friends present, and Paul was there as well. From the ceiling hung a sign that read "Happy Birthday Vik and Jim", it was a joint party for Susies boyfriend as well (which explained the size of the crowd. I didn't have THAT many friends!)

"How'd they do that?" I wondered. To this day I still wonder. I mean it's been almost 20 years since that day so I'm entitled to forget some things, but these guys were good. "How good?" you ask? Get this- the whole day was not under my control from the moment I stepped out of my apartment. Yes, I said THE WHOLE DAY. Benny was in on it and removed my corpse from the scene so the crime could take place. Kari and Susie somehow got my friend Paul involved in advance, and I have no idea how they got his phone number as his parents were unlisted.

It was an extremely special day, and it is difficult to think of another thing that someone has done for me that could out-rank that party. It was a wonderful surprise, and the party just plain rocked for hours. Of course, I needed no convincing that I was going to have a good time. And that I did. I can't find any pictures from that day, but this is a recent one that duplicates the feeling.

If you get the chance, plan one for someone you know. It may be the experience of a lifetime for them, I know it was for me. Hell, you never know, you might just be planning one for me!

meme: M-W's Word of the Day

2005-08-18T09:58:00.000-04:00

This is sure to start a blogging firestorm. I've considered the word
'meme' to be pronounced "me-me" and to be used more as an expression about
oneself rather than something moving from person to person. While this
definition shown below certainly fits, I'm going to have a hard time using
the pronunciation "meem".

I'm also going to have to re-think the assumption that when I'm tagged
people really want to know about me. I guess it's as Dr. Phil says: "IT'S
NOT ABOUT YEWW!!" (At least that's what I'm led to believe he says by the
fine folks at Bob & Tom's morning show.)

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The Word of the Day for August 18
is:
meme \MEEM\ noun
: an idea, behavior, style, or usage that spreads from person to person
within a culture
Example sentence:
"Blogs are an interesting way... of seeing which ideas, memes, trends and
news events are getting the most comment." (Clive Thompson, quoted in the
_Sunday Tribune_, February 6, 2005)
Did you know?
In 1976, British scientist Richard Dawkins wrote _The Selfish Gene_, and in
his book he defended his new creation, the word "meme." Having first
considered, then rejected, "mimeme," he wrote: "'Mimeme' comes from a
suitable Greek root, but I want a monosyllable that sounds a bit like
'gene.' I hope my classicist friends will forgive me if I abbreviate
'mimeme' to 'meme.'" The suitable Greek root was "mim-," meaning "mime" or
"mimic." Dawkins's "mimeme" was formed from "mim-" plus "-eme," an English
noun suffix that indicates a distinctive unit of language structure (as in
"grapheme," "lexeme," and "phoneme"). "Meme" itself, like a good meme,
caught on pretty quickly, spreading from person to person as it established
itself in the language.
(c) 2005 by Merriam-Webster, Incorporated
Merriam-Webster, Inc.
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P.O. Box 281
Springfield, MA 01102

I have a cramp

2005-08-17T00:40:00.000-04:00

Sorry folks. I haven't left town or anything, but I DO have a serious case of writer's cramp. I haven't had any single idea drift before my eyes and grow. I feel as though I've let the good folks of Jim's World down, I know how many of you stop by each and every day.

Thank you-

Peter Jennings: Dead at 67

2005-08-08T02:49:00.000-04:00

Wow, that was quick. Eerily quick. Diagnosed in April, died 4 months later. My Aunt was also diagnosed in April and died on August 12th.

I was all set to talk about how I wasn't a fan of his, etc., but that similarity hit me square on the head with a gong-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g (<<< That's meant to bring to your mind the continuing ringing you hear after banging a really big gong.) He was a fellow human being who suffered an unfortunate sickness and death, and that's too bad.

I'll leave the "kicking them when they're down (or worse)" to Rush. Ten bucks says he loses track of good sense tomorrow and either a) celebrates Peter's demise or b) makes some sort of ill-timed wisecrack. You heard it here first.

R.I.P.

"You're Weird"

2005-08-07T17:44:00.000-04:00

Thanks to Jazzy Jen for this l'il gem. I've always known of my weirdness, but now I'm confused about what to do with this new piece of information.

I feel like the proverbial dog that's chased and caught its tail, and I'm biting hard but don't know what to do with it now. Thanks Jen!

You Are 40% Weird

Normal enough to know that you're weird...
But too damn weird to do anything about it!

How Weird Are You?

I hate goodbyes

2005-08-05T00:24:00.000-04:00

We moved into this house almost seven years ago. It was nearly love at first sight, very similar to the chaos-filled homes we each grew up in as we both come from large families. It was and still is a great neighborhood.

We purchased the house from the original owners who built the house as they started their family. When we moved in, much of the neighborhood was still the elder residents who had built these homes. Today there has been many more turned-over to the younger generations to build or raise their own families; it is a vibrant neighborhood full of youthful life and activity.

After we moved in, we quickly got to know our neighbors. To the north, a second-owner home who had themselves raised their children in their home; a wonderful family of five, very Christian, would do anything for you, and so darn nice my brother refers to them as the Brady Bunch. To the south, a couple nearing eighty who had three sons, one of which they cared for in their home as he was born with cerebral palsy and then at some point suffered a brain injury. The other two had careers and families of their own; one was 6 hours away and the other was 6 minutes away. Their son at home was a gentle giant, about 50 years old when we moved in. The three of them would sit in lawn chairs in their driveway and strike up conversations with anyone walking by, and though his speech was difficult to understand the gentle giant would soon control the conversation. He had a firm handshake, even though it was difficult for him to walk. We often worried about Mom and Dad, for he was so much bigger than they. (They loved our kids as their own, too, so it seems natural to refer to them as Mom and Dad.)

Almost one year ago they finally decided to place him in a care facility. It was more difficult for Mom, she had cared for this man all of his life, knew all the nuances of his speech, how could a stranger care for him like she had? Over time she has accepted it as the best for him. After his first night away they went to have breakfast with him the next morning, his first words were that he did not want to return home! He was happy, had a place of his own, and I think he realized that it was the best for his parents too.

Shortly after finally emptying their nest, the other local son went through a messy divorce and he moved-in with them. Can you believe it? Now 80+ years old, and one returns to the nest. This one was no joy either. Supposedly suffered from debilitating headaches, needed to live in a darkened room kept at a very cool temperature. When he did venture outside he was skin and bones, rudely outspoken, and treated Dad like dirt. Two years later he's still living there, and still treating Dad like dirt. We worry that psychology is to blame for his problems, but Mom would never hear it.

When we returned from our summer vacation this year we noticed that Mom was sitting in a chair in the sun. She always looked tired and worn, but she looked utterly exhausted now. Since we were returning after being away for 10 days we had much to do with unpacking and cleaning and sadly didn't make the time to at least go say "Hi". The next day our neighbor to the north informed us that Mom had been diagnosed with cancer, and the initial prognosis was not optimistic. This was confirmed within the week at a follow-up appointment and there might be six months left for her. Still, they kept to their routine as much as possible, having breakfast with the Gentle one, helping change his clothes, etc. It was enough to make you think that her will alone would carry her through.

Last Friday our neighborhood had a block party. It was a great time, and with more fresh faces in the neighborhood it was good to mingle and meet so many of the new neighbors. The kids all had fun; there was a bicycle parade, goody bags, face painting, and best of all the fire truck. After the crew got a bite to eat, all the kids were given rides in the fire truck complete with lights, sirens, and even blaring horns. As the driver would round the curve to come back up the hill she would apply the engine brake to help slow the rig down, it makes an unmistakable muffled popping sound as the rig slows. It took three or four loads to get all the kids a turn at riding in the truck, so the sound was etched in my mind by the end of the night.

By now Mom has grown much weaker and they were unable to attend the party, so Wifey and another neighbor went to visit and take them some of the wonderful treats from the party. Mom could only worry about her hair, of all things! She hadn't been to the salon in so long, and wanted nothing more than to have her hair curled, so Wifey set an appointment to curl her hair the next day at 11:00 in the morning. Wifey was there promptly at 11, but was back after a few minutes to get a spray bottle. Daughter M wanted to go see "Gramma D" so together they went. She was so grateful, it took almost two hours before Wifey and Daughter made it back home. There was so much to talk about, and Mom loved to see Daughter M.

I heard it again later that day, and at first thought that maybe the firefighters had some responsibility to remove the barricades put in place by the city for the block party. After a few seconds I realized that they had stopped at Mom & Dad's next door. Wifey heard it too and rushed over to offer a hand. I checked on all the kids, who were extremely curious but I was proud of their restraint as they never wandered to the other side of the yard for a better look. Mom was confused, her legs were numb, and she couldn't get warm so they took her to the hospital to try and get her stable.

After a few days she came back home on Tuesday and is now getting daily visits by hospice workers. As I left for the office this morning Dad was returning from breakfast with the Gentle one and tooted the horn as he pulled into their driveway, so I went and said hello. His emotions are getting the better of him with each passing day, but we communicated more in silence than in the words which were spoken. He knows that we'll help in any way we can, but will not ask. Ironically, I'm the same way. I hope that as I walk this Earth I do it with the same grace that these two have.

I hate goodbyes.

Sir Charles

2005-07-28T06:07:00.000-04:00

Better late than never, right?

Last weekend we went to a friend's place just off the shore of Lake Michigan. It was a super great time, the party was intended to be a Vinyl party so we all brought our old records from college. Unfortunately the TWO (yup, I said two) turntables that our friend brought were out of commission. One had a broken needle, and the other broke its belt just as he fired it up.

The night wasn't a total loss as we ended up moving to another friends house which was much larger and more accomodating. They warned us that rain was coming, and after about 20 minutes of frantic activity the tent and its protective tarp were packed so everybody headed over to the alternate site. What a feast! Ribs, burgers, corn, taters, salad, fruit, brownies, cookies, beer and some great wines; is it any wonder why I slept like a poisoned puppy?

Being so close to Lake Michigan was great, too. We only had to walk about 400 paces and we were on the beach ready to build sand castles, catch footballs and cool off in the lake's refreshing 72 degree water. On Sunday we were treated to a bonus of giant waves thanks to a strong southwestern wind. While it brought more of the dreaded heat I've been complaining about, the wind churned up some great 5 footers that were great for body surfing. Unfortunately, with the wind coming in at an angle to the shoreline, a nasty rip-current was moving along the beach to the north that made it far too dangerous to swim out and catch the best waves. This let me stay out in the water the entire time to play 'Lifeguard' for the little ones. While it was cute to see the 10 year-olds holding hands and protecting the 7 year-old, it was a concern nonetheless. As it turns out, the concerns were warranted and sadly a 21 year-old man drowned at a beach 20 miles south.

Once we returned home I caved-in to the heat and took refuge in an air-conditioned movie theater to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory with my daughter. Having grown up watching Gene Wilder play Willie Wonka I was disappointed with Johnny Depp's portrayal, but the rest of the movie more than made up for it. I especially liked some of Tim Burton's modernizing twists like the pumped-up Oompa-loompa music numbers and having all the loompas portrayed by the diminutive Deep Roy was genius. There are other twists, but I will leave it to you to discover them for yourself. I don't want to spoil it for everybody.

So, plunk down a month's worth of 401K contributions and check it out for yourself. Consider the flavored cheese shakers for your popcorn an unplanned bonus just as I did. I guess I've gotta' get out more. . .

Later-

I FOUND IT!

2005-07-22T01:12:00.000-04:00

YAY! YIPPEE! MP3 has come back to me!

The damn thing was in the pocket of my ski jacket hanging in the closet (which was covered by another coat for lack of hangers.) Using it to RIP some FOO worked great, and now I can enjoy more than 3 tracks at a time on my player (which does NOT allow uploading, so the Fookin' copyrights are safe with my player just in case Dave Grohl is wasting his time GOOGLING hisself. He probably is ogling himself considering the damn picture on the autoload player with the CD!)

I must admit: I stand corrected. I spoke in anger with my last post, it's not a one-hit CD. After listening to most of the tracks in order to decide which I wanted to load on my player, I can say that about half of it will be successful in getting airplay. If you find it for $10 at your favorite store, I'd say go buy it. That's pretty much a "thumbs-up", folks. Or an "around the world and back snap" if you're so inclined (and bless you, fellow humorist, if you are!)

~~~~~~~ <--- That's a heat wave!
It's still hotter than shite here, with this weekend climbing into the 90s with plenty of spore-fostering humidity to go with it. You can be sure that there'll be frantic calls for ozone action (or inaction as it were.) Fear not, fellow huggers and granola eaters, I will be enjoying the sun with friends, maybe frolicking in Lake Michigan, and hydrating aplenty with a lemon twist or even some limes.

You have a nice weekend. Bye now. Buh-bye!

Boo Foo! Boo-hoo two-

2005-07-17T23:32:00.000-04:00

Today is a collection of bitchings.

First off, I need to call Foo Fighters onto my carpet for some bitching. Being a fair and responsible member of society, I went to a local store and purchased their latest release "In Your Honor". Now, I'm a big fan of MP3 players, especially those using Flash memory (no skipping!) so my plan was to rip the tracks and load them onto my player. Except one small problem, the Fookers have gone overboard with copyright protection. In a CD player, no problem. In a computer, it installs software to manage copyrights, loads "keys" from an unknown source, initially plays using Media Player (garbage, people!) and does that in an annoying full screen mode complete with the Foo boys smiling at you from a large picture. It doesn't stop here, for the CD will not play on your PC unless you load the copyright software, and the licensing language (as well as the language used on a support website) is confusing to say the least about what information may be gathered, and how it is reported.

It gets worse: the software allows the music to be ripped, (in fact, the intrusive full-screen interface makes it easy to do) but it only rips to WMA files and not MP3, so it isn't guaranteed to work with ALL players. In my opinion, WMA is an inferior format. To top it all off, the software seemingly only allows you to put 3 tracks onto your player. This is from a readme file on the CD:

"The Standard "Check-In - Check-Out" Process: With Cd3 Technology, you have the functionality to easily access your new digital tracks for enjoyment on your portable digital devices. You have the capability to "check-out" up to three tracks at a time. Simply "check back in" the tracks you have out to make 3 more selections available. Thank you for your purchase of this "expanded experience" CD. We hope you have as much fun playing it as we had putting it together for you."

What kind of bullshit is that? Just because I choose to listen to the CD I purchased through a smaller device, they're going to tell me I can only put 3 songs on it at a time?!? And I will have to check songs in and out like I'm at a friggin' library? They can kiss my a$$, for that's all they're after it it's gone too far. On top of that, The Best of You is the only agreeable song I've heard (although I haven't completely listened to the 2nd CD yet.) So I'm out $14, and for a crappy one-hit piece of junk. F[_]CK YOU, FOO! Who are you kidding? Are you telling me that as burnouts in the 80s you didn't copy tapes, tape off the radio, etc. in order to make your own compilations? How does today's technology change that? The speed is immaterial, I've paid for the music, and should be able to listen to it in whatever format/method that I choose. This is my first FOO purchase, and will be my last. FOOls.

Next up: My old MP3 player is missing in action. It was a smaller unit (256MB)but it had one great feature, a Mic In port which allowed you to record whatever you wanted (perhaps clips from your favorite movie?) Even though we have a larger unit, it doesn't have the ability to record on the fly. I've looked everywhere I can think of, do you have it??

Finally, this summer is a scorcher and I am ready for the heat to back off. Flame on!

Reminder of Violence; or I was violated

2005-07-15T02:19:00.000-04:00

I was checking out Jason's wife's-
blog and she was talking about a magical spa treatment that made her want to go Divinyls all over herself. This got me thinking about my first ever massage. (Well, my first "Professional" massage anyways. The "friends with benefits" kind back in college don't count. Well those counted, don't get me wrong. . . ah, I'll shut up now!)

My first massage experience wasn't such a luxurious thing, although it WAS at what I thought is a very nice spa- Mandalay Bay in Vegas. Wifey wanted to get a couples massage, but those were all booked so we got separate ones. The only thing left I could get was a 'deep tissue' massage.

My masseur was Bam-Bam hisself, no joke! He stood about 5'6", and probably needed a size 56 jacket or something obscene like that. After applying liberal amounts of oil to my back (I thought this was a safe area for a 'deep tissue' massage) he started kneading my tenderloins. I was finding it hard to breathe, but Bam-Bam was only warming up at this point. His next trick was to jab his elbow just to one side of the spine way up by the shoulder blade and then drag it all the way to the associated butt-tock. Now I understood two things: THIS is what all the damn oil was for, and without a doubt I was no longer capable of breathing.

Bam-Bam must've been a caring soul, for he felt it necessary to inquire about my well-being. "M-fffine!" I grunted, trying to sound masculine and unaffected by his brute strength. The only problem was my back was literally quivering, and this was in no way an erotic kind of thing. I should have never tried to feign indifference, because Bam-Bam decided the other back strap needed immediate attention. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse- after all, Bam-Bam had made mincemeat out of both sides so what else was there- Bam-Bam dove in with both guns this time. I think the arch in my back was a dead give-away because he stopped and starting talking some mumbo-jumbo about "toxins releasing" and "drinking plenty of water to flush them out" and how that would be better for me. As it turns out, my time was up. Geez, I'd been assaulted and violated and damn water was going to save me?

The saving grace was that as a paid guest of the spa, we now had the run of the place. So, I immediately set to assuaging my new aches and pains by visiting the steam room and then a nice long soak in their lavish Greco-Roman bath; a lagoon-sized jacuzzi with multiple cascades, it was surrounded by huge cushy lounge chairs. And many large men were asleep in them.

"This is where husbands go to die" I thought to myself as I settled into a lounger, ready to start slugging the water and "detoxify" myself. Paradise indeed.

WE HAD A BALL!

2005-07-09T00:34:00.000-04:00

What a week!
-Nearly 1,000 miles.
-3 destinations.
-2 family visitors stopped by for a few days.
-S'mores.

-Campfires.
-Pig roast.
-Fireworks.
-Fire trucks!

-Wind & waves!

-And of course, sunsets!

This week has been grueling, but thankfully shortened greatly by the Independence Day holiday. After an action-packed vacation it's back to finishing the deck started Father's Day weekend, so my nights have been filled and a steamer is coming for tomorrow (anything over 85 degrees is a steamer in Michigan.)

Thanks all for checking on the place while we were gone. You RULE!

Liar, liar, pants on fire

2005-06-26T00:28:00.000-04:00

Okay, I lied, a-gain. I'm the only one awake, WIDE awake, so I'm keepin' Ma Bell happy by burning up the phone line.

Thank GAWD we're up here (for those NOT from Michigan, 'up here' means you are somewhere North, typically North of where you normally reside. See: Up North. 'Pop' is a beverage some call soda or coke.) It's been hotter than h-e-dubl-L the past week, and as soon as we got near the water the temps dropped a good 10 degrees or more. It's actually downright cool. If I sound a bit excited it's because we don't have A/C at home; and I turn into quite a grumpy grizzly bear once it starts getting over 90 during the day (and yes, it DOES stick to my fur!)

The double bonus was the JetSki ride after getting everything unpacked and eating lunch. After heading back to town to the launch, it was looking like rain and had clouded over with some wind. I forgot to pack my wetsuit, so I was starting to get a bit concerned that I could get hypothermic during the 20 minute ride back to the cottage. After launching (thanks, Wifey!!) I head out to round the point and go north; it's a bit choppy, but traffic is light and what traffic there is turns out to be mostly sail-ers. Round the point and North it is, open 'er up to 60 for a bit just to loosen up my sea legs. After a few good bumps my knees tell me to sit back down and act my age (I wish they made WD-40 for achey joints, what a pain!)

Being seated allows for some S-turns and general tom-foolery while I make my way to the Northernmost point, and when I near that point I realize that the wind has gone dead calm. Glass is coming! Feeling my oats, I pause to turn my cell phone on and taunt my brother about the conditions and the weather; he's back in the heat near where I live. HA-HA, SUCKER!

Glass makes for smooth, comfy riding; probably a good thing until my joints loosen up enough to let me take on some wave jumping and general thrashing later in the week. Until then there's plenty of rides to give the kids.

SO GOOD TO BE AWAY FROM THE OFFICE!

The answer is. . . . .

2005-06-21T00:37:00.000-04:00

It's a vacation! Right on time, too! WOO-HOO!

Oh, BTW, the pictures below were a bit of an underhanded clue. They're taken from a little slice of Heaven where I get to spend one week each year. I'll be there in just 3 more days!

Since I'll be gone, I want to wish each of you a wonderful few weekends, I doubt that I will be blogging while there (I just can't deal with dial-up anymore, and the connection isn't too good from out there.) So, be safe, everybody!

Peace out, y'all!

All I Ever Wanted

2005-06-16T00:45:00.000-04:00

It's coming.

You can't stop it from coming.

You can't run from it.

You can't hide from it.

You can change, move, or even delete it.

You can love it, or hate it, but seldom at the same time.

It doesn't care about you, or your friends.

It might be near, it might be far, but it never starts where you are.

You can't give it away, but maybe give a way away.

WHAT IS IT?

Funny Ideas from Mike

2005-06-15T12:53:00.000-04:00

Mike's blog is a funny good time (Funny ha-ha?), and I'd like to borrow from his 'good friggin' picture' idea and share an image here and there. I make no promises for regularity (and I won't promise to share pictures weekly like Mike does, either.) I don't know any cool photogs like Mike does, but Shawna takes/makes some pretty cool pictures. So here they are, copyrighted as usual.

No 'A' for originality here. You'd think my feet are stuck in cement. (Randi, is it 'cement' or 'concrete'? It seems I'm always using the wrong word.) Anyways, Grasshopper, please notice the varying colors of the water and the sky from one picture to the next. The first three pictures were taken all within a few hours. You might say it's one of those gee-whiz things about this great place we live, I guess. Or you might not. And since I haven't been fortunate enough to see a good episode of the northern lights, much less get a picture, these are gonna have to do!

Crazy

2005-06-13T01:30:00.000-04:00

Things are getting busy already this summer, but who am I to complain? It just means that I'm a bit tardy in posting.

I had an opportunity to reflect on a rather crazy thing I did once, which of course led me to think of a few more. One was speeding down the highway in a '79 T-bird (the one with the super long nose and vacuum powered headlight covers) but I was using the left shoulder as my own lane. This happened to be on I-94 where the only thing separating East & West was the good ol' concrete barrier, so I was squeezing that T-bird between cars using the proper lane and the concrete wall at 90-100mph. Pretty stoopid.

Stoopidity #2 was for my Senior Prom, and also involved speeding on I-94. (A troubling pattern seems to be forming here.) On this occasion I was driving back to my hometown in a hot new Mazda RX-7 Limited Edition that my brother had purchased just weeks before. The fool loaned it to me for my prom night! Well, the Limited Edition had a souped up engine, and I decided to let the ponies run. In broad daylight. Oh, and it was raining too. Let me just say that at about 140mph the bullet-shaped nose of the RX-7 started to lift quite noticeably.

Speeding (again!) down a country road at night in heavy fog. That was fun zipping into and out of the clouds, watching them flow over the hood of the car and zip up over the windshield. (And this was BEFORE drugs!) Reality came in the form of a large dairy cow standing watch at the edge of the road. Moooooooooo!

Although I'm not a member of the Mile High club, I did make love to a beautiful girl just off the taxi-way at a local airport. This was back when you could just drive your car up to the hangars, which of course meant that you could drive your car anywhere on the airport property you wanted, so we found a nice quiet spot, and yada-yada-yada..... I'm thinking that 9/11 has probably changed that 'access' to the taxiway.

So- What are some of the crazy things you've done? Do you regret any of them?

NERDS!!

2005-06-06T22:48:00.000-04:00

Whew! Was I sweating that one out. I've been referred to as a book of worthless trivia, so you can imagine how worried I was over this personality identifier.

I think I should feel good about this, but then I'm conflicted. You see, the connotation is that nerds know many things, most of them not cool things. On the other hand, the beautiful people know many things also. Things like what time 'The Simple Life' is on, and which one is Nicole Richie. One of the guys I work with is your atypical Leisure Suit Larry, for he's pretty cool, but he's a total lech. (He's Man Dibbles from a previous entry.) Today Man Dibbles calls me from his desk, and in a low voice he asks me how to spell a word. Now, I must admit, this word is difficult; for it is used at least three different ways, but pronounced and spelled the same way in all three cases. (What is that? A homonym? Geez, I just Googled 'homonym' and I'm right. Of all the luck, NERD!)

What was the word, you ask? Brace yourself- the magical yet difficult word was:

stool.

I can hear the muted trombones, screeching tires and record needles being dragged as you are reading this, fellow blogger. So let me get this right: Simple Life air times=cool, spell 'stool'=not cool. I'm not nerdy, but I might just be a fool.

I wanna be a rock chick- a.k.a. the daily double

2005-06-03T00:28:00.000-04:00

Somehow, I ended up over at immigration and this lady there gave me a test. Damn, the results were interesting, if not encouraging, but they only got me a fast trip back home.

Which Rock Chick Are You?

This got me to thinking that I believe in reincarnation, because I am for damn sure coming back as this hottie, whoever she is. And I'm going to have a lot of fun. You have NO idea!

I don't know how to say her name, either. "Cerys". Is that pronounced "Cherisse"? "Sarees"? "Service"? "Chairviss"? "Cherries"? I feel bad about that. For sure, I must now find out more about this group Catatonia...... Well, that was easy enough! It seems I'm a Welsh ex-pat now hanging my hat in Nashville of all places, working on my second solo album. There's a chance that I've crossed paths with my more-beautiful self last fall. Ah, fate!

So, who are you?

Movie Answers

2005-05-30T11:27:00.000-04:00

1. What was the last movie you went to see? I CAN HONESTLY SAY I DON'T REMEMBER, ALTHOUGH I THINK IT WAS LAST FALL, AND I TOOK THE KIDS. I THINK. SLIGHT COMPLICATION OF THE OL' SNOWBOARD INCIDENT OF 2002.

2. What is your all-time favorite movie and why? Did you see it at the theater, or was it a video/DVD? THIS IS A TOUGH ONE,ESPECIALLY BECAUSE THERE ARE SO MANY CATEGORIES OF FAVORITES (FAVORITE WHEN I WAS YOUNG, MODERN-DAY FAVORITE, LOVE, ACTION, FANTASY, ETC.) I'M GOING TO SAY 'THE UNFORGIVEN', IN PART BECAUSE I WANTED TO SAY 'THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY' BUT BECAUSE THE DUBBING IS SO HORRENDOUS I HAD TO GO WITH A MODERN FILM. SPEAKING OF BAD DUBBING, DOES ANYONE KNOW WHERE I CAN GET A COPY OF 'THE ROAD WARRIOR' WITH THE ORIGINAL AUSSIE VOICES, NOT THE AMERICANIZED VOICE-OVERS?

3. What movie stands out in your mind as the one which made you cry the most? 'MY LIFE' STARRING MICHAEL KEATON. HANDS DOWN, NO DOUBT WHATSOEVER, ABSOLUT-LY. SOMEONE I CARED FOR DEEPLY HAD RECENTLY DIED OF CANCER WHEN I SAW THAT. A CLOSE SECOND IS AT THE VERY END OF PHILADELPHIA WHERE THEY SHOW THE OLD HOME MOVIES.

4. What is the funniest movie you've seen? What was your favorite part or line from that movie? ANOTHER DIFFICULT CHOICE, HOW TO CHOOSE BETWEEN FAST TIMES, SIXTEEN CANDLES, S.H.A.B., OFFICE SPACE, CHRISTMAS VACATION, BLAZING SADDLES, OLD SCHOOL? I'M PLACING MY MONEY ON 'THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT MARY'. I CAN HEAR THE GROANS FROM HERE, BUT 'FUNNY' TO ME IS CHECK-YOUR-BRAIN-AT-THE-DOOR COMEDY, NOT AGATHA CHRISTIE FUNNY; THAT MOVIE WAS HILARIOUS (IF A BIT GROSS) FROM BEGINNING TO END. FAVORITE LINE: "FRANKS AND BEANS!"

5. Is there a movie which changed your opinion on something? What movie was it? YES. 'PHILADELPHIA'.

6. What is the worst movie you've ever paid to see at the theater? THE WORST MOVIE I HAVE EVER SEEN WAS 'WINDTALKERS' A HORRIBLE RE-TELLING OF A SIGNIFICANT PART OF AMERICAN HISTORY. OR, ANOTHER WASTE OF FILM ON NICHOLAS CAGE, THE COPPOLA FAMILY EMBARRASMENT EVER SINCE 'LEAVING LAS VEGAS'. SINCE I WATCHED THAT AT MY BROTHER'S HOUSE IT CAN'T BE MY ANSWER TO THIS QUESTION.

7. Popcorn? Jujifruits? Licorice? Junior Mints? Nachos? or Raisinettes? POPCORN. IT'S MY ONLY VICE LEFT. WELL, FOOD VICE AT LEAST.

8. Have you ever been intimate with someone while watching a movie at the theater? What movie was it the last time? (Please don't say Schindler's List!) Are you still with this person? SURPRISINGLY NO. BUT THERE'S PLENTY LOVELIES OUT THERE, SO YOU'RE SAYING THERE'S STILL A CHANCE!

9. Have you ever screamed while watching a movie or shouted at the screen? What did you say? YES. DURING ROCKY 3 WHEN MR. T IS KICKING BUTT, I THINK I GOT CAUGHT UP IN THE MOMENT AND SAID SOMETHING LIKE 'SOMEBODY KILL THAT GUY'. I WAS YOUNG.

10. Name your favorite movie soundtrack. Can you remember the part of the movie where your favorite song is played?THIS ONE SENT ME INTO AN UNRECOVERABLE SPIN. I ONLY OWN TWO, FAST TIMES AND DANCES WITH WOLVES. WHEN I WAS IN COLLEGE, I THINK I HAD THE LP FOR PRETTY IN PINK BUT THAT'S LONG GONE. ALL THAT BEING SAID, I DON'T THINK I COULD CONSIDER ANY OF THESE MY FAVORITE, BUT I'M NOT ABLE TO THINK OF ONE AFTER ALMOST A WEEK OF TRYING GOOGLING AND PERUSING MOVIE TITLES BY YEAR. I FELT I COULDN'T PUT THIS OFF ANY LONGER. HOW DO YOU SPELL 'ANTI-CLIMACTIC'?

Filming meme

2005-05-26T03:53:00.000-04:00

Seen a good movie lately? I haven't been to the theater since, well, lets see...., I know I took the kids to see something last fall. What WAS it? (Another gift of the snowboarding concussion, worsening memory.)

Where was I? Oh, yeah! I was talking about movies. I know that Jason has been to see Star Wars: Episode III, but how about the rest of you out there? I especially say "tag" to Shandi, JL, Buffalo and Shaylen.

1. What was the last movie you went to see?

2. What is your all-time favorite movie and why? Did you see it at the theater, or was it a video/DVD?

3. What movie stands out in your mind as the one which made you cry the most?

4. What is the funniest movie you've seen? What was your favorite part or line from that movie?

5. Is there a movie which changed your opinion on something? What movie was it?

6. What is the worst movie you've ever paid to see at the theater?

7. Popcorn? Jujifruits? Licorice? Junior Mints? Nachos? or Raisinettes?

8. Have you ever been intimate with someone while watching a movie at the theater? What movie was it the last time? (Please don't say Schindler's List!) Are you still with this person?

9. Have you ever screamed while watching a movie or shouted at the screen? What did you say?

10. Name your favorite movie soundtrack. Can you remember the part of the movie where your favorite song is played?

Reflections Remix (feat. Shandi)

2005-05-23T00:11:00.000-04:00

The things you see sometimes
Shandi's post on Saturday reminded me that I needed to get this one done. OK, let's see a show of hands: How many of you are red light voyeurs? You know, you're sitting at a red light and check your six, only to find something or someone interesting in the car behind you. Yeah, thaaat's better, I THOUGHT you were!

So, I'm headed cross-town Friday after work to a housewarming party for a co-worker, and two lights into my trip I nonchalantly tip my head back to check out what's behind me. Bingo! There behind me was a nice sporty model with pleasing lines, and the girl driving the Grand Am was rather attractive as well. As I'm wearing shades, I pretend to be taking inventory of my thoughts with my head tipped back so far it gives me a very good view of the lass. 30-ish, nice complexion, luscious straight brunette hair, and she seems to be looking at me.

"Is she on to my game?" I wonder, so I don't move as that's a dead give-away that you just got nailed, you Peeper. It's a rather long light anyway, so I'm afforded the 50 cent extended show and keep my attention fixed on the smoldering flame behind me. Suddenly she tips her head to the right in a brisk snap and inserts her index finger into her ear, digging for gold. After a few cranks the finger is removed. All I can think at this point is "Hmm, interesting." So the horrifying train wreck is on, I can't look away now. I mean, I was remotely enamored after all, but the ear spooning thing raises an eyebrow too.

Now back to her wet-willied pointer, I can only imagine what that must have sounded like as she pulled her finger back out. It must have made a "phlup" sound, because something she harvested had her attention as she was now giving it the once-over with her thumb in the same manner that David Caruso might inspect a substance found at a crime scene. Unable to discern the contents resting under her fingernail, she then resorted to olfactory inspection. Yup, she stuck that finger right under her cute little nose and took a healthy whiff. WHY?! I can see if you're a guy that you might visually check your ear-grinding finger for an errant ear-hair, but for gosh sakes, a beautiful specimen like her must surely maintain her ear canals! Well, no matter, the light turns green so I have to pull away from the light.

After about a block, I notice she's still behind me. "A-ha! She likes the look of Jimmy's Foc-us from the rear!" The game is on! Sure enough, she's positioned right behind me at the next light. Whew! I'm so tired I need to rest my head back again. Let's see what she's doing now.
GAAA! Now she's picking her teeth!!!

With the same finger!!!!!!

And then, she harvested something from between her teeth, inspected it, and evidently found it edible. You know what I mean.

I'm not sure I'm going to be playing my look-at-life-through-a-2-by-8-window game in quite a while. People, learn from my mistakes, please! Some good must come from this travesty.

MMmmememe-meeeee.......

2005-05-22T09:07:00.000-04:00

Me been busy for a few days, but anxious to finish homework. Homework kept Me busy for days:

Replacing garage door opener: Me up til 4am. I promise, although a bit deliberate in reading instructions and following steps (measure twice, cut once) Me busy entire time. Long story. . .
Co-worker has bought her first house, a Lustron home, and had housewarming party Friday night. Me could only go for just over an hour as Wifey and girl-angel went to school camp-out, and boy-angel not allowed. Me and B-A go play mini-golf and eat ice cream. Me fall asleep by 9:30 due to #1 above.
Saturday was busy helping Wifey's master garden plan by moving wood pile, going to both of my angel's baseball games, then pick up after dog, cut grass, grill yummy dinner, shower, and finally-- go to former co-worker's house for party w/ "the gals".

I'm hoping to get my permission slip signed soon.

Shandi was discussing dream themes the other day and the assignment is to reveal dreams relating to 3 categories: erotic, inspiring, and terrifying. I'm assuming we're working with the kind of 'dream' that takes place during R.E.M. sleep and not the daytime wandering-mind fantasy kind. So, here 'goes:

Erotic: There was a recurring one I used to have long ago. She was a beautiful blonde (OK, so I was stereotypical in my youth.) If you've ever seen Kim Basinger in "L.A. Confidential" (before she gets smacked in the face by Russell Crowe's character,) you know what I mean. She was wearing a shimmering gold dress- the strapless kind without sleeves- which appeared to be made from a mylar-type fabric as opposed to one put together with a Ronco Rhinestone and Stud Setter. And man, was it cut just right. If you remember Curly's line in "City Slickers" where he was talking about The One with the sun behind her showing the "shape that God had given her," you know what I mean. This wasn't some kind of tawdry bar-whore dress, either (well, maybe from the waist up;) it was full length and didn't reveal the slightest bit of cleavage. I don't remember that there was even a slit on the side, so I don't know how the poor thing could have walked in the damn thing. Come to think of it, I'm not sure that she walked or even had feet. I just remember that wonderful dress, her wholesome face and being incredibly turned-on by her shoulders (the only part which was naked) and how her body looked in that dress (the other parts I wanted naked. I think I'm self-analyzing here...)

The confusing part is where this takes place: in a field next to a school near my boyhood home. The field had a football field in a bowl on one end and a baseball diamond way down on the other. For some strange reason our meeting takes place on the plateau above the football field. There are no words spoken in this dream, just an extended, hold-on-for-dear-life embrace and a good old-fashioned kiss.

Inspring: Not a lot of detail here as I can't recall any specific ones, or at least there aren't any recurring dreams burned into memory. In general, I think there's a cornucopia of dreams where I play the part of Hero. There are other dreams where I can soar like a bird or a jet-plane, but I'm convinced those took place when I was falling out of bed. On the other hand, Kim Basinger in that gold dress is pretty inspiring, too.

Terrifying: Hold on to your butts, folks! This one was common during many years of my youth. Like Shandi's dream, the first thing I can remember is that I'm running in the woods. Now, I loved being in the woods, but not this time. I'm not sure I can call it woods, it was more like a dark forest. The kind of place were you can't see much other than what's directly in front of you, or the golden eyes of your garden-variety evil creature lurking in the distance. And 'running' probably isn't the best way to describe it, maybe 'scrambling' or 'clambering' is better. I just know that I wanted to get away, and fast because something was after me and it wasn't good. I'm trying as hard as I can to sprint, the kind of exertion where you FEEL the perspiration taking place, but the image I see is slow-motion. It's as if I was running in place on marbles, but when I look down there's nothing but good old terra-firma. (Noteworthy: it's a well-worn path of firmly-packed earth in an otherwise lush environment. I've been here many times.)

I can hear myself breathing, and it's frantic. Not the low tones of someone enjoying their time in the hundred acre wood, but the higher pitch one hears when having difficulty breathing either due to asthma or because a big sibling is sitting on their chest. I hear my heart beating in my eardrums. I can hear footsteps too, but they're not mine because even though I'm running as fast as I can I'm not moving. The footsteps come in rapid clusters ta-da-thwip, ta-da-thwip, ta-da-thwip. The kind only a four-legged creature can make at full gallop, and it's gaining on me. I can hear it breathing; it's panting, but not laboring. It's more like a locomotive out for a Sunday cruise. Closer now, I can feel the tropic breath on my heels and I turn to see what's behind me. Oh no, God no! It's The Wolf. Run! Run faster! You can't let it get you, it will surely kill you. Didn't you see what that wolf did to Old Yeller?!

I'm pumping my arms so fast they are just a blur now, but so is the forest. It's blurring into a dark tunnel, am I about to make the jump to hyperspace? Am I blacking out? I'M STILL NOT MOVING! It's gotta' be close enough to pounce on my back, it's growling the quickening growl of anticipation. I check behind me one more time but something has grabbed my left foot. No, something has stopped my left foot because I'm falling to the ground. It's a gnarled tree root from a towering oak next to the path, even Nature has turned against me. All the air leaves my lungs with a groan when I hit the ground. For some reason, I turn over because you HAVE to watch when the train wrecks, don't you? I'm shackled by the tree root, there will be no escape. The Wolf lands on me with a perfect 4-point touchdown, its forelegs squarely on my shoulders. Pausing only to raise its hackels, snarl, and expose it's fangs; it lunges at my neck. I can only turn my head, close my eyes, and scream for all I'm worth. The wide-mouthed scream where all the veins and tendons pop out of your neck, just like in Pink Floyd's "The Wall". But no sound comes out, there's just darkness. Darkness, and a fan running on Hi, and I can't move because I'm afraid to open my eyes. I'm cold because the perspiration's doing its job, and the fan's in the window doing its job at the same time; drawing in the dewy night air and blowing it across my still, frozen body. My clenched fists hold bed sheets and mattress, if my toes were longer they would too. Minutes pass as I gather my wits and tune my senses to mentally take inventory, for I have to keep playing dead or it will attack again. My jaw hurts because I'm clenching my teeth. I don't feel blood dripping down my neck. My legs are cold, so they must still be there. My breathing is shallow, almost quivering, I hope it doesn't give me away. The air moving across my body is heavy and wet, but cool. Maybe the beast is withdrawing, but I can't hear it breathing because of the fan. Many times they play with their prey before devouring it, right? It could be sitting over in the shadows waiting for me to move. I strain to slowly raise only my right eyelid for that is closest to the ground and must be in the shadows. I can see my closet, I can feel my fan blowing cold air across my body, I can feel my bed, I'm still alive, this HAD to be a dream. But I've been here before.

I was terrified of dogs, either due to this dream or I had this dream because of my fear of dogs.

2005-05-17T23:54:00.000-04:00

Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog. Yes, friends; I'm afraid that I've inadvertently deleted your comments in my exuberant rush to have Haloscan controlled comments that include date and time. Call me blog-newbie, go ahead and say it. Blog-doofus, Blog-noramus, Blog-ago in a land far, far away. . . .

Get Me To the Church on Time

2005-05-10T23:42:00.000-04:00

What a whirlwind weekend I had, my buddy got married! After all this time, and a few near-Mrs., he finally gets the girl. I couldn't be happier for them.

THURS / FRI
It all started with the rehearsal on Thursday followed by tux fitting on Friday. The rehearsal went smoothly, except Bridesmaid #4 hadn't arrived until the good Father had all of us lined-up for the entrances. Then #4 arrived, or should I say spilled into the aisle, plodding towards Bridey. "I'm ssssooooo hhhaaaap-eeeee!" The poor thing recently turned 21 and evidently is still diligently practicing her drunken diction. Needs work.

Luckily, most thought she was just a bubbly girl overcome with emotion, rather than emotionally disturbed overcome by bubbly. The evening was topped-off by the restaurant screwing-up the bride's order. After that, a good time was had by all.

The tux fitting could have been better, this tux shop is small-town and run by mama. Evidently mama can't double-check anything. I'm a 48 long jacket, and I put the coat on and thought it to be comfortably roomy until I tried to button the thing.

Heh-heh! What a sense of humor those folks at After Hours Tuxedos have, sending a good ol' 54 for me. A touch huge. Then, to boot, the vest was cartoonishly large. A whopping 2XL. Mama pulls out the measurements which were faxed to her, and there by the jacket my 48 is crossed off and 54 is written in its place. Mysterious, no?

SATURDAY, THE BIG ONE
Thanks to After Hours Tuxedos (as well as a thoroughly disappointing rental shop,) a return trip on the day of the wedding is in order. This is after a traditional round of golf is squeezed into the morning, plus the 1 hour round trip, not to mention dropping Groomsman# 4 back at his mother's house so he can then gather his family to head for the hotel where the Groom's party is to meet. On my way to the hotel I grab lunch and gas up, because I'm not quite pressed enough for time.

Wouldn't you know it, everything Saturday went flawlessly!

They kissed!

They toasted!

They're not gay! Here comes the happy couple. . .

Now that that's outta the way, after the reception ended things got a bit out of hand. It seems the hotel lounge was having some sort of "Parrot-head" party, complete with a Buffett-esque band playing beach tunes and swim toys. Don't ask.

As always, a happy ending!

DISMISSED!

Heard at the office today:

2005-05-02T21:10:00.000-04:00

Girl behind me: Does anybody have an old computer keyboard at home I can have?

Girl next to me: Oh! I have one in the back of my car! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! I don't have the computer, ha-ha-ha, I just have the keyboard!

Girl behind me: That would be great! I spilled a cup of coffee on mine at home, and I've been trying to work with just the mouse. You don't know how hard it is to be on the internet and just copying/pasting to get the letters for an address. It took me forever.

Girl next to me: I can't believe that I just have the keyboard in the back of my car. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, I'm such a freak!

Why me, Lord? I'm trapped between these two vidiots, nearly every morning they waste at least 1/2 hour discussing last night's talent show or reality series. It's maddening, I tell ya! Girl next to me also has many aliases: Drama Queen, Trailer Trash, Know-it-All, Control Freak, Anything You Can Do I Can Do Betty, and my personal favorite: Barracuda. She can talk and talk and talk and talk and talk and talk and talk until you pass out, and she'll keep right on going. No joke! She even talks to herself, a-lot. That's not including the mumbling (think 'The Hamburglar', but then juice the boy up on mega quantities of coffee.)

I imagine my life at the office is much like the poor saps in the movie "The Saw". I get up to leave for a few minutes, you know, "go for a walk." Still, I can't get away from her, she's managed to end-up in the same place.

God is a cruel, cruel being. Some days I lose the will to live.

Things that make you go 'Hmm'

2005-04-29T22:47:00.000-04:00

I was reading Barton's blog today and his entry reminded me of something which happened last week (like I said,I'm still a beginner.)

Anywho- we were on a business trip to a smaller town in Missouri, complete with factories, a town square surrounding the courthouse, and a state college!
Population: 10,000.

Now, being prone to quick judgments (and living in a city of 200,000+) one immediately thinks 'Nashville Star' as opposed to 'MTV's Cribs'. I mean, after all, society has trained us that 'small town' = 'Walmart' while 'Big City' = 'DKNY', right? My point being: that you wouldn't expect to find 'Club Scene'-- even Rural America's version of 'Club Scene' --in this place. 10 gallon hats and day/night cowboy boots, maybe. Country music, definitely.

The kicker about this little hamlet is there's not one, but three bars playing urban faves. Two of 'em are complete with DJ's and hangers-on, of all things. You've got all the 'Big City' treatments: doormen (who also know how to slaughter meat, bale hay, etc.,) cover charges, ladies nights, beautiful people, Red Bull,vodka and Jäger Bombs. It's almost surreal: walk out of the watering hole on the corner (replete with stainless steel piss troughs, shuffleboard, pool table and plenty of beer)and walk next-door where you enter through a darkened tunnel into a thumping, pulsating, sweaty mess. But when you wake up and look out that motel window it's back to the rolling, windy prairie.

So, my work mate is quite a toned fella, master playa, OTH 5 nights a week keeping his liver in fighting shape. He lives to party, and does it well. Let's call him Man Dibbles, or MD for short. We were quite tipsy by 11, having had an extremely early 3-hour dinner with the higher-ups (who we promptly ditched just after arriving at the motel.) At about that level of inebriation, MD gets into ho-dar mode and stealthily circles the perimeter of the dance floor, searching for a lockable target. I usually am leaning by this point, observing the master at work.

On this particular evening I saw something which I had never seen before: a quite-openly gay lad. Of course, the girls he was there with were drop-dead gorgeous so MD was lurking in the shadows, focusing ho-dar beams in their direction. At some point I look over at MD and there's QOGL talking to him like they're old pals. "Hmmm" I says to myself. "This ought to be interesting."

In no uncertain terms, I could never have imagined that their conversation would go on for so long. When it finally ended, curiosity got the better of me and I just HAD to know. It turns out that QOGL wanted to know if MD was there with me. ME! Like I was MD's bitch or something. QOGL wouldn't take 'NO' for an answer, either. He was quite the persistant fellow; I was waving the golden-ringed left hand in front of him/her and shouting "I'm married!!!" QOGL was undeterred at first, but my will was strong and eventually QOGL got the hint.

It was hil-f'ing-arious, so funny that when the ladies finally showed up (they took a very late flight,) we had to share the entire story with them during the afterglow back at MD's room. It was repeated in detailed fashion, and unfortunately these ladies don't keep secrets. (Clueless man-question: Do they ever?) By the time we arrived at the factory office the next morning, the story of QOGL had flashed through at a speed heretofore unseen outside of wildfire season during the Santa Ana winds. We were the butt of many, many good-natured ribbings that day. I guess ya' had to be there.

Good Times, good friends.

Step One: Think Positive

2005-04-29T02:30:00.000-04:00

Today's image is another oldie, a lovely Iris poking out from the bricks which formerly surrounded a pool in the backyard (may the beast rest in peace.)

Still a bit down about Michelle's passing, I thought I'd post this to symbolize something positive. I could get all poetic about humanity's struggle to overcome, how beauty shines through all the crap, blah, blah, blog! That's not it. I think I was just glad to see the sun shining brightly today. We had a terrific March, very warm, no snow, no storms, and then BAM! As soon as spring break was over it got brutally cold for the rest of April. There was a nice snowstorm over much of the state last weekend too, but thankfully it avoided my own private Idaho. Still, it was not even 40 degrees, and we had a good three days of nasty wind. You'da thunk this was Nebraska or sumthin'.

Not very convincing, am I? I agree, but hey, it's a start. Thinking back to Theodore Guisel's brilliant work, I'm going to borrow a line from 'Horton Hears a Who', then flip it and reverse it: A start's a start, no matter how small!

Take it or leave it, but if you take it, how's about, y'know, a little something for the effort?

That's about as naughty as I get, (well, OK. Not really......) So I will try my best to be on my bestest behavior from now on. Scout's honor!

Thanks for stopping by-

Think pink -aka- I don't know what this shrub is, do you?

2005-04-27T00:10:00.000-04:00

Just testing a new toy, "ImageShack".

This picture was taken a few years ago after an April snowstorm in Michigan. A late-winter surprise, if you will. This was taken with my first digital camera, an HP C200 1MP. Ugh! It was difficult to work with (see how it focused on the branches in the back?,) sucked the juice faster than a T-ball team after a game, and could only handle a CF card up to 32MB. Woo-hoo!

Test completed! Close your blue books and set your pencils down.

An Angel Returns

2005-04-24T21:13:00.000-04:00

Is this Heaven?

Monday was an incredibly sad day. That morning, as I entered the office, I was informed that a co-worker's step-daughter had died after an accident while riding a PWC on a nearby lake. This was such an incredible shock, she was 18 years old and getting ready to graduate from high school, and literally had blossomed into a wonderful, dynamic young woman.

Mourning a loss is seldom easy. Regrettably, I barely knew Michelle and somehow that makes it harder to get through this tough time. Over the last few years I've been to their home a handful of times and had the typical brief exchanges you'd expect (Hi, nice to meet you, etc.) I guess it had been at least 2 or 3 years since I last saw her. At that time she was still outgrowing the awkwardness so common to a teenager, but the things I remember so vividly about her were her smile (it was always there) and her bounce. She seemed to bounce when she walked, the telling bounce of a person both confident and truly happy.

All of us at work were invited to their home one evening to share some time together with them, along with their family and friends. They had gathered some things and set them on and near the hearth. There was a number of formal dresses, a collection of her favorite shoes, her JV and varsity letters, baby shoes, a large print of her senior portrait. I was shocked, she had grown much!

As many had already arrived, her step-father was explaining how he was fortunate to be home when the call came. He was on a trip to Japan and wasn't scheduled to be home for another day, but decided to try and come home a day early. The airline didn't sound too confident, yet for some reason he embarked on the 2-hour trip to the airport anyway. Everything seemed to come together in a manner so perfect, the bus left just after he boarded, as did the train. When he arrived at the airport, the ticket counter was just opening up but they had already arranged a seat on the flight for him. He was home less than an hour when the phone rang. The circumstances certainly make you think about a higher power, but it truly was fortunate that he was able to be there for his wife as they hurried to the hospital, waited for the airlift helicopter, the hours while the ER team did their best to reviver her, and finally when they made the decision to give the gift of life.

The newspaper story
The obituary
The on-line guest book

2005-04-17T02:22:00.000-04:00

Aren't they precious?! The little gems!
Posted by Hello

Folks back east R thinkin' "Now why don't he write?"

2005-04-16T22:24:00.000-04:00

OK! I've been a very bad boy. I get a new toy, play with it twice and then leave it on the floor in the basement to become spider bait. Nice!

I must admit, I've been visiting a few blogs lately but haven't felt the creativity to dive-in and take the plunge. (Easy now, two cliches in the same sentence. I feel an intervention coming.......)

So, on to the visits: Barton's, Michele's, Mrs. Darling's

Today was a major down day. It started out beautifully, clear blue sky, temps warmed quicky into the 60's, things were looking good for Little League field day. Then it happened. Squish......the laundry tub had overflowed. Mrs. Jim was less than pleased: laundry is on the main floor, and storage rooms are below in that area of the basement. Lots of cardboard down there. So, we spent hours sopping up the mess of water mixed with dust bunnies from under the washer and the stove. Not to mention the basement was an abomination as the kiddies have a perrennial mess down there, so we cleared that out too. Due to this, we (the kids and I) missed attending the field day, they were really looking forward to it.

So, the good news is the basement has been restored to some form of order. The bad news is wifey's hopes for a productive day of restoring life to the flower beds were dashed. This means I've got more bills to pay. Great!

Sleepy.........

2004-10-16T21:02:00.000-04:00

DAY 2- Alright, all right! So it's been a week since we last chatted. Oh well- get over it! It's truly been a rough week, esp. w/ all the uncertainty surrounding the mothership moving duties west. Rumor has it they are eliminating 15 positions betw. all 3 centers, and they will use only 5 (yes, I said FIVE) at the corp office, and those are rumored to be temps (which means they'll get stepped-on, won't have insurance, etc.) What are they smoking out there? They just don't get it, and they have no plan to address sinking market share w/ their products, they're just wildly cutting costs without a single regard for effect. Deep thinkers fer shur......

BLOG-JAM

2004-10-09T20:06:00.000-04:00

Day 1- wtf? Figured "Y not? I'll give it a try." I was motivated by a VT-er's blog. She's got a thing for feet, a VT-er I'd like to meet. You get nowhere if you don't at least try it. Sounds like where I work, alotta people getting nowhere there. Just yesterday the Wizards at corporate decided to eliminate all order services at our regional warehouses and have it out at corporate (staffed by temps.) *Nice!* Their product has 2000 dealers, ours has 7000+. Their dealers might sell 75,000 units total, we're pushing 500,000 this year. When our dealers call, they often need help on parts lookups, etc., and sometimes the order services folks aren't sure so they can walk over to our division for better information. It's a long walk from the West coast to Michigan, so that (moving 'em all to the happy kingdom) won't work. That's just the tip of the iceberg as far as negative impacts on our Division's business goes. Doesn't feel very safe and comfy at the K- mart anymore.