The problem for me is that it is a huge water-waster, especially when you factor in the matter that after a bath I MUST shower off. *Quick fact: a bath generally uses around 40 gallons of water while a shower uses roughly 10 to 20 gallons*
Back to my luxurious bathing experience. First of all, me getting into a bathtub is like scooping up 500 pounds of gelatinous goo and dumping it into a kitchen sink. Not a pretty sight and it
doesn't really all fit. What was most amusing to me was that when I finally had the tub filled with scalding hot water and suds galore (from about half a bottle of hair shampoo and Hello Kitty bath beads), I managed to scoot back and lay down in the water as my knees jammed into the faucet. As I slowly took a nice deep relaxing breath, one of the 35 bath toys hanging precariously from some perch somewhere comes crashing down into my parietal bone to reopen my coronal suture which somehow managed to grow together nicely as a baby and stay intact all of these years before I became a supposed responsible parent. Cussing quickly followed.It's o.k. though. Mood broken...but nothing a few deep breaths can't take care of. As I again started to feel the tensions of a man with a dead-end career slowly melt away, another problem came to the forefront. It seems that if you envelope me in a reasonable amount of water (especially warm water), whether it be a bathtub a public pool or the ocean, my body slowly loses all control of continence. So this time I decide to get out and finish that business without adding another vile element to this already-nasty cesspool teeming with lint, body hair, and who-knows-what-else.
I rummage through a bin of potions next to the bath to find a cute little bottle from the folks at Bath and Body Works. It has a pretty picture of a lilac on it so I open the cap and dump most of it in the tepid water below and stand above my brew like a Macbethian witch concocting some potion involving various quantities of "Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog." Unfortunately, after emptying it out I see that this microscopic bottle's contents used to cost $5.99...which equates to nearly 3 bucks a serving size which is much too much money to spend on this whole "hygiene" episode as it is.
Bottom line: Conservatively speaking (factoring in water usage, water heater, and soap products) this 15 minutes ended up costing me about $35 bucks...but at least my hairy ass now smells like lilacs...which is nice.
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I was driving upon an overpass across the highway recently when I saw some writing on the concrete. Later, I returned and remembered to try to decipher what it said. I slowed my truck down and to my surprise, it was some biblical passage. Call me crazy, but isn't there something intrinsically wrong with vandalizing public property in order to spread the good lord's "word"?
As you're frantically shaking up the can of Rustoleum wouldn't you notice the WWJD wristband you're wearing and think to yourself "Would What Jesus Spray Paint on this Concrete Barrier?"
Which raises an interesting question...was there a 13 Apostle named Krylon? Something to think about.
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Our quest for new kitchen appliances is now over. We purchased a new refrigerator (rated the best "freezer on the bottom" by Consumer Reports. I'm proud to say this because I was leafing through photocopies of three issues of Consumer Reports while the salemen at each store droned on and on) I came to the conclusion after the "installation" process that I will NEVER again install things on my own. EVER. You think to yourself, "just pull the old one out, hook up the new one and slide it in...easy". But in My World, it never goes that smoothly. Even after your 13th trip to the hardware store to get the right parts, things still don't go back together the way they should. This is where my new best friend Joe comes in. He an older gentleman that has a handyman service. The wife calls him, after assuring me that I'm still a man even though I can't complete simple household tasks. A few hours and a tax return check later, the task is done.
I don't know if this makes me fruity or not, but I was so excited to run a cycle through the new dishwasher. When I opened up the door, I could barely see the shining gleaming glasses that had just been cleaned through the tears in my watering eyes. Happiness overcame me as I realized I no longer have to re-wash them by hand. It should be noted that the kitchen is my domain. Wifey takes care of crying babies, dirty clothes (sorting/folding), and various other tasks...I control the kitchen.
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My sister and I have spoken about this before. If (or when) I become leader of this country, my first order of business is to pass a law that decrees that "No Non-working person shall be allowed to patronize a fast-food restaurant from the hours of 12 noon through 1 pm during the work week"
There's nothing better than those of us who keep the pistons of this machine we call "America" pumping than hustling to the burger joint so we can get some sustenance and get back to work as Grandma Clare and her unwed grand-daughter's bastard child come shuffling ahead of you in line while they try to decide if they want the Beanie Buddy or the Barbie watch with their happy meal. "Do you want the nuggets or the hamburger...do you want a Sprite or Fruit Punch...hmm...do you want curly fries or regular...." I feel like saying, "Do you want me to stick the heel of my boot into the back of your replaced knees?!?". These people need to get out of the way so we can eat and get back to work.
As far as laws go, I am more and more on board with my wife's plan that it should be illegal to have your Christmas lights up after January. However, if your lights are still up and they are "ON", then I should be allowed to go up and just snip them with some wire cutters.
Wifey also has a good idea with people driving way too slow. It should be legal for you to just go up and nudge them with the front of your car. See, when I drive I don't really speed much (unless it's on the highway, then all bets are off...it's like the freakin Autobahn to me out there). I usually stay within the speed limit but when I get into town and the speed limit is, say, 35 and there's a guy in front of me going 25, I should be allowed by law to run into the back of him, take the air off of his spoiler and see him spin out as I look gleefully back at him in my rearview mirror.
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Some sad local news making the rounds. Marion Glass, founder of Marion's Pizza in the Dayton area died this past weekend. He was 92. It leaves a giant hole in my heart and a hunger pang in
my belly as I think of his passing. Marions has, without a doubt, the best pizza around. I'm sure his stores will continue to operate. My wife even suggested we should make a trip, nay, a pilgrimage to one of his pizzerias this weekend in his honor. Whether it's the very dated photos of him with the likes of Barry Williams, Zsa Zsa Gabor, Tom Poston, Joe Namath and a wide array of B-List stars in their butterfly collars and bell-bottoms hanging on the walls...or the lighting they use inside that makes you think it's 4:30 in the afternoon when, in fact it's 11:30 at night and pitch-black out...Marion's remains the perfect pizza joint. Rest in Pizza, I mean Peace, Marion.*************************
If someone offered me one week to work at any business in the area, I think that I would sign up to work at The Hot Tan Cafe as either a receptionist or the tanning-bed-wipe-down-guy. My route to and from work often takes me by this local tanning salon and I've managed to come away with a general observation that I would like to pass on to you, as a friend...You will be hard-pressed to find many women in a tanning salon that are not, how do you say....HOT. I'm guessing that it's on a rare occasion that some toothless whale comes wobbling in. Hey, I'm not condemning tanning beds nor am I condoning them. All I am stating are facts through scientific observations that I have been able to uncover through my many years of passing this facility on my way home from work. Say what you will, but you can't argue the empirical data I have painstakingly collected. It's what I do. It's my service to mankind
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I've given up shaving for Lent. (me, pictured to the right) I've also given up self deprivation but that's an old joke and I didn't want to lead with that one. Not really a big sacrifice on my part as I really don't enjoy shaving.
Wifey says that she wishes there were a pill she could take that would substitute eating, sleeping, and going to the bathroom. Actually, those are three things that bring me my greatest joy of the day. I like to eat...a lot. Sleeping is so so so good. And going to the bathroom is the only quiet time I get to myself (and the only time I read). But back to the pill theory. I wish I could have a pill to eliminate the need for personal grooming on my part. I like my hair short but hate haircuts. I would prefer my teeth be sparkling and white yet I hate to scrub the woofers. I would rather my rank rear-end not give forth a putrid smell that reminds some of the depths of hell after a free chili and beer buffet...but not a big fan of showering/bathing (see above). If I could pop a pill to eliminate all of that stuff, my day would then open up to allow me more time to golf, play video games, and watch t.v. which is all very important.********************
Went on vacation to Florida recently. The single worst thing about vacation is this: Upon returning to work you are asked this question a minimum of 29 times..."How was your vacation?". Let's break this question down a little bit. Hmm...Let's see, I'm returning to a hellish vocation after being away for an extended period of time. I happened to have been in Tampa where it was roughly 75 degrees with nary a cloud in the sky. Now I am back. How do you answer this? It's like "what color is blue?" It's Blue! Vacations are good, period! This is why your job limits the number of vacation days you can have because, quite honestly, I would take a hell of a lot more if there was no limit.
And really, do the people that ask how your vacation was really care if you enjoyed yourself? NO! "I was really concerned for Fred while he was in Tahiti. I was so worried he wasn't having a good vacation while I toiled away here, staying late as I tried to make up his work"
Another great thing about vacation is the days before you are going to be off work. Someone can call and say "On Thursday, we're going to deliver 30 truckloads of pig crap that you must unload by hand with gardening shovels" and you can just smile knowing that at quitting time on Wednesday, you could give a rat's ass less about what happens. "Hell, only 30 truckloads? Double it!" you say with a smile on your face and your thoughts on your vacation.
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Speaking of vacations, I suppose I should take this opportunity to fill you in on my recent one. My wife's cousin Alex was getting married in Tampa so the four girls and I hopped onto a plane and headed south. Plane tickets for all of us was quite expensive but it is a small price to pay for sanity because there's no way I would drive more than 5 hours with a car full of women (unless they were all hot political interns). As I've grown a little older I have gained a bit more patience. Having said that, I'm not sure I could endure a monumental trip like that without snapping like a postal worker. Plus, anyone who knows me knows that whenever said event is over, I'm ready to be home...NOW. Football game finishes? I will be jogging for the door and jumping into the traffice jam while many of my friends would just take their time to "let the traffic clear". So on that final day of my vacation I'm ready to be home a.s.a.p.
Anyhow, the wedding was spectacular. I don't get too geeked up about weddings mostly for the simple fact that I'm a guy and guy's don't really care about weddings. Receptions? That's another story. But I really enjoyed this wedding. First and foremost, it was great seeing Alex get hitched to a really nice, pretty, fun girl. She's wonderful. Another reason was that it was held outside next to the ocean on a perfect afternoon. Finally, the reason why this wedding was "tops" was that it was short. Short and sweet...lovely music being played by a three piece ensemble, the very nice parade of the wedding party down the aisle, the handing-off of the bride by her father, the vows, the kiss...badda-bing, badda-bang...let's go to the reception, baby! All women in attendance should be given a copy of that wedding on video to study because it was an example of how something doesn't have to be "overdone" to be beautiful and special. This is how it should be done folks. No mass, no frass...music, march, vows, kiss, done. I had tears in my eyes as I looked down at my watch and realized how quickly we would be at the reception and subsequent free beverages. Very emotional.
Without going into too much detail I want to comment a bit on the reception. It was top-notch. Well done on every end. Great food, fantastic room, nice toasts. Then the band came out to get the dancing started. I must say, I was a little apprehensive about having a live band. You just never know what you'll get sometimes. Sometimes, people clamor for some of their classic wedding songs to be played by the D.J. But to my surprise, the band was (to my memory) about 7 pieces with a horn section, bass, guitar, drummer and singer. Without a doubt, they proved me wrong. They were awesome while playing everything from standard wedding fare to Motown to drop-dead Funk.
My wife and I were still on the dance floor as the cake-cutting ceremony began and the drummer began a funktacious beat and the rest of the band joined in. We stood there in awe as they broke into this jaw-dropping freelance song while the lead singer made up words like "Time to cut the cake, Time to cut the cake...Save the band a piece, Save the band a piece". I can't describe it but it was probably my favorite moment of the entire day.
No wedding is complete until the services of my brother in law are called upon. You see, Matt has rightfully attained this status of "Dance Legend" on the local wedding circuit and this was his moment to go nationwide...interstate, baby! Needless to say, he did not disappoint as throngs of fans gathered around just to be near him as he busted move after move. We were all worshipping at the House of Dance and Deacon Matt was delivering the Liturgy of the Groove. Women yearn to be near him, men study his every move in hopes of being like him.
To top it off, the band asked for some requests and I yelled to the band (for some reason) "Play some G.Love" after earlier yelling "Freebird". At that moment the jumped into some "Cold Beverage" by G. Love and the Special Sauce. Not sure how the night could improve after that.
Besides the wedding, I was able to catch two spring training games. My rule was that I did NOT want to see the Red Sox and/or Yankees play because they always draw a lot of fans and, to me, that's not what Spring Training is about. Plus, most Yankees fans...like most NY City folks are assholes. But S. Training in my mind is a nearly empty stadium and hearing the crack of the bat and the chatter emanating from the dugout. It's sitting anywhere you please with a cold draft pilsner and that firery glowing orb of gas in the sky the reminds you of that thing called the "Sun" that used to appear back home many months ago.
Well, due to the logistics of it all, I had no choice but to catch the Yankees play on saturday. The good news was that they played the Reds. In typical fashion, I got there about10:30 am for 1:15 game. One thing about the Yankees field, it was very nice and professional but it was not at all "comfortable" or friendly. It was all business and it kinda' put me off a bit. The ushers were rude and I even watched security go way beyond "hassling" a guy for waving a Reds pennant. Very strange.
Luckily my cousin Ben got he and I tickets to the Devil Rays game on Monday. Unfortunately, they were playing...guess who...the Red Sox and their throngs of fans. What typically would have been a half empty stadium was now a sold out show...but we did manage to score tickets seven rows from the field behind home plate. Very nice. 3/4 of the fans were rooting for the Sox but it was a different, friendlier atmosphere. There was some good-natured ribbing of each team's fans and wasn't too fancy and didn't offer a lot of glitz along with 46 different kinds of condiments. It was basically a beer/soda/hot dog kinda place...and it was refreshing.
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After the wedding festivities we had a great time just hanging around Pam and George's house. They were extremely gracious hosts and incredibly generous. I can't imagine keeping my sanity while planning for a wedding, having relatives converge on your house, do the wedding, and then accommodate them for a few days after. They were awesome and I want to thank them!
We were planning on taking the two oldest girls to Disney for one day. We weren't taking the baby because it should be against Florida state law to take any child under two to this park. Save your money, they don't enjoy it.
As luck would have it, my dad is working near Orlando so we were able to work it out to get over to his place the night before and visit. He stays in a condo about 15 minutes from the park entrance so we could sleep in and just zip right over to the park quite easily.
The day there was great. The girls had an absolute blast. I'm convinced that the main reason we shell out money to take them to places like this is for mainly our own memories, not just theirs. There were so many moments when one couldn't help but do anything but smile at the pure enjoyment and happiness of one's kids while there. It was like the "happiest place on Earth"...so I am told. Plus, it is the only place on Earth where our nearly-4 year old child can instantly become "almost 3" while stepping up to the ticket booth (kids under 3 yrs. old...Free). It's probably wrong to pull your kids aside moments before we purchase tickets from this global multi-trillion dollar business and tell them "if we say Sophia is not 3 don't argue...just nod and smile real cute...Got it?!?" But to save $65 bucks I would have contemplated selling a kidney or something for that kinda' dough.
Not only did we see tons of amazing things but I also got to witness the beauty of the electric cart. Ideally, the three wheeled powered chairs are to help the disabled and/or elderly get around the park. Unfortunately, the powered carts aren't only for the disabled and/or elderly anymore. Mostly they are used by incredibly fat assed lazy people who can't put forth the effort to walk 15 feet from the Dumbo ride to the Teacup ride. I love seeing them bump into folks lugging their kids around while their legs are splayed open because of the layer upon layer of lard built up on their thighs doesn't allow them to shut their legs...all while sucking down the 55 gallon drum sized Mountain Dew that is perched in the basket up front and attached, like a feeding tube, to their mouths by a notably long straw. They wizz past everyone in line, park their cart at the front and instantly find the strength and courage to jog, yes jog to the next open seat on Thunder Mountain. This makes me very happy. I'll bet my tax dollars are being used somewhere in this process.
Which reminds me of a lady I saw today at the grocery. She was a svelte 480 as she zipped by me in her electric cart and made a beeline for the two tables where the little old ladies give out samples of food and drink. She gets a cup full of some cookie concoction and then gasses it over to the lady with the sports drink table where, upon arrival, is handed a Dixie cup full of sports drink which she downs like a young man downing a shot on the night of his bachelor party. My gut tells me that the scientist in the lab at Gatorade weren't designing this replenishing drink with her in mind. She tosses the cup aside like a Kenyan during a marathon and heads directly for the storage bin full of "Sale" candy bars where she loads up her basket. Again, I know money is being taken out of my paycheck somehow to fund her existence.
Anyway...back to Disney. I was proud of my oldest as she braved Thunder Mountain (a roller coaster geared to us older, more daring types) and immediately after we got off she said, "Let's go again!!!" Also, I'm proud that when given the choice to stand in line for "more than an hour" to see a roomful of princesses or hit the Goofy rollercoaster they, without hesitation, said "rollercoaster!!!"...a sigh of relief rushed over me.
Disney is not my favorite place in the world but again, it's not about me. When you see the complete joy, wonderment, and excitement in their eyes you realize that it may, in fact, be a little bit about "you" as you get to enjoy it from a different perspective. Side note...when asking our kids recently where they would like to go "next time", Sophia quickly said, "Las Vegas"...that's my girl!
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Finally, thanks for those of you who have left comments. Please leave more. Newbies, you don't have to "register" or anything, just leave comments as a guest. I appreciate any feedback. If you have a complaint, see some misspellings (I had to look "misspelling" up to see if I spelled it right...seriously), or have any ideas to make your visit a bit more enjoyable, please let me know. I'm not a professional (no kidding, Shakespeare) and my time to type is usually interupted as I'm distracted from screaming at the kids as I throw an old hambone to them while they stay in the pit I have dug in the basement*, so any corrections, suggestions, etc...are encouraged.
*no children were harmed in the writing of this rubbish...yet*
