Friday, November 03, 2006

Back with more crap!

Welcome back all! Things have been very busy around here lately and my computer time is limited. Between me working towards my doctorate, my wife opening a shelter for stray and abandoned pets, and my children's cello lessons there is little opportunity for me to plop my big ass down to pound out word after word of utter nonsense. Having said all of that, let's get right to the big show
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If you've ever read any of this blog, you've probably noticed that baseball is near and dear to my heart. If I had to chose between the national pasttime and football, I wouldn't dare pick either because I love them both, yet each hold a special place in my heart. I rooted hard for Detroit because they were the "underdog" and the fact they knocked the crap out of the Yankees. I heard a comedian the other day say (roughly) that rooting for the Yankees is like "rooting for the dealer in blackjack".
Speaking of baseball, the Reds' season is obviously over but it was my most favorite and fulilling season yet. One reason is that I had a lot of outdoor projects this year. For one, I tore down my old chicken coop and rebuilt it into a beautiful, gleaming shed (with much help from Matt and Gill...thanks boys). Many a night I stood out there and listened to entire games while painting or whatever. I witnessed, through radio or tv, some of the greatest moments this season...one being Adam Dunn's walk-off grand slam against the Indians. My three daughters and my wife and I were sitting in the living room watching the Reds load the bases and I said, in a wishing voice, "Just get a hit for once, Dunn!". The pitch, the swing and I just jumped up and screamed. It hadn't even cleared the infield and I knew it was gone! The kids were crying because I scared the piss out of them. Later this season, we were all in the kitchen watching the game and listening to Marty on the radio. David Ross came up as Marty said "this guy has the potential to end this game". 2 outs, down by 1, man on....pitch and BOOM. Marty's call on the radio was epic. I was going crazy! I was jumping up and down in the hallway and ran outside and was yelling. What a finish! Marty is the best announcer in all of baseball. Sadly, the Reds didn't make the playoffs and even more heartbreaking was to find out that Marty's cohort in the booth, Steve Stewart (aka: The Bad Boy), wouldn't be returning. It was like losing a good friend...a friend who had been there on those late nights while I worked on the shed who painted that picture of baseball through the AM radio waves. I loved the guy and his entire approach toward calling the game.
I was fortunate enough to catch the final game of the year on the radio as I was driving home from New York. Marty applauded Steve on his fine work, his class, and his dignity. Steve tried to talk and literally broke down in tears. Needless to say, my eyes were a bit moist too. Not that he'd ever read this, but I want to thank Steve for some great memories the past couple of years and for being the background for many a summer evening.
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My wife recently called me at work to tell me that she stayed up late last night and payed some bills whilst watching some shows that she taped. Actually, she "tivo'd" them...which, for those that don't know, works like a modern-day VCR by recording shows digitally onto a hard drive. So she tells me that she has a few episodes of Oprah that she's catching up on when she sees a really old episode of Ms. Winfrey's show still saved on there. She wondered why she had kept it so long, that is, until she pushed Play and watched it again.
To set this up properly, there was a recent Saturday Night Live skit where a fake Oprah was doing her show and basically everytime she spoke, the audience (made up of cast members) went berzerk!. She kept giving away prize packs to the audience and everytime she mentioned what it was, they'd show the ladies in the "audience" get increasingly more excited until eventually the ladies were doing cartwheels, punching each other, throwing chairs and...a close up of a lady (Rachel Dratch) so overwhelmed that her head popped off. It makes me laugh thinking about it right now. Wifey and I laughed so hard that one Saturday night that we about peed our pants. It's something that has stuck with us. So, back to the reason she saved this episode. After viewing it, it dawned on her that she saved it to show me because it was one of those shows where Oprah gives the audience all kinds of swag and the ladies were going nutso for it. I'm so excited to see it.
It always makes me laugh when I'm flipping through the channels in the afternoon trying to find a show to watch while I clear out the dishwasher or prepare dinner and I happen to stop on Ellen DeGeneres' show. Much like Oprah, I kinda' like Ellen too. She's funny and, unlike fellow carpetmuncher Rosie O'Donnell, she has a likeable personality. She's the Anti-Rosie. Her big thing is that she dances through the crowd after her monologue. If you look closely, you'll see this crowd of predominately women, whipped into a frothy frenzy, start shakin' what the good lord gave 'em. Undoubtedly you'll see some Suzy Homemaker, who hasn't been away from the kids for 11 years when she first gave birth and is married to a very successful, stiff-shirt wearing husband who has a penchant for wine collecting and pouring over his money-market funds...you'll see her so fired up that she'll be doing some pole-type dance like you'd see on the shady end of town at a place called the Honey Pot or Pussycat's, she's so into the moment that she doesn't realize she bumping and grinding in the aisle by herself while the rest of America, her turtleneck wearing children, and her astounded husband sit with mouths agape in sheer and utter bewilderment. I reckon it's kinda like the Girls Gone Wild videos. These skinny, barely pubescent girls all hopped up on shooters of fruity shot-type drinks have enough wits about them to sign the waiver (essentially giving permission to the producers to rake in the cash and some dirtbag at home to oogle them) and then realize the next day that, hey...I was just on national television shaking my rump for the entire world to see. It has to be a horrible feeling.
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Watched the Johnny Cash movie the other night. I've learned a few things about movies in general. One lesson: most movies need to have 30-45 minutes of content removed from them. This movie was no different. For example, even an instant classic like Wedding Crashers turned into a temporary yawner midway through as they try to lay some lame storyline on us. No..don't stay with the hilarity that started from scene one and would have remained if you hadn't decided to turn it into a chick flick in the middle. Walk the Line was the same. However, despite the momentum killing melancholy in the middle ofthe Johnny Cash movie, it was very well done. Reece Witherspoon is adorable (I'm using that word for the second time in my life...see:Natalie Portman in Garden State). She's adorable teetering on incredibly hot in a Jennifer-Aniston-girl-you-could-actually-know-and-talk-to way. Joaquin Phoenix was very good as well. Very convincing. This movie was a lot like Ray, the story about Ray Charles. Both featured incredible acting (which normally I care little about), out-of-this-world music, and interesting main characters. Unfortunately, both films also dwelled a lot on the rough times each singer had. Personally, I like my world to be a candy coated sing-along with much happiness and glee...same with my movies.
Comparing these two movies has me thinking...the next inevitable movie they should make should focus on the life and times of The Possum, Mr. George Jones. Now that would be a story! It would have everything that Ray and Walk the Line had....great music and stories of the performers who went through some extremely rough patches on their ascent to stardom. We'd have to wait until George Jones dies which could take awhile considering all of his major organs are now pickled due to his excessive partying habits which earned him his nickname of "No Show Jones" as he lay passed out backstage. Mark my words...it's coming.
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We tend to watch a lot of Jeopardy in our house perhaps because I have an unhealthy attraction toward the omnipotent Alex Trebeck and the way he rolls his "R"s when he pronounces a Spanish word. I promise you this (and it has repeatedly been noted by my wife) that I will answer 9 outof 10 questions correctly during Teen Week. Those stupid kids are no match for my uncanny ability to know senseless trivia! Anyway, a while back one of the participants on television answered in the form of a question. While this was going on, my wife and I were talking about something when my oldest daughter Anna raised her hand. See, we have been having this problem of the children interrupting us so we made them raise their hand if they had something to say...for a while. So we wrap up our short talk and tell Anna to proceed. She says very excitedly that "That guy on t.v. doesn't even know what a pond is!!" The wife and I both were a little confused when Anna went on to say "Yeah...he said ' What is apond' !!!". Bless her little heart, she couldn't believe that this grown man on television had to ask what a pond was when in reality he was just answering in the form of a question. She was so serious and yet so awestruck that this guy didn't know something as simple as that.
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I planted a few trees this year and have planted some here and there throughout the years. It is now time for me to impart some facts that I have learned during these experiences. From my bro-in-law (and faithful reader) Matt: Trees go through three stages of growth in their first three years. Sleep, Creep, and Leap. The first year, they kind of linger around soaking up sun, guzzling water and generally making me wonder why I plunked down the money to buy trees when, in fact, I feel they should be free. The second year, they creep along, growing a bit, getting acclimated to their new environs and ready to explore a new world. The third year, they leap into action and really start growing. They're done laying around and they want to provide the shade and windbreaking opportunities that they were destined for. I have witnessed this phenomena first hand and it is factual.
My dad said to "water a tree like you're trying to drown it." Pretty straight-forward. Trees need an abundant amount of water early in their lives as their tender little roots slowly grow. By trying to drown them, you are just making sure you keep them adequately watered. This does not work for water lillies. I've tried to drown them and those suckers keep growing. I've even thrown them into ponds before...and they keep growing! Huh...
Finally, someone (author unknown) once said "Dig a forty dollar hole for a 20 dollar tree". Again, simple stuff here, but this just insures that you (the hole digger) provide enough growing room and loosened soil for this young sapling to start its journey toward arbor heaven. So grab a shovel and get out there and plant a tree, it's good for the soul!
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Halloween has recently passed and we are now inundated with about 25 lbs of candy in our house. Soon after our kids' teeth rot out, I will throw the rest in the trash. Halloween is a pretty good "holiday" in the fact that it's pretty fun but mostly because it's over in a few hours. Unlike Christmas, which for my family, is a 31 day festival of travel...going to and fro to be at this gathering or this party, Halloween starts around 6 pm on a weeknight and is over a few hours later. Brilliant! If only all holidays could be like this I would be able to look ahead with glee at the coming of the Christmas season! This year, my middle daughter Sophia went as a Horsegirl, not a cowgirl...duh! There's a difference in Sophie's eyes with her main point being the fact that she's "never seen a girl ride a cow...but has seen a girl ride a horse". When you think about it, she's right. It's the whole No Driving on a Driveway/No Parking on a Parkway theory.
My oldest, Anna, is shaping up to be like me when it comes to Halloween. She was simply a "golfer" and wore a golf glove, carried her golf bag and clubs and wore a visor. I loved it! I once went to a party as a "guy who walked through a spider web" and put some of that fake spider web stuff on my shirt just before I walked in the door.
There are only few things I hate more than an adult Halloween party where one is required to "dress up". I've gotten to the age where I've earned a few things. I don't sing Happy Birthday at a party unless it is for my kids, I don't do the "Locomotion" at a wedding, I don't take my shoes off when people invite me over to their house, and I don't wear some zany costume in order to look like a fool at a party. I have no trouble looking like a fool at a party. (Which reminds me of a funny story. My wife, mom and dad, and a bunch of our friends traveled to Georgia one time for my friend Dave's wedding. There was a reception the night before the wedding and we really tied one on. The next day, we were all riding in a van to another event when we passed the scene of the previous night's debauchery. Just then, one of my friends' dad...Walt...who is one of those guys who would never say anything bad about anybody, loudly pointed out to all of the occupants in the van "Hey Mike, there's where you made a real ass of yourself last night!". I'm not sure I've ever seen my dad laugh so hard.) Anyway, it was a successful haul this Halloween and the kids really enjoyed it. I'm sure in about 10 years, Halloween will be outlawed and deemed to "evil" by some sect of crackpots who think everyone needs to be saved from themselves. It's Halloween, people...not a satanic ritual! Kids dress up, they get some candy and they call it a night...nothing more, nothing less
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I've noticed a growing trend popping up on vehicles around the place. It seems to be a new thing to honor a deceased loved-one by having a bumper sticker made and attached to your back windshield that says something like "In Loving Memory of Cletus J. Duke. March 24, 1963 to June 24, 2005". When I see these stickers I can't help to ponder them for a minute and think...there's nothing more noble than proclaiming the death of a friend or family member than by plastering a eulogy on the back window of your 1984 Chevy Citation, right beside the "Suckin' Gas and Haulin' Ass" sticker. This occurs mostly in Piqua or Sidney. Which reminds me of a time when I was following this slow moving truck down the road. The bumper sticker on the back said something like "Don't tailgate or I'll flip a booger on you". Sure...kinda funny I guess. But when we both got to a stop light, I looked over to see this guy who might have been born around the same time as the fall of Rome. He was like 90 something, hunched over his steering wheel and all I could think about was a) him flipping a booger on me and b) wondering if he even knew that bumper sticker was on his truck. Swear to god, I laughed about that for 2 days straight...in fact, I'm laughing now!
I've written before about how people now feel compelled to list all of the children on the back of their SUV by name and their activity or sport. People are really reaching now because it's no longer just soccer balls and "Amber" or "Dakota" (stripper names)...the other day I saw one with a girl's name and a bunch of musical notes. Does this qualify? And, is this signifying that this child is in the band...or just likes listening to music. I've decided that I'm going to get one made for my middle daughter Sophia. It will be her name and the outline of a television set on it. That girl loves her Disney Channel! My mom should have one with my name and the outline of a set of boobies...because, quite frankly, I like 'em!
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It's political season (or probably past it by the time I post this). Are you like me...if you hear one more political advertisement on tv or radio you're going to jam fondue forks into your eyeballs and dig out your eardrum with a carrot peeler just to avoid them? These things are totally annoying in every way. No matter which side of the fence you sit on, these ads make it sound like the other side is one of Satan's evil minions. I guess the days of explaining that you might be the best candidate...and why, are over. Instead it's about attacking the other guy and telling the public that your opponent has never done anything right...kinda like my wife does to me (just kidding honey...by the way, I love that blouse you have on...you look great in it) I've become slightly jaded in my opinions of many of the candidates this year. I'm starting to believe that it doesn't really matter who you elect, because they're gonna screw it up just like the 20 dudes before them did. I don't know.
The local issues are important to me though. For example, there is something on the ballot about voting for approval so Troy can build another development while continuing to eliminate farmland. It's particularly dear to me because it will be on a road that I have traveled a million times which once served primarily as the only route from my childhood residence to my then-girlfriend's/future wife's house. Hundreds of times I have driven by that land and seen it full of deer or the times when it was completely yellow from the blooms on whatever was growing there at the time. Soon, it will all be nearly identical houses, which will be built within 10 feet of the next similar looking house. It's just a shame, I guess. I suppose I am a little old-fashioned in a lot of my thoughts. I can imagine the disgust some old-timers might feel when they drive next to another Wal-Mart or strip mall that once used to be "cornfields...as far as the eye could see". Some view it as progress I suppose.
There's another issue on the ballot about banning smoking everywhere. Now listen...smoking is bad. If you smoke, it's not your wisest decision and it is one you should probably rethink. However, it bugs me to no end knowing that we have to legislate people's own personal decisions. Hey, if you own a restaurant and don't want people to smoke there...great! I'm behind you all the way because I don't particularly care for that either. On the same note, if I can't stand smoke while I'm eating, I won't go there. It's a choice both the owner of the establishment and I have to make. I don't need lobbyists and political activists deciding choices like that for me and I don't think they should. Even as a non-smoker, it worries me that there are groups of people out there that want to decide what is right and what is wrong for me and quite frankly, that sounds a little un-American to me. I saw on the news the other night this doctor speaking about the effects of being exposed to smoke for, like, one minute and all of the bad things going on during that minute. Then I look at this doctor and he weighs 350 lbs easy! Buddy, you should be speaking on the dangers of too much cholesterol. It's like a shop teacher teaching me about table saw safety and he has no fingers. If people are really worried about other people's safety, then I think we need a coalition to investigate propane grills. How can the government sit idly by when every grill sold has it's push-button ignitor quit working after a month...leading me to tossing lit matches from 15 feet away as a giant fireball reaches for the sky! Get involved people!
Finally (and then I will step off of my political soapbox), there's talk of increasing the minimum wage. I have a better idea on how to increase your pay if you make minimum wage...work harder, do a good job, strive for more! It's a strange concept, I know. Sure, it would be a lot easier to just throw money at those who are making the minimum, but my idea is to compensate them for their good accomplishments and that might actually make them to want to strive for even more! It's called "earning it" I didn't graduate college...but I don't make minimum wage either. I'd like to think I work hard for my money and every advancement I've gained was earned by me and not by some federal mandate. We all end up paying the extra costs then as the store owner ups his price on the bag of bread or the bottle of low-grade tequila to make up for the fact that he has to pay the guy mopping the floor a few bucks more to...well...mop the floor. OK, I'm done. These political ads have to stop...they're making me cranky.
(Editors note: everything I voted for or against went the other way...except for the subdivision development thing...that didn't pass...which is all I really cared about. Yippee!)
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I've probably mentioned this before but you should all know that I consider myself a master in the grocerial arts. I peruse the aisles of my local supermarket with cat-like quickness and deadly efficiency. I do well to fill the cupboards (or "covereds" as Anna calls them)
While on my journey to hunt and gather nourishment for my family, I've learned a few tips along the way. My steely gaze is fixed straight ahead as my mind digs into the catalogs of data stored within. Which store am I at? How are their aisles laid out? What ingredients are needed to complete a certain meal? They're all being randomly accessed in a nanosecond. But during these times I also make notes of what other shoppers are doing wrong. I will now lay out some tips and rules to make your experience more fulfilling and rewarding while keeping you out of my way.
Rule: While you are pondering if you should purchase sharp cheddar instead of mild cheddar, your cart doesn't need to be beside you, three feet away, thus eliminate any space for me to get my cart by you. I know this is a very important choice for you, but make your choice from the handle side of your cart and don't block my route. I have been known to run that little bar that is guarding the front wheels into an unsuspecting lady's achilles tendon because she was in my way.
Tip: Coupons are for suckasses. They are a scam. If someone has to mail me a piece of paper offering their product for less money than the store has it, then they are apparently peddling something I don't need. In all seriousness, coupons skew your understanding of what you really need and what you think you need to buy...merely because it's 25 cents off.
Rule: Never go down a checkout line when the attendant is definitely under 21 years of age if you are buying beer. You're only going to get bottlenecked as the under-age cashier has to call the manager from the other side of the building to scan a 12 pack across the barcode reader (Fun Fact: In June of 1974, the first U.P.C. scanner was installed at a Marsh's supermarket in Troy, Ohio. The first product to have a bar code included was a packet of Wrigley's Gum. This is dead-honest true and it's the same store I shop at primarily)
Tip: Let us just say that you pass a good looking lady and she happens to mumble to herself that she needs, for example, a Chef-Boyardee Pizza Mix. Being an expert, you'll realize that this Pizza Kit is kept on the bottom shelf in Aisle 4. Immediately sprint to aisle 4 where the Chef-Boyardee Pizza Mix is wait for her to bend over. Once bent over, make several comments to yourself like "Looord Have Mercy" or "Looks like two cats fighting each other in a burlap sack". It is never a good idea to walk by and smack her rear. This is why I inadvertently twitch sometimes.
Rule: If you are paying with a check, have the date, name of store, and your name signed before the last item gets scanned. This way you only have to fill in the dollar amount. Let's face it, checks are basically dead. If you're not using a credit/debit card, you might as well be trading wampum or using charcoal to write on papyrus.
Tip: Constantly survey the checkout line as you near completion of your shopping. It also helps, when it is extremely busy, to stand at the entrance of of a checkout lane looking helpless until you catch the eye of a young cashier and give her the sad, puppy dog look. They'll open up a lane just for you!
Rule: Never allow your kids to have the "car cart"...the cart shaped like a racecar. It's about 3 times larger than a regular cart and it is often to cumbersome to maneuver down any aisle without taking out a few stacks of Cheez-its or toppling the carefully stack pyramid of Campbell's soup. Throw the baby in the fold down seat, tell the other two kids to shut up, hang on and watch the master work.
Rule: If one of the top 5 most important items you need on your particular store visit is ice...you will always forget to get it before leaving. The only thing that is worse is that you remember you need it just after the cashier tells you your total. She'll roll her eyes and you'll feel like a big dickweed.

There you go. These tips should help you enjoy a more fruitful and painless shopping experience next time. And remember to frequent your smaller groceries as they struggle to survive next to the Wal-Marts of the world.
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I tend to watch a lot of sporting events and I notice another trend with people at the stadium. They are all starting to wave towels. Sure, the Steelers did it with the Terrible Towel and that was original and unique at the time (although still "Terribly" stupid)...but now everybody is doing it. Let me tell you this, I can think of nothing more annoying than some jackass sitting in the seat in front of me, after I just paid $50 plus for the seat I'm in, whipping a towel around after every 4 yard gain and whapping me in the face. The free towel he got on Kahn's Hotdogs Towel day will next be used as a tourniquet to stop the bleeding after I inflict a deadly wound on him.
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My latest project has been building a workshop area inside my barn. While the barn is falling down and the roof is like a colander, I still need a water-tight place that can hold in some heat this winter as I embark on my maiden voyage in the ways of tractor restoration. (I purchased a very run-down 1949 Ford 8N tractor). I've enlisted the help of my dad, brother in law, and buddy Gill. Each of them have tons of craftsman-like skills while I have trouble driving a nail in straight.
But I've learned two valuable lessons in this adventure. 1) If you have plenty of beer (no, a case is not enough) you'll have plenty of help. 2) Midway through the project your helpers will be leaning more to this new workshop becoming a bar as they bounce suggestions off you like "This would be a good place for some barstools and some bottles of liquor" or "We could put a poker table right here". It is then my duty to cut a few boards incorrectly or break something so they can get re-focused on the task of degrading my total lack of woodworking ability. In shop class, I had to make a bread box. Square box, nothing fancy. At the end, it looked more like a parallelogram than a box. (this all goes back to an earlier entry about the chicken coop rebuild project and my declaration that I posess no true skills. None, people!).
Anyway, the project is coming along nicely thanks to those guys and their hard work...and thanks to their wives too for letting me steal them away from their own home repairs to help out their inept son/brother in law/friend.
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Well, that's all I've got for now. Hope you enjoy this stuff. Please feel free to post your questions/comments, ideas for other topics in which I can expound on and show my total lack of knowledge about.