Future Mailman

The upcoming generation of young people, from time to time, do something extraordinary in my eyes, and occasionally exceed my expectations of them. I will admit, I'm somewhat critical of the 'gaming' generation, just as my elders were critical of my generation. When we see them take advantage of the latest innovations to make life easier, it makes them suspect, and we feel they are lazy, or looking for the simpler solution, rather than getting results through hard work. That might be true, or they might be smarter. Regardless, one such young man who has amazed me is our paper boy. He's in his early teens, and though I don't know him personally, he seems like your 'run of the mill' 15 year old boy. Recently, with the amount of snow dumped on us, it has crippled the city. Snow plows are sitting until the worst is passed, banks are closed, other public operation are on hold, linemen for the utilities can't get to the locations to fix the problems, everything has just froze to a standstill. The exception - our paper boy. I fully did not expect to receive our newspaper yesterday due to the dangerous conditions, but to my surprise, as I'm out trying to tunnel a path through the winter wonderland, there sits my newspaper! After being slightly in awe, I analyzed this kid in my mind. He seems to have that 'attack the task at hand' mentality. Under normal conditions, I'm usually just pulling out of stage 2 REM sleep, as I hear noise coming from my front porch, which usually stirs the dog to action. When I say, "action", I mean he lifts his head from his pillow to let out a couple of mandatory barks, because that's what he's supposed to do. Then he falls back asleep for a couple more hours. Enough about the faux canine. The paperboy surpasses the mailman, when it comes to reliability. It doesn't hurt matters that he's built kind of like a snow plow. I'm sure this young man would make a fine employee for whatever he decides to do with his life. I would only hope he would get a job with the US mail, and become our future mailman.

Symmetry

Symmetry is a very important feature of many man made things as well as items found in nature. Not only is it for physics to operate precisely, it is also aesthetically pleasing. In nature, there are quite a few things that are not symmetrical, but man, in order to complete a project, needs symmetry to insure, whatever said project, will have a measure of success. Humans are symmetrical, or are they? Two arms, two legs, two ears, one nose centered in your face. It seems that way. A closer look at myself, and I begin to wonder. When I wear a stocking cap, I can see the left side of my head is flatter than the right side. My right shoulder is quite a bit lower than my left. When I'm being fitted for a suit jacket, the tailor adds a shoulder pad to the right side, lengthens the right sleeve, and then has to adjust the buttons on the front of the coat. When looking down at my feet, my left foot points straight ahead, the right foot points to the right. The big toe on my left foot is wider than the big toe on the right. I have 3 out of 4 wisdom teeth. Top and bottom on the right side of my mouth, just the top on the left side. My right arm is obviously thicker than my left, since I'm right handed. And to finish off my blatant appearance, when I smile, the right cheek has a dimple, the left has nothing. It's a miracle I can even function. Apparently I have enough oddities happening on both sides of my body to balance myself out. There is a Japanese term that best describes the state I find myself. That term is 'wabi sabi'. It basically means to find the beauty in imperfection and chaos. I've definitely nailed down the imperfection and chaos, the beauty part of it might be somewhat of a stretch.

Fertilization

Farmers are always looking for ways to boost their yield. One method they use utilizes manure from their animals. Now these animals have to be herbivores in order for this natural fertilizer to work. If you used manure from a carnivore or omnivore, it would actually acidify the soil and would create an imbalance in the soil. In short, nothing will grow. Many of us are backyard farmers. We don't have acres to cultivate, only a small plot in the backyard to grow some seasonal vegetables, and some herbs. Which also means, there's a very good chance we don't have cattle either. So our natural fertilizer supply is not readily available. Then a thought popped into my head. Do you know what a 'vegan' is? It's a person who does not eat or use animal products - an herbivore. Do you see where I'm going with this? I was wondering if a vegan could just fertilize his own garden? Yeah, there's the indecent exposure issue to handle, but that can be easily remedied. Once again, I may be on the cutting edge of something revolutionary:) An additional thought. When we die, our body is decomposed by maggots - nature's garbage men. When a vegan dies, do they just turn into a mushroom?

Mr. Suh

Yes, I'm much older, but this young man has earned my respect. Ndamukong Suh has made such an impact on the Nebraska football program, it's going to be exciting to watch over the next few years. I can't wait to see him play on Sundays, and see how teams adjust to this extraordinary athlete. He may alter the game at the next level, who knows? All the hardware he's picked up this year was well deserved. You couldn't ask for a more respectful young man to be so deserving. I've been following some online speculations, and everyone is unanimously picking him to go #1 or #2 in the NFL draft. It appears he will likely go to the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, or the Cleveland Browns. If he's still up for grabs after the second pick, then the Detroit Lions or the St. Louis Rams. Currently, I'm not much of a fan of any of those mentioned, but will likely be converted, depending on where Mr. Suh takes up residence. The Green Bay Packers are my favorite NFL team, but I prefer to follow players more than teams. I just like to see an all around good athlete succeed for whatever franchise he represents. Thanks to Mr. Suh, he's piqued my interest in pro football - next year. Until that time, lets display to Arizona, the 'House of Spears' coming to inflict negative yardage, along with turnovers and injuries. San Diego is such an ideal place for a good old fashioned Nebraska blackshirt pounding! My condolences to the road kill Wildcat when the SUH-nami hits!

The Work Force

At the age of fourteen I entered the workforce. I started mowing a few lawns for cash. I technically entered the workforce at the age of sixteen. A friend recommended me for a job at Village Inn as a busboy. I still haven't forgave him. I also worked for a lawn service for a season and a lawn mower repair shop, before finally settling into my current trade, at the age of eighteen. After a three year apprenticeship, I've tried to hone my skills to be the best I can possibly be at my occupation. I'm not really in competition with anyone per se, even though we do bid against one another for the same jobs. I try to not be judgmental, and pick apart another's work. But over the years, after working for several different floor covering stores, and currently for myself, I've noticed there are different types of tradesmen, who are considered peers, that appear to be at a different level than myself. It may be their level of ambition, skill, care, love of the trade, money, whatever the motive. I've been taught to do work for others as you would want it in your own home. So I try to do a top notch job every time, and if there is a revolutionary way I've figured to accomplish something, I make it known to the tile world. We are constantly bombarded with 'new and improved' products. Those I'm skeptical until they've been on the market for a time, to prove their worth, then I'll test them out. I usually let the more adventurous try it first. It appears to me, the ones who are first to hop on a bandwagon, are the same ones who are looking to turn a quick buck. Which brings me to my breakdown of the workforce. First, there are those who truly enjoy what they do, and go the extra mile to not only do it right, but pay attention to minute details, that, in the end, make the job brilliant. Then there's the installers who are in it solely for the money. There is money to be made in volume, so they only pursue those jobs where they can cover large areas with minimal effort and employees. All they really see is dollar signs. Third, there is the tradesman (a.k.a. the company man), who may be a good installer in his own respect, but lacks the drive to excellence. He shows up for work every day, takes a break at ten, regardless of where he's at, or how much he's accomplished, puts in his eight and punches out. He's really not moved by compliments or criticisms, only the clock. This brings us to our final observation. The person who neither cares about the trade, or his workmanship, or the company he happens to be employed at, only a paycheck. Unfortunately there happens be to more folks like that than you would care see. I personally try to establish a standard within my company, and, unknowingly have set a standard in the area. It's reassuring when architects call you to get product and procedure information to specify on their blueprints. It's also nice when the tile suppliers run into a problem, they call me to get a suggestion or solution. I'm not trying to flaunt my arrogance, rather express my appreciation for those who are concerned with doing things right, and maintaining a standard of integrity within the trade.

Famous? Really?

My wife and I have had this discussion a few times. How do people become famous when they've done absolutely nothing to merit such accolades? This topic first came up when one of the Kardashian girls was in the news for no other reason than being famous. Famous for what, I'm not sure. Paris Hilton is another person of superstar status, and the only accomplishment she's had are amateur sex tapes. Other people do that and they're arrested. What makes these people so desirable to the public, that launches them to stardom, outside of a name they've inherited? They have no talent, they've done nothing of special merit, they haven't participated in any type of philanthropic work, they haven't even rescued a cat from a tree. I just don't see the enthrallment. People like this would be treated like a middle class citizen in my presence. There would be no special treatment, and I would demand respect from such individuals. I wouldn't be harsh, but definitely firm. And whining and crying just turn me into a cold piece of granite. There would be absolutely no sympathy on my behalf if complaining were part of the equation. I understand certain people need their ego stroked from time to time, and some actively pursue rock star status, but until you've proven yourself a genuine human being with something tangible to offer mankind, please step to the back of the line, and wait your turn.

Annoyance?

My wife, oldest daughter, and myself, make it a point to pick up on things people say incorrectly, and misspellings wherever they may be found. I'm sure we've all been corrected at one time or another on our use of grammar or spelling. In our house, we try to correct the wrongdoing, and make it a point to not err in the future, AND make jest at those who do. One of my favorites (and this is not directed at one single person, but several abusers), is the word 'unthaw'. "I think I'll take the turkey out of the freezer to unthaw it". The word 'thaw', means to become liquid, or soft as a result of warming. By adding the prefix 'un', by definition, one is reversing the process of thawing by freezing. So what you're basically saying is, "I'm going to take the turkey out of the freezer and freeze it". Doesn't make much sense, but it is fun to laugh afterwards.

Boys vs. Girls

Growing up in my neighborhood, there was always plenty of kids to hang out with. There was an endless supply of mischief to get into. In a three block radius of my house, there was enough boys to put together two baseball teams, and we didn't even have to invite the kids who were no good. Of course they came along, we weren't heartless, and 'yes', we even let them play. But girls were another story. As one of the older kids on the block, I had to set the precedent, and make sure girls were not invited to mess up our game. Chances are, they didn't even know how to play the game, and we didn't have time to stand around and teach them. Had to be home before the street lights came on, you know. Everyone knows they throw like a girl and hit like a girl. Well duh, they're girls. Every once in awhile, a girl, who also happened to be a good athlete, would catch our attention. When I was very young (kindergarten & first grade), I lived in the Benson area. There were two buddies I spent most of the daylight hours playing with. Trevor, who happened to be the fastest kid in our class, and Bill, who happened to live across the street. There was one house I had to pass on the way to Trevor's, and a girl named Christine lived there. She was one of the exceptions. She happened to be the third fastest kid in class, and she had a tree in her front yard we would occasionally climb. So she was allowed to join the 'He-man Woman Haters Club' for about 98% of our activities. We didn't invite her to write her name in the dirt with urine. But she could kick, throw, and run. All good qualities a young boy is looking for in a girl. But then I reached an age where girls were no longer shunned for being a girl. All of a sudden, you wanted girls to throws like girls. How else were we males to impress the opposite sex, if the girls were as good as we were? There came a day, when I left the neighborhood gang of 'boys only', and wanted to hang out with girls too. They were prettier, and didn't smell nearly as bad as the boys in the neighborhood. Dynamics changed, and I relenquished my title to the younger boys on the block. I guess it's all part of growing up. To this day, I still witness the competition between boys and girls. Having daughters, I see them challenging themselves, and boys, to do whatever boys are allowed to do, but would like to keep it among boys. It's rather amusing to see this develop, and the kids don't even realize that someday the girls won't care about the competition, and the boys will be allowed to emerge as boys, and try to impress the girls. You can't really observe this ritual, until you've gone through it yourself, and then know what you're looking for.

Inspirational

We visited the Hot Shops over the weekend, to check out the local artists, and support their craft. It's amazing to see the different art forms and different styles. You can really see what inspires people to create by viewing their artwork. Some are moved by nature, the seasons, man's creation, religion, and other people they find interesting. Then they interpret what they see in their mind and transfer that vision to another medium, whether it be paper, wood, bronze, glass, fabric, etc., etc. Obviously famous people inspire artists to create, but interesting people also inspire, i.e. Mona Lisa. I am neither famous, infamous, or apparently that interesting. The only artist inspired to draw me, happens to be a cartoonist. What does that tell you? He's portrayed me as a carrot, the moon, and Charlie Brown. I'm so flattered. If he's famous someday, maybe those cartoons will go for lots of money! Maybe even a hundred dollars!

I'm Bored

I'm not really bored. I just happen to be quoting my children more often than I like to hear. What happened to imagination and entertaining yourself? Why do children need to be entertained every waking minute of the day? I can see the effect it has on their schoolwork due to our being lenient on entertaining our children. Growing up in northwest Omaha, being the child of blue collar parents with no money management skills, the entertainment provided by my parents took the form of chores. It kept me occupied and out of their hair, and taught me to not whine about having nothing to do. I remember one occasion where my stepfather salvaged lumber from an old garage that he planned to use to build a shed. I was taught the joy of pulling nails at about the age of seven. What seemed to be an eternity, was actually a weekend. I was in a safe environment, supervised by a parent, and occupied my otherwise wasted time, learning how a hammer works. At the time, the chore is grievous. Looking back, the experience was invaluable. My hard work did not go without reward though. After the shed was built, my stepfather made me a pair of stilts from some of the remaining wood. I got several years worth of enjoyment from those stilts. To this day, hard work is part of my make up. As an adult, I can't remember a time where I was bored. Life continually requires my full attention and effort. There is just no time to be bored. If there was an opportunity, I would probably take it. I feel the need to be doing something for fear I waste more time than usual, and feel guilty afterward. I guess that's why I have stuck with a trade for over 25 years now. I would go absolutely insane sitting at a desk, day after day, staring at the same scenery. Chances are, I would be bored.

First Snow

I always appreciate the first snow of the year. Yesterday didn't really count. That was just a dusting - a teaser, so to speak. I like a significant amount, the kind of snowfall that requires snow removal. It comes to earth so gracefully and forms a beautiful blanket. Maybe you've noticed, after a good dose of snow, it acts like a sound deadening device. I notice this because we live within a mile of the interstate, and can hear a constant drone of traffic in the spring and fall when there are no leaves on the trees yet. But when it snows, the noise goes away. It may be from less traffic also. Either way, I welcome it. Some memorable winters growing up were the blizzard of 1975. I believe we received 18" of snow that year. The drifts were amazing! Our garage happened to be situated close to our lot line and our neighbor had a chain link fence between the two yards. There happened to be a drift from the roof of our garage sloping into our neighbor's yard. After a few days of frigid temps and the sun baking? a hard crust on the snow, I was ready for some real adventure. I was 10 at the time, so I didn't weigh a whole lot. I started in the neighbor's yard and carefully walked up the snowdrift, stepping as light as I could, so as to not break thru the crust of the drift. My goal - the roof of the garage! It had never been done before, and naysayers said it could not be done. I made it about halfway when the snow gave out from under my feet, and I shot down into the drift. I have a vivid memory of looking up out of the fissure, and the rim of the snow was about 6 to 12 inches above my head. There was no panic, I thought this was the coolest thing ever. So I had to dig my way out. Now the perfect drift was no longer perfect. I tried a couple of more times further down the drift, but with no success. I would break thru the snow and sink to my thighs. So the naysayers were right. Another year (happened to be my junior year in high school), we had 30 days of below zero temps, for the high! A couple of friends happened to enjoy ice fishing, so I thought this would be another incredible adventure. The ice was so thick, everyone drove their car out to their destination. I remember sitting in the front seat of my buddie's Chevelle, watching our tip ups from the warmth of the car. Prior to that though, we had to drill holes for our tip ups. We had only a spoon auger, powered by Kevin. After three holes, and an hour later, Kevin had had enough. The shallowest spot was 36", the deepest 42"! That sucked! Sorry, no nicer way to put it. Another year, after being married, but before children, I went inner tubing with friends at Suicide Hill in Spring Lake Park in South Omaha. It was a blast! I came home with the biggest black eye you've ever seen! Remember how Rocky Balboa looked after getting pounded by Apollo Creed? Ditto. My eye hit the back of another person's head while launching down the hill, over a killer jump. Those are just a few of the memorable years of playing in the snow. I have a few more, but I'll save them for another entry. Winter doesn't seem quite so long if you get out there and play in the snow:)

Naturally Funny

Everyone enjoys a good laugh once in awhile, or least they should. And there's nothing funnier than something that occurs at the spur of the moment. Many people forget that it doesn't have to be vulgar to be funny. For instance, the first time a toddler eats a bowl of spaghetti. We've all witnessed that, and more spaghetti makes it into the hair, the lap, the floor, than into the mouth, not to mention the beautiful saucy red complexion the child is donning. Get the picture? Some other favorites that deserve honorable mention are, giving the dog a spoonful of peanut butter, when an old person lets out an audible stinker in the grocery store, when someone slips and falls (provided they're not hurt) with some form of liquid in their hands. These are gems that should put a smile on our face. Spontaneous combustion is not planned or forced, neither should spontaneous laughter. What fun is it if you know it's coming? It all amounts to being in the right place at the right time. It also helps if your friends or family members are a bit accident prone. So get out there and live life, and when someone steps in dog doo, or little kids run into one another and topple like bowling pins, recognize this as 'funny', and don't forget to laugh.

Bah Humbug!

It started about a month ago. I started to hear the constant whining, badgering, and unrealistic expectations from the public. This happens every year, and every year it sets the tone for the remaining months of the year. It starts with a phone call from a potential customer. They like to tell me their grandiose plans for their house. They start from the beginning and paint a picture for me over the phone. The type of wood on their cabinets, the color it will be stained, the color of their crown molding (this is usually spoken with great adoration in their voice, and I'm trying to keep from putting my finger down my throat and not having to explain the sound of my gag reflex), the paint color, the name of their granite (once again, urp), and finally to their tile, which is where I come in. This is soon followed by dates and times when each trade is expected to be there and perform their most precious task so that this family can have the project done two days before Thanksgiving, to accommodate the guests coming in from out of town. First mistake, wait until the last minute to start a remodel project. Second mistake, micromanage every subcontractor's schedule, assuming they're just sitting around, waiting for your phone call to do your $400 job for $350. This is where the 'fun' begins. You can just hear the figurative glass drop and shatter when you tell them you can't get to their project for at least six weeks. Immediately shift from managerial attitude to beggar/crybaby. "But I have company coming, and my kitchen won't be finished", or "I have seven people staying, and only one working bath". Can you sense the desperation in their voice? "Poor planning on your part does NOT constitute an emergency on my part". That's quoted from someone else and used by myself more often than I would like. Feel free to utter those words, if the situation fits. Then there's the plea for someone else's phone number. I'm happy to oblige, for why should I be the only one to field these phone calls? My peers should have to go through this also. Besides, one of them may just be sitting around, waiting for this opportunity. So far, I've made it halfway thru another season without going postal. Tomorrow starts the second wave of disappointment for those who live on Fantasy Island. Christmas is the new deadline. Curse that Mr. Roarke for filling their heads with unrealistic promises!

Right or Left?

Supposedly people are either right or left brained. If you use your right hand for everything, you're left brained. Lefties use their right side. Apparently, this holds true in the way we think and comprehend things also. But you don't necessarily have to be right handed to be left brained. Confused yet? Wait, it only gets worse. I guess there are tell tale signs as to which lobe you happen to favor. I guess autistic people happen to be right brained, but you don't have to be autistic to be right brained. My wife thinks she's autistic minus the savant. If you look at her handwriting, especially her signature, you would surmise she is three years old. On the other side of the coin, she is incredibly well read and has a grasp of vocabulary that warrants envy from crossword puzzlers around the globe. Now I'm a different story. I'm a bit confused. I'm predominantly left brained with some right brain tendencies. I've been told, when I was a little guy, I would use my left hand. My mother and grandmother 'corrected' that at an early age, and made me use my right hand. Today I am right handed with a few quirks. I kick a football left footed, and quite impressively I might add. When fishing, if using a bait cast reel, I cast right handed, if using an open face reel, left handed. I throw right handed only, but while at bat, I can switch hit. I'm more accurate right, but just as powerful left. When it comes to comprehending things, I don't know. I wonder if a person's political views have to do with which hemisphere they use? There are left wingers and right wingers. Sometimes, it appears that they don't use either side of their brain, when you hear some of their political ideals. I wonder if you can retrain your brain after so many years of doing things predominantly with one hand? Say, every ten years, start to write my name and throw a ball left handed. Sure, I'm going to look like a girl for awhile, but it can only get better, right? On second thought, life's difficult enough. Why would I choose to be autistic? That would be retarded.

As It Should Be

It appears the Big 12 North Division is getting back to the old order of things. The Huskers finally sealed the deal on the North. I think we have a long ways to go before we're feared in the South, or at least taken seriously. But the rest of the North has had their day of play. Dad's home now, it's time to stop behaving badly, and start to take your punishment. In the Dark Ages (also known as the Callahan years), the rest of the North missed the opportunity to step into the role and totally dominate for years to come. Instead, they strove for mediocrity, and now they're going to have to deal with the upcoming wrath of Mr. Pelini and his mob bosses. Now that Nebraska has surfaced to the top, the turmoil in football world can start to settle down and return to the normalcy of old. I know it's frustrating for the remainder of the North, and it's not going to get easier in the years to come, but at least they know their place in the world. We just have a few spider webs left to clean out of the attic, and things should be tidied up nice for next season. I realize we were spoiled brats during the latter years of the Osborne domination, and we've learned from this, but we've now descended into the cellar with the previous blundering staff, left them there, and have finally emerged into the daylight. It's going to be sunny. I recommend SPF30 and some decent sunglasses.

Rich Man

There's an old song from the Bare Naked Ladies, titled 'If I Had A Million Dollars'. What would I do with a cool mill? Throughout the song they mention some nonsensical things they would spend their money on, but in the end he would buy the girl's love that happens to be listening to the song. Well, I'm a pretty simple minded guy, so I'm pretty sure I would spend my money wisely, not frivolously. First on the agenda, pay off everything, including my house! Set up a Roth IRA, and buy a brand new set of tires for my truck. Consult a money manager to figure out how to correctly invest a small portion of it. Donate some. And after all that is set up, go back to work. You may think, 'Go back to work'? 'Are you nuts'? There is one 'small' factor we haven't discussed yet. Taxes. After paying taxes first, then proceeding with my plan, it's all spoken for. A million dollars sounds like a lot of money when you're a kid, but to an adult, it may serve a short time as a safety net, but it's really not that much anymore. I don't even know why I'm discussing this subject. I do not have a rich benefactor threatening to shove money in my pockets. It's really a nonissue. Back to the song though. I know it's cruel, but I WOULD buy my wife a real green dress:)

Sasquatch Sighting

Yesterday I thought I saw a Sasquatch in my house, then realized it was me walking in front of a mirror with my shirt off. It seems every year that goes by, I add another layer of insulation to my body. I know this is going to gross you all out, but roll with it. You're probably thinking right now, ' his poor wife'. Don't feel sorry for her yet. If I grew a ponytail, it would appear I was wearing a coonskin cap with a mink shawl, a squirrel belt, and a bearskin bib. I remember passing through the puberty years a little ahead of my fellow pubescent peers. I had sole bragging rights for a whole year because I had a mustache in the fifth grade. Soon after, I started my luscious garden of chest hair and wore it outside my shirt with great Italian pride. So by the time I finished my high school years, I was ready to shut down the hair factory. I was able to grow a beard within a week, which served my underage, illegal motives well. Once I became of age, I no longer needed the ever expanding help of hair follicles. But somewhere along the line, the production has picked up, and I can't find the button to shut it off. I've had to wage a battle with myself to keep from becoming an overgrown, hirsute, walking, patch of bramble. I fear birds and small animals will try to take up residence somewhere on my body. The one and only benefit I have been able to take advantage of is, I can usually withstand the cold much better than previous years. My wife derives benefits also. In bed, I cannot sleep with a shirt on. I've been this way since I was a kid. As an adult, I can hardly stand to have the covers over my shoulders. I feel as if I'm wearing a turtleneck to bed. I happen to be a good source of heat with the extra insulation (a little bit of whale blubber also), warming the bed in just a few short minutes after climbing in. She usually comes to bed later than myself, and her matrimonial bed warmer is working just fine. She crawls into bed with her 15 degrees below zero feet, popsicle fingers, and cold, wet, puppy dog nose, and is comfortable soon after. I'm still not dismissing the fact Sasquatch may be roaming around my house, but if you catch sight of, what appears to be him, check first to see if he's wearing glasses before you shoot. That would be me.

Bread

Don't you just love the smell of bread baking? Just the mention of it, and the wrinkle formed in your brain many many years ago, immediately call your senses to attention. It is quite possibly one of the best, and most tantalizing smells in the world! I don't know too many people who don't like bread. I do know some who don't like the crust on their bread, and some of those are grown adults. (Oh please). The other day, I accompanied my children to the Rotella's Bakery, for a school field trip. I'm pretty sure me and the soccer moms enjoyed it more than the children. Did you know, Rotella's uses 3 million pounds of flour every week? The bakery runs 24/7, ships to all 50 states, Canada, and Iraq. They supply all the Arby's, 30% of Sonic's, 35% of all Walmarts delis, and about 1000 different food chains in part or whole. Nothing goes to waste either. If there's a bad loaf, or some dough falls on the floor, they pick it up immediately, and put it into yellow waste cans. These cans are kept separate, and a local pig farmer visits once a week to haul it away. They save on disposal costs, and the farmer supplements his feed for the pigs. A win/win situation. They employ 400 people and this bakery is the only one in the world! They will also do special requests. Apparently, Garth Brooks recently opened a new restaurant and Rotella's supplies them with their bakery items, and pizza dough. The field trip concluded with a question and answer session, and then they gave everyone in attendance a bag with a loaf of bread and breadsticks. I love Rotella's! So please help keep this, one of a kind company going. They've been around since 1921 and are into their fifth generation of family ownership. Kudos to Rotella's Bakery!

As Big As Your Head

Over the weekend, my family and I went to brunch on Sunday. My youngest daughter LOVES the cinnamon rolls that are brought to each table. That is the highlight of her whole seven year existence up to this point. If it involves sugar, it must be good. If it happens to be a shade of green, yellow, or orange, and not made of sugar, it must be repulsive! So her excitement upon seeing the beautiful, doughy, gooey, sticky sweet pastries, making their way to our table, prompted her to proclaim her extreme satisfaction, and thrilled that the size of each roll was 'as big as your head'! Well, that's a bit of an exaggeration. But if it were the size of your head, is it really a good idea to eat that much? Is it possible to eat that much? If I owned a restaurant though, that would be a great description on the menu of that item. Cinnamon Roll - Bring a buddy, this thing is the size of your head!

Graffiti

Graffiti seems to be everywhere these days. Occasionally you'll see it on a bridge, and think, "They must have hung off the bridge with one hand while spraying with the other". I'm not a big fan of graffiti and don't quite understand the reason behind it. But, a true graffiti artist does some incredible stuff. It happens to be the anniversary of the Berlin Wall coming down, and when you look at the graffiti on that wall, it was actually art and told a story. I'm OK with that type of graffiti. I believe it's alright to dress up an eyesore or just a plain, stark, vast sheet of concrete. Obviously there's no natural beauty, so why not try to make it a piece of art? If I had a building that, from time to time, was 'tagged' by idiots with spray cans, I would probably hire a graffiti artist to not only cover the stupidity, but to help beautify the side of my building. I figure a reputable graffiti artist in the community may earn more respect than I would, so the paint imps wouldn't attack his work. Some of the most impressive graffiti I've seen is on boxcars. I'm sure the railroads aren't too thrilled, but I've seen some pretty amazing stuff. Of course, the graffiti only goes so high, due to the height of the boxcar. I guess graffiti artists aren't equipped with ladders and scaffold. One neighborhood landmark that receives quite a bit of attention from the amateur taggers is the grain elevators off of the interstate. The bottom ten feet are constantly being repainted black. In my opinion, black happens to be a perfect backdrop for future tagging. I think a chartreuse or hot pink should be considered. If it still gets hit, use your imagination and morph the tag into a piece of art. Obviously taggers do not have an eye or an appreciation for art, so maybe they'll move on or find a different line of criminal activity.

Follow the Leader

In life, there are leaders and followers. Then there's people like myself, who are wanderers. I've noticed that over time, there happens to be four people following my blog. There may be more reading occasionally, I don't know for sure, but four individuals have opted to follow the wanderer. Thank you, I'm flattered? Now a 'leader' has a set destination in mind, and is concerned about getting everybody to that destination under his/her supervision. A 'follower' may not have the leadership skills, so opts to come under the care of a 'leader', and follow the 'leader's' rules. Then there's the 'wanderer'. A 'wanderer' is neither a 'leader', nor a 'follower'. A 'wanderer' may initially appear as one of those, but it is soon apparent that he/she has no real goal or objective in mind, and is more curious than serious. Of course, a 'wanderer' may accidentally stumble into danger, but may also stumble into riches. Most just happen to wander through existence. So if you happen to be following me, keep in mind, this blog has no real destination and may, from time to time, make you think, "What in the world is going through that idiot's head"! That's just it, things go through, sometimes I stop them long enough to blog, and then send them back out into space. So in conclusion, I have no goal, destination, or conquest. I'm probably lost and walking in a circle. It might not be a perfect circle since I'm a little ambidextrous. But if you're interested in an adventure, and have no idea what's in store, this is the place for you. Thanks for reading. Ciao.

Invention Nation

There used to be a series on TV where these three guys traveled the countryside and sought out individuals who have invented things to make life easier, easier on the environment, and just all around brilliant design. Every once in awhile, a completely outrageous idea will pop into the lump on my shoulders, for no apparent reason. I thought it would be fun to make parody inventions. There's the inflatable dart board, guaranteed for one throw of the dart. You know the hotdog launchers at sporting events? How about a nachos and cheese launcher? Then there's probably my most difficult, hi tech device. Have you ever watched a professional cake decorator? They're basically artists, and a small amount of them are the creme de la creme, the extremely talented. Then there's folks, like myself, who would never be able to decorate a cake and have it turn out remotely close to looking like a cake. But, these days, everything seems to be run by some truly amazing computer programs. I thought that I could get some computer software made up, along with a special type of printer, that could decorate the cakes and make them perfect. I'm pretty sure laser or ink jet would work fine:) Ink is edible isn't it? There have been thousands of people who have invented things that have ultimately flopped. There have actually been people who spent money on such nonsense. I'm positive I could get a patent, and I'm pretty sure nobody's going to steal my ideas.

Just North of the Border

Yes, just north of the border is a little region known as South Omaha. The Latin American influence is firmly established there, and I welcome it. There are some hidden gems in South O, if you're brave enough to stumble through a little bit of a language barrier, it's definitely worth the journey. My wife came home with a bag full of homemade tamales yesterday. God bless her! There is a little place on 20th & about 'U' Street, called 'Sam's Mexican Deli'. The food is homemade, and the prices are about half of what they should be. Another favorite is the 'International Bakery' on 24th almost to 'Q' Street. Pastries you don't normally find at other bakeries, and once again, half of what they should be. It's not all about food though. Another little field trip I enjoy is the pottery place on 24th & 'M' Street. I don't know the name of it, but if you're on 24th, just south of 'L', start looking to the east to see the pottery displayed out front on the sidewalk. It's one of the coolest places to visit along 24th, and don't forget to go down to the basement. The quirky thing about the place, if you decide to purchase something, you have go across the street to pay for it. The rule of thumb is: If the locals are there, it's reputable. The language really isn't a problem either. You're there to spend money, they will do whatever it takes to make you happy. Check it out.

Just Like Riding a Bike

Last night I decided to do something I haven't done since I was in junior high. My wife found, of all places, 'the internet', a baseball scorecard and a refresher course to scoring a baseball game. I quickly glimpsed over the information and it all came back instantly. So, while watching the the Yanks drop one to the Phillies, I charted the game, just as I had done 30 years ago. It's a good way to watch a baseball game if you suffer from A.D.D. Afterwards, it got me thinking, "How much information is locked away in my head that I haven't accessed in a long time"? I would probably be amazed, thrilled, and embarrassed all at the same time, if this information were flashed before me on a screen, or I poke my finger in my eye and a continual feed of paper prints out of my mouth all the data I've forgotten over the years. I wonder how much of it would now be useful, and how much I could delete from memory that happens to be taking up the limited space in my noggin? Speaking of A.D.D., the homemade pop tarts the other night were delicious. I used strawberry jam in some, and Nutella in the rest. The only flaw was the homemade aspect, and not the artificial factory cardboard taste we've grown up with. Would I make these again? A resounding 'YES'! If any of you out there aren't aware of what Nutella is, you had better make a special quest to the grocery store to discover what the 'big deal' is all about. If it weren't for H1N1, it would have been ideal for trick or treaters. Give each kid a lick off of the spoon and send them on their way! You DEFINITELY would have been the talk of the neighborhood.

Gentlemen vs. Dirtbags

I've been watching the World Series, and thought I would take a little break to blog about an observation. The New York Yankees, as a whole, are a very presentable bunch of guys. The Philadelphia Phillies, on the other hand, appear to be sleeping under bridges and on park benches. I know for a fact, Steinbrenner requires a certain amount of pride assumed by his players. Thus the clean shaven faces, and decent haircuts. After all, he pays them a lot of money to play a game, they should be more than willing to abide by a dress code. The Phillies... I don't know what to say. Facial hair is alright, but you should still wash it and trim it. I shouldn't be so harsh, fleas need a place to live too.

Pop Tarts

OK, I've found a recipe that looks so simple even I can pull it off. I think I'm going to give homemade pop tarts a shot. I'll let you know how they turn out, but it's hard to type with my mouth full:)

Rant and Rave

You know, a blog is a good platform to air one's opinions and feelings to the rest of the world (in my case, 4 other people), just in case not everyone is aware of your stand on an issue, or there's a social injustice that needs to become public. I don't have any one particular topic in mind, but I find myself taking issue with several different topics in everyday conversation. Today was no different. I got on the subject of human and child cruelty forced upon individuals within the nation of China. There happens to be a job I'm working on, where all the tile selected is from China. The foreman disagreed with me and pointed to the label that said, ' Made in Italy'. I pointed out another label written in Chinese. Of course, neither one of us can read Chinese, but it's widely known among tile installers, this particular tile is made in China, probably by children no older than 14. The Chinese company makes the tile in China, maintains a factory in Italy, where the tile is shipped and packaged with the 'Made in Italy' label, then shipped to the 'blind to the fact' consumer in the US. They bought the company so they could use the Italian company name and label. Everyone knows the Italians and Spaniards are leading the industry with quality tiles and product, so acquiring the name alone is a very savvy, yet sly marketing move on the part of the Chinese company. Another issue is, the country of China is not under the same strict EPA laws enforced in the US and other countries somewhat conscious of the environment. Since human underage labor is cheap or forced, laborers are an endless commodity, thus the cheaper price for goods sold. Obviously we can't monitor every single item we consume, but if we knowingly purchase things produced under such conditions....? Sadly, if we were to make a difference in the world, some other opportunist would pick up the ball, and exploit another group of people in another part of the world. I just wish I could get paid by somebody to rant and rave endlessly on various subjects that stroke my fur the wrong direction! Exploit the exploiter, so to speak.

Should I or Shouldn't I?

This weekend the Nebraska Cornchokers and the Baylor Care Bears go head to head. Neither team seems to be able to get the lights on the scoreboard to work in their column. Can't quite figure that electrical problem out. Previously, I lamented about getting emotionally involved with my beleaguered Cornhuskers. It seems when I get fired up about an upcoming game, one that I think in my mind should be winnable, my 'faithful' mate steps outside the marriage and disappoints me devastatingly. When they traveled to Columbia, and the weather was less than hospitable (much like a Tiger fan), my hopes were not on a solid foundation. I still begged and pleaded for my beloved team to pull it out just for me, and much to my surprise, they did! Our matrimony was on the mend. I felt the love flowing from Lincoln. I had renewed faith that my team was going to be faithful for a long time. Boy did that change in a hurry! I actually took precious time, and spent hard earned money to go visit my wonderful team the following week in Lincoln. Apparently our relationship didn't mean that much. They played as if they were all hungover and in slow motion. They let Texas Tech use and abuse them. How could they after all we've been through?! Afterwards, they seemed so sincere in their apology for lack of performance and asked those of us in Husker nation to forgive. So I dug down deep, swallowed a huge 1000mg pride pill, and said 'yes' I forgive. Now let's get this train back on its tracks and moving North and South! Then that little tramp, aka Iowa State came to town, and my Huskers, in their weakened condition, caved in under the pressure, and hurt my feelings again. So my hesitation this week I feel is well founded. Do I waste more time, watching my emotionally scarred team from afar (on TV), or do I play hard to get, find something more worthwhile to do (work), and make them prove to me that they truly love me, and are going to bring home flowers (a win)? Oh what the hell! Cut my finger and Nebraska red flows! Of course I'm going to watch the game. All I've got to say is, this is the game to slap some people around and treat them with some disrespect! Teams in the lower half of a conference actually expect that. It's time to get off the pot and 'man up'! The whole state is willing and expecting mature, responsible, monogamous football (not exactly sure what that means). Please don't disappoint us this weekend.

Let's Talk Business

Relax, I'm not trying to sell you anything. I just need to clear the air on the subject of business ownership. Many people, friends included, think that because you happen to own your own business, you must be rolling in it. If they only knew the 'it' I was rolling in, they'd probably keep their distance. I don't understand the notion where they think I'm pulling money in hand over fist. Let's take a moment and analyze the situation. Let's play the 'observation game'. Look, first, at Kevin's house. It happens to be rather small, with practically nothing for closet space, AND only one bathroom. Plus, I reside in South Omaha, on a piece of property the size of a postage stamp. Folks may rationalize, maybe he just likes it that way. Simple and unassuming. They're not far off. I do like simple and unassuming, but with slightly more , well thought out, space. Let's now focus on the house itself. If you look closely at the windows, not all match. There happens to be three new windows, and the remainder are the originals. There are about three or four more that need to be replaced, so why doesn't Kevin take care of that? He shouldn't be such a tightwad and dip into his Swiss bank account, and replace those worn out windows. Then there's the siding. I think 35 years is pretty much beyond the life expectancy of the siding that's been through several hail storms, and that freak October snow storm. If Kevin would just part with some of that money, he could single handedly spark the economy! Oh, let's not forget the crumbling front porch steps. He does concrete work for a living, why hasn't he replaced them? What a lazy turd! I think what people fail to realize, even though I'm a business owner, all the money taken into the company, is not mine. In fact, a rather small amount actually stops in my account. Easily 50% (that number can climb based upon the material picked) of all jobs goes right back out the door to pay vendors. Well maybe all the profit is built into the over inflated price I charge? All jobs, I make 15 - 30% based on the size of the job. Smaller jobs - 30%, larger jobs - 15%. Commercial jobs are even less. So let's base a hypothetical, Kevin type, smells of money, equation, with one hundred dollars. $100 - $50(material) = $50. $50 - 70%(labor) = $15. Let's not forget Uncle Sam, he likes money too! $15 - $4.50(taxes) = $10.50. There are also overhead costs that a percentage can't really be factored in, because it changes from job to job. It's a big guess on my part while working up the estimate. Some jobs are more profitable than others, but some may say, ' Surely you make more than $100 dollars on your jobs'? Sometimes. My whole reason for going into business had very little to do with making HUGE amounts of money. For years, I was a company man. I worked my tail off for unthankful employers. They would scream because you finished the job a day early, rather than two days early. They would promise you perks, and then take them away. Some had never even set tile, so the mistakes would get passed on to you, along with the blame. Homey was tired of playin' those games, so he went into business for himself in 1997, and hasn't looked back. I do make a little more for my efforts, but my efforts are twice as much as they used to be. I often tell people, "I'm the proud owner of a multi hundred dollar business", and "I get really excited when I see a comma in my bank account".

21 Years!

Yes, 21 years ago today, My wife and I started our life long goal of putting up with one another. She does more putting up than I do. I'm just testing her integrity. Can she actually go a lifetime without a murder charge? We'll see. Unfortunately for her, I have no intentions of straying. She, not only tolerates me, but she actually spoils me. I don't understand. But I'm not going to question it, I'm just going to go with it until she becomes senile and comes to her senses. Another reason I would never wander from home, that would be cruel to disappoint and frustrate two women in my lifetime. Besides, I now have baggage. Yes, she 'blessed' me with two children who would make another woman's life not worth living. Oh, they're good kids, they just don't know it yet. I'm sure some day the goodness will leak out, and I won't have to be fearful of them eating their young. The thought of replacing my wife (sorry for the analogy hon), would be like getting a new baseball glove, breaking it in over the years, playing numerous innings - too numerous to keep track, occasionally fixing the stitching, winning game after game with the perfect fit for a ball glove, and getting a new one someday, after I'm too old to play the game anymore. What's the point? She knows every fiber of my being. She's knows my likes and dislikes (and then does the opposite), but 99.9% of the time, we're pretty good buddies. Time to start working on year 22.

Hibernation

I want to say right up front, I don't like the fact that daylight savings time was pushed off til November. I have definitely turned into a bear. I come home from work and I can hardly keep my eyes open until 9:00 PM. I'll usually doze for a couple of hours, get up, get ready for bed, fall asleep fairly soon, and not wake up until my alarm goes off. It's not over yet! Instead of hitting the 'snooze' button, I'll turn my alarm off at 6 and sleep another 30 to 60 minutes. So for the last two weeks, I've been getting about 9 - 10 hours of sleep per night. Hopefully I can change up my sleep addiction when daylight savings finally arrives. Mentally, I know I'll be gaining an hour of sleep, so that will make me want to stay up a little later, knowing I have sleep hours in the bank. Lack of sleep, on the other hand, can cause one to feel grumpy and agitated. I'm not sure what my excuse is there. Maybe I am really turning into a bear.

I've Seen It All!

Yesterday I took some time out of my personal chaos, and went to Lincoln to see my Husker team taken advantage of by Texas Tech and the officiating crew. Sometimes I wonder why I even get emotionally involved. On to the real reason for blogging today. The friends I happen to be with are a very even keeled bunch, who don't let petty things get in the way of life. That's one quality I try to incorporate in my life. They also seem very grounded, and when a crisis, or seeming crisis arises, they just deal with it and move on. Once again, my philosophy. Well, after the game, we sat and had beer and pizza at a joint called Yia Yia's. Check it out, it's a great place. So my buddy and I are talking about getting older, because that's what you're supposed to do when you get older, and one perception we've both had is, nothing really seems to rattle us anymore. We feel like we've seen it all. For instance, the other day I had to enter the Walmart zone. Now if you're going to Walmart be sure to bring your Walmart bingo card. So as we walk into the store, one of the first people I see in the checkout line, is a transvestite. My reaction was, "Huh, he sure makes for an ugly woman". Then I went on with my shopping. Apparently, over the years I've become desensitized. I don't know if that's good or bad. So I'm in my forties now. I wonder how my view on things will change in my fifties and sixties? I guess if I look at my relatives older than myself, that's probably indicative of my future. There'll come a time when I'm going to complain about the cost of living, the weather, and health care, and wonder if the money I'll receive in my golden years will allow me to exist. These are legitimate concerns. I can't wait until the age, where my internal editor retires, and I start blurting out what other people are thinking, but too afraid to say. Of course it will embarrass those who are closest to me, but the nice thing is, they'll just blame it on my age:)

Hand Made

If you look on the bottom and its say, 'Made in China', chances are, it's NOT hand made. On the other hand, if you happen to know an artisan of some sorts, and have had the privilege of watching them in action, you know first hand what 'hand made' means. I've worked around quite a few skilled craftsmen over the years, to recognize true talent when I see it. When a carpenter chooses to use a hand coping saw rather than an electric jigsaw, or he opts for the block plane as opposed to the belt sander, you know at that moment you're going to witness a type of 'old world' way of creating things. The older gentleman who nursed me through my apprenticeship, happened to be such a person, even though he considered his trade as a means to an end - just a job. One day, while sitting at lunch (we used to bring our lunch everyday), he picked up his tile nippers, a piece of tile, and started to play around. Keep in mind, tile nippers are for chipping away bits of tile until you get close to the shape you need. There are certain aspects of the nippers you figure out after multiple upon multiple uses. The tool does have limitations, and if you push it too far, or use it incorrectly, you will inevitably have to start over with another piece. Well back to the story. So after a couple of minutes nipping away at a piece of tile, he holds up a horse head silhouette. And from a distance it looked like a horse head! It was remarkable! It was fun to watch and see the finished product. I have an acquaintance who happens to be building his own house as we speak. He happens to be somewhat of a perfectionist. He is also an accomplished artist. I've had the pleasure of working with this fellow over the last 3 - 4 years, and have been involved in some incredible projects. I feel a little flattered, because he recently asked me to help him do a concrete vanity in his house. He's quickly ran some ideas by me, and he wants, not only a functional sink, but a piece of art. We're going to collaborate on the project, so it won't be all me, but just to be asked was pretty cool. I'll definitely have to bring my 'A' game. We will employ power tools for the sake of convenience and time, but a good portion of this is going to have to be done by hand. There's nothing quite like creating something by hand, and having it turn out better than expected. I hope this is a success and I'll have pics on my website. All of us have a creative side to us whether we realize it or not. You won't realize it unless you try it. Failure just gives you the excuse to try it again. So don't be afraid to pick up that paint brush and paint, or that carving knife and whittle. It beats sitting in front of a computer!

Odoriferous

As parents, we instill a moral responsibility in our children to be kind and considerate to people of all walks of life. The color of their skin and gender do not mean we have superiority over another. The way a person dresses is a personal choice, and should not be treated differently because they don't fit into our ideology. But how about the way a person smells? They too should not be treated with disrespect, but its hard to start up a conversation with the guy, whose breath smells of stale coffee, and who insists on putting his face within three inches of yours, and taking a deep breath, to then exhale a long 'hello', into your supply of oxygen. Then there's the person who feels bathing is an option, and smoking is a necessity. Some try to cover body funk with a splash or twelve of perfume, others feel the lingering stench of the cheapest cigarette on the market, is actually an attractive scent. Next is the little old lady wearing her winter coat in July, with the stash of moth balls in her pockets. Or, perhaps the same little old lady who happens to live with 46 cats, 7 dogs, and a guinea pig, covered in pet hair, and smells like a kennel. The human race sure is a smelly bunch. But we're not alone on this earth. Walk through the zoo sometime, and stop to take a deep breath near the gorillas, or the elephants. Go fishing for a day and see how your hands smell afterwards. That scent doesn't easily wash off. So even though we're a funky bunch, every other living species has to put up with the stale waft of each other also. All I'm saying is, try to love them for who they are, and not for what they've been rolling in.

All Is Right Once Again

The outcome of the Misery vs. Nebraska game was as it should be. Once again, the Huskers had to battle two teams, the Tigers and the Zebras. Officiating was lousy, but the better team won. I was thrilled to see the BLACKSHIRTS (pay attention Bo), were extremely stingy and dominate. They needed to rise to the challenge since our offense couldn't seem to get there wheels on for three quarters. But when they finally found a crack in the dam, the flood waters came (in more ways than one). I hope this is the start of a long streak of check marks in the 'L' column for Mizzou. I enjoy watching the hard hitting battle, but they are such a dirty playing team, and their coach is something else! They've humiliated us for the last couple of years, so this was a little payback. The way this game played out was so unexpected, especially if you're a Tiger fan. It's like a skunk crossing the interstate. He passes through the first three lanes with not much excitement, then steps into the fourth lane and WHAM! The semi truck won. This unexpected victory couldn't have happened against a more despised rival. And what a blow to the ego of a coach who thinks 'he's too sexy' for the Big 12 North. Good job boys for hanging in there and spanking the tiger!

Collage

I had an interesting thought while in my truck last week, driving to Sydney, NE. Believe me, 6 hours at the wheel is plenty of time to think about random, useless, thoughts. Here's my thought. As I'm zooming down I-80, various insects are sacrificing themselves upon my windshield. Are some of these insects endangered? Did that one splatter in the middle of my vision, just bring a species into extinction? These are living creatures and I'm responsible for ending their tiny little lives. Is God going to hold me accountable? After reasoning awhile on it, I decided that He would probably forgive me since I was going to volunteer my time for the betterment of mankind. And then I got to thinking about how annoying it is for an insect, the size of a marshmallow, to play 'chicken' with you, and lose, and coat half of your windshield with juicy bug entrails. Turn on the wipers, spray some windshield washer fluid, and finish smearing all over the rest of your windshield. Perfect! I just cut my vision down to about 50 feet! Of course, when you stop for gas, it's time to clean the collage off your windshield. Then, my mind switched gears again, and wondered how cool my collage of insects would be, if I traveled all the way across the country without cleaning my windshield. I would have quite the bug collection! I don't really lose sleep over dead flying things on the windshield. If you happen to notice, there is never short supply of insects to pollute your windshield, and multiply that by how many drivers on the road?

6 Year Olds

Hopefully all of us out there have friends. We may have had some friends for a really long time, others may be fairly recent. Regardless, friends are a must to make it through life with your sanity intact. Sometimes friends move away, and you end up losing touch with them. Occasionally, friends change, and even though you still may be friends, the relationship is different and maybe not as close as it once was. I'm sure all of us have our intimate circle of friends, those to whom we are closest and do everything with. There are some friends who bring out the best, and others who bring out the worst in you. I happen to have both. When I say 'worst', I don't mean 'law breaking' or 'immoral' actions. I mean, we get together, start joking around, playing off of each others comments and, at times, laughing uncontrollably! I don't necessarily consider this behavior my 'worst', on the contrary, I view it as my 'best'. Everyone around me considers it my 'worst'. Many times we revert back to being 6 years old, whether we knew each other then, or not, at the age of 6. Six year olds in action, with the vocabulary of an adult, spells for a good time! Plus, how many 6 year olds do you know who can hold their liquor? What's amazing is when you happen to be apart for some time, and then reunite, you can usually pick up from right where you left off. That's how you know you have a good friend... when he can lower himself to your standards:)

Cookie Cutter

Let me first say, "I am sick, but I DO NOT have the H1N1! I did eat bacon today though. On to the real subject. I recently went on a quick shopping spree with my wife. Work was a little sparse, there was no football on at 10 AM, Friday morning, I wasn't hungover or anything like that, so really no excuse to 'not' go. She was interested in finding a pair of black boots for winter, and we were out of dog food. If the dog were solid black, I could have just made her a pair. So off to DSW, since her boots had to be solid black. I like DSW, especially the clearance items. The problem with shopping for clothes or shoes for myself is, I must have the most common size on earth. From my shirt to my shoes, I NEVER find anything on sale. I've been to Marshall's and TJ Maxx a few times, and not only are they out of sale items my size, but their full price rack has only two items my size, and mentally disturbed escapees from the insane asylum wouldn't be caught dead in these fashions. Today we happened to wander into the Gap store. Once again, sale items in Kevin's size - non existent. Full price merchandise - two. There are times I wish I had a huge back porch, just so I could buy something cool on sale. Or my feet were the size of children's feet, just to be able to wear the latest footwear, yet at a discounted price. I suppose if I were twice as big as I am now, was able to find the 'deal of the century' on a pair of wicked cool jeans, folks would point me out of a crowd just to criticize how much denim had to be killed in order to clad my fanny in jeans. I suppose if I were willing to spend more for my clothing, I might be able to be more selective, and actually have a choice. Another reason for my lack of 'landing the good buy', is the fact I go shopping about once or twice a year. If I were more in touch with my feminine side, I would shop more often and maybe I would have a halfway decent wardrobe that possibly didn't clash, and hurt your teeth to look at. Honestly, this isn't a huge concern for me, being the 'fashionista' that I am. Of course my wardrobe is on the cutting edge..... of homelessness. I just feel sorry for my family when they have to be seen in public with me. I tell them to explain to people that I'm just out for the weekends with adult supervision. Everyone seems to understand.

Murphy's Law

What can go wrong, will go wrong. Such optimism on the part of Mr. Murphy. Who was Murphy? Who appointed him lawmaker of misfortune? Apparently Mr. Murphy was involved in aeronautics back in the 1930's, when he came across a mistake in wiring during an experiment of deceleration. He said, "If there's anyway of doing it wrong, he'll find it"! Thus the law of Murphy was established. There is also a mathematical solution to Murphy's Law. It is as follows: 1 + 1 -> 2. The symbol, ->, means, 'hardly ever'. So the statement is, 1 + 1 is hardly ever 2. The solution just can't be that easy. Things don't always add up. No doubt many of us have experienced the hardships associated with Murphy's Law. The one day you don't take an umbrella, it pours buckets out of the sky. So occasionally we break the law of Murphy, and are punished to the letter of the law. Some of us are habitual Murphy's lawbreakers, while others seem to have Murphy's Law figured out, and stay one step ahead of the law. It would seem sometimes circumstances are beyond our control, the moon and the planets are out of alignment, and we happen to be standing under a tree with a bird in it, wearing our favorite shirt. We're not even looking for trouble, it just happens to pull our name out of a hat, and we're the Murphy's Law lottery winner for the day. If it strikes early in the day, it's almost impossible to escape further recurrences for the remainder of the day. At those moments, we should consider whether to struggle thru every second of every minute, or turn around and go back to bed. Here's a pared down list of Murphy's Laws. Enjoy.
1. Nothing is as easy as it looks.
2. Everything takes longer than you think.
3. Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.
4. If there is a possibility of several things going wrong, the one that will cause the most damage will be the one to go wrong. If there is a worse time for something to go wrong, it will happen then.
5. If anything simply cannot go wrong, it will anyway.
6. If you perceive that there are four possible ways in which a procedure can go wrong, and circumvent these, then a fifth way, unprepared for, will promptly develop.
7. Left to themselves, things tend to go from bad to worse.
8. If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something.
9. Nature always sides with the hidden law.
10. Mother nature is a bitch.
11. It is impossible to make anything foolproof because the fools are so ingenious.
12. Whenever you set out to do something, something else must be done first.
13. Every solution breeds new problems.
And finally, Murphy's Philosophy: Smile... tomorrow will be worse:)

Head West Young Man!

Either tonight after work, or early tomorrow morning, I'll be going to western Nebraska to work on a Kingdom Hall. Sydney to be exact. Hopefully work finishes a little early and I can get out of Dodge sooner. Murphy's law, I probably will end up with a ten hour day. I have at least one person going with, so I won't be sleeping behind the wheel. He's a pretty good road trip compadre, so I won't have to listen to country music, or listening to whining about not listening to country music. We should only be there two days. The first day, we set tile right on the open slab of concrete. There are no walls yet, so the walls are laid out and chalked in so we know where to stop and start our tile. The next day grout, turn around and head back down the hill to Omaha. We set the tile a week or two before the actual build, because when you set a piece of tile, you can't walk on it for eight hours minimum. This building is going to be constructed in three to four days, completely finished, all the way down to the sod in the yard. This is why we set tile beforehand, because there's not eight hours to burn. I used to keep track of how many projects I've worked on, but I have lost count. I was at 37, I'm probably around 42 or 43 now. I've been all over the midwest and have seen some beautiful country, and have met some great people. I've worked in Missouri, Iowa, South Dakota, and obviously Nebraska. All work is volunteer, to help keep the cost down, so our friends in other locations are not strapped with a mortgage they can't afford, or so they can enjoy a new meeting place that they could not otherwise afford. Some of the more memorable ones are Rapid City, SD, the most fun. Spearfish, SD, the most scenic. Gregory, SD, the best tasting water. Shenandoah, IA, my first one. Lincoln, grouting in the rain. Harlan, IA, staying awake for thirty hours straight. North Omaha, the biggest. Vermillion, SD, the hottest weekend. I'm sure there's something I could probably remember from each one if I sat down and thought about it long enough. Well, time to pack up the mules, and head west west young man! Tell ma I'll write,...... or rather 'blog'.

Omaha

I just finished watching an episode of Anthony Bourdain - No Reservations. He's a New Yorker, and this episode he sought out the delicacies of his surrounding neighborhoods. Which got me thinking, how well do I know my hometown? How about the outlying suburbs? I've lived in south O (otherwise known as "God's country') for 19 years now. South O I'm pretty familiar with. I grew up in northwest Omaha and the Benson area. I know my way around fairly well. I've worked construction since graduating from high school, so I'm in west O quite a bit. I'm one of those people who familiarizes areas with landmarks - usually food related. I try to seek out the little mom n pop places, greasy spoons, hole in the wall, non chain restaurants. Iknow which neighborhoods are safe and which ones to keep on driving. I'm somewhat self educated on Omaha history. I feel I have a well rounded knowledge of my hometown. My current stomping grounds are chock full of decent restaurants. Some even know me by name. Of course, I have my favorites. If you're on 20th & U St., there's Sam's Mexican Deli, 18th & Vinton, my personal favorite, Louie M's Burger Lust, 33rd St between L and Q is Guaca Maya. At 38th & Center is Greek Islands. Then there is the Old Market area. Jazz for cajun, Upstream Brewery (self explanatory), haven't eaten at Vivace's in awhile, but I had good meals there. A couple of midtown favorites are the Dundee Dell for fish n chips, and Amsterdam Falafel & Kabob, both at 50th & Underwood. Sortino's Pizza is my choice for pizza, Big Fred's is a close second. I live extremely close to Lo Sole Mio's. Espana in downtown Benson is an experience worth going for. Bianca's on 132nd & Maple was amazing! I'm a little disillusioned with west O, because it has been overrun with sparkling new chain restaurants. A couple of the chains are OK, but I prefer the smaller, more intimate setting. One area of town that could use a decent non chain diner, is Irvington. My shop is located there, and pickings are slim. I even have a couple of spots in Lincoln. M&N Sandwich Shop and Yia Yia's Pizza are worth honorable mention. There's many others I haven't mentioned, but all you have to do is talk to folks, and they'll be happy to brag about a restaurant they're proud of and consider their own. Then you've found a new destination and a fresh menu to satisfy your appetite for Omaha.

German For a Day!

Attended my fourth annual Octoberfest over the weekend. It was a smashing success. I consumed the highly touted, long awaited, Warsteiner Octoberfest beer. It just so happens, September is the time they tap the first keg of octoberfest. So Octoberfest celebration is for the tapping of the kegs, it has nothing to do with the month of October. I don't make the rules, I just go along with them. It is one of the most festive celebrations I've been to. There are several Octoberfests throughout the month of September, in various locations. I've been to a couple of different ones, but the best is at the German American Society. It's by far the largest one in Omaha. Four years ago, my friend, Ben, and his family, introduced us to Octoberfest. They, being true Germans, have been attending for years. Last Octoberfest was their last 'hurrah' for Omaha, since they all moved to Arizona. Last year was definitely bittersweet. I felt the need to join them to properly send them off to the desert, because they were leaving two weeks afterward. I wasn't sure how this year's festival was going to feel, for this was my first festival without them. It felt a little like the first day of kindergarten (hey, a German word). Not sure what to expect, will I make friends, will my teacher be nice, am I going to cry and miss my mom, will the beer still taste the same, so many unknowns. Fortunately, I invited a few friends, who have never been. This was their maiden voyage. They're a fun loving group, most of the time, so I figured if we mix that with a little bit of draft, this could be a jolly good time. I felt, by the evenings end, everyone enjoyed themselves, especially the children. How could you not enjoy yourself. You have heavy German beer, laden with calories, heavy German food, laden with calories, heavy German women dressed in old world German garb, laden with calories, and polka music! My oldest daughter mentioned this is, by far, the best activity we do together, as a family, all year. She now looks forward to joining in the festivities a whole year in advance. We've already marked it on our calendar for next year.

I'm Seeing Red!

Not because I'm in Huskerland euphoria, no, I think you know why! So many things went wrong on Saturday, the Huskers just couldn't ascend the mountain they built for themselves. I really get tired of seeing Nebraska spot a team seven points within the first 3 minutes of a game. I feel we should elect to receive the ball on opening kickoff, rather than defend. May be the other team will spot us seven. The officiating seemed a tad bit ridiculous. Unfortunately, they were Big XII officials. Maybe they too will improve as the season progresses. One play I don't completely understand. Maybe someone out there, other than a Hokie, can help me see what the officials apparently didn't see. Menelik Holt caught a pass in the end zone, both feet in, fell out of bounds and fumbled when he hit the ground. It appeared to me he had possession, and when he fumbled, the ground actually caused the fumble. I have been under the assumption for quite a few years now, that the ground cannot cause a fumble. Am I in the wrong here? Was I confusing my lacrosse rules with football rules? To top it off, that play did not even come under review. The Huskers just seem to be too nice. Nebraska has a way of bringing out the best in other teams. They're the motivational speaker that gets you worked up in a frenzy to go conquer what lies before you. I say, "Enough Mr. Niceguy". With all the road work going on in this state, there has to be a spare steamroller somewhere. Playing another pud team this week is not going to prove anything. It's like you got beat up by your big sister, and now you're going to go take it out on the pipsqueak next door, who happens to be five years younger. I sure hope Bo is there helmets all week at practice. Maybe as the week progresses, I'll simmer down a bit from red to a paler shade of pink. That's it! Hand out pink shirts instead of black shirts. The harder you work and prove you're ready to perform, you get to shed the pink for black! It's a good thing I'm not coach, I'd probably have a dozen players meeting me out in the alley, stuffing pink jerseys where jerseys aren't supposed to be worn. Either way, I'm whining until we can defeat a top 20 team soundly. See you Saturday!

Pillow Fight

My wife and I have this ongoing spat over the pillow arrangement on our bed. First of all, we each have more pillows than heads. I have three pillows, one for each head, and she has three pillows for just one head. A few times a week, the pillows seem to migrate to my side of the bed, making it lopsided and no longer symmetrical. Now as a man, I know other men out there are no different than me, I'm not particularly aware of my surroundings until it smacks me in the face. So when I go to bed, I don't stop to take 'pillow roll call', to see whose defected to my side. I shut the light off, turn around three times, and close my eyes. Many times I'm in bed before my wife. She's somewhat of a night owl, staying up cleaning, watching something on TV, reading, Facebooking, etc., etc. So when she comes to bed, there's a good chance I'm already asleep. Before she gets in though, she takes count of how many pillows I have, and how many she has. Keep in mind, I'm always the first out of bed in the morning, so during the course of the day, somehow a pillow sneaks its way to my side. Next thing I know, a pillow is being yanked from underneath my head, and dropping to the next level of pillow. Of course this awakens me, which, once I figure out what's happening, puts me in the greatest of moods. So last night was another pillow fight, and I told her "this is going to make for good blog material". She kind of gave me that evil chuckle as if I were crossing the line, and could possibly receive retaliation from the mafia. "No, please don't kill my dog", I pleaded. Oh, and I was not to mention the Jupiterlike noxious gas that floated out from under the covers, like a London fog. So consider that unmentionable. I know she's going to read this and I'm going to be in deep. Heads up hon, I drooled on your pillow and now you have Kevin germs;)

Beware!

My daughter turned 15 yesterday. Yes, much like when milk goes bad, she turned. She has been studying the driver's manuel day and night, with the objective of obtaining a driver's permit the very second she turned. Now that she's 15, she feels she is not only capable of driving an automobile, but she also wants to own one. Please keep in mind, this is a girl who has about $50 to her name, and no job. So those qualifications entitle her to whatever she desires. Spoiled brat! So her legal guardians have not bowed down to her unrealistic expectations, thus leading to the accusation, in her mind, of child abuse. At the time I turned 15, within about two weeks, I did obtain a driver's permit. When I turned 16, I was allowed to get my license for a couple of reasons. First, I had a part time job. I paid for insurance, gas , repairs, and the car I bought was a 1969 VW Beetle with no heat, for $150. I had saved about $800 prior to buying my car, but I didn't get my car for about 3 months after I turned 16. Second, I was living with my grandparents at the time, because my mother's life was going down the toilet, and I needed a way to and from school. Allowing me to drive solved a couple of different issues. My daughter, the spoiled 'princess', feels we are denying her of god given rights, by making her show us a measure of responsibility, by completing a certain percentage of her school work, prior to acquiring a permit. Once she has the permit though, driving is still going to be limited due to the fact a parent has to accompany her. We're not going everywhere she feels the urgent need to be somewhere to be seen. There are going to be occasions where I insist on driving rather than her. I have a feeling, the next couple of years are going to be filled with utter disappointment, because the 'princess' can't do or have everything at the snap of her fingers. Little does she realize, a REAL princess is always chauffeured.

Hunger Strike

The term 'hunger strike' means something different to me than to the mainstream radicals. They quit eating in protest, to further a cause, or to stop an injustice. When my hunger strikes, I have to throw food at it to stop the violence. Now fasting, on the other hand, is completely different. Some people fast for religious reasons, for better clarity of mind, for bodily cleansing, and for health reasons. I've had to fast a couple of times before going to visit the doc. He is wise to make me do this if he's probing where he shouldn't be. I've seen what exits my body, and I surely wouldn't want to be on the receiving end. But I've never had to go more than 24 hours without food. Actually a person can go several weeks without food, before perishing. The body starts to live off of fat supplies. The chubbier the individual, the longer you'll survive. Now water is a different story. A person can only make it for about 4-6 days tops, without some H2O. It doesn't matter what your size is, you will dehydrate like a worm on the sidewalk during a sunny day. Back to fasting though. Every single day, each one of us unknowingly fasts. When you tuck yourself in at night, sleep for eight hours, and awaken, you've fasted on a short term basis. So to 'break' the 'fast', you put those two words together and viola! BREAKFAST. I've been thinking about trying to fast for a short period of time (other than just between sittings), to realize first, what the hunger pang feels like beyond my normal routine of meals. Occasionally I skip lunch, but never two meals in a row. I'd like to pay attention to my moods and my energy level. Most people experiencing hunger, along with low blood sugar, get hangry (combination hungry and angry). But this probably goes away in a short period of time. The times where I work through lunch, my stomach will rumble around noontime, but if I ignore it, it soon subsides. Moods would be hard to monitor depending on the environment you've created for yourself that day. You could be angry from hunger, or you could be angry at the individuals around you, in which case, their lives could be in danger because of your lack of food. Please keep in mind, if you try this experiment, cannibalism is frowned upon in most societies. Energy levels are fairly easy to monitor. After a big meal, you're sluggish from your body working overtime to digest the millions of calories consumed. After a snack or sensible meal, one may experience a burst of energy. When I've worked through lunch, I seem to have more than the usual amount of energy, but after awhile, the tank is on 'empty', and time to refuel. I also think it's good to feel hungry from a lack of food sometimes, for a moral sense. This way you're aware of what hundreds of thousands of people feel every minute of every day of their lives. Please, don't feel an overwhelming amount of pity because you have something to eat and they don't. There's not much you, personally, can accomplish to change their lot in life, but it just makes you conscious of their plight. No need to add yourself to the statistics if you have the means to feed yourself. So next time you're standing in line to order your triple whopper with cheese and everything else available to pile on it, think about the hungry folks around the globe, and DON'T supersize your meal.

Bait

Last night, we were invited to go with some friends to Blue Sushi. It was a fun crowd, so I obliged. Now, I'm not much for the raw seafood scene, so I was a little apprehensive about putting anything in my mouth. When it comes to sushi, I'm a novice. I don't know what to order, what's raw, what's cooked, what's claimed to be cooked, but tastes raw, I just don't know. So I put the life of my tastebuds in the hands of friends. They were good sports about it, but on the other hand, I didn't want to appear to be a sissy about it either. We started off with calamari appetizer. I loved cooked seafood, especially when battered and fried. So I ate my fair share of that, because I knew when the 'bait' arrived, I would struggle with getting it down. We also had some lettuce wraps and chicken on a stick (mainly for the kids). I think there was an underlying reason for the chicken skewers, just in case Kevin wussed out, they still wanted me to be able to keep my strength up. By the time appetizers were ordered, I think everyone at the table knew my, not so long history with sushi. Unfortunately, this drew a certain amount of attention and expectation from my dining comrades. I think they may have been taking bets under the table. There's a 12 to 1 shot he will gag, and spit it out in his napkin. Finally the plateful of 'cooked, but tastes raw', morsels arrive. Everyone at my end of the table are encouraging me to "dig in"! Just a side point, they look so beautifully prepared, in my mind they should be out of this world. On the flip side, they look so beautifully prepared, can't we just sit and look at them, like a piece of art? So I finally got my nerve up to try 2 different types. One had shrimp, the other, not quite sure what it was. I love shrimp, so I thought this would be a breeze. Now, I know I probably psyched myself out, but I had a strategy. Put it in my mouth, chew no more than three times, swallow, chase with a huge swig of beer. By the way, I ordered Guinness. I figured it to be the direct opposite in taste, so that would help disguise what I was about to do. Well, I got the first one down, barely! Then my coaches told me to try it with wasabi and soy sauce. What a revelation! So I cleared my palate with a half a glass of beer and my shirt sleeve, and tried it again. Second time went smoother with the help of the wasabi/soy sauce concoction, but after my 'big gulp' of beer, I was catching a hint of raw fish aftertaste, which happens to taste just as bad as tasting it originally. I tried one more time, with more wasabi and soy, thinking if I totally immersed this piece of 'whatever it was', chewed only twice, chase with beer, water, and lemon, that might be the recipe for me to join the elite group of sushi diners. Nope, still got the lingering taste of 'nasty', and knew that I should stop before I become the 'not so pleasant dining guest'. I have the same problem with liver. It hits a certain point in the back of my mouth, and I involuntarily gag. I was starting to feel that reflex, and I knew that I've reached my limit. This was my personal episode of Bizarre Foods, with Andrew Zimmer laughing at me behind the scenes. So I've promised my wife we would go back, because she has no problem with eating cat food. I will probably order myself a big bucket of those calamari and a beer. I could probably do sushi if I were the one preparing it. A nice beer batter, deep fry for a couple of minutes, serve hot with some Trappey's sauce, hushpuppies, and beer. Top it off with a wasabi after dinner mint.

%

Remember when Prince dropped his name and went by a symbol? That's what I'm doing. My new symbol is %. Just kidding , that's moronic! The reason I've titled this blog, %, is I'm coming upon my 21st wedding anniversary next month, and I've been married now for 48.8% of my life. Next year, 50%. But, its been 84% of my adult life. So this got me thinking about other percentages. My oldest daughter has been a part of my life for 34.8%, the youngest, 16.3%. I was 6 years old when I broke my arm and have had a rather impressive scar for 86.1% of life. I've worn glasses for 76.8%. I've been a coffee drinker for 67.5%. Beer for 66.7%. I knew 75% of my grandparents, but only 25% of my great grandparents. I don't know what percentage of life I have left in me, but I hope I'm not at the 50% mark yet. The first 43 years has slipped by, and one day I woke up and wondered, "How did I get here?". Why, it just seems like a week ago I was graduating from high school. I remember vividly, my children being born. I'm on my way to pushing the half century mark. I've been in the same trade for a quarter of a century, that's 58.1% spent on my knees, in somebody's bathroom! I've lived in the same house for 34.8%, my children, 100%. I don't know, really, what percent Italian I am, but, I'm just happy to say that I have some in me. I like 90% of all people I meet, 45% after I get to know them. 75% of food I'll eat, 90% of beer I'll drink. I've now been a 'blogger' (I still hate that word), for 1.3% of my life. Mind boggling!