New Website

The wife, also known as, all smart, all knowing, about computer stuff, has put me up a new website for concrete countertops. Check out something extremely cool and heavy man. www.ca20studio. com

Mind Boggling

Hope you're sitting down for this one. All of us, whether we admit it or not, are somewhat of an expert in our field of occupation choice. You might disagree, but stick with me here. In my job, we mix quite a bit of cement - BY HAND! That's right, we usually use a mud box, which holds 9 cu. ft. of cement, that's 1/3 of a cu. yd. If you go to a home improvement center and stroll down the aisle where the concrete is kept, load up 14 bags of concrete mix, and there you have 9 cu. ft. So 9 cu. ft. is rather par for the course when we are pouring cement at work. So I stopped to think about that the other day. I've been doing the same thing now, for 25 years! I was imagining the mountain of cement that I've personally mixed and/or floated over that time period. I would probably vomit if it were piled in front of me. Not everyone has the pleasure? of mixing cement at their job, but if you sit at a desk, typing all day long, imagine the volumes of encyclopedias that you've penned over the years! One friend does floor cleaning for a living, (you know who you are), picture the river of sludge he has cleaned up for the amount of years he's been at it! From a human standpoint, these are kind of remarkable accomplishments. Now that we're all feeling a little prouder of our accomplishments today, GET BACK TO THE GRINDSTONE!

That... DOG!

Last night, while sitting on the deck, enjoying a glass or two of sangria with my wife, I had a great idea for my blog entry today. I was trying to think in my mind, some type of word association to help me remember the topic for today. We continued talking for some time and I was commenting at how our canine from the pound, has adjusted well to our family. That's right, I let a compliment slip about the dog. Well, true to his nature and sole purpose here on earth, he lived up to his responsibilities last night. There was a piece of steak sitting on the counter, what was to be my older daughter's supper, and it vanished into thin air. I found the steak knife on the floor, and immediately assumed "the dog". The plate was still on the counter. Had the plate and knife remained on the counter, I would have concluded my daughter ate the piece of steak. But with a little amateur detective work, piecing the crime scene together, and given the fact my dog doesn't have opposable thumbs, plus his guilt ridden attitude when you walk into the same room with him, it was pretty much an open and closed case. There's nothing that irks me more than when the dog takes liberties with my things (especially food). So, over the last three years, I am retracting BOTH positive comments I've mistakenly made concerning my dog. He continues his role as chief tormenter and the greatest supplier of irritation in my life. Oh yeah, that great blog idea has been clouded out of my mind, thanks to you know who. GRRRRR!!!

Up To The Challenge

This is totally a guy thing. A friend and myself were discussing the phenomena that overcomes a guy when he sees something as a personal challenge. Nobody has dared you, except the challenge itself. Not only do you need to prove it to yourself, but you want to have bragging rights to the whole world! He was recently in South Dakota, and while staying at a hotel/motel he saw a huge flight of steps across the street, behind a fire station. First he was curious, then it overcame him. Can I run up this huge flight of steps? In my youth, it would have been no problem. I'm still in decent shape. People don't necessarily vomit when they see me with my shirt off, I can do this! Let the games begin! Off he went, up the mountainside one step at a time. A third of the way through, he realized this was no walk in the park. Three quarters of the way through, and he was not only wondering if he was going to make it, but wondering if he would live to tell about it. Happy ending - he made it! It took several minutes of panting and excruciating rib pain at the top before the decent. Mark that one off in "the list of things to do before I die". For the next several days, his muscles in his legs were extremely sore from stupidly undertaking such a daunting task. When asked if he would do it again, the answer was a resounding "NO", until some other obstacle stands in the way of him and, well,... nothing. That's pretty much the ways guys think, or rather, don't think, just react. I was once asked if I would eat a stick of butter, not dared, just asked mind you. So after some negotiating of money, I knew I could do it. The butter went in, my cholesterol went up, and the butter some how found its way down. Was it worth $5? You bet! Would I do it again? Hell no! But, it's now on my "been there, done that" list. Now that I'm older, and much wiser, I hesitate first, before venturing into something completely idiotic:)

HHIII

Happy Hour III officially kicks of in 5 minutes. This would also be the start of the weekend:) My phone is shut off and I'm not wearing my watch after five. See ya on Monday!

Get It Out There

I think I'm settling in to this blogging thing. I get things out of my head, onto paper? I guess this is not really paper. Regardless, it's no longer bouncing around in my brain, looking for the exit door. What's really confusing is when multiple thoughts are slam dancing in the mosh pit, known as Kevin's head. When that happens, I seem to go in circles. Since I'm right handed, I would have a tendency to wander to the right, until someone steers me differently. I hate to do this, because I do not encourage folks to spend time with their computer, but if you need a somewhat harmless release, blog about it. If blogging isn't your thing, try a diary. It's not just for girls. Famous men of old, i.e. Lewis and Clark, kept diaries of their journey. Now we have first hand experience written in history books. If writing is just too much of an undertaking, but enjoy recreational reading, by all means, pick a blog, and follow it. Feel free to comment. It's always fun to see someone else's thought on a matter. So, if you can't blog, be a blog supporter:)

Six Degrees of Separation

I happen to live in the biggest small town you will ever visit, Omaha,NE. Seems everyone here knows the same people, related to the same people, has some type of business relationship, their children know each other - just one big, happy family. I am just amazed at the people I meet and they happen to know people I know. In Omaha, that six degrees of separation is more like four. One might have to be careful whom they date, it could be closer relation than you think! Good luck keeping a secret here. The people I've run into over the years, seem to move about in the same groups. There will be two or three circles of friends that a person will choose to associate with, and sometimes you may be invited to join another group for an occasion, or your group may have invited a new member into their microsociety, and this is how networking is accomplished. Occasionally, you run into the guy who knows everybody. No matter where you go, he'll see somebody he recognizes. I know a few people like that. I could be "that guy" if I tried harder to remember names and attach faces to them. I think I have a tendency to forget more than I remember. Networking is obviously good for business, but, to be good at it, you really have to hobnob and rub elbows with EVERYONE! I guess I don't care to whore myself out quite that much. Once in awhile, somebody comes up to me and says "hello", and I have no idea who they are. They know me , but I don't know them. For a moment, it makes me feel like a rock star, but on the same note, a little uneasy. Chances are, if they know me but I don't know them, they're further down the food chain than I am, and of no real significance in Omaha. So, I would invite you to have your peeps get in touch with my peeps, to get together, but in Omaha, chances are, we have the same peeps. See you at the family reunion/ company party/ circus.

What Is That Smell?

Up until the last couple of days, this year's weather has been rather mild. It's been wonderful for everything green. All spring long, flora and fauna have been in bloom, and extremely fragrant. The lilac bushes next door were like walking into an intoxicating elixir of fragrance. The magnolia tree out front gave off the sweetest smell for the longest time this year. And, I never tired of the smell of fresh cut grass. The scents of spring put me in constant euphoria... until a couple of days ago. The heat and the humidity were competing for the high for the day, and that makes for some less than desirable smells. All of a sudden, overnight, it was smells of stagnant, mosquito infested water, and sweat. I walked out the door this morning and thought, who left their odoriferous socks and shoes outside, to funky up my neighborhood? Then there's the garbage cans! Garbage never smelled so much like garbage, until recently. I practically gag every time I open the lid. Looks like we could get some rain tonight. That should help keep the humidity up and the wreaking smells of Nebraska summer, at an all time high! You gotta love this place, why else would you live here? For the scents?

Lost, But Not Forgotten

I just heard a song this morning that was actually recommended by my barber. It's from a group called the Decemberists. The song title is "Sons and Daughters". In the lyrics is the word "dirigible". I haven't heard that word in a long time. I think i might try to use it in a sentence today:) Oh, and by all means, listen to the song!

Clothing

Blog #2 in man vs. woman debate. Fortunately, this is one sided, so I should prevail. One BIG part of a woman's life is her wardrobe, or what she perceives as a lack of proper, functional, well fitted clothing. First, you have to consider the season. Four seasons require four different sets of clothing. Then there's color. Not all colors look good with certain skin types, so you pare it down to five or six, and fill those needs. Third, there is style. This is one of the most important factors to consider. All women are drawn to a certain style, depending on their personality. One needs to consider whether to dress formally or casual, and finally, age appropriate clothing needs to be considered. Now most women I know are not the analytical, anal retentive, organizational freaks, that some men are. So their clothing is not categorized by seasons, color, style, etc. It all seems to go into drawers or closets without much thought. I could see where this would be somewhat overwhelming, considering you're dealing with about 12-15 different wardrobes. And to top it off, could you imagine the tragedy that would occur if you arrived at the party wearing the same outfit as one of your friends? How could you ever leave the house and be seen in public again? Then there's the man's wardrobe, or shall I say, the wad of clothes stuffed in the drawers. Clothes just aren't that big of an issue with men. Not much thought is put into dressing, unless you're metrosexual and have to dress for the occasion. We get up in the morning, look into the drawers, pull out something, put it on, realize you're already wearing that, take it off and throw it somewhere other than back in the drawer. Walk to the closet and see pants hanging. Realize, hey, I'm not wearing pants yet, eureka! Many times, color is not considered in the dressing room decision. Smell has more to do with it than color coordination, and sometimes you can just turn it inside out to hide the mustard stain. One last check, yup, all the crucial areas seem to be covered, and underwear is clean (within 48 hours). Now, if a guy showed up to a party wearing the same outfit you happen to have on, chances are, you're going to become lifelong friends. That's just the way we think. One problem men may have with their wardrobe is when they get married. There is now a woman to scrutinize taste in color and style before you head out the door. I can't tell you how many times I've dressed, and before I even step out of my bedroom, the wife asks, "You're not going to wear that , are you?". My response, "No, I just wanted to see what you would say". I guess they have our best interest at heart. If we walked out of the house wearing what we did when we were single, other women would take notice and try to help us out with our clothing choices. That could be disastrous.

How Thoughtful

I was working in this lady's house, installing some tile the other day (big surprise), and somehow the topic of farmer's markets came up. Now I've only been to the farmer's market downtown once this year. I like to try to go about once a month, this way you get fresh veggies when they come in season. Well, I had expressed my disappointment to her about not finding any beets so far this year. She hadn't seen any either, and she sided with me in our adoration for the lovely purple veg. I returned this afternoon to finish her job, and she surprised me with a gift from the Village Point farmer's market, you guessed it, beets! I just thought it was such a thoughtful act to pay attention to what I was saying, and not pass it off as small talk. Everybody does it, but not many act on it. How cool. It just dawned on me though, I hope she doesn't think I will work for food:) Anyway, if you find yourself in Des Moines, IA, check out the farmer's market downtown. Rumor has it, it is the second largest in the country!

Man vs. Woman

I'm thinking of doing a series of blog entries involving the differences between a man and a woman. This is a man's perspective, so it should be somewhat biased. Sorry girls, you'll just have to play along. First noticeable difference I'd like to point out is body heat. My wife seems to have none. This time of the year, when the temperature and humidity are battling for the top billing for the day, I usually wear just enough clothes to remain legal. When I go to bed at night, it's down to the whitey tighties with no blankets or sheets. Do you have that image burned into your mind now? Good. There's nothing I hate more than perspiring in bed. My wife - the opposite sex, for those who just got here - is fully jammied up with at least a sheet, one blanket, and a comforter. I'm melting at just the thought. When winter rolls around, this is a brutal time of the year, here in the frozen tundra of Nebraska. Any sane person makes sure to wear extra garments, i.e., mittens, ear muffs, scarf, jock strap, boots, two pairs of socks, turtle neck, - whatever it takes to keep the appendages from turning blue and falling off. So on those bone chilling nights, when I tuck myself in, sometimes I'll slip on an undershirt. This time of the year, it would be foolish to not sleep under the covers, so I layer myself, a sheet, two blankets, and a comforter, to form a bedtime lasagna. My wife looks as if she's ready to go play in the snow, except for her feet. She slips in rather stealthily, and nestles up beside me to sap all my body heat, and then she hits me with two frozen bricks of ice, she likes to refer to as "feet", that almost send me into hypothermia! Have you ever touched dry ice? It will burn your skin, it's so cold. Same difference. I guess you could label us "fire and ice". Obviously, opposites attract. See ya for round 2.

Yesterday Was Just... Weird

My day started off in the crapper! I don't care to elaborate, because this is "happy" hour, not "blow steam" hour. After that, I went and set up shop at Joslyn Castle, to do some tile restoration. I'll be there for the rest of the week, and then in the future, when we find the correct tile to work on two other areas. So, I'm sitting in the foyer of the castle (as referred to by the employees), on my butt, carefully chiseling out 100+ year old broken tile, and being extremely careful not to break the good pieces. The tile is an unglazed, very extravagant 1/2" square mosaic, with a handmade border in different colors. To do a tile & stone job of this magnitude today, would be so expensive most people would opt for lesser quantity or quality. Two small tours were given while I pecked away at the broken stuff. The people visiting just poked their head in and acknowledged my presence, not really that interested in what I was doing, or wanting to help. Late in the day, a group of musicians arrived to set up for an evening gig. They were enthralled with the castle. The woman working there gave them a quick tour with a brief history and some facts about the castle. One fact of note, the woodwork on most of the main level, which words can't describe, is Cuban mahogany, which is either extinct, or just illegal to ship to the US. I didn't quite get that part of the explanation. I must have been making pinging noises with the hammer and chisel at the time. The band was an extremely curious bunch, wanting to see what I was up to, almost walking on fresh set mosaic. I almost had to go postal, fortunately, it was a cute little blond - that may have saved her life! After the close call, they were asking all types of tile questions, and me, being the walking encyclopedia of tile, tile products, tile history, and BS, was happy to oblige. I stepped out of construction worker mode, and put on my tour guide cap. Three of the members, Rachel, Brandi, & Sam, stood and gabbed for about 15 minutes. Brandi asked if the style of the house was Arts& Crafts, or Art Deco. I didn't think it was either, because the time the castle was built was before both of those eras. I thought it was Victorian, but then it dawned on me, it was Art Nouveau! We all agreed. Well time was dwindling, so I thought I had better clean up, and get out of the way before people started showing up for the performance. I got home and told my wife about the "fun" portion of my day, and realized I failed to get the name of the group that was performing. She looked it up, the name of the group is The Dixie Bee-liners. They sing a pretty cool rendition of blue-grass. There is definitely one song I've heard that's had radio play, and I don't really listen to that type of music. Check them out. All I've got to say is, I'm glad I didn't just go home and curl up in a ball after the rocky start to my day. I stuck with it, and it brightened up by the day's end. http://www.myspace.com/thedixiebeeliners

Hot for Teacher

Recently, a teacher at the high school I graduated from, was in the news. She was involved in an accident and lost her life. I did not have her as one of my teachers, though I knew who she was. This incident led to me thinking about my former mentors. Many a times, my wife and I have had discussions about former teachers, who influenced us, which ones were duds, who was the meanest, so on and so forth. As a young man speaking, there are certain teachers who may have caught the eye of their young pupil. I think, scratch that, I know my first crush on a teacher, was in the third grade. Ms. Koley. Sorry, I had to pause for a moment to relive those magical years. She was young, single, cute, and she played the guitar and sang in class. How cool was that? Then there was junior high! What a blurry time in a young man's life - girls too! I had a math teacher, Mrs. Hines, who was a head turner! For some reason, you really didn't mind getting in trouble in her class, and having her yell at you. Finally, she noticed me! By the time I got to high school (sometime in the 1900's), I think my teacher crushes wore off, and I finally took notice of the girls my age. Apparently, I've always been attracted to full sized Barbies, and not Skipper. My favorite teacher of all time though, drum roll please, was Ms. Stolen. She was my senior English teacher. No, there were no sparks there, trust me! She just made class fun and interesting. She was the epitome of the cool teacher that connected well with her students. I don't know what she was doing at the time, but there is a picture in our yearbook of Susan (she actually let us call her by her first name), putting on an astronaut uniform. She wasn't afraid to jump right in and have fun with the class. Not too long after graduation, she married and moved to Chicago to teach. If she found out I were blogging about her, I would probably blush. Anyway, kudos to my vote for teacher of the year, Susan!

Stressed

Sense stress is very important when reading something out loud that you've written, and want to convey the point you're trying to get across. If you take, for instance, anything I've written about "the dog", you need to apply a little deeper and louder tone to the key words, to get the correct understanding of what that piece of canine puts me thru. You have to be careful with sense stress though. If used in the wrong spot in the sentence, your thought may come off a little weird. If you were to say, "I always wear my seat belt.", that's just stating a fact. If you stress the word "always", you've given importance to the frequency of wearing your seat belt. If you were to stress the word "belt", it sounds a little masochistic. You should also be careful to not over use sense stress throughout your reading. This will leave your audience exhausted. When your done, they will have felt like they've just done 200 reps on the bench press. Too much of a good thing adds stress to sense stress.(Scratch your head after that sentence). Still , you don't want to speak in monotone either, unless you're reading a bedtime story to small children. You don't want to have to poke your audience with a stick after you've read them something. Reading in monotone can kill an exciting piece of writing, while using proper sense stress can sell a rather boring subject. So learn to moderate, because sense stress, in the wrong hands, can "stress out" the "sensitive", and cause either "sensory overload", or "sensory deprivation", depending on how you appeal to the "sense" of hearing. Whew! I may need to find a piece of bubble wrap after that run on:)

Anti Cold Play

Last night we went to a little get together at a friend's house. Quite a few of our friends were not there because they had tickets to see Cold Play at the Qwest Center. Those of us at the party did not go for the very reason we are not fans of Cold Play. So our theme for the party was Anti Cold Play. Oh, there was music, but nothing resembling Cold Play. When they first made their splash on the scene, I really didn't mind them. They were one of those bands that could be background music, and not make my teeth grind. But, the song "Yellow" became a huge hit, and next thing you know, every station that plays top 40, was spinning it every other song. "Yellow" was turning me red! I would like to thank those radio stations for turning me off to Over Play - I mean Cold Play. I like many different genres of music, but Cold Play falls into the genre of, "music Kevin doesn't like - a lot!". Then, to top off their arrogance, they charged $97.00 a ticket! You couldn't pay me $97.00 to sit through that, what some have labeled, "wuss rock". I'm afraid, if subjected to their music for that long, I would now have to sit down to pee. I understand my taste in music doesn't have to coincide with everybody, but I'm glad there was a support group last night who understand my feelings towards rock that doesn't rock. If you ask me, there is a classic case of "money for nothing, chicks for free". Where have I heard that phrase before? Oh yeah, a REAL rock n roll band!

Free Lunch

Yesterday, I happened to find myself in need of a tool I had been contemplating purchasing for quite awhile. So yesterday was going to be the happy, and of course, necessary purchase. Really, no man should be denied the pleasure of buying a new tool. So, I drove to a tool warehouse named "Tight On Tools". They have so many tools, I walk in wanting to purchase tools I don't need, nor will probably ever use. It can be a dangerous place with a blank check in your hands! While I was there, they were having a huge tool sale, with reps from all their different lines of tools on hand, to throw you a sales pitch. But one of the added bonuses was free lunch. Nothing extravagant - hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill, chips, and a cooler full of red dye #5 to drink. Now, I got there at 11:05, and the line to the food was already long. It's just amazing the people, mostly men who work with tools for a living, and a few who just like to own tools, who turned out for this event. There was a group of carpet layers (I know a carpet layer when I see one), who arrived right behind me in the chow line. The whole time they're talking about work, the jobs they're on, the tools they can't afford, and how good free lunch is going to taste. Myself and the "fuzzy side up" crew acquired our pro bono lunch and sat down at the same table to feed. Most of them finished before I did - I was too busy people watching, and looking for fellow workers I knew. They got up from the table and left. When I finished, I walked inside the store to embark on my tool quest. I realized the "ruggies" had dined and ditched. They were there for nothing other than the free lunch! I'm aware the mooch factor is quite high among floor covering people, but I think you should at least pretend to be interested in purchasing something. To top it all off, the tool warehouse was all out of the tool I needed. I guess the moral of the story is; Don't expect much from a free lunch, or, of the people who attend.

A Warm Embrace

"Brothers don't shake hands, brothers gotta hug". I know we should welcome a hug, but, I hate to admit, I'm a little selective as to who gets a squeeze from me. Occasionally, it's OK to hug a guy, maybe someone you haven't seen for a long time, but the hug should be measured in nano seconds, and hands should be placed well above the equator. I can't express enough how important these rules of engagement are. I'm not homophobic, everyone needs a hug, or to give a hug now and then. It has more to do with personal space. For a very brief moment, you've had to let your force shield down, and welcomed someone into your personal atmosphere. That person needs to be considerate, and not take liberties with your vulnerability. Now, if it's someone of the opposite sex, and as long as both parties want the affection, it's OK to embrace longer than the specified time restraint. If you expect to hug or be hugged on a regular basis, there needs to be attention given to personal hygiene. If you happen to find yourself less than fresh, either a handshake, along with a disclaimer about being sweaty, should be submitted prior to hugging. If the other party is alright with that situation, then the rules stated above apply. Special exceptions should be made regarding children under the age of 9, grandparents, and bears. You want your kids to hug you to reinforce the fact that you love them. Grandparents, pretty much, just seem to be above the law, and break all the rules when hugging. It may also involve a kiss, or multiple kisses, followed by a pinch on the cheek. Totally unacceptable for the rest of the population. Now that we've covered the rules for embracing, come give me a big man hug to start your day off a little skeezed out!

Turned 40

No, not me. That day has come and gone. I guess the internet turns 40 this year. So, 1969? was the first computer network. Twenty years later, the world wide web was launched. It's just amazing how far behind I've fallen, trying to keep up with technology. I'm surprised I still exist! My feelings concerning technology are not too different from Homer Simpson, when he said, "The internet? Is that thing still around?". I'm surprised it hasn't been replaced by newer technology by now. I have no clue what could replace such a resource as the internet, but for something in the field of technology to have a 40 year run is quite an accomplishment. This is obviously one of those subjects I know very little about, and feel quite uncomfortable talking about, because everyone who reads this knows more about the internet than I do. I wish it were something that interested me more, then I would be more inclined to research it. I guess it's best to leave the research and development to those who would be considered experts in the field, and I'll just sit back and wait until it becomes commonplace, and reap the benefits..... 20 years behind everyone else:)

Arachnophobia

Seems everyone is afraid of something. Fear is a learned experience. At one time in your life, you would have had a bad experience, or what seemed a bad experience in your mind, to develop a fear. Learned that in Psychology 101:) Yes, one of the few times I paid attention in school. Well, my family is no different. We each have our phobias. My oldest daughter is terrified of spiders. Maybe I shouldn't have let her watch Arachnophobia at such a young age. So, almost on a weekly basis, I'm called to a certain part of the house to save her from the man-eating spider. A couple of days ago, we had a rather large spider in our laundry room. It's probably the largest I've seen inside of our house. I walked into our laundry room to get either beer from the fridge, or meat from the freezer, and there stood the eight legged terrorist in the middle of the floor. He just stood there, unmovable, as if we were two gunfighters meeting in the middle of the street for the final gunfight. So I put on my Clint Eastwood face and spurs. I could hear that eerie gunfighter music and the crack of a bullwhip in the background. I wasn't about to let a spider stand between me and a cold one, so it didn't take long for me to realize, I was much bigger than he was, and I made my move. Long story short, I won the showdown. But, this spider was large enough, when I stepped on him, he actually made a crunching sound, yes, just like in the movies! I don't really fear spiders. Of course, I've never been face to face with a tarantula that wasn't on the other side of a piece of glass. Not sure what I would do in that situation. The one fear I am blessed with is keraunophobia. That would be the fear of lightning. Unlike spiders, I do not have much control over my environment during a lightning storm. So while the sky outside is igniting with protons, or electrons, or whatever ons it chooses, I'll be inside with my daughter, curled up with a good version of Charlotte's Web, sharing some curds and whey.

CWS

Looking forward to the CWS again this year. My oldest daughter and myself, enjoy going, or even sitting at home, watching on ESPN. Every year, we pick our favorite team to win it all. We usually end up picking another team throughout the series, because our original pick is eliminated early on. I really enjoy seeing a new team emerge occasionally, but, I enjoy some of the perennials also. Last year Fresno State was a giant killer! It was nice to see Tulane get the opportunity to play. I always enjoy Cal State Fullerton. A few years back, I was working on a remodel job, and the homeowners were hosting a family of their friends from California during the CWS. The family's son happened to be a pitcher for Cal State, and that year they won it all! Very exciting! I really enjoy the LSU fans. They're some of the most loyal fans in college sports. One of the recent years, LSU did not make it to the CWS, but some of the fans came to Omaha regardless. A few of the boosters were given 500 lbs. of shrimp from the governor, and told to go to the CWS, tailgate, and feed Omaha! What a class act! I must admit, I'll miss the CWS at Rosenblatt, but as long as the fans come, it's really the people, not the building, that make it the whole experience. Once again, I'm looking forward to another exciting 2 weeks of college baseball. If you see me at the ballpark, feel free to buy me a beer. Batter up!

Time and Money

Folks always seem to be planning for something, whether it be a vacation, a car, a house, new addition to the family - there always seems to be a demand on both time and money. Maybe it's just me, but I don't think so. My time and money never seem to meet in the middle. If I have the time, chances are, I'm not busy at work, thus, not producing an income. If I have the money, it's likely I've been working my "you know what" off, and only have time to catch a breather before it starts again tomorrow. This "time and money" theory, seems to be fleeting. I've tried to prove it "true" for many years now. I may have been close a couple of times, but I'm not really sure what I'm looking for when I reach that goal. Plus, there seems to be external forces constantly changing the rules of engagement, making this wonderful concept elusive. How do you know when enough time is stored in your time bank, and money in the actual bank, at the same moment? I guess that depends on the task at hand, plus the cost of the task at hand. Regardless, we continue to deceive ourselves in thinking that we actually own our time and money. Time actually owns us. Time spent cannot be refunded. And then there's money. That really isn't ours either. Oh, we worked our tail off for it, but if your picture isn't on it, it's not yours! If you want to actually own your money, you need to make your own. There might be some negative response from the government if you're trying to pass bills with your picture on it though. So now that I've depressed everyone whose been saving money and banking time, let's just ignore this conundrum, and pretend this little chat never happened:)

Androgynous

Before I get started, I'm going to apologize now and at the end of this post, for any and everything I write, just in case I step on someone's toes. But, humor me, and please help me out here. I was on the way to the bank the other day, just toodling along (yes, I said "toodling"), listening to the radio, minding my own business. There happens to be a bar across the street from the entrance of the bank parking lot, and I saw two people, middle aged, standing outside the establishment, talking to one another. So far, so good. One appeared to be a jovial looking man, heavy set (the typical "beer belly"), and the other, a woman with a ponytail and purse over the shoulder. You couldn't help but notice, because they were laughing at something apparently funny. Well, I pulled thru the ATM, bought some money, and pulled back out. After pulling thru the ATM, I was at a different perspective in proximity of the couple. I now had a profile view of the man?. The hair was pulled back in a ponytail also, and, disturbingly enough, there appeared to be boobs. Now, I realize that men are allowed to have ponytails. In fact, most men who don the "look", aren't folks I would try to enforce a "no ponytail on a man" ordinance. I am also aware that male obesity can produce "man boobs". Still, I would be in the wrong, to tell someone they had to lose weight just because I thought they should lose weight. I told you, I'm getting in deep here! Well, I pulled away from the bank, not disturbed, but unsatisfied without an answer. I wanted clear indication whether this person was a man or a woman! Even a subtle hint, such as lipstick, would have been enough of a clue to help me out. I realize this is selfish thinking, but how are the rest of mankind to address such a person? What is the politically correct salutation for introduction? I don't have time to stand around to see what bathroom they enter. This is really difficult because, normally, I'm not inclined to offend people I don't know personally. If I know you, you're "open season":) So pleeease help us (me) out here! Grab yourself while talking to others (indication of male), or put your hand on the side of your face while talking (indication of female). Just give us an inkling to avoid an awkward situation. I would like to take this time now, and apologize, apologize, apologize. If I totally offended you, please don't do bodily harm, just let me buy you a drink. Would you like a Cosmopolitan, or a shot of Tequila?

Super Computer

We all happen to own a super computer. It happens to be situated somewhere between our ears. It has been determined, in an average human lifetime, the human brain is used nowhere near capacity. The estimate is one tenth of one percent. To scale this for you, a football field is 100 yards. What is one percent of a football field? One yard, or 3 feet. Three feet is 36 inches. What is one tenth of 3 feet, or 36 inches? That would be 3.6 inches. So, in your average lifetime ( 72 years old for men, 74 years old for women), you use the first 3.6 inches of your brain's capacity, on a football field scale. Pretty pathetic if you ask me. I just can't believe the idiots roaming the earth:)

Happy Hour II

Don't have much time this morning, but last night was HHII. Another smashing sequel. Women had plans to go to an art show, men "watched" the kids while sitting around telling stories with a drink in hand. Beautiful evening, and very relaxing and enjoyable. Mission accomplished!

Lunch Box

Lunch boxes aren't as cool as when I was a kid. They just lack imagination. First of all, there are a million different designs, and most are made of like a nylon type material, forming a soft pack. Even the inside of the lunch box is departmentalized for the drink, the token fruit, and the departmentalized lunchable. How boring! Just prior to my generation, was the "old man" lunch box. Looked like a barn painted in solid black, red, or silver. You opened up the lid, and your thermos full of coffee fit inside the lid. They were durable metal boxes though. Every hard working man took one to his job, and it withstood time and abuse. Still boring! Then my generation of lunch boxes appeared on the scene:) Still a durable metal, but not that unattractive black barn. This was an actual box, which may or may not have had a matching thermos, with a theme on it! I think my first one had Hot Wheels, and I know I had a Peanuts comic strip box also. I remember friends having Happy Days, and Dukes of Hazzard lunch boxes, that I coveted. And inside the box was pretty much open space for whatever you wanted. You could cram as much food as possible (of course the apple ALWAYS smashed your peanut butter and jelly), along with elementary school contraband. I remember buying candy at the Kwik Shop, taking it to school, and selling it for a profit. Usually, Now & Laters, gum, Life Savers,... whatever small, black market, sweets I could sneak into school. When you got a new lunch box (some kids got a new one every year... a little jealous) you kept your old one for storage. Toys, rocks, snakes (real or plastic), or whatever your imagination could conjure up. If I remember correctly, my cousin even used his to sled down the hill in the snow! It just boggles my mind that these are such hot collectors' items now. I think lunch would be more enjoyable if we could resurrect the old lunch box. Everything these days is theme based. There's no lack of subject matter to throw on a lunch box. American Idol, are you interested?

What's in a Name

Have you always been satisfied with your name your parents gave you? Sometimes, it seems the parents didn't give much thought to picking a name for their children. I've often thought my first and last names don't really mesh. I have an Irish first name, and an Italian last name. With that combo, you could really get some killer heartburn. I wish my parents would have agreed on one nationality or the other. I'm obviously saddled with an Italian last name, so logically, an Italian first name would be appropriate. Nope, my mother insisted on a first name that isn't even translatable into Italian. In fact, there's not even a letter "K" in the Italian alphabet, so I can't even come close to an Italian name. And my last name contains the letter "Z". Try to find a good Irish first name that has a "Z" in it. If I were playing Scrabble, my word score would blow my opponents away! Some folks, I must say, are much worse off than myself. Their parents were either clueless to what can be construed as offensive, or they were just plain cruel to label their child with such a horrible burden. You know children can be rather ruthless when it comes to poking fun at each others' names. For instance, there's a young man in our neighborhood, whose first name is "Phenis". What in the world was in your crack pipe to want to name your child "Phenis"!? This kid is going to grow up, by far, the toughest kid in the neighborhood. And what about names that are phonetically stretched to the imagination? More vowels or syllables to a name do not make the child smarter or more popular, it just makes the parents look uneducated. It's alright if you want your child to be an individual, and not another face in the name pool, but please give it some thought (and not while you're on the toilet), before you hinder this innocent little person with a defect, such as a ridiculous name. If you have one of these names, I'm sorry. Just remember, you can rise above your parent's stupidity, and your name is what you make of it. For the record, Phenis seems to be a nice kid.

Teenagerism

I have to laugh, there's a teenage boy that lives across the street from me. You can just tell he's going thru that awkward stage of his life. He really likes to skateboard, and has been doing it religiously for about the past 4 or 5 years. It's been rather amusing because he just doesn't seem to get any better. There are a few moves and tricks he's picked up, but overall, he still hasn't mastered the stuff he was attempting 3 years ago. Once in awhile, I catch myself watching him, because I grew up with a skateboard. I'm really not one to criticize, the tricks the kids are pulling off now, were not even in existence when I was in my boarding years. Lately, his friends come over, and we'll have about 4 or 5 awkward, zit faced, smelly feet, voice cracking, teenage boys, in front of our house all practicing the same moves, and failing miserably. It's fun to watch, and I don't have the heart to go out there and tell them they shouldn't quit their day job. They don't cause any trouble, and they seem to be respectful of others property. Occasionally, one them will tackle another in the grass and give him a kidney shot, but that's just that male bonding thing going on, in its early formative stages. Well, just this year, the boy across the street has acquired a drum set. So his little group of merry skateboarders will come over, he'll open up the garage door, and bang on the drums for awhile, before they all take their positions in the street. (Remember, a teenage boy's attention span is only about as long as this sentence.) Once again, no harm, he's actually a better drummer than he is a skater. Every once in awhile, you here him break out into "angry white boy" lyrics, screaming unintelligible words into a cheap microphone. It's all rather amusing, and who knows, someday he could be in a famous band. It's just rather refreshing to see young boys outside moving around, goofing around, getting some sunshine, figuring out the pecking order within the pack, and not holed up in their basement for 20 hours a day, playing video games, and the only interaction they have is with their computer with someone else online. So, if you have this scenario in your neighborhood, cut the boys some slack if they're being a little loud, or if they accidently step on the grass. They could be gang bangin' or lighting your grass on fire! These years are fleeting, and it'll all pass quickly until the next generation of young men take that step towards manhood.

Penny Farthing

Any idea what a penny farthing is? It happens to be a bicycle. You've probably seen the old bicycles with the big, huge wheel in the front, and the smaller one in the back. That is a penny farthing. It was originally built by a Frenchman, but really became popular in England. The bicycle received its name from two English coins, the penny, and the farthing, or quarter penny. The front wheel was built rather large so you could get more speed from a single geared bicycle. Safety wasn't really a concern, because it wasn't uncommon to do a "header" from your perch on one of these bikes. Hitting a pothole, or having to come to an abrupt stop, usually launched you over the handlebars. These bicycles were rather difficult to master, and it was said, these bicycles were meant only for strong, young men. Well, my whole reason for rambling on about bicycles, and the history lesson, was to inform the world of the news about my daughter learning to ride her bike today! It was glorious! She just wasn't getting it for so long, it was rather frustrating for me and her. Then, she had a couple of moments where she rode aways without my help. I would stop, and when she finally stopped, she realized  there was quite a distance between her and myself. All she needed was a little taste of success and I knew she would hurdle it. She has no idea who the Wright brothers were, but it had to be that kind of moment when you finally accomplish some monumental task, that has failed time and again, and then you're on top of the world! And as a parent, you're just as ecstatic, because you hate to see your child struggle and fail over and over. But, I guess that's what growing up is all about. She's not 21 yet, so I can't take her out for a drink, but we are going to have a celebratory milk and graham crackers. 

Barguments

Here's a nice addition to anyone's happy hour.Blue Ribbon General Store: A Modern General Store: Barguments

Six Legged Arthropod

The one drawback for this time of the year is insects. Bugs don't bother me too much. It's mostly the biting ones that are a source of irritation, plus a source of an occasional case of malaria. There's nothing quite as fun as being bit in the back of the leg, while you're holding something heavy, or while you're talking to someone, have an unidentified flying object zoom up your nose. I understand the purpose of most insects, but what about mosquitos or gnats? Flies actually do serve an important purpose, so I'm going to cut them some slack. Even though they fly into the computer screen while I'm typing, I'm not going to chase him down with the fly swatter... just yet. Not only are they nature's little waste management operators, but they also pollenate more than bees. You could say, "they're busy as bees". And for obvious reasons, I don't mind bees at all. Wasps and hornets, on the other hand, outside of scaring everyone in the car while driving, what purpose do they have? The dragonfly happens to be our friend. They eat mosquitos, but not nearly enough. I'm OK with ants, as long as they remain outdoor pets. Butterflies, yes, moths, no. I was wondering, if you drove from New York to California, this time of the year, and never stopped to wash your windshield, what kind of collage you would have? You know, other cultures eat insects. Maybe there's an over abundance of mosquitos because we're neglecting one of the four food groups. Chase it with a beer!