Free Therapy

Ok, just lie back and tell me all about it. I'm not really a therapist, but let me prescribe something for you. Everyone has problems or issues to deal with. Occasionally, we all need someone to talk, cry, or vent to. It appears I would be that person. Guess that's part of being a friend. When you take on the role of becoming a chum, a pal, a sidekick, amateur therapist comes along with the territory. Sadly, some folks don't have too many friends, so they rely on their hairdresser, barber, or bartender. I guess people find me approachable. Outside of my wife, I'm not sure who my free therapist is. I come home from work and unload a whole days worth circus activities performed by clowns, posing as normal people. I don't blow until she asks me though. Of course, my advice is always free to family, friends, and strangers (I think that covers everyone), but, I just hope someday when I come calling for free advice, it's without strings attached. At the time I spew forth my limited knowledge of various subjects, the advice I give seems rather sound... to me anyway. So even if I give advice that doesn't turn out so well for the patient, please keep in mind, it was free. What do you expect for free? And, I'm not licensed with a degree to treat people with mental or emotional problems. So consider the source. I WILL have a couple of beers with you though. That always seems to help me formulate 'reasonable' answers to your problems.

Where Did It Go?

Monday is the first of September. That means YOUR 2009 year is three quarters of the way through, in the history books. I personally love fall - it's my favorite time of the year, but summer never really happened. There were a couple of hot days, but not the type of day you could fry an egg on the sidewalk. August should be one of the most miserable months here in the great plains, and I rather enjoyed it. I really have no complaints, other than not being able to complain about the weather. So far, this year has been a year of unrest. The economy is trying to jump start itself, the public is a bit skeptical, not pushing the button on the defibrillator, banks are greedy, whiny, spoiled little brats, withholding our money from the public, to help out average joe, car makers are vying for the 'bottom of the barrel' award, celebrities and politicians are dropping like flies, and I have started a blog. What is going on! So, we have roughly 3 - 4 more months to figure this out, so our 2010 (start of a new decade) gets shoved out of the nest, with feathers on it's wings, to attempt flight. Perhaps summer will decide to arrive in this time frame. Highly unlikely, but the way things are going lately, who knows? My accomplishments for 2009 were nothing to really brag about. Outside of a couple of medical bills and some back taxes, I didn't create any new debt. So I felt I did my part to stagnate the economy. All year long, I kept thinking, "Once I get over this hump", but my personal 'hump' appears to be coated with butter, and I'm barefoot. So my three quarters of the year have been spent regaining my footing. I'm hoping to reach the pinnacle of my buttered hump by the end of this year, so I can start fresh next year... with a new, lower cholesterol butter alternative hump. You know, I'm not getting any younger, I've got to be careful what I put my foot in! My personal goal for the next year, and following year, is to pay down, or off my revolving debt. I would love to just have a house payment and utilities. This way, I could pay for future purchases outright. I know I'm not doing my part to stimulate the economy now, but in the future I'll be helping out. Debt is the problem with the current state of affairs for most individuals. By paying off that debt, and becoming freed up financially, we all will be able to breathe a little easier, and the banks will be begging us to take a loan out. Instead of creditors calling us for a late payment, beggars will be calling us for an interest free loan. So maybe we have to adjust our thinking, finish out 2009 going forward, and completely change the complexion of 2010. It's going to be here sooner than you realize! Maybe summer will tag along.

Naughty Words

We try, as parents, to teach our children to use proper English. When they say 'aint', we tell them, 'is not'. Then there's the foul language. This is strictly off limits! Of course, adults occasionally slip up and let a few sentence enhancers color their speech, but children using foul language, especially when they know what they're saying, is really very sad. For some reason, kids seem to figure out these words on their own. My wife and I are very conscious about what we say around our children, and for some unknown reason, they still pick it up around the age of 4 or 5. I guess this way they're ready to start school. If you stop and think about it though, who first decided these words were bad? What determined a particular word meant what it means today? Has it always meant that? Why couldn't the word 'damn', mean pony or rainbow? Who determines these things? Then there's the F word. Don't worry, I have control of my keyboard. I won't let that one slip. If you've seen me type, there's no way I could accidentally type that word and not know what I'm typing. The history of that word is unclear. Some think it's one those..... ACRONYMS that I soooo love, describing a law concerning rape. Many languages, centuries ago, had similar words describing basically the same thing. So in conclusion, it's still a good idea to teach our children right from wrong, even though they're going to learn anyways. It probably helps train their conscience. And please be careful when learning a new language. You don't want to make your waitress blush when ordering 'F'rench 'F'ries.

Human Contact

As much as a man would hate to admit it, everyone needs human contact. Even aliens! Lately, I've wanted to be by myself. I'm not irritable, or PMSing, or anything like that. Just some time to myself. I haven't wanted to blog or even get the mail (mailbox or computer). I've had conversations out of necessity or politeness, but I didn't feel the need to talk to anyone, talk about anyone, have anyone talk to me, have anyone talk about me, just a little me time. Solitary confinement even sounded a little appealing. But I have quickly come to the realization that folks aren't going to leave me alone. So the most effective way to ward off the, what seems to be constant pestering, is to 'answer' them. I've tried to limit my words though. I think I can answer that question in eight words. That question is completely illogical (retarded), should I waste my allotted words for the day, or just smile and walk away? I will say, I am coming out of my cocoon. No one has received a good old fashioned scolding lately. It may be time to employ some words and add a little volume. It's funny how that works - I speak rather harshly and loud, then nobody wants to talk to me. Quiet Kevin gets blah, blah, blah, - talkative, colorful vocabulary gets silence. Well, it's about time to bring this rambling to an end, and go convey my pent up thoughts to "everyone one I meet, while walking down the street". I figured a quote from Sesame Street should put me in the right frame of mind!

Oh, Wise Guy, Eh?

I know it's rather irritating when having to deal with somebody giving you a bad time, but when it's your turn to dish out the stuff, it sure is amusing! Today, I'm strolling through Menards, trying to 'save more money at Menards', and as I'm walking by an employee, he appeared rather puzzled, as if he were looking for something. The urge to be a smart ass overcame me and I opened my mouth to give him a zinger. I asked, "Can I help you find something today"? Then I chuckled and he found it amusing also. My intentions were for a laugh, not to be mean, and I accomplished what I meant to. When those moments flash in front of you, you have to seize them, otherwise you've missed a golden opportunity!

Family Reunion 2009

Well, another year camping with family is in the history books. Weather was amazing. I hope everybody got outside and did something over the weekend. Just too beautiful to sit indoors, behind a computer, wasting time:) I wish we all had more time together, but back to the harsh reality. I'm pretty sure the kids had a good time. We were the first to arrive, and when the rest of the traveling nomads arrived, the kids found each other, took a couple of seconds to reconnect, and were GONE! They resurfaced a few times when their little bellies caught up with the rest of their perpetual motion bodies, to refuel for another round of running, climbing, laughing, screaming, whatever happened to be the 'fun' thing to do at the time. Pretty sure the adults were enjoying themselves also. Soon after getting camp set, we nonchalantly started to consume park contraband. We drank beer. And a healthy portion at that! Beer seems to help big people relax and put the stresses of life away for awhile. Saturday was a fun filled day. One of my cousin's longtime friend came out to enjoy our controlled chaos and share in the madness. After supper, we had an awards ceremony with different categories. I assigned myself sole judge of the awards, and I tried to include every family in on the awards. There were ten categories, so someone was not going to win, but there were parting consolation prizes for everyone who happens to claim to be attached to the family. I was surprised at how well this event was supported. I thought everyone would just be nice and humor the cousin that thinks this is a good idea, but it appeared to be enjoyed, especially by the young uns'. We handed out little gag gifts along with some candy at the end. Two of the kids were so excited about winning, they bombarded me with new categories for next year's award show, for the rest of the evening. Of course, the categories were things they would apparently win, hands down. Those two tied for the "dirtiest and grubbiest camper" award, and were so thrilled when they received their prize, consisting of a bar of soap and wash cloth. The following day, they were going to make sure they sealed the deal, by telling me they were going to get dirty again today. Oh, I almost forgot one of the most memorable events. My youngest cousin and I, outlasted the rest of the family that night, and stayed up well past our bedtime, sitting around the fire, sipping our contraband, and catching up. Mid conversation, I happen to catch some movement under the picnic table, about ten feet away. At first, it looked like a small dog, but upon further examination, it happens to be a skunk! We tried shooing him, and that didn't really work. I picked up a beer can and tossed it next to him, thinking that would scare him away. No, that just put him on alert, with his tail in the air. We all know what that means! He then moseyed on over to a bag of trash laying on the ground, crawled inside, enjoyed a little family reunion food, and then wandered off. I hope the peppers gave him heartburn, as it did me. I just want to know who invited him. I am pleased to see my family partake of the reunion event. In a stressful economic time, this is a cheap form of entertainment for all. I hope all look forward to next year. See ya campers!

See Ya!

I'm working half a day, then off to the great outdoors! We'll be back after another word from our sponsor.

It's Happening!

Do you notice this time of the year, the cicadas are humming their evening drone? I love that noise. It's the indication that summer's dwindling and fall is approaching, my favorite season of the year. If you listen real close, and concentrate, it sounds like they are saying, "Go Big Red". That's why this is my favorite season, football and autumn. Even the cicadas are wearing red with little cornhead hats:) I've caught a few glimpses of some preseason games, though I'm not a huge pro football fan, it sets the tone for things to come. Heck, I even sat and watched part of a Disney show with my youngest daughter, just because there was a couple of scenes where a girl was playing football on a junior high team. Hey, football is football, stop laughing. So, I've been reading every article I can find, and watching the news for the latest updates and progress of the Husker squad. I always anticipate what the year is going to bring, and try to remain optimistic. Even during the lean years, preseason discussions with friends and family always remained upbeat. This year is no different. Even if we don't win the Big 12 North title, as many are predicting, I love what has become of this team, and especially the coaching staff. I am somewhat worried about the fact we have some rather talented coaches at key positions, and other teams are going to come knocking, with offers of the moon. I do long for the day of continuity among the coaching staff, where coaches were hired and then retired... to Nebraska pastures, not 'greener' pastures. Regardless, it seems to be congealing in Lincoln. I can't wait to have the Sunday morning paper with the game breakdown, stats, highlights of plays or players that stood out, just helps feed my addiction. I've gone several months now, on the wagon, it's now time to fall off the wagon, and get on the bandwagon! You can respond if you like, but not on Saturdays during the game. GBR. I think that's an acronym for Go Big Red!

Band of Gypsies

The weekend is fast approaching, and I'm planning on a good time spent camping with family at Mahoney! In the past, we've always rented cabins at Platte River State Park, but this year we're all givin' it our best boy scout effort, and camping in either tents or campers. We have consecutive lots reserved and plan on making a constant and even din above the rest of the campground. Hope we don't encounter the wrath of Mr. Park Ranger. If he harshes my gig too much, I may have to sic, a dozen or so children on him. So far, the forecast looks good, because I hate being stuck inside drinking beer, when the proper camping experience is to drink in the great outdoors (hidden in plain sight, of course). For some unknown reason, beer just goes down easier when sitting around a camp, telling tall tales. This could be my opportunity to acquire a government grant, to observe and study this mysterious phenomenon. I'm sure I would have a difficult time just observing, and not partaking. We've planned some fun things for kids and adults, none of which is illegal. Oh yeah, can't forget the hounds. It would be a riot to let them off leash and run throughout the park as a pack of wild dogs! And then there's the food! I'm proud of my family for appreciating a good meal. There's always plenty to eat at every given minute of the whole weekend. In fact, there's so much food, even the tapeworms are engorged from gluttony! There really isn't a moment where my stomach feels relaxed and not as hard as a pumpkin. We get a little carried away. It would be interesting to see how other campers react to all of us. I wish I were the camp reporter, asking questions and taking interviews, on the band of gypsies that rolled in over the weekend, just in time to disturb the serenity and tranquility of nature. I'm almost 100% sure I'll have some blog stew to serve up:) I can't wait to find out what a bear (or the pope) really does in the woods! Keep ya' posted if I make it out alive!

Save Those Pennies

I'm such a nerd. Did you see, the US mint is putting out a new style of penny? We've had the same penny design since 1959. I'm somewhat of an amateur coin collector (or at least, used to be). I used to have a pretty decent coin collection growing up. Don't ask what happened to it, because I'm not sure. But I still have a few coins from my childhood collection, fortunately, some of the more valuable ones. Coins and paper money have always intrigued me. It's really a pattern of history if you think about it. I tried to get my daughter interested when they produced the state quarters, but she lost interest about half way thru. So it seems every fifty years is the pattern to follow for new pennies. The previous design, the wheat penny, was first coined in 1909. If you possess one of those, sell it and take about a year off from work. If it has the designers initials, V.D.B., enjoy an additional two years of relaxing. I read something a few years ago, and I don't know if this is still true, but the cost to produce the penny has exceeded the value of the coin. Typical America, upside down again. It was costing 1.2 cents to produce a penny. We could always outsource it to China. Foreign country producing our money for us, sounds like an unstable situation made in heaven. Besides, there would probably be no trace of copper in the penny, just lead based copper paint. Regardless, the penny with the Lincoln Memorial on the back (our current penny), could be collectible someday. Side point, did you know there are two Abraham Lincolns on the current penny? I'm sure everyone knows this. Obviously on the front, but on the back, in the middle of the Lincoln Memorial, there is the tiniest representation of a statue. That is the statue of Abe. 1.2 cents for your thoughts?

Dog Pile

Remembering playing that as a kid? This has nothing to do with the childhood memories that we fondly treasure. I'm talking about the dog! I am the not so proud owner of probably the stupidest canine alive. Somehow our paths crossed, I was coerced during a weak moment in my life, and ended up with a retarded pooping machine, wearing fur pants! Most dogs (in my experience), have a designated area they prefer to take care of their personal business, usually not in an area where they , or their humans congregate. Apparently, my dog, Cooper the Mighty Pooper, wasn't present when that memo was read. He pollutes the yard in places I wouldn't think are physically possible to do the business. Right at the very base of a tree, underneath the swing on the swing set. Was he climbing the tree and happen to lose control of his bowels? Was he laying on his stomach under the swing, and someone squeeze him like a tube of toothpaste? Last night, a few people were over, and our dog feels that visitors are present for his pleasure only. He will relentlessly pester you for attention until you leave. He is socially retarded, and the more we work with him, the more obnoxious he seems to get. Well, he dropped the mother lode last night, just a couple of feet from our patio, right in the pathway into the yard. He was being his usual self, so I get up to grab him and take him inside. You guessed it. I felt I was knee deep. This, of course , endears me to the dog even more. I guess I'm just relieved it was myself and not a guest. After owning this dog for a couple of years now, I'm sure ANY dog in the future will seem like a 'best of show' dog. I think if there were some type of scale, from 1 to 10, to measure a dog's overall performance, our piece of canine would be lingering around the -14 area. I guess I should look at the positives... wait a minute, I'm still thinking.

Bachelor

Well, the wife went out of town this weekend, and I appear to be in a state of bachelorhood for two days. I do still have kids to watch, so I'm not totally alone. The state of finding yourself as a bachelor for a couple of days is always eagerly anticipated. When it finally gets here, I'm somewhat at a loss as to what to do. Poor planning on my part, is definitely the problem. My wife usually informs me well in advance, and I conveniently suffer memory loss until about twelve hours before she is to depart. Then I act like she just sprung this on me. Fortunately, she has the insight to make a succinct honey do list, so I'm not just wandering around in a circle all weekend. That would be clockwise, since I'm right handed. Once she left for four days, and I was determined to conquer the state of singleness I found myself in. I was focused on the task at hand, made sure dishes were done, kept the house picked up, I even attempted to make the bed every morning! I was so proud of myself for accomplishing this, I even told my wife on the phone one evening, that things were running smoothly. Then the last day arrives! I'm still alive, the house is still standing, I'm not running from the law,... I did it! OOOPS, I totally blanked on laundry, and now I have no clean underwear. How did this happen? Why didn't she foresee this dilemma? Doesn't she realize I've been in captivity for almost half of my life, that I may not survive left on my own? I'm pretty sure the reason I forgot laundry, is I'm really not allowed in the laundry room. My wife seems to have a great unfounded? fear of me operating the washing machine. I'm a guy, how hard can it be? Guys were meant to operate heavy equipment. I don't need instructions, just a couple of helpful pointers, and the rest comes instinctively,... because I'm a man... wearing pink clothes:)

Good Design

I worked in a house within the past two years, off and on, and yesterday was the finale of it all. They threw a 'wrap party' for everyone who had their hand in creating their vision. It's not too often I get to see the finished project, but I'm usually toward the tail end of a project, so I do get a pretty good visual of what the outcome will be. It's just a pleasure to see the finished space with furniture and the homeowner's belongings to make the house feel like a home. This particular remodel involved a time capsuled house in Tomlinson Woods, I believe built in the 70's or 80's. Definitely tired, and not a very good flow of the layout. The improvements were AMAZING! Every little detail seemed to be addressed, and then designed, and came up with a solution. The house is definitely contemporary, but not institutional, and great design features, including 'green' building materials and energy saving solutions. Some noted contemporary architecture blogged about previously, is just a haphazard approach at attempting mediocre design. Not the case here. The project moved along at what some would consider a snail's pace (two and a half years), but the craftsmanship more than made up for it. It was a project that was a joy to work on, because the architect's design, and the builder's attention and insistence on detail, not deadlines, made for an exciting, yet challenging project. The homeowners are probably the most patient and understanding people on the planet. I could see 99.5% of the rest of the population becoming frustrated with time, and either firing the contractor, or eliminating design features, to push the construction forward. I'm glad they didn't consider either. I've worked on numerous projects over the years, but, to date, this one gets the blue ribbon. Kudos to everyone involved!

Reunion

I was talking to a guy yesterday about his weekend plans. He mentioned he was going to his high school class reunion this weekend in Des Moines. It's been 40 years since he graduated, and immediately he went into reminisce mode. He started telling me of his high school chums he hung out with, and got into trouble with, smoked cigarettes with, etc. etc. He mentioned there had been five deaths in his class of four hundred, since graduation. There was somewhat of a twinkle in his eye when remembering the best looking girl in school. There was a slight pause and stare into space, when he talked about her beautiful red hair. He went on for quite some time about his high school years, and fortunately, I was finished with work for the day, so I sat back, and humored him by taking in the nostalgia. This same guy is also a graduate of Drake University, and went to Creighton for a short stint. But I've observed the fact that he prefers to relive the high school days, rather than college. For some reason, it's been my experience with talking to folks, that they seem to favor high school days over college days. Now I had about two years of college, and there were a couple of memorable (drunken) moments, but high school was , by far, much more noteworthy in my life than college. I'm sure some have had different experiences, but in my observation, high school had a much greater impact on people's lives. It must be because those are such formative years, you seem to be figuring out your blueprint for life, and along the way, you just so happen to make friends for life, and are influenced greatly by teachers. It's definitely a time for coming of age. The incredibly STUPID things that were accomplished, and yet we somehow lived to tell about it, are something to start a blog about. A confusing age, yet so enlightening to the naivety of a freshman. A time of a making a name for yourself as a senior, and a time for recognizing the pecking order for juniors and sophomores. There are so many good memories, a few bad, and even more forgotten, that if I could choose an era to relive, that would be it, but I don't care to relive it. I want to leave it just as it is.

Sazitsa

I hate to brag, OK, I actually like to brag about my Italian sausage. My grandparents always referred to it as 'sazitsa', which, I assume is Italian for 'sausage'. For the last couple of years, my aunt and myself have undertaken the Italian sausage making process. I, like any other hard headed, egotistical, dego, refuse to give out my secret recipe, for fear it will be plagiarized and someone else take credit for something I've plagiarized and have taken credit. Actually, I received the recipe from a 96 year old Italian woman, whose relatives have been in the restaurant business for some time. I then looked at a recipe in a book from an established sausage maker, and stole one ingredient to add to my sausage. One small detail I do while grinding and stuffing, makes a huge difference in the texture of the sausage. You wouldn't think texture would be a big deal, but amazingly enough, it makes my sausage more enjoyable than any I've had. There are a couple of friends I have allowed to come help make sausage with me, but the recipe doesn't leave my house. I send them home with their pockets bulging of the magical tubular meat, in return for their free labor. Keep in mind though, it's a labor of love. I enjoy the whole process of making, and the noises of satisfaction while family and friends indulge. During the process, I try to have a beer or two, to help keep it from feeling like work. Nothing quite like imbibing, playing with sharp knives, and pig intestines! Now keep in mind, no Italian sausage is complete without a healthy topping of peppers. The peppers are almost as important as the meat, and are multisidedishable. Don't bother looking that word up, it's totally fabricated:) There's only one person I've given the pepper recipe to, and he now lives in Arizona. Your welcome, Ben. The pepper recipe came directly from my grandmother, with NO alterations, which I believe came directly from her mother-in-law. It's by far, hands down, the best peppers you will ever lay across your taste buds! I must say, I truly appreciate the fact I grew up in an ethnic household, not to lord it over anyone, but because the food that I grew up on tasted so delicious, there isn't much I don't like. In the words of chef Mario Batali, "There are two kinds of people in the world, those who are Italian, and those who want to be"! Oh, and by the way, the 'I', in Italain is a short "i", not a long one, when pronouncing Italian. We're from Italy, NOT Eyetaly!

Peanut Gallery

Boy is this a good one! Went to the baseball game with my youngest daughter tonight. She earned free tickets thru the summer reading club at the library. I thought, since the tickets were free, I would spend the money to upgrade to the box seats, and sit with a better class of losers. Apparently someone let a family from the lower caste in amongst the box seats. I'm not sure where to begin. Let's start with noise level and that will segway nicely into weight problems. This 'woman' had the the biggest mouth of any I've seen yet. I guess it's to announce her presence, and draw attention to her slightly plus size. She happened to be sitting next to her 'Mini Me', which I'm assuming was her little? sister. Pretty sure it was her sister, since they had the same short, sweaty, haircut, and oddly shaped body, just 30 or so sizes smaller. It would appear she also let her husband out of the house for the first time this summer. He looked like a bulldog with a leprechaun body. The fact that he was wearing a forest green ball cap, matching shirt, and matching velcro tennis shoes just sealed the deal for me - he truly was a leprechaun! Back to the woman. She was barking orders to her little green man slave all evening. You could tell, she's queen of HER cul-de-sac! She not only yelled each player's name when he came to bat, but she also sang along, at the top of her lungs, every little snippet of a song that was played, and she continued to sing after the music had stopped! Maybe someone told her this was American Idol tryouts? Not only was she a singer, but a choreographer also. Every song was accompanied by a little dance that her and her DNA replica must have practiced for hours at home, to perform for us all tonight. She was up out of her seat so much, that someone from about six rows behind yelled, "Sit your ASS down"! Did I mention the ball game was sponsored by one of the Omaha mega churches? Obviously their parishioners don't appreciate two tons of disco, gettin' their groove on to, "Shake Your Booty", by KC and the Sunshine Band. We ended up the evening with YMCA. Perfect encore for the Fifth and Sixth, and maybe the Seventh and Eighth Dimensions. What's totally amazing is, I don't believe these two were drinking alcohol. I've heard of people like this, but thought it was old wives' tales. They must have spent about $200 in grocery money though. She had the little bulldog leprechaun man running to the concessions, what seemed like every inning, to get nachos, two funnel cakes, several sodas, and maybe a token pretzel, hot dog, and popcorn. Gotta keep those calories up while watching a baseball game! Please keep in mind, I'm not repulsed by folks who have a weight problem. I'm pushing maximum capacity on occasion myself. But why do people have to draw attention to themselves? They can be gods or goddesses, and if their acting like asses or she-asses, I'm still repulsed. Add 250 more pounds, and I'm even more repulsed, because there's more TO repulse. I guess I have a slight problem with people watching, and observing bizarre behavior. I did watch the game though. Royals won 8 - 4. Of course they did, they had "God" sponsoring their game tonight! They were playing the Las Vegas 51's. Everyone knows, anyone from Vegas is a sinner, and they didn't stand a chance:) The final redeeming factor of the whole peanut gallery baseball game, was the fireworks. I still get excited for fireworks!

HHIV

Not HIV, but HHIV. Yes, one of those stupid acronyms for Happy Hour IV tonight. I'm glad it rained last night, (yes and no) the yard needed it, but happy hour could be a little humid. The fact that it's going to reach 95 today should help,... the tomatoes ripen, but HHIV could be a little sweaty. Maybe we could spray each down with eucalyptus, sit around in towels and bath robes, and call it Spa Nite!

Cheese

Did you see that big ball of cheese in the sky last night? WOW! For some reason it looked clearer than I've ever seen it. You could almost see what looked like the topography of the moon's surface, it was so clear. Of course, I happened to be driving home last night about 10 PM, and I'm trying to look at the moon and drive at the same time. I'm thinking to myself, I'm going to get pulled over for swerving just because the moon was so captivating. How do I explain that to a police officer? If I tell him the truth, is he going to write me off as a hopeless romantic, or am I going to walk the line and do my abc's backwards? Then to top it off, is he and other officers going to make fun of me, along with getting a traffic ticket after realizing I haven't been drinking? All that for looking at the moon. Or do I lie, and just say "I was practicing my drunk driving skills", just to avoid the embarrassment? Probably better to just tell the truth, take the ribbing, eat some humble pie, and try not to cry in front of the officer.

Zits

I thought I was done with puberty! An occasional zit once every six months I can deal with, but two within a week apart? Am I going thru my second teenage awkward metamorphosis? My voice is going to start cracking, sweaty armpits, smelly feet, nervously notice the opposite sex and then quickly look away. I don't understand what girls see in boys. I would say, one of my most embarrassing moments as a teenager, was senior prom week. I developed a zit right in the middle of my forehead. This was no ordinary size zit you can just squeeze and move on with life, no, it took two people on either size, pushy with all their might! It was the kind that starts as a red spot and builds throughout the week. It's sore and somewhat burns when you touch it. So, on my prom night, I looked like one of those women from India, with the big red dot on their forehead. I even had the mustache to go along with it. All I could think of is, exploding cottage cheese out of the mouth of John Belushi, in ANIMAL HOUSE. Talk about self conscious. Well, I ended up living thru it, and I'm sure I'll make it thru this ordeal. All you zitheads out there have my sympathy... until my skin clears up:)

What Weekend?

Monday is here at last! Can you tell the enthusiasm/sarcasm in my typing? Ended up working all weekend and finished the week with about 66 hours. I've been installing flagstone. The pieces are heavy and dirty, they come straight from the quarry. By the end of the day, you really feel it in your lower back. You're on your knees and have to cantilever up to 50 lb. pieces in front of you, to set them in place without boogering (yes boogering :) the previous piece. If it doesn't fit flush with the piece next to it, that can be a potential tripping hazard, and you pull the piece back out to build it up to the correct height. Just about every muscle in my body aches from a week and a half of this. I have, optimistically, about another week. This is definitely making me feel my age. Ten years ago, I would have considered this a personal training program for the iron man contest. Now, I hope to just make it to the weekend. Oh yeah, the weekend came and gone without me noticing. So Monday really means nothing in the grand planning schedule of things. Just another day, but with the added benefits of everyone else coming off of a fun relaxing weekend, ready to crack the whip and get some phone calls made to Kevin, while he hovers 50 lb. rocks with one hand, and discusses potential architect screw ups on the phone, with the other hand. Perhaps I should start cracking the whip, and make high maintenance people work right along side of me, hour for hour. They may think twice before calling me, crying about the fact they can't change the look of something they've drawn, after us in 3-D land, have made it concrete. I love that quality time spent on the phone, with some Bozo, with a degree in drawing lines, explaining why something they've designed on paper doesn't work in real life. They're frustrated because they don't get their way, and I'm frustrated because I could have set two 50 lb. pieces in the time they required for a factual, but unsatisfying answer. Ah yes, Monday, just another day in paradise. Makes you look forward to happy hour!

PC

Hmmm. Am I thinking about the term 'personal computer', or the term 'politically correct'? My personal computer has never been very personal, for me at least. It's like a stubborn little five year old. I ask it to do something (even simple), and it either refuses, or it doesn't listen to me screaming at it, and does something else! I don't even know how to discipline it when it acts up. It just sits there in total defiance, knowing it probably takes one little command, or key stroke, or point and click, and I will be rewarded handsomely. Instead of 'it' working for me, I feel I'm working for 'it'. It is extremely frustrating to have an ongoing love/hate relationship with an inanimate object. On to the 'politically correct' term. Here's another problem I face. Mankind, in general, has become so sensitive, and gets their feelings hurt over the slightest, most innocent gestures or comments, that you cannot speak intelligibly, or in complete sentences, in public. These days, how do you deliver a public discourse without a team of moderators? You could be speaking about something as noncontroversial as, say, animal control, and find your tit in a wringer by the time you're done! Animals need to be controlled, not inhumanely, but for the safety of the public and the animal. I've got a feeling PETA is probably going to TP my house, but only with unbleached toilet paper, because a bird could accidentally use it for nest constructing materials. Two politically incorrect terms I personally use, and use to describe people of politics, or nonpolitical figures, either in a correct setting, or in an incorrect light, are the words 'retarded' and 'gay'. The politically correct 'hate mail' should be flowing in any moment! If some politician says or does something to warrant negative public attention, that's 'retarded'. They have personally held back, or delayed progress of public progression. Now I ask, is that incorrect usage of the term? The mentally handicapped should not feel threatened by me, I mean them no ill will, but if someone is making decisions for the community as a whole, and happens to be retarding progress, that could affect the mentally challenged community negatively as well. We could have a politically incorrect riot on our hands! The term 'gay' when used inderogatorily correct, shouldn't be offensive, but, rather amusing. If the homosexual community takes offense, then maybe we can rephrase the term to say, ' that's so homo'. Yeah, that sounds better! Not! Maybe they could fire back with, 'that's incredibly hetero, or, 'can you believe how straight that is?' OOOH, feel the burn! So, I'm not a big fan of acronyms or abbreviations anyway, and this particular one just seems to get me in trouble no matter how I slice it. It all boils down to, my personal computer is so retarded, and it would just be 'gay' on my part to pretend to be PC.

African Thunderstorm

Here's something pretty cool you all might enjoy. Click on the title.