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.