Fan Club

While walking thru Lowe's today, I passed a man who looked remotely familiar, but common enough, he could have been anyone. As we passed, he said, "Hi, Kevin". I quickly responded with with a smile, and a, "How ya doin today?". I have no idea who this man was, but he apparently knows me. So my whole trip to Lowe's had my mind troubled over who this mystery person is. My guess is someone I've been associated with work over the past few years, but not for certain. I am getting older, and what's that disease the old people suffer when they lose their memory? Perhaps he was a person I owe money to, or better yet, he owes me money! My theory is: I've been at my trade for too many years now, to remember everyone. Word has gotten around about my ability to find the shiny side of a tile, and set it with the correct side up. Obviously this has given rise to my popularity, and I now have ascended to 'rock star' status. He must have just been a fan, maybe even the president of my fan club. I'm glad I was on somewhat of a time constraint, otherwise I would have had to stop and carry on a conversation with this guy, and pretend I know him. That can be a bit awkward. All I've got to say is, I hope I don't run into him again, because I don't have a clue who he is, or even know of somebody who might know him. Besides, I may still have his 20 bucks.

Made The List

Lists are good. It's good to have a list before you go to the grocery store or hardware store. If you make the Dean's list, that can be good or bad, depending on which list you find your name. A list is important for many reasons. Most use a list to accomplish a certain amount of tasks in an allotted amount of time. Rather than relying solely on memory, make a list and check it off as you go. I'm sure we've all done it. One of my previous entries had to do with a list of folks I would like to invite for dinner. This wasn't just a list of friends, (they're always welcome), it was a top 5 list of people I found intriguing, (I'm not saying my friends aren't intriguing either). While sitting with my family on the patio last night, in front of a cozy fire, we come up with some of the most bizarre conversations. Would you expect anything less out us? My oldest daughter, who is very vocal about her feelings, mentioned someone who is a great source of irritation to her. She then proceeds to tell me, this person is on her top 5 list for 'People She Would Like To Punch In The Face'. Where does she come up with this stuff? Her mother and I are a little more reserved, on the verge of passive. I mentioned I have never filled out my top 5 list of folks who deserve a smack down. So I had to find out more about this list. If given the opportunity to punch the person who is seeded #1, are they now off the list, or do they just drop a few spots, perhaps to #5? That depends on the person, and whether they are a repeat offender of my daughter. After being bludgeoned, can they show up on the list, Top 5 People Who Deserve An Apology? Once again, depends. I used to have the pent up rage my daughter is expressing here, but age helps cool that off. The high blood pressure and ulcers are just not worth it. So I'm pondering over individuals who may warrant my wrath, and I cannot come up with one individual who should be on my punching bag list. Oh, there's plenty of people out there who ratchet up my anger from time to time, but not to the 'rearrange your face' level. If my list existed, how would you know if your name appears on it? If I have ever punched you in the face, your name was there. Time to go practice Wii boxing and start compiling my list. Peace out;)

Liberating

People have all types of liberating experiences. For some, it may be getting their license (in the case of my daughter), some like to fly, maybe riding around in a convertible with the top down, mountain climbing, and so on. As a child, you don't really think about these exciting moments that bring you a feeling of liberation. But, as a young boy, one of the most satisfying moments in your early life, is being able to pee outdoors. Recently, my wife's cousin's kindergartner, got in trouble at school for peeing on the playground. Now I don't know all the circumstances, but I would have a hard time administering discipline for such a heinous act. If he were trying to pee on someone else, or showing off to the girls, yes there should be consequences. But if he was preoccupied with dominating his fellow students in a game of Duck Duck Goose, and the overwhelming feeling you get when your bladder has reached maximum capacity, and your choices are to take a chance and run as fast as a five year old can run, into the school and try to make it to the restroom in time, and possibly be ten feet shy of making it, OR excusing yourself, walking over to a tree, and take care of business, I don't really sense an issue here. This is one of those moments when you feel like you're getting away with something. I remember being a young lad, and going out back, in my grandparent's yard, and peeing behind a big bush they had in the corner of the yard. Then I would walk over to the dog's water dish, and wash my hands. You should still try to be clean about the whole experience. The whole 'peeing outdoors' issue can be a bit confusing when you're young, and just starting out. There are rules and limitations, some written, others implied. A boy's first experience may have occurred while out in nature with his father. Have to pee, and the nearest commode is several miles in all direction, it's time to let nature be your toilet. Public urinating, on the other hand, is frowned upon in probably 100% of cities across the globe. Of course, the older you get and the more you do it, just like anything in life, you hone your skills. You soon learn to account for wind speed and direction. Just the thought of a wet spot on your shoes, or the front of your pants can be very uncomfortable. Placement is a key factor also. Peeing in a spot you're eventually going to have to walk doesn't work to well. Peeing uphill is another problem you'll soon figure out. You can't run away from it in midstream. And peeing in the vicinity of certain friends are going to make the outing an embarrassing or painful one. So I encourage young men to learn the art of peeing outdoors, in order for future generations to carry on the 'rite of passage' so to speak. Enough blog, time to go let the coffee out.

ish

Time for a little vocabulary lesson. Just when you thought you were done using your brain, I have to go and make things complicated. Don't worry, there won't be a test, unless you want one? The three letters, ish, together form the suffix meaning; 1. having the qualities or characteristics of. 2. somewhat or approximate. 3. of a nationality or religious group. For instance, the sentence, 'The Amish man with the girlish figure, will be here about sixish'. I think this is a suffix you can have real fun with. I like using it because it gives me somewhat of a flexible schedule when dealing with my day to day, high maintenance, adult toddlers. When I tell someone 'noonish', in my mind, that's a 50 minute extension. Now if you happen to find yourself in Minnesota, be prepared to hear this phrase often and loosely. Minnesotans may use this suffix as an exclamation, perhaps in lieu of a curse word. 'Ish! There's a fly in my soup'. This is actually a slang term from long ago, but a prefix rather than a suffix to a word, when an older generation used to say, 'ishkabibble'. It means; should I worry, or should I care? Over the years it has been shortened to 'ish'. It was thought to have a Yiddish (honestly, no pun intended), or a German root. But upon further investigation, it's just a made up word, that had popularity around the beginning of the 1900's thru the 1930's. Whether it's a made up word or not, it's still fun to say, and an easy way to catch the attention of a Minnesotan, or someone who is familiar with the term. Hard to believe I could blog this much over such bibble-babble. Ish.

Open Your Mouth, and Close Your Eyes

I hated being told that as a kid when an adult was trying to get me to eat something or take medication. If it tastes good, I don't have to be coerced, bribed, tricked, or forced. Fortunately, my tastes are varied. There's a few things I prefer to keep my taste buds sheltered from, but for the most part, I'll try it once. If I didn't like it the first time, I may let several thousand hours pass before trying again. One such product that I did not enjoy as a kid, was headcheese. My grandfather would buy it, sit and eat it for lunch or a snack and thoroughly gross me out. I tried in once, at about the age of sixteen, and haven't had the courage to do it again... until maybe now. The stuff he bought was packaged by Oscar Meyer? and probably consisted of over processed scraps of mystery meat they had lying around. If I were to try it again, it would have to be homemade, possibly by me. Just the name alone, makes most folks ralph a little. Why couldn't they think of a more pleasing name? Terrible marketing skills. Since I am old enough now to drink, I can always chase it with alcohol. Meat served cold, always tastes better with beer anyway. So we'll see if I can muster up some courage (real or liquid) and venture to try it again. By the way, closing your eyes really does nothing to change the taste.

March Madness

This month is INSANE! I finished my taxes over the weekend, now it's time to schedule a date with the CPA. Maybe I would enjoy it if he were better looking. Oh, and a woman. My insurance company required me to fill out a form describing the features of my house, so they can reevaluate the cost of rebuilding, in case my home were destroyed by fire, or tornado. That translates as an increase in premiums in my vocabulary. The government required me to fill out a census form. I quickly scanned over it to make sure there was no 'family sensitive' information required, and then gave it to my 15 year old to fill out. That's called 'delegation' :) On top of all this (toilet)paperwork, I seem to be very busy at my secular work. I'm getting calls almost every other day for new jobs. Is that a sign the economy is turning the corner? On two different days last week, I had a total of at least 32 phone calls, either incoming, or outgoing, or missed.... by NOON! If I'm going to be on the phone that amount of time, I should check into telemarketing. I need to find time to get a prescription refilled. This has been most elusive, for all these other items are far more important than my health. I'm starting to feel like the doll that two young children are playing tug of war with, while some crazy voodoo lady sticks needles in my rear. I guess being busy keeps me from getting in trouble. You know me, I have a propensity for finding trouble. Amazingly enough, I was able to watch a little college basketball amidst all the turmoil, known as 'my life'.

Crazy From the Heat

I don't know if you saw it, but there was a big burning ball of fire in the sky today, that felt as if it were burning off my white flesh. Rumor has it, the temperature reached 64 today. Three and a half months into the new decade before we finally reach the 60 mark (Nov. 12 was the last 60 degree day). When a nice day pops up after months of drudgery, you (or rather me) automatically think 'OUTDOORS'! It's too early in the season to start with the lawn or the garden. Outdoor projects, sensitive to below zero temperatures, just need to wait for about 3 - 4 more weeks. So to fill the need to be outdoors and do something worthwhile, I had a momentary lapse of reason, and took the dog for a tug of war, known to most people as a 'walk'. He is just as excited to be outdoors (other than his own back yard), as I am. It's a good thing one of us was on a leash. Enjoy your one day of spring, winter hits again tomorrow.

That's Gotta Hurt!

While relaxing after work yesterday, I thought I would catch the news. This is a somewhat typical routine of mine. Of course, being of the less civilized gender, the segment of news I'm most interested in is the sports. Last night they were highlighting the Nebraska wrestling team. I, personally am not a big admirer of the sport, but those guys who participate, are some tough dudes. So they happen to interview a couple of the stars of the team, and both of them look like they have a potato stuck to the side of their head. It's not a potato at all - it's their ear! I'm sure the rest of the team has cauliflower ears also, but, MY GOD, why would you love a sport so much to allow the sport to deform your head like that? I talked to a fella at work about this. He used to wrestle in a peewee league, and then high school. He said, "It's a badge of honor amongst the wrestling community, when you develop cauliflower ear". He also mentioned ring worm is very easily contracted when you're a wrestler. All these aspects of wrestling, besides the fact of groping another man, make the sport, 'Oh so appealing'. I guess with any sport there's going to be a price to pay. Professional football players, on average, live nine years less than the general populace. A professional football player, in one game, is likened to being in a violent car accident. Now multiply that by the number of games per year, times the number of years a player remains in the NFL. No big surprise then, that the players end up in wheel chairs, due to blown out knees, season after season. I can't help but wonder, is it all worth it? Apparently some think, 'yes'. I guess if they found another line of work, instead of sports, I may be competing for the same construction jobs against these professional athletes. I can honestly say, I would not wrestle another contractor for the privilege of setting tile in your house. I like the way my ears look.

Snobs vs. Geeks

My wife and I spent a rather enjoyable evening together. We decided to go out for a burger and a beer. We ended up at Granite City, for they have equally, good burgers along with good crafted beer. I thoroughly enjoy a good microbrewed bock or IPA. So I happen to be blogging under the influence of some fine adult libation. Now, we also enjoy good wine, though we hardly spend the money on such. But when we do, there are a few we've had that make your taste buds dance, and turn one's countenance upward. Please keep in mind, I'm no expert when it comes to wine or beer. I just know what I like, and I'm not afraid to try anything once. But when I happen to find myself in the company of those who know wine (or at least know more than myself), I feel a little inadequate. It's as if I'm being told subliminally that I'm not qualified to drink this lovely beverage. So many wine connoiseurs live up to the stereotype of being snobs. On the flip side, you have the beer geeks. This crowd seems to be a little more accepting of my ignorance. I don't feel the need to withdraw because I have a question, but am too terrified to ask. Ask away, and chances are, you're going to end up with a free drink. And maybe a second, just so you understand exactly what you're tasting:) Regardless of your poison, whether you have a sophisticated palette, or just a taste for something carbonated, you should wake up with the exact same headache. The hangover doesn't care whether you're a wine drinker or a beer drinker, just as long as you worked your liver over, and woke up next to the cold porcelain pillow you are hugging.

Magna Cum Laude

It means in Latin, 'With great honor'. I have a friend, who shall remain nameless, who happens to be fluent in Latin. I just can't help but wonder why? Regardless, he's probably the smartest person I know. When you meet an intelligent person, they're usually a lot like Albert Einstein. Freakishly smart, but can't figure out the zipper on their pants. This guy seems to have struck a balance. He CAN tie his shoes, and yes, they are on the correct feet. He can condescend to your level, and carry on somewhat of a lengthy conversation on just about any topic. But there is a price to pay for being that intelligent. He does have a few phobias? that manifest themselves, the longer you get to know him. He doesn't like to draw attention to himself, until you hear him speak. Then he has an audience. He's somewhat phobic of crowds. I don't know if it's because of the amount of people in a given place, or the fact that we all carry our own suitcase full of germs. He likes good food and wine, but then he'll go indulge on a stack of pancakes at Louie M's. He usually feels so guilty about it afterwards, he doubles up his workout at the gym later the same day. Any rate, he's a very nice person, and probably one of the most interesting people you would ever meet. Occasionally I drop him an email, or send him something interesting involving food or wine, and he'll respond with a Latin phrase at the end. It's very frustrating, because I don't know Latin, yet I want to find out what he's said. I need to know whether he's insulted me or complimented me. He knows it's a mind control thing. If he sends me a Latin message, he 's manipulated me into looking it up. I'm like a mouse attracted to the cheese in the trap. I can't help myself, and he's got me. I feel the need to verbally punch him when he does this. The last phrase he sent was a Clint Eastwood quote, "Go ahead, make my day". I've been looking at Latin phrases to respond. So far, my favorite, "I didn't know you could do that with your hair". It's perfect, since he's completely bald. But, if I respond, then I've taken the 'cheese', and he's going to hammer me. I'm glad it's all in jest. He has the type of mind and personality to pull off a prank, or practical joke, that would be unmatched. There's no possible way to top it. Better to leave well enough alone, and just stick to matching wits with my seven year old. As least she lets me win once in awhile.

Left Unattended

It's always a tense moment when walking thru Walmart or some other place open to the general public, and have children running, screaming, wandering, or hiding from adults, and there is no supervision. Before you know it, a child, who happens to be someone else's, is either trying to get into your cart, or hold your hand while crying, "I want my mommy"! I guess the parents feel these places are an opportunity for free babysitting. They may reason, "There's dozens of adults in here to watch my sister's boyfriend's ex girlfriend's six children. Have you seen the people who frequent Walmart? Have you been to the People of Walmart site? Hilarious, scary, disturbing, and confusing all rolled into one! So this weekend, my children are being dropped off at Walmart. Just kidding! Actually, thing 1 is going to Rockford,IL with a friend of ours who married a nice chap from that area, and are in the process of moving back to Omaha. She is already working here, and driving back and forth every weekend. So my oldest will be gone from Thursday evening to Sunday evening. Thing 2 is leaving this morning with her best buddy, to North Platte, to visit their relatives. So my youngest will be absent from Thursday morning to Sunday afternoon. This leaves my wife and I unattended ALL weekend, to do whatever we please:) I have no idea what's in store. The shock of the situation hasn't set in yet. I'm a bit on the nervous side. Do you realize how long its been since I've been alone with a woman? My palms are sweating just blogging about it. The pressure is on to impress this girl, without the presence of children, to show her I'm not the lump on the couch that occasionally raises his voice to correct wrongdoing on behalf of the offspring or canine. I'm definitely going to have to bring my 'A' game. I may throw out the disclaimer that I've been carrying baggage since the 1900's, when some extra members of the family decided to be born, so be patient and gentle, I'm a little rusty in the 'impress the girl' department. I'm trying to come up with a place to take her out. Someplace exciting and maybe a little adventurous. Walmart to go people watching perhaps?

Jingles

I was a little disappointed this evening when a commercial came on for the candy bars, Mounds and Almond Joy. I was expecting to break into song at any moment, and the catchy jingle I grew up with never played. Momentarily, I was feeling like a nut. When there was no music, not only did I not feel like a nut, but I was a bit saddened. Those jingles we grew up with were the only thing that made the commercial halfway appealing. Commercials today annoy the hell out of me. Some are funny, but most seem to be yelling at me. If my TV show has to be interrupted, at least give me a fun tune to sing along. I would love to sing about my Slinky, hum along and offer the world a Coke, break out in song and encourage you to become a Pepper too, and for the grand finale, name my bologna, Oscar Meyer, in a mini Broadway musical. I'm sure the people producing commercials these days are probably my age. When did my generation lose the sense of chorus, and decide to crap out lame commercials? If you want your product to become a household name, create a jingle, and the world will sing about your product while standing in the checkout. Maybe I'm just getting old, but consumer products in a down economy could use a little cheering up. Lets join our voices, and sing them a short, but fun, musical jingle.

Sensitivity

"You insensitive bastard! Do you have any idea how much that stings"? That was a great line from the movie Men In Black. Very recently, its been brought to my attention, that I too am somewhat of an insensitive bastard. Up until now, it hadn't really dawned on me, but, given the facts, I think I'd have to agree. While driving home last night, a Motley Crue song came on the radio. I'm not a huge Crue fan, but this song amuses me, and I have to turn it up and sing along. The title is 'Don't Go Away Mad', and the chorus says, "Girl, don't go away mad, just go away". My loving wife pointed out this character flaw? during my karaoke performance. She said, "You never get upset when you make me mad. You just go about your business like nothing happened". "In fact, all the girls you've dated, you just made them mad and moved on". What she said made perfect sense. I refuse to fight over, what appears to me, to be petty differences. I may say or do something, and feel completely justified in my action, and not wait around for a backlash. I've said my piece, I'm in the right, see ya when the anger level subsides. Very selfish on my part to not let the second party (namely my wife), express their concerns and disdain for what I've just put them through. I'm not totally insensitive to my wife and her feelings. If someone other than myself, makes her feel bad or angry, that upsets me to the point where I may need to say something. For the most part, I'm pretty thick skinned. You can flat out say something rude or insensitive to my face, and I think to myself, "Glad I don't share a closet with this person", and then resume what I was doing to set them off in the first place. I will admit, I can be a great source of irritation when I need to. The first step to correcting my problem, is admitting I have a problem. Step #1 accomplished. Step two would require accepting help. The problem with step #2 is, I prefer to act alone in my course of insensitivity. I don't think I need help in making folks upset with me. This is something I've done for years, I'm pretty darn good at it. I believe my training started when I was young. My mother could anger multiple family members by just walking into a room. My grandmother taught me the insensitive side. Say something mean, and if you're called on it, cry some crocodile tears. Instead of the tears, I just walk away without any chance for recourse. John Mellencamp put it nicely, when he sang, "I need a lover who won't drive me crazy. One who knows the meaning of 'Hey hit that highway'".

UFO

They weren't necessarily flying, but definitely unidentified, at least since November. The two objects I saw were extremely white, and would have made the night sky glow if it hadn't have been 5:30 PM, on Dodge Street yesterday. Accompanied by a dog, I saw my first person of the new decade wearing shorts. In Arizona, such a person would be locked up in a mental institution until it reached 75 degrees. Yesterday was still a bit on the chilly side for me, but I do appreciate that woman's optimism. This weekend, with the threat of 50 degree weather, could bring the Unidentified Femur Objects back to planet earth - Omaha in particular. I plan on digging thru the closet to find a pair of shorts, not only to display my optimism, but maybe to encourage spring to visit more often. When I display my platinum white stick legs to the world, sun glasses might not be strong enough. The flash and arc may require a welding mask. It could be a similar affect as when the nuclear bomb was tested in New Mexico. I just keep telling myself, when August rolls around, and the heat index says 110, I just need to think about how much snow dumped on us, and all the problems it created this winter, and I'll try not to complain. But living in Nebraska, year after year, I think a Nebraskan earns the right to vent about the weather once in awhile. I just hope I remember how to put shorts on. May be there's internet instructions I can download.

Well Why Not!

I walked in on a rather amusing conversation yesterday between my children. Now keep in mind, my oldest daughter has always lived in the here and now. She's had a firm grasp on reality at an extremely early age. In fact, at the age of four, she once told her grandfather, who happens to be a diehard Yankees fan, to stop yelling at the TV, they can't hear you. Daughter number two has not quite reached that level of reasoning yet. In fact, it's almost as if she's refusing to accept it. When you hear the things that are uttered from her mouth, you realize the little girl that's still frolicking around inside of her cranium. So yesterday's conversation had something to do with ponies not being able to drive cars. The seven year old asks the fifteen year old, "It's because they don't have 'attachable' thumbs, right"? Of course, we got a chuckle out of this, and my oldest, being the family editor, corrected the wrong vocabulary, by telling her, the word is ' opposable'. After thinking awhile, maybe 'attachable' thumbs are not the correct term, but could be a solution to the problem, if somebody were to invent such a thing. Maybe ponies could drive if they were equipped with 'attachable' thumbs. Maybe a lot of species could do more motor function with a little bionic help. Then it dawned on me. Even with the aid of an 'opposable, attachable' thumb, ponies have hooves, not hands! A thumb is of no value if you're missing the other four digits, duh. Sometimes seven year old children can be so silly, thinking up such preposterous ideas. Besides, if I equipped my dog with such a devise, he would then just open the refrigerator door, and help himself, rather than waiting for something to drop on the floor, or try to sneak something off the table. But, he could let himself in and out when he has to go. I guess there's an upside and downside to everything.