NASCAR Circuit

I have some friends who get together once a year for a very special sporting event. I don't know how many years they've been doing it, but they bring their fastest, modified, late model cars to the track and race. There's a trophy for the winner, obviously, and the ceremonial glass of milk afterwards. The track is orange and snap together with red pieces of plastic tabs. The cars range from classic to custom to outlandish. If you crawl underneath the car, you'll see the brand says "Hot Wheels". That's right, "Hot Wheels". Yup, grown men getting together to relive their childhood and race their Hot Wheels. This friend has been buying track on ebay for several years now, and has about 300 feet of the orange track my mom used to whip me with when I was being "less than cooperative". So I'm the rookie driver this year, and I hope I don't embarrass myself my first time out. I don't even have a car yet. I may have to steal one of my kids' cars. It's really a shame, when I was a youngster, I had upwards of 300 Hot Wheels and Matchbox cars. I know there were a few that were very good track cars. You could tell by the weight of the car and how easy the wheels would spin. I don't know what happened to my collection. I lost interest when I got old enough to drive life size cars, and I don't know what mom did with them. I hope some child is playing with them right now. A few years back, my wife and I were walking through an antique mall, and saw some Hot Wheels for sale. There was one listed for $30! I had three of them in two different colors! CRAP! No need to cry over lost riches. Regardless, I'm looking forward to the race day. I think it might be another excuse to drink beer, also. Of course the drinking will take place after the driving, so nothing to worry about.

The Hardware Store

Going to the hardware/home improvement center for me, is no different than taking a 5 year old to Toys R Us. Many times, I'm in somewhat of a hurry, so I make a list, enter the store, find what I came for, load it up, check out the sales, think about the home projects I have, look around the store for that, think about the tools I might need (whether worn out or borrowed, which means they won't be returned), pick up tools, look at tools I don't necessarily need, enter the checkout, grab one last item at the checkout (screwdriver bits, batteries, gum, etc.), and then pay. I think it's amusing when the checker asks, "Did find everything you were looking for today"? Little do they know, my excursions to the hardware store are about 98% successful, with a 50% chance of picking up extra "essentials". I wonder if this is the same phenomena that overcomes a woman when she enters a department store? All I know is, when I walk into the hardware store, I feel as if I've walked into the store made just for me! The hardware stores gotta love me, because I sure do love them.

Fireworks

You know, fireworks are a blast, literally! I will admit, I do love a good fireworks show! And I've enjoyed fireworks ever since I can remember. It must be the perfect combination of light, color, and noise that attracts a young boy and holds him over to adulthood. I still find myself oohing and aahing over the beautiful explosives. They seem to be better developed now than when I was a kid. Now they can make the outline of actual objects appear in the sky after they've gone off. Of course, the finale is always, well,... the finale. It seems they throw a match in a barrel of explosives, stand back, and see what happens! That sure is a cool gig. I wonder how I can get a job blowing things up?

Where Have You Been?

No, you're not in trouble. It's not the type of question that's supposed to make you submit to guilt. It's the type of question to log your travels through the US.
visited 28 states (56%)
Create your own visited map of The United States or Like this? try: Sea Level Rise

Doo Dahing Around

Now I'm not a person who really experiences road rage, but I find myself becoming more impatient in traffic, with people just puttin' along 10 miles per hour under the speed limit. Today was especially frustrating. First, I was stuck behind an older couple who were driving extremely slow with their foot on the brake the whole time. I couldn't pass because traffic was heavy, and no room to squeeze in to change lanes. In my truck, you don't really squeeze into anywhere. Of course I was in a hurry, not hugely so, but a little rushed. As we're idling down the road, the older driver is anticipating the red light. He can see the hand flashing on the stop light to warn pedestrians the light is going to turn yellow. The light is still green and we are slowing to a crawl, so we don't accidentally make it thru the green light with plenty of time to spare. Well, I finally turned onto another street, and was only about 10 minutes late. No harm, no foul. Later in the day, I was driving on another busy street, behind someone from Ft. Calhoun (the county number on the plate tells me so), and they seem to be lost, because we're progressing at a rate that I can't actually keep up with the bicyclist next to us. I'm pretty sure they were lost unless they were just practicing their turn signals, and pretending to drive drunk, wandering from lane to lane, to prevent anyone from passing. I finally maneuver my way around with some creative driving, only to be stopped by a flock of about 30 geese crossing the road. Of course the cars pulling up and stopping, freak out the last five and they turn back around and cross in front of me again, further slowing my progress. I must admit, it took a lot of patience on my part today, to not FLIP! It's a good thing I wasn't listening to head banger music, I may have used my vehicle as a plow to give a few love taps today! Maybe I should just look at the clouds while driving. That would be tranquil and relaxing, and I'll just assume those are speed bumps I'm going over;)

Gene Pool

Genetics are fun boys and girls! My oldest daughter hates me because of her hair. My youngest has to wear glasses because of poor eyesight on my side of the family. I am the proud displayer of a David Letterman or Alfred E. Newman smile, which ever you choose to poke fun at me. I'm going to steal a line from my dad, since he's the one who "blessed" me with my diastema. I could probably floss my teeth with a jump rope:) Outside of gross physical defects, I think genetics are kind of fun. My daughters also have my chin, affectionately referred to at our house, as the "butt" chin. They've also been burdened with too much facial hair, but in my defense, their mom is a sufferer also. Eye color is definitely mom's. Both have brown eyes, but each a different shade of brown. Skin tone on the older, from me, the younger, from mom. Grandmas always have fun with genetics. Of course, the good looking traits are always from their side of the family. Oh look, that young un' has cousin Chester's cheekbones. I doubt it, cousin Chester was actually the next door neighbor. Look at the size of that toddler's head. Nobody on OUR side of the family has a head that size. Sure they do, they're just adults now. So, no matter how big your nose is, or how far apart your eyes are, or your widow's peak, you should at least thank a parent for the opportunity to pass on your family defects to the next generation. C'mon in everyone, the water in the gene pool is warm!

Old, New

Back in January, the neighbor to the south of us finally sold his house. He had it up for sale for quite some time. If you've ever seen the movie MONEY PIT, with Tom Hanks and Shelly Long, this guy actually lived it. To start, he overpaid for the dump. Houses in the area were going for around $100,000, he paid $127,00 for a fixer upper. He's from California, so in his mind, he was getting a smokin' deal. He hired a "born again" contractor, who openly expressed his arrogant pomp, whenever he spoke to you, and ended up taking my neighbor to the cleaners for about $180,000. The scope of the project was quite extensive. He basically took the house down to the foundation, did a small addition, added the garage from hell, and rebuilt the whole house. Needless to say, the first contractor was fired. The second contractor arrives to save the day. They pretty much unraveled everything the first contractor did, because of code violations, and started from scratch. Finally, after two years of construction/destruction/construction, the house was, for the most part, finished. He had workers over, off and on, to do small things, but he was actually living there. Not too long after, he had a small stroke (if you met this guy , you'd understand), and decided to move where there were other people living in close vicinity, because he was afraid to live alone. After putting all this time, money, and effort, he put the house up for sale. Last figure I heard was $380,000 for the price of the house plus remodel costs. It sold in January for $127,000. Our new neighbor moved in just last week. My old neighbor's misfortune continued after the sale, (some legal issues) that held up closing for the next six months. In the meantime, he lost out on a job opportunity in Texas, because he could not leave Nebraska until he got the house off his back. The new neighbor was very patient while waiting for all the legal "crap" to get cleaned up, living in a couple of different places, sleeping on friends' couches for weeks at a time. The day finally came! Old neighbor, free at last of his burden, new neighbor finally settles into his new castle. What an experience for both parties. The life stories they now both possess, are definitely worth telling. Hope they blog about it!