The "Matriarch"

Went camping over the weekend. The place we went, also has a beach with swimming. This spot is usually a big hit with the kids. It just so happened we were the first ones on the beach this morning, so we got the choicest spot. Now when you're on the beach, it's fun to people watch. I realize that everyone else has just as much right to be there as I do, but I think they should monitor what some folks wear to the beach. First thing that happened, a rather large kid, probably 13 years old, who was camping near us, him and his family (probably 20 people), arrived within 2 minutes of us. He was the first to dash toward the lake. Even though the temperature was warm, the water was still a little frigid. Well he ran into the water, shirt still on thankfully, and dove in. He came up out of the water resembling a small killer whale, and letting out a huge scream I'm sure could be heard throughout the park. A few younger siblings followed and mimicked the same pattern, pretty much insuring any fish and wildlife in the lake, took shelter on the opposite side. Within the next 60 seconds, this same land whale yells to his younger protege that he left his cell phone in his pocket and now it's ruined. So he whined about that for a few more minutes until, I believe it to be his grandmother, arrived on the beach. She happened to be surrounded by her version of the paparazzi, with multiple children in diapers, in tow. She secured her 10x10 area with half a dozen beach towels and an umbrella. Please keep in mind, this was no small woman, and not your ordinary entrance to a public area. Her voice was so loud, she could have used a bullhorn and saved herself "long distance" charges. After barking orders to several children, by using their first and middle names so they knew she meant business, she was able to land her craft in the middle of her blanketed area. Now for the good part, she unrobed down to the bathing suit. There was so much spillage, it made the Exon Valdez look like a fly turd. All I want to know is, where's the fashion police, or even the local police, when you need them? Then she proceeded to yell from 40 feet away, at adults, children, grandchildren, and probably a few people not even associated with her group! I'm just in awe of people who are morbidly obese, and feel they need show as much of it as possible, and then announce it to the world. No need to announce, we can see for ourselves! It wasn't quite the relaxing day at the beach I had hoped for, but it gave me fodder for a blog entry. So as we're packing up our things, I hear one of the posse say, " I don't think that BLT agreed with my baby". The matriarch yelled, "Did he s@#t in the water?". Then they all just laughed. At any moment, I was expecting someone to come out from hiding and tell me I was on Candid Camera or something. Unfortunately, they never did. 

Mysteriously Mysterious

I am the proud owner of a pair of work boots that I've owned for 2 years now! That has to be some kind of record for me. They're nice and broken in, comfortable to wear to work. But, I'm pretty sure within the next 4 - 6 months, I'll have to purchase new. It'll be a sad day when I have to throw those away and start breaking in a new pair. It's almost like potty training a new puppy. What's funny is, kids these days (mine included), think a worn pair of shoes is some form of chid abuse. They always want to get new shoes. But here's the mysterious part of this story. Over the years, I've had clothes that were worn to the point of extreme comfort. An old sweatshirt, a pair of bib overalls that I cut off to make them shorts, and various t-shirts with maybe a small hole or two, and one day they come up missing. Oh, I've asked around, but nobody seems to know anything about my clothes disappearing into thin air. I know my wife has nonchalantly helped them out the door, either to the Goodwill or to the landfill. I may have to resort to a lie detector test. I know she's looking out for my well being, and when I leave home, she doesn't want me mistaken for a homeless person, but I can reassure you that those clothes still had life left in them. All the crucial areas of interest were still covered. I'm not an exhibitionist. There may be an occasional plumber's crack, but nothing too offensive. If I was going to put on a show, clothes would not be a part of the wardrobe while I was jogging down the street! But, nonetheless, I can't get an answer as to where my clothes end up. I think she's afraid I'll go buy them back from the thrift, or flag down the garbage man. I guess there's a remote chance aliens took them. That would be awesome to know that the "Kevin" look was in vogue on another planet.

Song in My Head

Sometimes it drives you bonkers, other times it helps you get through some boring mundane project. You've heard a song or a jingle and it feels like the needle is skipping, because it is playing in your mind over and over. For some reason, I woke up this morning with the old Dr. Pepper jingle playing in my noggin. I'm a pepper, you're a pepper, wouldn't you like to be a pepper too? There it is again! It seems that commercials today have gone away from the cute little melodies that used to make us all sing along whether we wanted to or not. Some of my favorites were Slinky, the Coke theme song, and Dr. Pepper. Remember two all beef patties, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onion, on a sesame seed bun? But here's a good one for ya'. My bologna has a first name. It's O-S-C-A-R. My bologna has a second name. It's M-A-Y-E-R. Do you remember the rest? Think about it, and once you figure it out, it should be burned there for the rest of the day! No need to thank me:) 

PB&J

Could there be a more perfect bond of union? Don't even pretend you don't like it. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are truly the dynamic duo. The history is rather interesting but somewhat vague. Ancient cooks have been preserving fruit since the beginning of time. They were just waiting for someone to create peanut butter, then have a happy little accident, by combining the two, to create the beautiful combo. In the late 1800's, a form of peanut butter was first introduced, but made with almonds and only served to the wealthy in upscale tea rooms. As early as 1901, was the first mention of a pb&j in a book. By the 1920's, peanut butter was being produced commercially. This was about the same time sliced bread was being produced. Just in time for the Great Depression, peanut butter and bread sandwiches became a staple for children. This was also rationed to soldiers in WWII. Packets of jelly were also included in the rations. After the war, peanut butter and jelly sales soared thru the roof. The sandwich is definitely an American icon. No other country eats more peanut butter than the U.S. All I've got to say is, "Thank you", to whomever accidentally slammed these three ingredients together, and gave us such a perfect bond of union! By the way, you've got a little peanut butter on the corner of your mouth:)

Hump Day

Boy, it sure is tough getting your act together after a three day weekend. Yesterday was total chaos. I put probably 120 miles on my truck, made 8 stops, tried to accomplish some work, and smooth it all out before hump day. I think I did it, but each day always brings new challenges. There are times where I feel I have a handle on things, and work seems to throw a stick in the front spokes of your wheel. Many times, I've been cruising thru my day, thinking I'm going to get off at a decent time, and some tile setting "emergency" comes up, and I'm adding 2 1/2 more hours to the end of my day. But I have hump day to be the transition point of my week. If I have my act together, the remainder of the week sometimes finishes on a good note. Otherwise, Friday rolls around, and I work harder on Friday than I did the previous four days. So, the way I see it, Monday is "total chaos, free for all" day. Tuesday is "nose to the grindstone" day. Wednesday is "transition" day (remember to not let up on the accelerator). Thursday is " light at the end of the tunnel", or "finger on the panic button" day, and Friday is "screw around" or "makeup" day. Saturday and Sunday should be holy and sacred days, spent with family, friends, food, and drink. Sometimes "work" feels the need to invite itself into my weekend. This is a definite source of irritation. My wife once found a Chinese proverb that said, "Work will fill up the time you allow for it". If you allow 40 hours, no problem. If you allow 50 hours, it's cutting into family time. If you allow 60 or more hours, you're a slave to your job, and that's not fun. So today is the day I need to shake off the three day weekend hangover, and get it together before this weekend. The rest of you should do the same. "Have fun storming the castle"!

Forward THIS!

I'm only going to say this once, but I'm going to ramble on about it for the whole entry. I HATE it when people send me STUPID emails, and then threaten me with bad luck for the next two reincarnations of my life, if I don't forward it to ten of my friends! You call yourself a friend?! You would actually wish something bad on me just because I didn't forward something totally ridiculous?! Well, thank you for thinking of me, or rather, of yourself. Do you know how many of these retarded email threats I've forwarded? You can count them on zero fingers! You know, if there's something clever you want to share with me, edit first by deleting all the B.S. There are so many times I feel like sending it back to the person who sent it to me with about 400 replies. And for all of you whom I did NOT forward this crap, "You're welcome". Did you ever stop to think, that if you consider me a friend, and you send me something that's going to put this dark cloud over my life for the next generation, there's a chance we're going to be hanging out together, and you could be a part of my misfortune also? How would you like that? And how dare you assume I have ten friends! But suppose I did. Maybe I have more than ten. Let's see, which ten shall I choose to ruin their lives? Unless you really do wish ill on me, please don't forward me these threats of cyber misfortune. I may have to come visit you with my ten friends who didn't forward it either, and share the love!

Beer

If you haven't figured it out by the whole theme of my blog, and the many references to tipping a glass, I like beer! I believe it may have been the ancient Egyptians who first made a form of sour mash alcoholic drink, at least that seems to be the consensus. I looked up the origin of the name, (it's Latin, just like every other species or category), the word "beer" comes from the word "bibere", meaning "to drink". I realize not everyone in the world has the same heartfelt fondness for the drink that I do, but you don't have to like it for it to be an enhancement to your life. I know what you've just said. "What? Have you been drinking?" Try to follow my train of thought. Do you have friends or family that enjoy a cold one every now and then? Do you like to cook? Do you like to laugh? If you answered "yes" to any one of these questions, then "beer" may help you out in this regard. Offering friends an occasional beer (provided there's not some medical or personal issues), is an act of kindness in my book, and endears the friend even more. Don't be afraid to cook with beer. There are many recipes that actually call for beer, and the alcohol cooks off, so the flavor is all that remains. My wife has a pot roast recipe that requires Guinness Stout. Wonderful flavor, and she's teases me with it about once every other year. She makes that about as often as I buy her flowers. I know, my bad. Now keep in mind, I'm not advocating drunkenness, but a couple of lagers under the belt, at a get together, help keep the party lively and fun. And I will admit, it is funny to see someone let their inhibitions down, and make a clown of themselves:) What I really appreciate now as opposed to my "formative drinking years", is the fact that beer drinkers tastes have become more sophisticated, almost like wine drinkers. Do you like the way I carefully worded that last sentence, so I didn't incriminate myself? There are many microbreweries that offer different flavors and types of beers with very distinct taste. The price might be a little more, but definitely worth it. I thought it rather amusing when Anheuser-Busch was bought last year, from a foreign company. Americans were rather upset by this transaction. Please keep in mind though, the company that bought Anheuser - Busch, is from Belgium. There are extremely good beers from Europe, and if anything, they're going to make the product taste better. I know it means money going to a foreign land, but nothing made in mass quantity is made here anymore regardless. This just seems to matter more to Americans, because they're passionate about brew. So if you're a teetotaler, try not to be "Reich" about it, as long as folks are enjoying it responsibly. And any of you decide to invite me over for ANY reason, you will thrill my taste buds by forcing me to lighten the load in your cooler! Here's to ya!