In A Hurry?

So last weekend, I needed a few things at the grocery store, for a get together. As usual, I try to squeeze the most minutes out of my day. So I thought I would pop in to a grocery store on my way home - one I don't usually shop at. Stupid, stupid, stupid idea! First of all, I'm not sure where everything is located, so I have to spend extra time searching the aisles. Second of all, it's a Saturday, which brings out every non - English speaking person, AND their twelve relatives in tow, plus every old person at the wheel of a motorized cart. It's like a demolition derby, south of the border! Simply put - CHAOS! So I quickly maneuver the aisles with speed and precision, dodging motorized carts trying to take my knees out, and leaping over crying, snot - nosed kids, laying in the middle of the aisle, acting as human speed bumps for the motorized retired NASCAR racers. I've procured my four items, now time to plan a strategy for the checkout and exit. Squeeze between the big butted person bending over to pick up the screaming, dirt faced, toddler, and the old guy in coveralls, who wreaks of cigarette smoke, and kitty litter, dodge another cart that just ran into a display of Captain Crunch, juke the guy who looks like he's in as big a hurry as I am, and jump into the 'Express Lane', where only individuals with twelve items or less, are allowed. Then it comes to a screeching halt! The two women at the front of the checkout, have a whole basket of groceries, enough items to occupy three 'Express Lanes'. They must have misunderstood the sign, and messed up on their addition. If you can only count to twelve, then you have to start over, which means you have twelve items, twelve items, and eight items. That apparently qualifies you for the 'Express Lane'. But wait, they almost forgot the coupons! And to slow the whole process down, the older one (the one without the dentures), is doing all the communicating with the checker, which means the checker is only understanding 25% of what's being spoken. Top that off with a checker who's obviously 'less than thrilled' to be there, and you now have the slowest checkout line in the store. In fact, the line next to us shoved three individuals, with fully laden carts through, in the same amount of time it took to get the 'dream team' of two women through. Instead of saving precious seconds, it probably cost me fifteen minutes. And of course, Murphy's Law dictates that since I had to use the bathroom in addition to being in a time crunch, this was surely to occur. Lesson learned? Probably not. One positive thing that came out of this excursion - I got caught up on all my super market tabloids:)

Stumped

Double-sided tape is a wonderful invention, but which side to use?

Consumable Music

The other day, I commented on Jimmy Buffet, and my desire to be his side kick as 'Mayor of Margaritaville'. After that post, I got to thinking about other musicians, their music, and what they like to sing about. Amazingly enough, they sing about things other than 'love', and 'sex'. Quite a few sing about things that can be consumed. Then the iPod song list started to develop in my head. To get you really jazzed up, you could start by doing a few lines with Eric Clapton. "She don't mind, she don't mind, she don't mind, ..... cocaine". To bring you back down to earth, the group Chumbawamba had a whole menu of drink selections. Start with a whiskey, then vodka, switch to lager, chase it with a cider. Definite hangover! Truly "pissing the night away". After that bender, you might find yourself in a gay bar, having a pina coloda with Barry Manilow. And probably my favorite, checking out the peaches at the market with Steve Miller Band. Figuratively speaking, peaches are some of my favorite fruit :)

Running For Office

Don't get your hopes up, I'm not running for any public office. I am actually politically neutral. True, I don't have a right to complain about government, or the way things are run, simply because I refuse to vote, BUT you can't blame 'poorly run government' on me. But one position I would consider is, assistant to the mayor of Margaritaville. I don't want to be mayor, that's Jimmy Buffet's position, but to be his 'right hand man' would be a dream job. "Sure Mr. Buffet, I'll plug in the blender". "I would be happy to set up your microphone Jimmy". "Can I call you Jimmy"? That's such a catchy tune, I would be happy to listen to that daily. Have a drink, sing a song, have another drink, sing another song. All in a day in the life of the mayor of Margaritaville. And as you well know, the more you drink, the better your singing becomes ..... at least in your own mind.

Injured Reserve List

Every so often I make the rash decision of joining in an athletic event that I haven't played in years, and have definitely NOT trained for. I think to myself, "I'm an all around athletic guy. I should be able to make a good showing. Even though I'm out of shape, I've watched plenty on TV". So last night I took my bowling prowess on the road. My kids got invited to go bowling, so by extension, I got to bowl also. After being coerced with beer, I was primed and ready for some pin knockdown! First, I find the biggest piece of crap ball, and decide to play with that (Bowling balls come with 5 holes in them, right?). It was very apparent I'm not the athlete I used to be, or the bowler I've ever been. And where was my team!? I was yelling, "Hard, Hard!", and my sweepers were no where to be found! I think that severely handicapped my game. One problem, right off the bat - my ring finger got hung up in the ball as I was throwing, and did something bad. It was slightly swollen last night, when I got home, and is quite a bit sore this morning. I guess its just the ring finger, not my index or thumb. So if my coach needs me, just give me a shot of cortizone, and send me back out. All in all, the evening was a lot of fun. The kids had a blast, I enjoyed hanging out with friends, and best of all, I put on a bowling clinic that will not soon be forgotten. The biggest pain, more so than my finger, was having to change my shoes.

It's Official

Well, yesterday was somewhat difficult, not physically, but mentally. I had the overwhelming chore of sharing some 'less than desirable' news with my fellow lessees. Let me explain the situation. My current shop is located in Irvington. If you're not sure where Irvington is, it's a little sleepy suburb just northwest of Omaha. There is a building I lease part of it with three other businesses, (all in some form of construction), to help keep the cost affordable. Yes, this building is big enough, but from time to time, we do get into each other's way. The location is off the beaten path, sandwiched behind some auto repair shops, and a dairy farm. For the most part, it's nice and quiet, and we've had no trouble with vandals or thieves, the four years I've been there. NOT the ideal place for a business wanting to grow. So I'm off to the big city, a.k.a. Omaha, down to the 60th & 'L' St. area, into a brand new building. There are so many 'positives' to this move, I can't even start to relate. The former arrangement sort of worked for awhile, due to the patience and my ability to make molehills out of mountains. But, there's only so much a person can accept, before it becomes a constant source of irritation, and no longer a place I looked forward to helping me use my creative abilities. When I first agreed to this arrangement, I was excited, as were the other tenants, to create and share ideas and work. The last two years, it has become a place I have to go to, to perform my '9 to 5' job, without any incentive to do anything creative. In one word, 'drudgery'. For all I know, it may have even affected my ability to write blog material. I would come home from work, eat, do paperwork if necessary, watch TV, fall asleep in front of TV, wake up and go to bed. That's time I'll never get back. Maybe now, I won't waste so much time doing nonproductive, mundane things, unless I choose to do so, rather than being sucked into that vacuum, because life has been sucked out of me. The new shop is still going to be a shared experience, but with a fellow concrete artist, who has even more of a burning passion than I do. We both have very creative and unique ideas, and we've agreed to help one another on our projects. I'm sure there's going to be a learning curve, but we both are focused in the same direction. Its only been 24 hours since I broke the news, but I can already feel my mojo coming back (different mojo than Austin Powers). In the meantime, I still have two more weeks at the old shop. I hope its not too uncomfortable, or awkward. I can only imagine the conversations around the water cooler.

Face Bored

So just as I suspected, after joining Facebook, it sucks a huge amount of time out of my life, and I get to read posts from bored house wives, who apparently have these miserable existences according to their constant whining and complaining. There's a few individuals who actually have something intelligent to share, or strike up a thread that is actually worth responding to, but, in large, I get to experience the pathetic existence of several individuals who are SOOO caught up in their misery, the only thing they have to offer is negative 'crap'! One thing I have enjoyed, following certain companies who have something interesting, fun, or tangible to me and the public. This is the main reason for continuing to put up with the rest of the parasitic, life sucking, 'joy' pulverizing, hordes that are flooding Facebook with such massive amounts of wallowing in pity. I feel the need to comment, but on the other hand, I don't want to come off as 'cruel' to those who are worth listening to. Good thing for the blog, so I can get this poison out of my system. To the majority: The only reason you have 659 friends on Facebook, people are collecting you for posterity. You don't really think they would be your friend in person, having to listen to the endless whining about how horrible your life is, do you? To the minority: Continue doing what you're doing to make social networking a tolerable, and sometimes enjoyable experience. I will continue to bite my tongue online, but amid certain crowds, I may have to speak up and take the chance of not being quoted on Facebook.