The Quotable Jerdogg

2011-05-13T20:57:00.000-07:00

It's been almost a year since I posted anything here.

I have to say, I really love my life. At this moment I am sitting in my garage and I just really like where things are at in my life. Things are pretty comfortable overall. I'm not sure this is a good thing or not. It feels good, but in my life I just feel like this has sometimes meant I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And how about that? There's a phrase huh? Waiting for the shoe to drop? what does that even mean? Waiting for everything to fall apart because things are going almost too well?

Yep. That might be what I mean. Sad? Perhaps. I think there is pain in life that we never share, and sometimes I think there is pain that we don't even realize is pain, but it all affects us.

This seems like a silly post. I have an unreal life. It's as close to perfect as is actually feasible. So why do I struggle with with these questions that really don't seem that significant in the end. Why am I sitting here listening to Jamey Johnson songs and beating myself up a bit?

Stock-car horticulture

2010-06-03T13:09:00.000-07:00

I've realized how much I've changed. Not in the sense that I'm necessarily a different person, but in the sense that I enjoy slightly different things.

For example, I used to read the blog of a particular writer as often as he wrote. I enjoyed his books so much that I thought I would probably also enjoy his daily prattle. What I found is that I didn't agree with him on a lot of his daily stuff... which is strange because I tend to agree with what is in his books almost wholly. Maybe it wasn't so much that I didn't agree with his daily stuff but sometimes I didn't agree with how he was coming across. I guess I can't explain it too well, but the bottom line is that I stopped reading his blog.

Then I heard he had a new book coming out so I thought I'd get caught up on his blog happenings. Unfortunately as a result I'm not very excited about his new book, to the point that I don't even know that I'll read it.

So the question is, have I changed? Maybe he's changed? It's certainly possible that we have both changed.

I tend toward wanting to read books that challenge my mind in the sense that I'm learning something, which means that I read almost exclusively non-fiction. I'm in a phase where reading fiction seems almost like a waste to me. I certainly see the value in escaping in a book, but I tend to feel a bit guilty if I'm not reading something that isn't informing me.

I like books about people... what they did, where they came from, how they ended up where they did, etc.

I listen to far more music right now than I did a year ago, when I listened to AM radio almost exclusively. I still listen to AM, but I am probably about 50/50 (music/talk radio) in my listening pattern right now.

How my lawn looks matters to me... and I have no idea why.

I swear that 3 year service award is around here somewhere

2009-12-28T15:42:00.000-08:00

I like writing. I truly do. But I'm so inconsistent. My problem is that I don't make time.

Of course, I have plenty of other problems as well. One of them is that I leave home without zipping up my pants, and I do this a lot. You probably don't believe that, but I'm not lying, and my wife will vouch for me. I have no idea why this happens. It's as if I get the button buttoned, the belt looped, and then I just get bored with the idea of completing the fastening of my pants.

*Speaking of getting bored, I also have A.D.D. when it comes to pumping gas. I'll be right in the middle of pumping, and then I just decide that I'm bored with it. Doesn't matter if the dollar amount isn't right on a dollar, doesn't matter if the truck is full or not... I just stop. This doesn't make any sense to me.

Maybe as I get older I'm just getting more forgetful and impatient. I'm not even that old... I just turned 32. Someone told me that 30 is the new 20. I don't even really know what the old 20 was, but I can tell you this, 30 isn't 20... heck, any math major, or 5 year old, will tell you that 21 isn't even 20. Only 20 is 20.

Doesn't matter. I've realized that the more often people say stupid things like "30 is the new 20" to me that the correct response is almost always: "the Jer abides."

*I looked at Yahoo Weather on my blackberry today, and at the bottom it said "Are you in San Francisco, CA?" How random is that? I immediately thought "No... are you?"

*Have you ever suddenly forgotten how to spell the city that you live in? Yeah, me neither.

The Quotable Jerdogg: Year in Review

2009-12-28T15:20:00.000-08:00

The last time I blogged (on this site anyway) was February... holy crap. So here's an update.

The best parts about 2009:
1) We bought a house and moved back to our hometown of Rochester.
2) It's almost over.

My wife likes Ryan Reynolds

2009-02-22T18:49:00.000-08:00

*For the first time in my life I'm watching the Oscars. People will probably think me less of a person for saying this, but I'm not really that into movies. It's true. I like movies, and I have my favorites that I quote, etc, but I don't really see a lot of movies, especially in the theater. And almost every year when the list of nominees for best picture come out you can be assured that I haven't seen any of them.

*It's staggering how often I forget to zip up my pants.

*I've been playing guitar a bit lately. I'm not good at it. I know only a few chords (G, D, E, Em, C, Am, A, F, B), but the ones that I do know serve me fairly well in that they tend to be part of a lot of songs. More accurately, they tend to be the basis of most country songs. Which suits me fine.

*Christopher Walken is on the Oscars right now... I dig Walken. I think I speak for everyone when I say "what is he doing with his hair?"

*My wife thinks that Jennifer Aniston needs to break up with John Mayer.

Leather Seats Optional

2009-02-04T10:06:00.000-08:00

Today is Wednesday...

Haircut lady at Fantastic Sam's: Do you want your hair washed?

Elderly client: I just washed it on Monday.

Edible undies and other great inventions

2009-02-03T05:38:00.000-08:00

*I'm already tired of hearing about Michael Phelps smoking pot. I'm not saying I condone it, I'm not saying that he should lose all of his endorsements. All I'm saying is that I'm already sick of hearing about it.

*As a whole, I would say that this year's Super Bowl ads were well below my expectations. I generally expect that there will be at least 5 commercials that will make me laugh so hard that food comes shooting out of my mouth. Considering the hype that comes with Super Bowl commercials, I don't think that this is an unrealistic expectations.

Here are some other thoughts on Super Bowl commercials:
- I am against movie ads during the Super Bowl.
- I am against any ad that has already been on TV prior to the game.
- I am in favor of any ad by E-Trade that has the talking baby... they always deliver.
- I am in favor of the 1 second Miller High Life ad... am I the only one who only saw one of them?

The Fear Inside You

2009-01-30T17:26:00.000-08:00

This may be a slightly controversial post. Depending on who reads this, and how they take it, I might offend someone. But I'm willing to take that chance, because someone needs to say these things.

This list is called "Signs that your friend has changed." Most likely this is because of a girl, but he could be changing for other reasons too, who knows. I suppose it's possible that some of these reasons could pertain to gals too... but I only have experience with dudes in this case.

#1: Your friend stops calling and/or answering/returning your calls.

This is an obvious one, so I won't elaborate.

#2: When you ask your friend to do something and he declines, instead of just saying no, he immediately gives you three reasons why he can't make it in rapid-fire succession.

You might just ask you friend to grab a beer, but he can't make it. Instead of just saying he can't make it because he's busy, he quickly fires off three reasons he can't make it. "I have to get up early for work, I promised my gal I'd have dinner for her... plus I haven't been feeling well lately." One excuse is fine. Usually when someone gives you three rapid-fire excuses, the real reason is "I just don't feel like it."

#3: Instead of saying yes or no to an invitation, your friend starts to say things like "probably."

"I probably can't make it." "I don't think I can come." "I don't know if I'll be able to." As his friend, you immediately know what this means.

#4: When your friend DOES go out for beers with you , he doesn't get as "loose" as he used to.

Okay, so you're all getting older, so maybe you need to slow it down. But every once in awhile it's okay to let loose and relive old glories. Your friend needs to be okay with this.

#5: "I've got to get going."

Your friend used to be the guy who MADE you stay out all hours of the night. Maybe he was the "just one more" guy, or the "I'm buying" guy... now he's the "I know it's only 10:30, but I've got to get going." And when you ask him why, his response? See #2.

Hello Darkness My Old Friend

2009-01-28T10:06:00.000-08:00

Periodically I will write a blog post where I proclaim that I am now going to focus on blogging more often, talking more often about the daily happenings in my life. Invariably this resolve lasts about 3 weeks. Recently, during my last such proclamation, I believe it lasted nearly 5 weeks... this was quite a feat.

The problem, for me, is that while I am a creature of habit, life often does not oblige me... or anyone for that matter. Suddenly the holidays roll around, you travel for work, your wife has knee surgery, there is a peanut butter products recall, you have a romantic interlude where you fall in love with bluegrass, it's cold as all heck outside, you lament the fact that you haven't gone ice fishing yet, the Gophers play horribly in their bowl game, the headphones that you use to listen to music on your laptop when you are at work begins to short out, the heat function in your pickup doesn't work... and you forget about blogging. I'm sure you can relate.

I feel guilty about this. Generally the three loyal readers of this blog will say to me "you haven't written anything in awhile." Once I'm done fantasizing about screaming at them about how busy I am and then stomping off, I say something like "yeah, you're right... I've just been so busy."

Anyway, I'm going to try it again... try to write more often, about more random things. Something I'm going to STOP doing it trying to come up with pertinent titles for blog posts... it's a waste of time. Let's be honest, when it comes to this blog, you're either going to read it or you aren't, it doesn't matter what the title is. So I'm going to start utilizing completely random titles that probably have nothing to do with the content. I used to do this with emails that I'd send to my friends, and it always created some banter. They might be a song lyric, a song title, or just something random I saw on a bumper sticker.

So today's post title "Hello Darkness My Old Friend" is the opening line from "Hello My Old Friend" from Simon & Garfunkel.

Baby names

2008-12-29T08:52:00.000-08:00

Check out this article in the Strib today... then let's chat.

"One force leading into 2009 seems to be a celebrity of a different kind: Michelle Obama. At least six female names beginning with "M" were among the top names of 2008, Zack says: Michelle, Madison, Madeline, MaKayla, Mia and MacKenzie."

Does this seem like a stretch to anyone else? That the popularity of Michelle Obama lead to a lot of people naming their children with "M" names? Seems like a bit of a jump to me. In a related story, apparently the sale of orange juice has really dropped off this year... probably because O.J. Simpson was finally convicted of a crime.

"Isabella is still a favorite, having been chosen recently by Matt Damon and Drew Lachey. "

This is crazy... I didn't even know they were dating.

"Britney Spears' troubles don't seem to have had a trickle-down effect on her younger son, Jadyn James. Jadyn was the No. 2 baby name of 2008."

I hope that we can all agree that if anyone you know is naming their kid Jadyn, expressly because it is the name that Britney Spears gave to her kid, that person should be immediately shot in the face... no questions asked.

Woman gives birth to 18th child

2008-12-19T11:44:00.001-08:00

Michelle Dugger of Arkansas gave birth to her 18th child this week.

Giving birth to 18 children is incredible... but let's talk about pregnancy for a minute.

Here are some fun facts:

*Do you realize that, assuming Mrs. Dugger was pregnant for a full term with all of her children, that she has spent 13 1/2 years of her life pregnant?

*Michelle is 42 years old. That means she has spent 32% of her entire life on this earth pregnant.

*The Dugger's oldest child is 20 years old. Assuming that Michelle got pregnant when she was 22 years old, she has spent 13.5 years of her last 20 years, pregnant. Or 67.5%.

*Michelle said this of having a new child in the family: "This time goes by so quickly. I look at my older children and wonder where the time went." Based on the above stats it's safe to say that the time went mostly to pregnancy, nursing and Michelle and her husband... um... conceiving.

*All of the Dugger's children have names that start with the letter "J".

*The Dugger's next youngest child is just 17 months old. This means that Michelle got pregnant just 6 months after giving birth.

*The Dugger's would like to have more children.

*Michelle's husband is named Jim Bob. It's safe to say that Jim Bob has some strong swimmers.

Thoughts on Election Night...

2008-11-04T19:58:00.000-08:00

Greetings from Pittsburgh, PA, and a happy election night to you!

Some thoughts while watching the election coverage.

-First of all, if you like beer (and you should) and you have never had Yuengling, you are missing out. It's brewed right here in the great state of Pennsylvania, and whenever I'm in the keystone state, I always make sure to enjoy one... or more.

-I'm not going to go into it, but I'm not a fan of the electoral college system.

-You should know that in Pennsylvania the liquor stores only sell cases. If you want a 6 pack or 12 pack you have to go to a restaurant that sells them.

-Do you think it's even worth having people on the West Coast vote? Seriously, by the time the polls close in California the election is pretty much already decided, isn't it?

-The election was just called for Obama.

-I'm watching Fox News, which may or may not be a good channel to watch election coverage. In any case it's the one I'm watching. Anyway, they are talking about how one of Obama's greatest asset is his likability. If this is truly Obama's best quality as our president we should all be concerned.

-So how long do you think McCain's campaign has been working on his concession speech? A week? A month? Or did they maybe start the night that the nomination was confirmed for him.

-Speaking of concession speeches, here comes McCain and Palin...

-Above all else, I think that the best thing about Obama winning this election is that we won't have to watch Tina Fey impersonate Palin on SNL anymore. Don't get me wrong, she does a great job. I just don't think I could handle 4 years of it.

-McCain just said in his concession speech that losing the election was not his supporter's failure, but his failure. Holy crap? Do you think he voted for Obama?

-This loss is probably good news for Todd Palin. Honestly, what was that guy going to do in Washington? I don't think (and I could be wrong) that you can snowmobile down the National Mall.

I slack... therefore I am

2008-10-23T21:57:00.000-07:00

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know... I haven't posted anything in awhile. Not that anyone has been complaining... but I can pretend can't I?

*Do you think that I use ... too much? I think that I do. I've been trying to cut down on it, but honestly, it's the way I'm trying to get things to come across... with a pause. Anyway.

*Tonight I was at a local establishment and I saw a guy (and I use the term "guy" loosely) eating buffalo wings... (there I go with the ... again) WITH A FORK!!! Do you see now why I used the term "guy" loosely? Who eats wings with a fork? I've seen women tackle bone-in wings with more gusto. I hereby revoke the "man-card" of any dude who eats wings with a fork. Have some respect for yourself. And don't make me sick.

*Do you know what I like? Fall. I really like fall. And it's not just because of football (although it helps... did you know that the Gophers are 6-1... but I digress). It's because the weather is cooler. Seriously. I like a little bit of cool weather. I enjoy being able to wear a fleece or a hooded sweatshirt. Also, beer seems like the perfect beverage when the weather is cold. Speaking of which, time for another.

*Hey, if you didn't know, Jeffrick and I are doing a podcast on Gopher football over at my other blog, http://www.gopherfootball.blogspot.com. We talk about Gopher football. You probably guessed that. But anyway, if you are into it, and like Gopher football (and you should) and you have a little time to listen to the podcast, please do so, and give us your feedback.

*It's October. I'm firmly of the belief that it's too late in the year for baseball.

Rock the Vote?

2008-10-14T20:14:00.000-07:00

We're going to see a lot of advertisements and commercials and news reports in the coming weeks about how everyone should vote. They will tell you how to find out where you can vote, and how to register, all in an attempt to make sure that everybody who is eligible gets out and places a vote for president. I've already seen a lot of these commercials.

And then it occurred to me... Do we really want EVERYONE to vote?

Watch this video, but don't watch the whole thing (trust me). You can get the gist of the video within the first minute. But while you are watching this video, keep one thing in mind... her vote counts.

Saturday night feva'

2008-10-11T19:30:00.001-07:00

The above title is proof that you should not write the title of a blog post before you write the actual post... cause I have no idea what it means.

Wife Jermo and I had a great day today, and the Gophers won today (WOOOOHOOOOOOOO!!!!) and it was also a really nice day outside, and we had a fantastic dinner at home tonight of steak and shrimp and julienne potatoes. So I decided to treat myself by living the High Life a little bit tonight.

*Tonight I ran to the liquor store to pick up some of the High Life, and I was wearing pajama pants. The liquor store attendant called me out on it. "Are you wearing pajama pants?" I wanted to respond by saying "Aren't you like 40 and working in a liquor store on a Saturday night?" But then I didn't really want to get into a discussion over who's life was sadder right now.

*There's a Kid Rock commercial right now about how you can download Kid Rock albums on some website, and in the background they are showing the video for the song "Roll On," which is a song I happen to like quite a bit. In any case, during this commercial, I suddenly called out to my wife, "HEY, that's a double-negative." I was referring to the lyric "And there was not a stone I did not leave unturned." But the more I thought about this, the more I'm wondering if this isn't actually a triple-negative, meaning that in reality it's a positive. I'm so confused.

Farley

2008-10-10T13:59:00.000-07:00

Since high school people have been telling me that I remind them of Chris Farley. I generally following this up by asking "is that a good thing?"

At this point the person who said it usually tells some kind of lie, like "Well, you are much better looking," or "but much thinner," or something like that.

So is being compared to a fat, alcoholic, dead, hilarious, coked-up comedian a good thing? I'll let you be the judge.

Today I caught a little bit of the Saturday Night Live tribute to Chris Farley. First of all, I was a huge fan of Farley. To this day "Tommy Boy" is one of my favorite movies, and I don't think that SNL was ever before or since a better show than when Farley was a part of it. But I sometimes forget just how hilarious he really was.

As a physical comedian, especially for his size, there are few better. A couple of sketch's come to mind.

First of all, the famous Chippendale's sketch with Patrick Swayze where Farley and Swayze are competing for a spot as a Chippendale's dancer... classic stuff and a great example of Farley's ability as a physical comedian....

Patrick Swayze - Chippendale
Uploaded by tressage

Second, Farley as the lunch lady (who's got a bad case a' da gout), while Sandler sings...

Lunch Lady Land - Adam Sandler featuring Chris Farley

DON'T TAZE ME BRO!!!

2008-10-06T14:50:00.000-07:00

This is weird.

Last night I had a dream that I got tazed. No joke.

In my dream I was sitting in the back seat of my wife's Explorer. She was sitting in the passenger seat. Driving the truck was a guy who I didn't know... but he looked like this dude from "Revenge of the Nerds," except if that dude from "Revenge of the Nerds" had a beard. Weird right?

I don't know who this guy was, why he was in my dream, why he was in my wife's truck, or for crying out loud, why he was driving my wife's truck.

But then, while he was driving the truck he took a tazer our of his vest, and point it at me. And I starting yelling "DUDE, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?! HONEY, DO SOMETHING!!!" But she didn't, and I put my finger (what was I thinking) in front of his tazer.

And then...

HE TAZED ME BRO!!!

Right in my finger and through my whole body and I swear I could feel it, but it didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. It was so weird, and then I kept yelling: "STOP IT!!! HONEY, WHY THE HECK AREN'T YOU DOING SOMETHING?!?!?!"

And then I woke up.

New Kids on the Block: first reunion concert

2008-09-28T18:14:00.000-07:00

Yes, I know, a second New Kids post... but holy crap, this is too good, I can't NOT write about this...

A running dialogue.

8:13pm: This has been on for 13 minutes, and I don't think that we are changing the channel. It's funny that we are watching this, but I'm starting to question if ordering satellite dish was a good idea or not.

8:14pm: Jonathan Knight didn't get the memo that the other New Kids were wearing ties tonight.

8:16: OMG, OMG, OMG!!! "The Right Stuff"!!!!! I just pooped myself.

8:17: Wife Jermo would like for me to point out that I haven't asked her to turn the channel yet. I would also like to take this opportunity to point out that her favorite new kid was Donnie.

8:20: Wife Jermo just asked why there is always a big fat girl in the front row of these concerts on TV. She's right, there is a rather large girl in the front row... right next to the token gay guy. Speaking of which, is anyone else surprised that the New Kids are making a comeback after 15 years and in the past 15 years none of them has come out of the closet?

8:21: In a startling development... that's it. VH1 isn't covering anymore of the concert. Now there's a show on called "Rock of Love: Charm School, with Sharon Osbourne". This show is clearly This Week's Sign that the Apocalypse is Upon Us.

8:23: I can't believe I'm actually disappointed that the New Kids special is over.

Assessing "Behind the Music: New Kids on the Block"

2008-09-28T18:01:00.000-07:00

New Kids on the Block is making a come back.

I know... shocking isn't it?

Go ahead and take a moment to let it sink in if you need to. Also, this might be a good time to go to your closet and dig out your old NKOTB shirts, buttons, watches and action figures.

Wife Jermo and I are watching the New Kids Behind the Music special. Two startling things were said by members of the New Kids during this Behind the Music special, and I felt it neccesary to bring them to your attention.

In regards to a recent opportunity that the New Kids had to record with their boyhood idols, New Edition, Joey McIntyre had this to say: "That's like the Beatles and the Rolling Stones gettin' together." This was immediately followed up by both myself and Wife Jermo saying in unison, "Um, not quite." The really funny thing was that the next shot was of Joey saying, "For me it is... I don't care WHAT you say."

The other startling thing that was mentioned was by Donnie Wahlberg, who said of the New Kids, "The story of New Kids on the Block is like Rocky." The most startling thing about this statement is not the fact that it is completely false, but the fact that it is well known by everyone that Rocky was from Philadelphia, and the New Kids are from Boston, two cities that aren't fond of each other. I would expect Donnie (with an "ie) to get boo'd off the stage for this comment.

I can hear it on the A.M. radio

2008-09-28T03:41:00.000-07:00

This morning my alarm went off at 4:00 a.m. This was not a mistake. I drove my brother-in-law and his girlfriend to the airport so they could catch a flight to Arizona.

After dropping them off at the airport (to catch their equipment), I was driving back home, about a 25 minute drive, on the empty highways in the dark of the early morning. I turned on the radio... and that's when it hit me... I'm old.

I didn't turn on the country station, the rock station, the hip-hop station, the oldies station, or even the light rock station... I turned on talk radio. (Actually, I would have felt far worse right now if I HAD turned on the light rock station. At least I avoided that.)

10 years ago when I moved to the Twin Cities I started listening to KFAN, the local sports talk station. Looking back at a 20 year old guy who is a big sports fan and had just moved to the big city for the first time in his life, I don't regret that decision. But ten years later I'm listening to other talk stations as well... ones that don't even talk about sports.

I haven't started listening to NPR, so I'm not exactly running down the path of old-guydom, but my guess is that it's only a matter of years before I add NPR to my radio rotation.

I don't think I'm alone in this transition. Several of my male counterparts have communicated to me their tendency toward the AM side of the dial. But the question is why? I don't believe that I have more of a need to be informed than I used to, so I can't quite put a finger on what draws me there.

Anyone have any insight on this?

For your veiwing pleasure...

2008-09-25T12:33:00.000-07:00

"America... is that really you?"

A really long and boring narrative about a boring trip

2008-09-21T17:10:00.000-07:00

When I arrived in Pennsylvania on Thursday and headed toward the rental car counter, I was tired, both physically and mentally.

My day had started at a hotel in Greenville, SC where I had had a restless night of sleep. When I'm on the road for work and stay in a hotel I always sleep poorly. I'm constantly concerned that I'm not going to wake up in time to make it to meet with my prospect, that my alarm isn't going to go off, that I've forgotten something, that I'm not prepared enough... etc, etc, etc.

Inevitably if I do fall asleep quickly, something wakes me up. This time it was some kind of noise that sounded like a marble falling from the ceiling and bouncing on the bathtub in the bathroom. I got up to investigate, but was unable to find the marble in question.

So I drove to meet with my prospect in my rented Hyundai (thrilling), tired. I wanted to get some coffee, but because I don't drink coffee very often, it sometimes upsets my stomach, so I decided that being a little bit tired would be better than jittery and nauseous.

The meeting ended with some news that I wasn't too thrilled about, and then I was faced with a 2 hour drive to Charlotte to catch a plane. This drive included a call to my boss where I got to explain to him about the news that I had received that I was not too thrilled about, and then dealing with some rush hour traffic.

Once I got to the airport, I had an adult beverage and was able to be very productive for about an hour, thanks to the free wifi in the Charlotte airport.

Of my four flights of the week, the flight from Charlotte to Harrisburg, PA was the shortest, but also the most uncomfortable thanks to the very small plane, the lack of leg room, and the fact that US Air doesn't offer complimentary beverage on their flights (and I am cheap).

So, we're back to the beginning, where I was arriving in Harrisburg at 8p.m. tired, physically and mentally, ready for a hot meal and a soft bed. I walked to the rental counter, where my car was ready, when I heard the counter attendant ask me: "Your car is a Toyota Prius... have you driven the hybrid yet?"

No.

So he began to explain to me how it worked, but in my state of mind I wasn't paying very close attention as I started thinking in my mind about if I should just ask for a different car, was I really being given ANOTHER compact car, what if I had to take my prospects out to lunch tomorrow, were they all going to fit?

I drive a Dodge Dakota at home. I've got nothing against the hybrids, in fact I think they are a great advancement. But I don't drive one at home, I don't know how they work, and I am not a small man and I do NOT like driving small vehicles.

There, I said it.

Because I'm an idiot, because I didn't listen, because I have never driven a hybrid, and because I was already pissed to be driving such a small car, my frustration and lack of listening lead to a 5-minute struggle to figure out how to start the car. Not drive the car... START the car.

There's no key. You stick the thing that looks like the door lock remote for most cars into a hole where the key hole should be. Then you notice that there is a power button on the dash board. So you push it (or, at least that's what I did). But that did not actually start the car. Now what? Exactly. Now what?

I somehow got the thing started, and I didn't know how, but I was moving and I was getting on the highway, and I was happy to be moving on my own terms. I got to the hotel, hit the power button again, turned the car off, and checked into my room.

But then I had to eat.

This time it only took me 3 minutes to start the car, and this time I paid attention to what I was doing so that I would know how to do it the next time. And what was the grand key to starting this car that I hadn't figured out prior to this? Put your foot on the break, dummy.

So I went to Crapplebee's where I had a horrible meal, which was luckily accompanied by the best beer in the entire world, Yuengling (pronounced ying-ling), which happens to be brewed in Pennsylvania, so when you order it, all you have to say is "I'll have a tall Lager." Surprisingly, as difficult as Yuengling is to spell, it's easy to pronounce, but the more Yuenglings you drink the easier it gets to spell and the harder it gets to pronounce. Go figure.

I slept better that night, mostly because I was so exhausted that I didn't really have a choice. After meeting with the prospect for most of the day I was back at the airport and catching a plane to Detroit.

I've gotten in the habit of using the option to check into my flights online, which you can do 24 hours in advance, and then you also can choose to change your seat if available. Because I have enough air miles now, I usually have the option to choose an exit row... which makes flying coach much more bearable.

When I was checking in for my flight from Detroit to Minneapolis the attendant scanned my boarding pass, then stopped me. She then started riffling through a pile of boarding passes, and handed me a new boarding pass with a new seat assignment. "We've had an equipment change," she told me. "Do I still have an exit row?" "Yes." That was all I cared about.

Then when I got on the plane, I heard the stewardess talking to people getting on the plane and explaining them that this was a smaller plane than had been originally planned and that seat assignments had changed because there had been an "equipment" change. I heard her say this at least half a dozen times.

So this got me thinking (imagine that). Equipment? When did we stop calling them airplanes and just start referring to them generically as "equipment"? Does this mean that I have to start saying things like "the flight was really cramped, the equipment had really small aisles"? Or "I tried to put my suitcase in the overhead compartment, but the equipment had too small of cabinets." Or how about "When I was on the equipment from Detroit to Minneapolis..."

But I digress.

It's good to be home.

Lying Awake

2008-09-17T02:39:00.000-07:00

There's a song by Our Lady Peace, one of my favorite bands (until they went weird), called "Lying Awake." The lyrics to that song do not seem to apply here.

It's 4:41 a.m. here in Minnesota, and I have been awake since 1:30. Superb.

I just love it when I fall asleep easily when I lay my head down on the pillow at the end of the day... only to awake in the wee hours of the morning thinking about emails I should be sending, meetings and conference calls that I should be sending out invites for, quotes I should be putting together, flights I should be checking in for, blogs I should be writing... you get the idea.

So here I sit, almost 5 a.m. and I've been working for 3 hours. Awesome! Okay, so, to be fair, because I'm going to be on the road for the next few days, I also wrote a Gopher Football blog post looking ahead to the weekend.

I have battled with insomnia-laden nights or weeks at different points over the years. Traditionally I've had some trouble sleeping on Sunday nights, which actually brings to mind the lyrics of a song by another Canadian band, I Mother Earth (now defunct), called "Another Sunday":

"Sunday...
Always hard to get to sleep when
Weird noises are implying threats
On cold sheets I sweat
On any other day
It's all rest and flowers
And a long night of nothing"

Usually there is something that is keeping me awake. Tonight it's work and a two day trip that I leave on in the morning (this morning) to visit two prospects. This trip will cover 2 1/2 days, 2 prospects, 2 states, 4 airports, 4 flights, 2 hotels, 2 rental cars, and about 200 miles of driving. Not an epic trip by any means, but there is the general travel anxiety on top of the normal anxiety of needing to maximize the time that I have in front of prospects because it costs my company a good amount of money for me to take these kinds of trips.

Okay, it's now officially 5 a.m., so maybe I should try to lay back down and get a bit more rest... if I can.

Let me tell you something...

2008-09-12T21:40:00.000-07:00

-At this moment it is absolutely unfathomable to me that the television show "Will & Grace" was on for so long and beloved by so many. What is even more unfathomable is the fact that this show is now on syndication. But what is most unfathomable of all is that the remote control is across the room and I haven't gotten up to turn the channel yet.

-The quality of late night programming will increase ten fold when Conan O'Brien takes over the 11:30pm eastern time slot next year. I once lived in an apartment with some guys and we had a rule that nobody was allowed to watch Jay Leno. I've held onto this rule since living in that apartment.

-On that last note, event though he's only on once a week, I also think that Spike Feresten is underrated.

-For the record, yes, I am typing this sentence with one hand because my other hand is holding my beer.

-When my wife and I buy a house, I hope I have neighbors like Bill Dauterive and Boomhauer. But I'd be cool with not having any neighbors like Dale Gribble.

-I don't smoke nearly enough cigars.

-I wish I took more pictures.

-Are there still people who like John Mayer? I never liked that guy or his music, but I can't tell if he's still putting out music or not. Mostly because I don't pay attention. I used to think he was a Dave Matthews rip-off, but now I just think he sucks. My opinion: if you looked in the dictionary under the word "assclown" you would find a picture of John Mayer.

4 Truths and 1 Untruth (also known as a lie)

2008-09-12T19:17:00.000-07:00

1. Alaska is the most fascinating place I have ever been.

2. I iron my own shirts.

3. I have read "No One Here Gets Out Alive," the biography of Jim Morrison, 4 times.

4. The "Bourne Identity" movies are based on my life.

5. I have never driven a motorcycle.

Apocalypse?

2008-09-10T03:45:00.000-07:00

In all of magazinedom one of my favorite bits is the Sports Illustrated "This Week's Sign That The Apocalypse is Upon Us." (Which apparently isn't a bit that they carry over to their online version.) The idea is to give a quick snippet of something in the sports realm that illustrates that the world is coming to an end. I really wish that I could find some old examples of this, cause they are generally really funny... but I think you get the idea behind it.

Well here, folks, is this week's sign that the apocalypse is upon us (at least in my opinion).

That, friends, is an action figure of Republican Vice Presidential Nominee Sarah Palin. Thanks to the good people of the internet, you can buy a Sarah Palin action figure (3 different versions!!!) online. I'm quite positive that the folks selling these action figures are happy for the plug from a seldom read blog.

Actually, in digging further into the link, I'm not sure that the Palin action figures are as much of a sign of the apocalypse as the Beach Blanket Obama is.

Monday night blues

2008-09-08T19:54:00.000-07:00

Seriously... what the heck was that?

The Vikings looked horrible tonight. Leave it to the Vikings to leave a crappy taste in my mouth after an epic weekend of football. I was very cautiously optimistic going into tonight's game. I thought maybe TJack could do some decent things, I thought the pass rush would be better, I just thought things would be better.

They weren't.

I've often wrestled with exactly what it is about these things (football, sports, the Gophers, the Vikings, etc) that causes me such mental and emotional pain and anguish, and (in the case of Minnesota teams) to a lesser extent, such excitement and exhilaration.

At the end of the day, I can't explain it. It is what it is, and I've come to grips with it. I find that I spend less and less time as I get older trying to figure out why I am the way I am, and more and more time accepting it, and moving on.

Here's the good news... I get to spend a lot of time with people that I love enjoying and talking about and over-analyzing these things that drive me crazy.

Life is good, isn't it?

Relaxing Sunday

2008-09-08T09:37:00.000-07:00

Since we got to bed pretty late on Saturday night we slept in until almost 9 yesterday... which is pretty late for us. But it was early enough to get moving for church, which is always a good start to a Sunday.

The weather was a bit rainy and overcast, which was good because then I didn't feel so guilty about sitting on the couch and watching football all afternoon. This is my first football season with a laptop, so I spent the afternoon watching games on TV, while keeping up with my fantasy football teams on the computer. It was glorious.

Overall it was a great weekend for football, which will continue this evening with the Vikings/Packers game on Monday Night Football.

By the way, I wanted to mention that my post a few days ago about loving my wife more than football (which I again want to point out that I do, very much so, love my wife far more than football) prompted some discussion here in the Miller household.

This was the final conclusion that was reached, and agreed upon: I could not love my wife any more than I already do, but I might LIKE her a little bit better if she could throw a tighter spiral. She was in agreement on this conclusion.

Livin' La Vida Loca

2008-09-06T21:08:00.000-07:00

Wife: "The next blog that you post, will you name it 'Livin' La Vida Loca'?"
Me: "Sure... Why?"
Wife: "I don't know... I just think it's funny."

Done.

Fall

2008-09-06T15:20:00.000-07:00

It was so nice to have some fall weather hit this week. It was so hot and muggy last weekend for Labor Day, then suddenly, by Tuesday afternoon it was cool and crisp. I love it!

I really love fall. I love the cooler weather, the smells, the changing of the leaves. But most of all, I love football. Sometimes my wife will ask me "Do you love me more than football?" I do, and she knows I do. But some days, depending on what kind of mood she's in, I might have to give it a little bit of thought. Especially if it's fall when she asks me. Or Saturday afternoon. But I digress.

Last night Jeffrick and I went to see a high school football game. We went out to Minnetonka to see the rivalry game between Minnetonka and Wayzata. Wayzata pretty much controlled the game, so not much to report there. It was a really nice night for a football game. A good fall night. Cool, and crisp. Everyone was wearing sweatshirts and fleeces. And even though we couldn't get a seat cause the game was packed, and we couldn't sit on the side of the hill because the little kids were running around like crazy people, and even though it was still distracting to watch the game from the fense next to the end zone, and even though it really wasn't a very competitive game to watch, I felt happy. (I found this picture of football and changing colors, so it's not mine, but it reminds me of how I like to think of fall.)

I didn't feel so happy when I got home, because I had forgotten to do something important on Friday afternoon that I had promised my wife that I would do. I was mad at myself for forgetting to do this, and I understood why she was mad at me. I earned being mad at. I'm sorry honey.

Today we drove around and looked at houses in some areas where we thought we might like to live when we buy a house. This is usually pretty fun for us, but today it was kind of boring. We drove around Hopkins, but there weren't too many houses for sale, or at least there weren't too many signs in front of houses announcing them as for sale.

The Gophers kick off in about 45 minutes, and I'm going to be watching the game with some friends, one of which I haven't seen in years, so I'm really looking forward to it.

Chaulk one up for "The Man"

2008-09-03T11:58:00.001-07:00

My favorite mid-afternoon snack, Peanuts - Salted from Frito Lay (1 3/4 oz.) has gone up in price. What was once $0.70 is now $0.75.

Because a can of soda from the vending machine in our office is only $0.25, it used to be that I could buy a Diet Mountain Dew and a bag of peanuts, and still have a nickel left, which I would save in a coffee cup in the top drawer of my desk. After 14 bags of peanuts, the 15th was free!!!

No longer.

Now, my entire dollar is gone when I leave he break room.

Score...
"The Man"- 1
"The Jer"- 0

Labor Day Weekend Report

2008-09-01T17:05:00.000-07:00

As previously reported, I took the afternoon off on Friday, so I took some time to go out on the boat by myself and clear my head of the week. Going out on the boat alone is something that I've done a few times now, and I really enjoy it. It's certainly not as good as having my wife and the dogs with me, but it does allow me some time to clear my head and relax as I tool around all three of the Twin Lakes (which sounds pretty funny, now that I think about it, but it's true, it's called Twin Lake, but there are 3 areas, Lower, Middle and Upper).

View Larger Map

I got back home around 7:00 and then we went out for dinner at our favorite local Mexican restaurant, El Toro. (By the way, if you like Mexican food, this is the place to go.) A funny thing happened while we were getting ready. We have a ritual (of sorts) that Tonya gets ready, and when she is about 15 minutes or so from being ready to go, she tells me, and then I jump in the shower to get ready. On Friday night this happened as normal, I took a shower, threw on some clothes and then when I got done getting ready I was sitting on the couch watching TV while Tonya was still messing with her hair. Then she said to me: "Do you know what the most annoying thing in the world is? The fact that you are ready before me." I love being a guy.

After dinner we headed up to G.B. Leighton's Pickle Park in Fridley to watch Monsters of Mock. These guys have a really unique concept. They are an 80's hair metal cover band and they cover a few different bands. This isn't unique. They also dress up like the band that they are covering. This also isn't unique. But, what is unique is that they cover 4 different bands in the same night, and they change their outfits to look like that band between sets. So, for example, they did a set as Skid Row and they were all dressed like the band members of Skid Row (WITH Sabastian Bach), then they took a break and came back as Bon Jovi. The Skid Row and Bon Jovi covers were pretty good, but they really kicked it up a notch when they hit the stage as (the mock that we had really come to see) Motley Crue. Not only did they look like the original bad boys of rock n' roll, but they did a pretty fantastic job of sounding like them musically as well. It was a ton of fun! They also did Guns N' Roses after the Crue, but we didn't stick around for that.

Saturday we laid low, and didn't do too much during the day, then I headed down to the Metrodome around 4:00 for some tailgating before the Gopher game. The Gophers were good enough to hang on to beat the Northern Illinois Huskies, ending a good evening of college football. It's good to have football back... my life feels whole again.

Sunday we went to church at Spirit Garage, which was really good. We've been very sporadic with going to church this summer but it was really good to get back. We are really excited because we are planning to start a 5 week small group in a couple of weeks about discovering your gifts, which will utilize the StrengthsFinder Book. I've gone through this before, but it was several years ago, and before we were married. This will be Tonya's first experience with StrengthsFinder, so it should be interesting for both of us to dig into it.

After church we came home for some lunch then went out on the boat for a couple of hours before settling in for the evening.

Today Tonya had to work, so I was on my own. Pretty boring really. Got a haircut, stopped by the grocery store, and then took a nap which was forced upon me due to an untimely headache.

Back to work tomorrow...

RNC Protests

2008-09-01T12:11:00.001-07:00

As I sit here debating whether or not to go fishing this afternoon I've been watching some TV and a live news feed covering the protesting at the Republican National Convention at the Xcel Energy Center caught my attention.

It appears that most of the protesters seem to be protesting against the war in Iraq and against US involvement in other areas of the world. I don't pretend to be an expert on the issues at hand, and I do not have an issue with the protesting that is going on. Obviously it is the right of the protesters to assemble peaceably.

What I do question, however, is what this is accomplishing.

Specifically I'm talking about a group of protesters that were shown during this news feed on Channel 5. These protesters were standing with their arms locked and laying down in the street to prevent the buses carrying the delegates from getting to the convention. The protesters were then being confronted by police officers on horseback who were trying to get them to move so that the buses could get through.

Allegedly this group of protesters was chanting "We're here, we're queer, we want to be heard."

When the reporter for Channel 5 approached this group of protesters to ask what they were protesting and why they were trying to stop the buses from getting through, they responded that they do not talk to the media...

So I go back to my previous question: what is this accomplishing?

If the protesting is not to get the attention of the public and the media in order to get your issues heard, then I'm not sure what it's for.

After this report, they then showed the inside of the Xcel Energy Center, where the delegates were starting to assemble for the convention, and they described the scene as "business as usual." Even saying that the delegates were milling around, shaking hands, laughing, and having a bite to eat. Clearly the 2,000 protesters outside were not having a profound effect on what the delegates were planning to accomplish.

So what's the deal here? I get that protesting is legal, and I have no issue with it. But as mentioned before, I just don't understand what this protesting is supposed to be accomplishing. If it's not to have the protester's voices heard, then what is it?

Political thoughts...

2008-08-29T17:15:00.000-07:00

... just kidding. I'm not commenting on politics. Maybe someday, but not today.

I had an incredibly eventful week after the boat outing with the boys on Monday night. We had two full days of meetings at work for operations reviews on Tuesday and Wednesday, which meant that my boss and my boss' boss were both in town, and the entire new sales force for the eastern US. For someone like me who is new to my job, it's a very interesting time to hear what the other sales people are dealing with in their territories. One of my favorite things is to be able to listen to some of the stories from the guys who have been selling in this industry for a long time.

After two full days of meetings, Thursday was catch-up day on making contacts with prospects.

Today I worked from home in the morning, had lunch with a friend, and then took the afternoon off to work on some personal business. Tonya and I are beginning the process of looking into buying a house, so I had to get some documents over to the bank and...

it just occurred to me that as busy as my week was, it was pretty boring overall.

2008-08-25T19:24:00.000-07:00

Jeremy says: "Hey, I refurbished my blog. I wrote about our weekend and just now I wrote about my night on the boat with the guys."
Wife says: "Cool... did you put a picture of the girls on there yet?"

No I have not... until now.

Good night...

2008-08-25T19:15:00.000-07:00

Enjoyed a fantastic night on Medicine Lake tonight with Jeffrick, Porta and Blaine. We enjoyed the weather, not a cloud in the sky, cigars, buffalo wings and some barley pops.

I have to say, the boat purchase has totally been worth it. Even though it's just a little guy and there's not much to it, it's just so dang nice to get out on the water, especially with friends and family that I love. I love how peaceful it is, especially on a weeknight when there is almost nobody out on the water.

I used to think that, to some extent, going out on Medicine Lake kind of sucked. The reason being that, from this lake, over the tree line, I can see the building that I work in. But Blaine pointed out tonight that instead of thinking of it that way, maybe I should look at the building and think at least I'm not there (I'm paraphrasing, this isn't the exact way that he described it, but the way he described it probably isn't quite ready for primetime).

Now that we've got that out of the way...

2008-08-25T08:51:00.001-07:00

My mom came to town this past weekend and we had a really great time having her.

On Friday night we had Jeff & Kristy (with a Y) over for dinner and drinks, and we watched some of the Olympics.

On Saturday morning I got up and began putting the boat back together(I had pretty much dismantled the whole thing on Thursday night... a story which I won't go into). This took me longer than expected, mostly due to the fact that prior to putting it back together, I dismantled it further. In the long run this was a good thing, in the short run, it prolonged the project. In any case, the boat was ready to go in the afternoon, so Tonya, my mom, our two dogs, my mom's dog (Dickens), and myself, hit Medicine Lake for a couple of hours. It was a beautiful day and everyone had a great time.

On Saturday night we (Mom too) went to the Great Minnesota Get Together, aka MN State Fair, with Jeff & Kristy. This endeavor pretty much just involved eating. Foods eaten: cheese curds, corn dog, Sweet Martha's Cookies, Tom Thumb mini-donuts, and bacon-on-a-stick. Let me visit the bacon-on-a-stick for a moment. In theory, a brilliant idea. In practice... not so much. While the meat that they put on the stick resembled bacon and tasted somewhat like bacon, it was not good. It was very fatty, much too chewy, and it did not make me smile as bacon should. I do not recommend this (alleged) version of bacon... but do recommend all other forms.

I woke up at 3am to the sound of our MinPin digging in the garbage... not pleasant. After I "dealt" with this situation, it occured to me that the Team USA men's basketball team was playing. I turned on the TV to catch the last 4 minutes of the game to see the Redeem Team take the Gold. It was pretty cool to see NBA players come together to acheive a goal like this. I'm so used to seeing these guys as selfish pricks who are only in it for themselves and the money... but this was totally different. For a few moments I didn't hate Kobe Bryant.

Sunday was fantasy football day for me. Two drafts, one at noon, one at 7pm. I spent the morning getting prepared, because I hadn't done so yet, which is a first for me. The noon draft was an auction, and I feel pretty good about the team I put together. After this draft was complete I spent some time preparring for the evening draft. This draft I was not so happy about. Due to an injury to Peyton Manning (my QB who I kept from my team last year), I was forced to take a back-up QB much earlier in the draft than I would have liked. In addition, the online draft tool that we were using crapped out on us a couple of times, and then auto-drafted a defense earlier than I would have liked. All in all I shouldn't complain. There was a guy in our league who didn't draft his own team cause he had a conflict, so the system auto-drafted for him. In it's infinite wisdom the draft advisor picked 6 QB's for him... great work draft advisor!

I give the weekend a 9.5!

End of Summer Update, bringing us up to speed...

2008-08-25T08:32:00.000-07:00

Memorial Day Weekend: Took the camper up to McGregor, MN and camped at Larson's Barn, where Tonya participated in a craft show. Our friends Josh & Natalie live in McGregor where Josh is Camp Director at Covenant Pines Bible Camp. A very pregnant Natalie did the craft show with Tonya on Saturday, while I headed over to the camp to help out a little bit with the work weekend. On Saturday night we got to spend some time with Josh & Natalie at their home, which was very nice.
On Sunday morning it was raining, so we drove into town for some breakfast, then back to the camper for a nap. We awoke to blue skies, but a few hours later we heard that severe weather was possibly moving into the area. We decided that we didn't care to wait around and find out how possible it really was, so we left the campground around 5:00 on Sunday and drove back home.

June was a busy month for me at work with it being the last month of the 2nd quarter. The quarter turned out pretty good, so we were able to enjoy...

Vacation: I already wrote about this here.

CrueFest: Yep, that's right, we went to CrueFest in Milwaukee on July 19th, Motley Crue's new potentially (hopefully) annual festival. Besides the original bad boys of rock n' roll the show featured Buck Cherry, Papa Roach, Sixx A.M., and Trapt.
Tonya and I attended the event along with both of Tonya's brothers and one of their girlfriends. It was a really good time! The concert was a ton of fun, plus we visited the Miller Brewery (as any High Life man would) and the gift shop at the new Harley Davidson Museum.

Jeff moved back to town... I'm super glad to have him back. He'll be staying with us for a little while.

Boat: Thanks to my wife's blessing I was able to fulfill a lifelong dream at the beginning of August and we bought a boat! My dad had a boat when I was growing up, and being on the water has always been one of my favorite summer activities. It's a 16' aluminum boat with a 25hp motor. It's kind of beat up, and it's certainly nothing special, but it is SO much fun to get out on the lake. Our apartment complex is right on a lake here in the Twin Cites, so we get out on that from time to tim. I also do a bit of fishing. One of my co-workers said to me last week, "I didn't know you fished." My response was, "Well, I don't very much, but it sure seems like a good excuse to go out in the boat."

Changing things up...

2008-08-25T08:15:00.000-07:00

Well, I've decided that I am going to try to take a stab at updating the blog more often, and not being so picky about what I post. One can see this is a good thing, or a bad thing. Good because you'll get more of me... that's good right? Bad because I probably won't be as entertaining as you've grown accustomed to me being all the time.

My attempt will be utilize this blog more as a running commentary on my life, including general updates on my day-to-day activities... again, this could be a good or a bad thing.

Stay tuned...

A new category

2008-07-17T13:38:00.000-07:00

I believe that everyone should have two things in life: policies and categories.

Policies are nice, because, just like in business, you can always get away with something. "I'm sorry, you can't return that television... it's store policy." With personal policies you can always say things like "I don't play pool with anyone who has a city or state as part of their name... I have a policy about it." Or "I'm sorry, but I cannot eat that... I have a policy."

If you don't have a policy, you should.

Categories are a bit different, but they allow you a level of expertise and commitment to a thing that you only previously could say that you loved. For example, I could say to you "I love bacon." And if you know me, then you know that this is, in fact, something that I would say to you. But wouldn't it be even more effective if I were to say something like "Bacon? Why that is in my category of _________."

I have now created that category for myself. This category shall heretofore be called...

"Things that I defy anyone to dislike."

-Bacon: You and I both know that bacon makes everything better. This is not up for debate. It's a fact... it's science.

-"Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)" by Big & Rich: This is just a dang fine song. I mean, it's a toe tapper. I once knew a guy who was into heavy metal exclusively, and even he conceded to me that this is a fantastic song.

-Will Ferrell: "MA!!! THE MEATLOAF!" How can you not love this guy? You do, you love him, I don't even know why I'm asking. He's the funniest person on the face of the planet right now and it's not even close. Seriously, who is second? Who? Dane Cook? Please, don't make me kick you.

-A can of Coke on a hot day: Picture a hot summer day. You are sweating profusely. And let's just say it, you smell horribly. You know the kind of day I'm talking about. And you are thirsty. Nothing... I repeat NOTHING, tastes better at this moment than an ice cold can of Coca-Cola. Honestly, don't fight me on this, you know I'm right.

-"Grace, Too" by The Tragically Hip: Chances are that you don't know this song... you should! I can't explain to you what this song is like, but when you hear it, I defy you to not like it. "I can guarantee/there'll be no knock at the door/I'm a total pro/that's what I'm here for."

-Boating: I don't have a boat, and I hate this fact. Honestly, ask my wife. I often say things like "This would be better if we had a boat." Being on a boat, on the water... it's fantastic. It's relaxing, it's fun, it's refreshing. Everyone likes boating. Anyone that says they don't is lying.

Clearly this list is not exhaustive. I will likely add to it over time. There are several things that I really love, and I think that others should too, but they don't make the list for one reason or another. I am open to suggestions to this list.

Major Mission Complete

2008-07-12T08:23:00.001-07:00

Before you start wondering, let me be clear up front, there are no pictures. We had a camera, and two cell phones with cameras, and yet, we didn't take any pictures. I don't know why.

We just got home from a successful major road voyage. We left home on Thursday morning July 3rd at around 8a.m. headed for North Dakota and returned yesterday, July 11th at around 1p.m. Pulling our 1963 14' Trailblazer travel trailer behind my pickup. We spent approximately 22 hours on the road and drove roughly 1,200 miles, not including incidental trips to grocery stores, local taverns, restaurants, etc.

Since I did not keep a running log of the trip (partly because I'm not good at keeping up on things like that and partly because I was on vacation. These would be similar reasons to why this trip did not produce any pictures), I will attempt to recount some of the highlights here:

Thursday July 3rd:
Since we had done a good amount of packing the previous night, and I had already hooked up the camper to the pickup, getting going on Thursday morning only required a couple of additional items and getting the dogs (our MinPin Ruby and our Chihuahua Belle) ready for the trip. The first leg of the trip took us from home in Robbinsdale all the way to scenic Rogers, MN. This is where we met up with my mom and sister and their two dogs, and had breakfast at Denny's. Our waiter was strange with too deep of a voice, too polite of a vocabulary, and too much gel in his hair creating a real live duck tail. Much to my chagrin Denny's no longer carries the Meat Lover's Skillet, but they do have a plate called the Meat Lover's Scramble which filled in quite nicely.
From Rogers we hit the road for another long trek all the way to Alberville, MN for a quick stop at the outlet mall.
By the time we left the outlet mall it was almost 11:00 a.m. We had been on the road for 3 hours and were roughly 25 miles from home. As a man this irritated me slightly, but as a man on vacation and traveling with 3 women, I decided to relax.
Leaving Albertville we hit the road for real, and our next stop was Fergus Falls, MN for gas. Knowing that the pickup would be guzzling gas even more than normal because of pulling the camper, I didn't want to let the gas gauge get much below half a tank on this trip. While filling up in Fergus Falls, after having filled up in Rogers, I came to a jolting realization... I calculated how much it had cost us to drive from Rogers to Fergus Falls. I won't go into the gory details because it's depressing, but suffice it to say that I vowed then and there not to calculate mileage anymore on this trip. I knew it was going to be bad and we took this into account when planning the trip... I didn't want to ruin our vacation by dwelling on it.
After Fergus Falls my wife and the dogs all fell asleep. This was a good development because they were tired, but also because it meant that I could push on without having to stop for anything but gas. The weather was good, it wasn't hot, it wasn't windy, and pulling the camper, which can sometimes be stressful depending on the conditions, was going well. I was able to average about 65mph on the interstate. My mom and sister called me to tell me they were stopping twice, but I didn't want to wake my sleeping family, or waste this opportunity with them sleeping to make up some serious miles, so I kept pushing on. I finally had to stop for gas in Tappen, ND, a VERY small town between Jamestown and Bismarck, but I was happy to realize that I had been able to tally 200 miles of the trip while the rest of my crew was sleeping.
From Tappen it was just another 70 miles to our first overnight destination, Ft Lincoln State Park, just south of Mandan, ND. This destination was chosen for a few reasons. First, it's just a short drive from Bismarck, where I have family. Second, it was a park that my sister had remembered camping at when she was a kid. And third, the park is right next to the North Dakota State Veteran's Cemetery, where my dad is buried.
My wife, mom, sister and I had a really nice dinner at the campground of tacos and sat around and enjoyed adult beverages and conversation. It was fun to hear my sister talk about her camping memories of the park. I stayed up by myself later than necessary and was kept company by the fire, a few more beers, and tons of bugs.

Friday, July 4th:
We woke in the morning, began packing up, took some showers and hit the road. Tonya had decided that she wanted to learn to drive the pickup while pulling the camper, and I've always believed in learning by doing, so she took the wheel.
We stopped at the Vets Cemetery where I visited my dad, and left him the same gift that I bring him every time I go see him... a golf ball. I leave this gift for my dad because he loved golf so much, and it seems more appropriate than flowers. I'm sure that the groundskeepers there just love me.
Our next stop was to be in Bismarck to meet up with another sister and my nephew to caravan up to Ft Stevenson State Park in Garrison, ND on Lake Sakakawea. We were quickly slowed down in Mandan by the Rodeo Days Parade. Actually, stopped is a better way to describe what we were instead of slowed down. Stopped for 20 minutes would be even more accurate.
Eventually we got going on our way to Garrison, but the road was very windy. Tonya was doing a great job driving, but a couple of big gusts of wind made her nervous so we switched drivers about half way up to Garrison. I can definitely understand this. Our camper is 45 years old, and is made of solid wood and steel, it's not light. When a big gust of ND wind comes whipping across the highway it can really feel like the camper is about to pull the truck off the road.
We got to Ft Stevenson at 1:30. We were to be meeting a third sister and her family at this park.

Friday-Sunday, July 4-6:
It ended up being a fantastic weekend with family. I was surrounded by my wife, mom, 3 sisters, 2 nieces, 2 nephews, one of my nephew's future wife, their newborn baby, and 6 dogs. The weather was very hot, and there wasn't much breeze (imagine that... ND, and no breeze). We spent a lot of time under the awning of our camper with everyone gathered around talking, laughing, drinking, playing with the dogs and just having a great time. Tonya and I cooked breakfasts, my sisters cooked dinners, and we munched on whatever was around throughout the day. My sister and brother-in-law had brought their boat down as well, so we got to go out on the lake a couple of times. I even rode the tube on Sunday, which ended up being a really fun, though slightly painful experience.
My sister and nephew from Bismarck left on Saturday afternoon to head home. My mom and sister from Rochester left Garrison early on Sunday morning to head home, and the rest of us left the park around 3:00 on Sunday afternoon and headed up to my sister and brother-in-law's farm north of Minot where Tonya and I and the dogs spent the next two nights in the camper on the farm.

Monday July 7th:
We slept in a bit and then got up and did some laundry. My sister is a bartender at a place called the Windbreak in Berthold, ND, which is about 15-20 miles from the farm, and she had to work that day. So for lunch we headed to the Windbreak for some pizza. At the Windbreak we had fun talking with my sister and a local farmer named George who chain-smoked, drank Bud Light, and played pull-tabs the entire time we were there. From the Windbreak we headed into Minot where I needed to hit the local CVS pharmacy. We also went to Barnes & Noble hoping to find a WiFi connection so that we could make a camping reservation for our next destination. The internet connection was really weak, however, and I ended up having to make the reservation over the phone later in the day.
From Minot we headed back to the farm and it was nap time. When we woke up my sister had called and said that a friend of hers wanted to meet Tonya and I, so it was back to the Windbreak for us, where we enjoyed some small town bar fried food, adult beverages, pool, darts, the jukebox, and, of course, lots of laughs and conversation, before heading back to the farm for bed.

Tuesday July 8th:
We woke up to the smell of breakfast as my sister and niece were working on putting together a fantastic spread for us before we hit the road. After having breakfast with the family it was time to hit the highway, leaving the farm at about 10:30. We stopped in Minot for gas, and then hit Hwy 2 going east back toward MN. A stop in Devils Lake for Taco Bell and gas (pun partially intended), a stop in Grand Forks for gas, then on into MN, staying on Hwy 2 through Crookston and into Bagley, then south on Hwy 200 for another 25 miles to the north entrance of Itasca State Park. We arrived at our campsite at about 6p.m. and began getting things set up. By the time we were done setting up we were hot and tired, and didn't feel like cooking anything for dinner so we headed to Lobo's Bar & Grill, a local establishment just outside of the park where we ate dinner and watched a little of the Twins game. The bartender/owner was an ornery and quiet guy named Russ and it appeared that his wife was the waitress/cook. Then we headed back to the campsite and hit the showers. We were so tired from the day's travels and setting up that we didn't even start a fire back at the campsite. We just climbed in the camper, did some reading, threw in a movie, and went to sleep.

Wednesday July 9th:
We took our time getting up and had some cereal for breakfast. We were pretty low on groceries, so we drove into Park Rapids to hit the store. Before heading back to the park we stopped at an authentic A&W drive-in for lunch, which was exactly as much fun as you think it should be. Back at the park, things were very low key. We sat around in the sun and read, we took a nap and didn't stray from the campsite. For dinner we had Cheddarwursts (a personal favorite) and corn-on-the-cob. Shortly after cleaning up for dinner we got a little bit of rain, but it cleared up quickly and we were able to get back outside, and I finally started a fire battling the wet ground.

Thursday July 10th:
We woke up around 9a.m. to a lot of rain, and it wasn't showing any signs of letting up. So after reading for a little while we decided to try to go find some breakfast. The first place that we stopped, halfway into Park Rapids, opened at 9a.m., but didn't serve breakfast, so we then decided to head all the way into Park Rapids where we happened upon a little place in the downtown area called Wimpy's. Wimpy's was beat up, old, and everything in the place seemed to be crooked: our table, the booths, the front counter, the shelves... everything. We had a good breakfast for around $10, and then did some walking up and down the downtown area as the rain had let up, but it was still very overcast. While we were hitting some shops the rain started to pick up again. Eventually we headed back north to the park, and the further north we got, the more the skies cleared. When we got back it was sunny and clear.
In the park on Lake Itasca there is a place that rents boats and pontoons, and since we had gotten to the park we had been kicking the idea around. On Thursday afternoon we finally decided to rent a little 12' boat and motor. This ended up being one of the highlights of our trip. We went all around Lake Itasca, just checking out the lake, the trees, and just really enjoying a very beautiful afternoon. We brought the dogs with us, and once they got used to the noise of the motor they absolutely LOVED being out there. We let them take a little dip in the water, they were checking out everything around us, and eventually they were in the front of the little boat while we were cruising along, with their front paws up looking over the side of the boat and looking like they were ready to jump in! It was a really fun experience for us, and having the dogs enjoy it so much made it even more fun. I now think I might have my wife talked into letting me buy a little fishing boat!
Before leaving to rent the boat we had cut up some kielbasa sausage, onion, potatoes and carrots and thrown them into the crock pot and poured a can of beer in, and they had been cooking since we left. When we got back they were ready for dinner, and we sat outside and had a delicious meal which required very little effort and almost no clean-up. We then spent some time doing as much cleaning up and tearing down of our things as we could so that in the morning could hit the road quickly.

Friday July 11th:
We woke up around 7a.m., finished picking up, had some cereal for breakfast, hooked up the camper and got moving around 8:30a.m. We stopped just outside of the north entrance of Itasca State Park for gas, in Leader, MN to use the restroom, then Monticello for gas before hitting the final stretch for home. The drive home was very stressful because the wind was crazy. Without having to battle the wind we easily could have made it all the way home without having to stop for gas.

Overall it was a fantastic trip. It was great to see family, to enjoy the outdoors, and to get a chance to relax.

Chains

2008-05-02T08:10:00.000-07:00

Something just occurred to me. Something that could change the entire course of how I approach life. This could be big. Seriously, this could have far reaching affects on me, my family, my friends... everything. If I would have realized this sooner, where would I be today? How would my life be different? To quote Dave Matthew Band, "could I have been a millionaire in Bel Air?"

This is big.

A little background...

In life I think that there are people who are just plain lucky. They find things, end up in situations that are beneficial to them, they know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy... you know the kind of person I'm talking about. This person finds a $20 bill in the elevator on a Friday afternoon. Their boss gives them tickets to a suite at the Metrodome. Their best friend just happens to have an extra ticket for the U2 concert and doesn't expect them to pay for it. Like I said, you know who I'm talking about.

There are times in my life where I've been that person, I think we all have, but for the most part I feel like I have worked hard to get where I am.

But what if... just go with me for a minute here... What if I could have changed my fortunes? What if I could have had a more profound impact on my life as far as the good things and luck that come my way?

What if... I would have actually forwarded all of those emails that I get that say that something good will happen if I forward the message?

Seriously?!?!?!

Many years ago I made it a personal policy to NOT forward those messages... EVER. I decided that no matter what good thing they promised, no matter what I was not going to subject my friends and family to this kind of thing. I have gotten forwarded messages over the years that were very forward-worthy, that I would have fully been willing to forward to people that I know, but because they say something to the effect of "forward this to 10 people or else" I have refrained. Pardon me if I don't believe that forwarding an email to a set number of people will bring me good luck.

(And furthermore, what about the ones that tell you "if you forward this to 5 people _____ will happen, if you forward it to 10 people _____ will happen?" etc? Who is writing this crap? Who has the audacity to think that they can dictate this kind of garbage? But I digress.)

So tonight I'm going camping, and it's supposed to rain cats & dogs. To a situation like this most people might respond by just staying home... but I'm still going. My response, instead, is "this is just my luck." This morning I get one of these "forward this message to 10 people..." emails, and suddenly it dawns on me....

If I forward this, will it cease to rain tonight? If I had forwarded the one that I got last week, would THAT have been enough?

And it just snowballed from there... What if I had forwarded ALL of them, every single one, over the last several years? What if I had made my policy to forward them all instead of none? Certainly my friends and family would have stopped talking to me by now because of all of the emails... but what kinds of good things would I have experienced? (This, of course, also begs the question of what exactly these "good things" are, how "good" are they, and are they "things" as in physical gifts, or intangible... but that's another post for another time.)

And now you see why I am in complete hysterics right now. I've barely gotten up from the floor where I was frozen in the fetal position to write this post. I can't function just thinking about all of the things that I may have missed out on over the years... if I had only been more willing to annoy my friends and family.

How many 5 year olds could you take in a fight...

2008-04-08T18:44:00.000-07:00

If you haven't yet, you should probably check out How Many 5 Year Olds Could You Take In A Fight... here are my results.

22

2008-03-21T07:01:00.000-07:00

So, I’m not quite sure how this happened, but I’m sitting on a plane right now, and I’m sitting in first class… FIRST CLASS!!! This is pretty surreal.

Here’s the thing, I suppose I’ve done a fair amount of flying in my life. As I kid I generally probably took a trip which involved being on a plane once every couple of years. I was by no means a world traveler, but I the experience was at least familiar to me.

Once you become an adult, it seems, your parents like for you to start paying for your own plane tickets. This diminished the amount of flying experiences that I had significantly during my 20’s. Even still, my dad lived in Arizona until he passed away when I was 25 and in order to get me to come visit him (which I wanted to do anyway) he would generally offer to pay half for my plane ticket.

Long story short… prior to January of this year, I had not been on a plane in over 5 years. But in January I got a promotion at my company, and had to fly to California for training. In my new position I have a territory, and this territory happens to be not close to where I actually live. This means that, on occasion, I might need to fly to my territory to meet with a prospect. Including my training in January this is the third trip on a plane that I have taken this year.

When I got the promotion and realized that I would be doing some traveling I did what, I’m assuming, most people do… I signed up for a frequent flyer membership, honors programs at various hotel chains, frequent renter programs with rental car companies, etc.

I thought it would be quite some time until I was able to reap any of the benefits of such memberships.

A month ago I got word that I would be attending a trade show in Charlotte (a fine city that I had not been to prior to this trip, but I digress). So I called our company travel agent to book my travel for the show.

Two things happened on this trip that were noteworthy (not including the various strange people that you meet at a trade show)…

The first was that I stayed in the nicest hotel that I have ever set foot in, much less actually slept in. (I am not going to name this hotel, because I am about to bash it) This is interesting, but what is more interesting is how little you get for your money at a hotel like this. If you are business traveler this probably isn’t news to you, but my goodness, it was news to me. First of all, this room was around $300/night. Clearly I am not paying for this, but still… For $300/night of my company’s money I get ONLY my room. It was a nice room, don’t get me wrong (huge flat screen t.v., fantastic bed, marble counters, marble tiled shower, very nice towels (by the way, I used every single towel in the room since I knew they were included… it’s the principle.)) Internet… extra. The workout gym… extra. I did not drink any coffee in my room, but it’s at least possible that this would have been extra as well.

Now I’m sure that if it were not for the fact that I am a business traveler staying at a hotel directly next door to a convention center that is holding a trade show, the room would not cost this much money. I get it… capitalism, supply & demand… that’s fine. But holy smokes! This is probably not news to anyone out there, but it was to me, and this is my blog, and you are reading it, so this is what you are reading.

Look, my wife will tell you that I am cheap, and I realize that I am getting reimbursed for all of this, but the amount of money that my company spent for 4 of us to travel to and be at this trade show is pretty staggering to me.

The second noteworthy thing that happened on this trip is something that I realized when I received the itinerary for my travel (and as I mentioned before)… I’m sitting in first class! (You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I’m letting that sink in right now, cause I’ve never flown first class, and I’m not going to lie to you… I’d dang cool!) Again, I haven’t done much flying, I’m not sure how this happened, but I wasn’t about to ask any questions.

First class, unlike a $300/night business hotel, is not a disappointment. If you are like I was before today, and had only walked past first class, sat in coach, and wondered what goes on in the front of the plane, I will now fill you in.

To start, it’s true, they still serve a meal in first class. I just got done eating a delicious cheese tortellini with a side salad, a small bowl of grapes and some sort of dessert which was also delicious. Try getting a meal in coach and you’ll get laughed at. Even a bag of peanuts is $2 in coach. Also, yes, the drinks (including the adult variety) are free in first class. It appears that the magazines are the same in first class as in coach, and this doesn’t bother me. I am not a small man, but I am very comfortable in this seat. You know how when you are flying in coach, and someone leans their seat back, and the person behind them looks annoyed and looks at the person next to them and acts like this is the most intrusive thing that anyone has ever done to them? …this still happens in first class. The difference, however, is that when the person in front of you leans their seat back, you now have roughly the same amount of room as you have in coach when the seat in front of you is not leaned back. The stewardess in first class will bend over backwards for you. I was the last person in first class to sit down, and there wasn’t room in my area for my suitcase in the overhead compartment. The stewardess immediately rearranged the compartments to fit my suitcase. This same scenario happened to me while I was flying earlier this week in coach, and this was the reaction I received from the stewardess… “you’ll have to keep looking until you find room or I am going to have to check it.” Here’s something that surprised me… the people in first class don’t talk to each other. At least on this flight, everyone seems to be here for business, and they don’t seem interested in talking to each other. This is fine with me, because I don’t necessarily want to talk to anyone when I’m on a plane anyway.

As I sit here, I find myself wondering what the people back in coach are doing…

Probably the same thing that I’ll be doing the next time I’m on a plane.

An Ice Fishing Outing

2008-03-09T20:21:00.000-07:00

We started talking about an ice fishing weekend in early January. Nato, Nuth and myself would be the steering committee. We decided we'd get some guys together and head out to Nuth's family cabin.

So, we set a date... then we postponed it, at least twice. It was starting to look like it wasn't going to happen. We finally made our ice fishing excursion to Norway Lake this weekend. It ended up just being the three of us. None of us are hardcore fisherman, to say the least, but we were out to have fun. We did end up catching some fish (key word being "some"), despite the fact that we were all realistically prepared to go home empty handed. Here are the pictures to prove that we didn't.

We got to the cabin Friday night, got the heat going, then headed into New London for dinner at the American Legion. After our night on the town, Nato was tired.

Nuth was good enough to cook breakfast for us on Saturday morning.

He found the very same sunglasses that Tom Cruise wore in "Risky Business." He wore them while cooking breakfast. When I showed him this picture he said "Look at me... if I met me, I'd hate me."

After breakfast we loaded up our gear and headed out onto the ice. (It's possible that I told both my wife and my mom that I wasn't planning on driving my truck on the ice. I wasn't, but I did.)

We found a spot on Little Norway Lake and got ourselves set up. The ice was very thick. At least 30 inches. It took a lot of work to drill holes with our hand augers. We even lost an auger because the handle broke while trying to drill.

We built a fire on the ice (I told my Mom we wouldn't do this... I didn't think we would... I was wrong, I'm sorry Mom), and used my truck as a wind-breaking device. It kept us nice and warm.

We each caught at least one fish. Nuth went first, then me, then Nato. We caught a total of 5 little guys.

Even though they were a little on the small side, we decided to each keep one of our catch. We also each took a crack at filleting (not pictured, Nato wouldn't be able to stomach it). I made a delicious beer batter and fried 'em up.

My dad used to call it Crappie Candy... in our case it wasn't much, but it WAS delicious.

In the evening we toasted our efforts! Next year there will be more fish!!!

This political season...

2008-02-02T05:24:00.000-08:00

If anyone knows of a candidate that is running based on a platform of keeping things exactly the same, please let me know... that would really interest me.

In the meantime, please watch this http://www.ebaumsworld.com/video/watch/118674/.
(My apologies, I tried to embed this video, but couldn't get the link to work.)

Wrestling... was it right?

2008-01-07T08:10:00.000-08:00

On Saturday my gal and I planned to meet my mom and sister, who live in Rochester, at the Mall of America for a bite to eat and to catch up. My gal and I decided that we would take the opportunity to give Light Rail Transit a try. I had ridden the LRT before, as had my wife, but we hadn't ridden it very far, so we drove from our home to downtown Minneapolis to catch the train.

When we got to the train platform at Nicollet Mall and approached the ticket machine, a homeless man, who smelled heavily of alcohol, asked us for some change, which we did not have. Between the two of us we had only a $20 bill, which I took out of my wallet to pay for our train tickets. The homeless man saw this, and immediately began helping me by hitting the correct buttons on the machine for us to buy our tickets. As he was doing this, he asked that he could have some of our change, and I agreed. He also, at this point, leaned in and gave my wife an unsolicited hug. She was cordial.

While our tickets were printing and the change was dropping ($17 in dollar coins), the homeless man went over and stood in the doorway of the train to hold the train for us. I then gathered our change, walked over to the train, and handed the man one of the dollar coins. After handing him the coin and thanking him, he kept his hand out, and I kept walking. He then bumped into me, saying "C'mon man! More!" I looked him in the eye and said "No sir." He then gave me one of the most angry looks that I've ever gotten from a stranger as I walked to my seat next to my wife.

Did I do the right thing? I replayed this incident over and over in my head as we rode down the tracks toward the Mall of America. Friends of mine who have worked closely with the homeless have told me that if you feel like giving change to someone who asks for it, that is fine. But that you should not feel obligated, and that it is okay to say no.

Generally, if I have some change in my pocket, and am asked for change by a homeless person, I will give it to them and they have been generally thankful. I have also said no if I didn't have any change, and in this situation I can recall two times where the man asking got angry with me for saying no.

But after this situation, I just didn't know what was right. I wondered over and over again if I had done the right thing. Should I have given him more money? Should I have given him no money at all? What could, or should, I have done differently?

Part of me feels guilty for not giving him more money, because he did help us out. By the same token, however, I was not giving him the money because he helped us.

Am I rationalizing here? Did I completely screw this situation up? I would VERY MUCH appreciate any feedback that you might have on this... please respond.

The trials of the married man

2008-01-01T17:43:00.000-08:00

When I got married I knew that I would often encounter situations that would be new to me. I knew some of these situations would be fun, exciting and maybe even life changing. Then again, there would also be some that would be strange, awkward and uncomfortable.

Today I experienced one such uncomfortable experience.

I have visited the "unmentionables" section of the store with my wife before, but today was something quite different. First of all, men, do you have any idea... I mean do you have any frickin' clue whatsoever, how much a bra costs? My goodness! I could put a 1/2 a tank of gas into my truck for the amount that it costs to buy ONE bra... and my tank holds 22 gallons!!! This new information would have been enough for me to learn today. Having to digest the shear cost of the items that women wear UNDER their clothes would have been plenty for me to have to choke down today. But there was more.

Standing in the unmentionable section of the store with your wife is, in and of itself, uncomfortable. Even if she doesn't ask you any questions about what she is looking at, even if you don't look at the price tags, and even if your eye doesn't wander (it will) over to the intimates section of the department... just standing in that department is quite humbling.
As you would imagine, there are bound to be other women in the area, and as you would imagine, they WILL look at you. They are all thinking the same thing... "poor sap." They all know that you don't want to be there... and they all know that you probably don't have much choice. If you're lucky, there will be another poor sap touring the unmentionables with his wife. You'll give each other a knowing nod, then proceed to look down at the floor as you follow your respective wives around, being very careful not to touch... anything.

Inevitably, as women are good at doing, your wife will change her mind. This will likely lead to the two of you making several laps around the entire department where you will get to look at all of the various undergarments that women wear at least twice... probably three times.

If you're lucky, before you leave the unmentionables department, your wife will also want to look at the intimates, and she might even let you pick something out. This pretty much makes the entire trip worth while and will make you feel better about everything you've gone through... until it's time to pay.

At this point in our journey, I invoked my male genes, and pulled the man-walk-away from the cashier and let my wife do the paying. I realize that I am eventually going to know the extent of how much everything cost, but at this point in our journey I was already on sensory overload, and I needed a reprieve.

Perhaps in the future I should do the man-walk-away earlier, not subjecting myself to the experience at all. In the long run I am going to have to weigh the negativity of spending time in the unmentionables section with my wife vs. getting to pick out a new intimate item for her and the benefits therein.

Holy smokes... on turning 30

2007-11-15T10:25:00.000-08:00

It has really been a long time since I posted anything here. My goodness, if anyone is still checking this page, I'm sorry. I've been spending a lot of time blogging on my new project Gopher Football Blog (www.gopherfootball.blogspot.com). If you didn't know I was a Gopher football fan and geek, you do now. I've been trying really hard to keep it up to date, updating daily, and it's been really great. It's only been up and running for just under two months, and it looks like by the time it hits the actual two month mark we'll be at 2,000 hits. Even though it's been a rough season for the Gophs on the field it's been a fun project.

On another note, I'm turning 30 this weekend. Holy smokes. That's weird to say. Some people think I'm getting old... and those people would be right.

Here are some things I've learned in my 30ish years...

*I sort of think the Spanish language has it right. In Spanish birthday is "cumplianos" which literally means to complete a year. If you think about it, this is my 30th birthday, but I've already lived 30 years. I'm finishing my 30th year this weekend. These are the kinds of things you think about when you are old.

*I have to admit this. I think Van Halen is pretty awesome. I've always kind of kept my enjoyment of them a secret, but as I complete my 30th year, I will now come clean. I dig Van Halen, and although I like a lot of the Roth-inspired Van Halen music, I will always think of Van Halen with Sammy Haggar.

*As I'm about to begin my 31st year, I still don't like coffee. I drink it now and then out of necessity, but I don't really like it that much. I need lots of cream and sugar. I had to admit to my wife the other day that sometimes I don't like drinking coffee, sometimes I just like the way I think I might look while holding a travel mug. I suppose I could put some other beverage in the mug, but I don't know, there's a certain mystique that comes with drinking coffee, that I just can't quite grasp. My grandmother, my Nana, even once told me that I needed to grow up and start drinking coffee. I just can't do it regularly.

*Someone in my office today said "30 is the new 20." I hope that's not the case cause at 20 I was a lonely, miserable, self-loathing whiner who felt like the world was, at least slightly, against me. I'm much happier now.

*My wife likes to point out to me when she sees gray hairs either on my head or my eyebrows, etc. This is fun for her. It bothers me only slightly. One day I look forward to a flowing mane of salt & pepper hair which I will most certainly keep in place with an arrosol can of Consort Hair spray, which I will spray on my hair after getting out of the shower and putting on boxers, a tank top, and black socks.

Flying the flag...

2007-09-12T05:55:00.000-07:00

Last night while driving to Bible study I was a bit early, so I decided to take a quick scenic jaunt around Lake Calhoun. It was a beautiful fall-ish night, and there were a lot of walkers, bikers, in-line skaters and runners.
But one particular gentleman caught my eye. He was dressed like any other runner might be on a cool night: shorts, running shoes, a fleece pull-over and a bald head. But it wasn't what he was wearing that caught my eye. It was what he was carrying...
On about a four foot long pole, he was carrying a full-sized American flag.
Now I don't hang out around Lake Calhoun often, and clearly I don't know this man, so I guess that it is possible that he runs around the lake every night flying the flag showing his patriotism. But I think it's more likely that he was flying the flag in honor or 9/11, and I appreciated his gesture.

So, we're back at it again... camper time!!!

2007-07-23T08:16:00.000-07:00

After unloading the last camper project, which was aborted and sold earlier this spring, my wife and I had decided to take the summer off from a camper project. Unfortunately once the camping bug gets in you, it's tough to shake. The grandiose plans that we had for the old camper never left our minds.

But one evening, while in Rochester visiting family just over a week ago, my wife got a text message from her brother telling us that there was a camper for sale in town. By late the next morning we had looked at the camper and decided to buy it. We picked it up last Friday night.

The camper was in good shape when we got it. It was clean, and for being 44 years old it was in very good shape. We could have taken it camping right away, but we had some plans for what we wanted to do to spruce it up and make it our own.

Thanks to a ton of help from my father-and-mother-in-law and brother-in-law, I cannot believe how much we got done in just one weekend. Here are the results of the first weekend.

The outside: 1963 - 14' Trailblazer travel trailer. The awning (not rolled out here) is in great shape. The interior electricity works!!! We are going to need new tires, and the towing lights need attention.

Before: View from the back facing toward the front. The previous owner had been using the camper as a hunting shack (thus the decorations), so the front table had been taken out in order to add more sleeping space.

After: View from the back facing toward the front.

Before: Inside front.

Inside front: My wife made new curtains (maroon material with gold accents). On the floor we took out the old indoor/outdoor carpet and my brother-in-law had the idea to take a piece of1/4" OSB board, cut it to size, stain it cherry, and drill it down as-is for a bit of a rustic look. It looks awesome!!! We will be building benches on each side with a table in the middle that can drop down to make another sleeping area.

Before: Kitchenette area. The faucet had been taken out long ago, and who knows how long since the stove had been used.

Mid-project: Kitchenette area. Stove and sink removed.

After: Kitchenette area. New counter (courtesy of my brother-in-law, not being used in their kitchen any longer). Sink put back in to be used for dumping water/ice-bath for cold beverages. Faux-brick paneling for back & side splash. We decided to do away with the stove all-together.

Before: View from front looking toward back of camper. Notice one piece of plywood had been drilled into place for sleeping.

After: View from front looking toward back of camper. New, and very nice ,indoor carpet (thanks to my sister, leftovers from her townhouse). Cut the sheet of plywood in half and reattached with a piano hinge. Now we can fold it up during the day for additional seating area, and fold it out for sleeping at night.

After: One more picture of the back.

The Streets of Pizza

2007-07-05T11:05:00.000-07:00

If you have not yet (and it's highly possible that you haven't, because prior to 3 days ago, I hadn't either) visited The Pizza Man Blog (www.streetsofpizza.com), you should do so, and do so quickly. I have been spending the better part of this week of shortened work reading the blog, which has been in existence on the City Pages website since March 2005.
Here is a quip, which I found completely hilarious (link here)...

"5 Ways My Pizzacar Is Like Sid Hartman

1 -Seems tired
2 -Is full of shit
3 -Makes undistinguishable noises
4 -Doesn't know jack about football
5 -Somehow, against all reason and logic, keeps going"

Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff.... CRAP!!!

2007-07-02T05:57:00.000-07:00

Last summer, a few weeks before our wedding, the gal and I wanted to buy a boat, but as money was an issue, our budget was very limited. So we decided to buy an inflatable raft.
The raft is rated for 4 people, or 510 pounds. We spent 3-4 afternoons in the boat last summer, and became fond of telling our friends "we spent the day on our boat."
Earlier this summer, I started thinking about the boat, and thinking it might be time for a ride, but my gal didn't seem as fond of the idea this year. So I decided to resurrect my fishing gear, which hadn't been used in at least 2 years, and get some use out of the boat.
So I've taken the boat out a few times fishing since making this decision. I would guess that went out 5-6 times in June, and I've come up with a pretty good little system.
With some night crawlers from the local Ace Hardware, my trusty fishing pole, some chartreuse colored jigs, bobbers, and a couple of cool, frosty, adult beverages, I shove off from the boat landing at the end of our parking lot. I paddle through the lily pads out to the channel the heads from the main lake to the backwaters. There I stop, and figure out which way the wind is blowing as I make sure that my pole is ready. When I figure out which way the wind is blowing, I paddle against it for a little while, and cast into open water. The wind pushes my little inflatable gem around the lake, but the lily pads slow me down a bit, and sometimes I'm lucky enough to get one of the paddles tangled up in some lily pads, giving me time to work the area for an extended period.
I'm not going to lie to you, I've had fun learning to manipulate the boat, the lily pads, and the wind.
But a couple of weeks ago my mom asked me a question that would prove prophetic.
"You go fishing in that inflatable raft? Aren't you afraid you'll pop a hole in it?"
(Caution: famous last words coming up...)
"No. I'm very careful."
You can probably tell where this is going.
So yesterday, the first day of July, I decide that I'm going to go fishing. I had gone out on Saturday, and the weather was beautiful, but the fishing, not so good.
But yesterday, Sunday, I WAS NAILIN' 'EM!!! (That's something real fishermen say, right?)
I never catch anything big except for bullheads, but yesterday I was catching crappies and bluegills, just the little guys, like it was going out of style. I had gotten myself purposely tangled up in some lily pads and found myself a little honey hole where I was catching the little tykes on almost every cast.
But as per usual, a stupid bullhead had to ruin everything.
Now I don't know a lot about fish, but I do know that my dad taught me that you shouldn't handle a bullhead with your bare hands. I fancy myself a boyscout of sorts, so I was prepared for this situation. I bring with me on the boat two sets of pliers. One to hold the bullhead's mouth, the other to work the hook out. This technique has worked flawlessly at least 10 times, and had already worked 3 times on Sunday.
So there I am, with both sets of pliers, about to work the hook out of the bullheads mouth, when I hear a frightening sound... "pffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff."
I look down and I find a very small cut in the yellow material, which I decide to put my finger over. However, doing this alarms me to a different and louder "PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF."
CRAP!!!!!
There is a much larger slice in the material just a few inches away.
Now realize, I am 20 feet from the shore, but a good 75 feet from the shore where I actually live.
I panic slightly, but react quickly. I drop the fish into the water, I grab the line with my bare hands and snap it, letting the fish go with the hook still in his lip (sorry PETA). I then take my position for rowing, and as I begin to row... the oar in my left hand comes apart.
As I see the oar floating away, listening to the air slowly releasing from my raft, I realize... this isn't good.
I made the quick decision to head to the shore further away, because if I went to the closer one I was going to end up in someone's yard, and that didn't seem like a good option at the time.
So... I pull the other oar out of the eye hole, sit up in the raft on my knees (not an easy task in itself) and begin to row back and forth from side to side like I was rowing a canoe. This most likely looked completely ridiculous to anyone who might have been watching (which is hopefully nobody), because it was pretty much impossible to keep a strait line to the shore. Still, it looked like I was making some good headway, so my panic started to subside... until I hit the lily pads.
The lily pads slowed my progress and momentum considerably and I started to get nervous again. Please realize, at this point, that I was not doing any math in my head and wasn't probably thinking completely rationally, as adrenaline had most definitely set in. It did not occur to me that such a small cut would take an incredibly long time to let out the amount of air that was in the raft. All I knew was that the air was coming out, I had only one oar, and I need to get to shore as quickly as possible.
In any case, I made it to the shore, not far from our apartment, but blocked by a fence, so I couldn't get to our garage. I decided to call my wife to bring the pick up to come get me.
This might have been a bad decision.
As if I don't already have enough trouble living down the fact that I weekly go fishing in an inflatable raft with night crawlers and beer; as if my wife didn't already think I was slightly reckless and clumsy; and as if I wasn't already going to have a difficult enough time explaining to her how I could possibly pop the boat... I had to also get her involved in the situation.
When she arrived I threw the raft in the back of the pick up, and since I was all wet and muddy from bringing the boat onto shore, she was good enough to allow me to ride in the back of my own pick up.
So now I'm going to have to fish from the shore like everyone else who doesn't have a real boat.
Unless I can patch those holes and find a new oar...
(to be continued)

Letting Go...

2007-04-27T09:41:00.000-07:00

Last July I wrote about our camper, and since that time it's been a common question: "How are things going with that camper?"
Well today I have a very definitive and final answer...
It is with some sadness that I report: By the end of this upcoming weekend the camper will be sold.
The various hard luck stories about the camper were not always chronicled on these pages. There was one, but that was it. What I never told you, my readers, is that after the maiden voyage of the camper, it sat for several weeks before we had more time to spend working on it. And when that time finally came, the (as I've quickly found out) biggest nightmare of a pop-up camper owner became my reality: water damage.
That's correct, all of the work put into sealing the roof, and replacing the ceiling was for naught. Seeing that mold haunts me to this day.
So the camper spent the winter in our garage, where it got in the way, where I had to pull it half of the way out whenever I wanted to get to my tools, or the tailgating equipment, or the Christmas decorations. And last weekend, when we decided to do some spring cleaning of the garage, it was decided, after much deliberation, that it was time to part ways.
Here are the factors that entered into the decision, in no particular order:

* The leaky roof. It was everyone's belief that the roof could be fixed. We had come to grips with the fact that the fix might be unsightly, but having it water tight was most important. Adding this problem, however, with the other issues, started to seem crippling.
* The broken door. The door to get into the camper eventually worked it's way to the point that it would not latch shut, meaning duct tape was required to hold it shut. Add to that problem....
* The broken door lock. Last summer before the maiden voyage I took the camper to a locksmith in hope of making the door lockable. He wasn't even able to get the old lock off of the door, as the screws were stripped, meaning that in order to access the lock, we'd have to take the door apart. I've learned, now, that a lot of things made in the 70's of metal were bound together using rivets, and in order to remove rivets you must, in essence, break them, making them useless after the fact. It was beginning to look like our only option with this door was to have a new one made (translation: $$$$$$$$$$), or take it off and find a new solution. I didn't like either of these ideas.
* The dog. Since last summer we have added a dog to our little family. The nice thing about a camper when you have a dog is that you can lock the family pet in the camper if you want to go for a long hike, or run to the store, etc. This was going to be impossible with this camper.
* The crank. The camper cranked up, which is a good start with a pop-up, but it was very very difficult to do so. My wife physically could not crank it, and it was very very difficult of me (not a small man) as well. My wife was never going to be able to use the camper without me, and who knows if this problem may have gotten worse over time.
* Decorating. Even if we had been able to fix the items that needed fixing, and been able to live with the problems that couldn't be fixed, the camper was still completely gutted out. Benches, counters, cushions all still needed to be built and/or sewn. The amount of money that we would have had to continue to put into the camper for materials seemed huge.
* It's 31 years old. After assessing all of the above issues, there was still the glaring age issue. The camper is incredibly old and it had not been very well taken care of. Although we eliminated the majority of what could become increasing problems in the future, who knows what the next thing would have been. We had already lost a few work days from a broken cable last summer. What could be next?

Although it was a hard decision, because of the time, money and sweat that had already been put into the project, based on all of the factors, it wasn't difficult to see it might be time to part ways. I figured someone with more handyman abilities might be looking for a project, or someone could use it for their hunting land.
I found a buyer on CraigsList. And he has the perfect solution. He's going to tow it to his hunting land, and it's going to sit there. He's going to cover the roof with a huge sheet of rubber, he won't have to fix the door because the camper will be set up at all times, and he's not going to have to put any money into decorating it, because it will never be used for anything but sleeping.
I'm glad we have found a rightful owner.

Is she serious?

2007-04-24T12:28:00.000-07:00

"I have spent the better part of this tour trying to come up with easy ways for us all to become a part of the solution to global warming. Although my ideas are in the earliest stages of development, they are, in my mind, worth investigating. I propose a limitation be put on how many squares of toilet paper can be used in any one sitting." -- Sheryl Crow

2007-04-20T06:17:00.000-07:00

*I found a link to a great website this week. www.stoprosie.com. The site is dedicated to putting an end to Rosie O'Donnell's constant bad-mouthing of... well, pretty much anything she feels like ranting about.
She's made some disparaging comments about the President, America, Christianity ("radical Christianity is just as threatening as radical Islam"), and has openly opined that perhaps 9/11 was a hoax. The site is worth checking out, and there's a petition that you can sign. In my opinion anyone who slings arrows like thiswithout factual basis does not deserve a platform from which to speak.

*Another fun website that a co-worker brought to my attention: www.freetraficant.com. James Traficant is an absolute nut, and whether or not you take (or maybe took) him seriously, you have to find the quotes page funny. Anyone who regularly yells "BEAM ME UP" on the floor of Congress deserves a good laugh. My personal favorite quote: "Think about it. While 60 percent of taxpayer calls to the IRS go unanswered, the IRS agents were watching Marilyn Chambers do the Rotary International. Beam me up here. It is time to pass a flat 15 percent sales tax and abolish this gambling, porno-watching IRS completely."

Random Thoughts

2007-04-11T12:00:00.000-07:00

*A personal thank you to everyone with kids who has decided to go the blog or website route with posting pictures of your little ones. I must get 3-4 emails a week with no explanation, just 5-10 pictures of someone's kid. (Yeah, that's right, you know who you are!) I don't have kids of my own, but I like children, but honestly, do you need to send new pictures every week through email? Did I ask for these? (Was I insensitive just now?)

*It always makes my day when I'm listening to Yahoo Music and a Joe Walsh song comes on. I'm particularly fond of "Rocky Mountain Way," "Life's Been Good To Me So Far," and "A Life of Illusion."

*Cynical Comment of the Day: A guy that I just talked to on the phone said to me, "It's always a pleasure to talk with you." I don't believe him.

*These are the kinds of conversations that I sometimes have throughout the day with Jeff on instant messenger. Just thought you should know...
Jeff says (3:11 PM):
Phil Collins would like you to take, take him home because he doesn't remember. He's saying it repeatedly
Jeremy Miller x5032 says (3:14 PM):
damn him, i'll have to take him home and remind him
Jeff says (3:14 PM):
please do
Jeff says (3:14 PM):
he seems to really mean it

Surprising...

2007-03-30T08:08:00.000-07:00

In my work I talk to dozens of people every single day. Sometimes the names are interesting, sometimes familiar.
Recently I came across Steve Martin. I commented to my cube neighbor that I should have said to Steve after our business conversation, "Also, Mr. Martin, on a personal level, I'd just like to say that I'm a huge fan of your movies."
My neighbor told me that he thinks Steve Martin sucks.
I was shocked, how could anyone possibly think this? I asked him, "are you serious?!?!?!" He was totally serious. "Come on," I said, What about 'The Jerk'?"
He didn't even like "The Jerk."
This prompted me to do some research, and the results were surprising.
It turns out that the guy I was talking with at work is 5 years younger than me. This fact isn't significant, except that it just might mean that his perception of the work of Steve Martin might be much more recent than mine.
So I took a look at Martin's recent movies, and if I had to judge Steve Martin solely on what he has done in the last, say, 10 years, I would have to agree... he sucks.
"Bowfinger," "Cheaper by the Dozen" (1 and 2), "The Out of Towners," "Bringing Down the House," just to name a few. It's clear that he's been spending his time writing books, as the book "Shopgirl" (haven't seen the movie version yet, so can't comment on it) is better than any of those movies. I have also read a couple of Martin's other writing ventures and I've been impressed. I specifically liked "The Pleasure of my Company."
As it turns out, speaking strictly of movies, Steve Martin peaked in the late 80's. He had a nice little run from '86 (starting with the all-time great "Three Amigos") to '91. Two of my top 4 Steve Martin movies ended that time period with "L.A. Story" and "My Blue Heaven" both coming out in 1991.
Unfortunately I'm probably going to have to throw Steve Martin's movies in the same bucket with Chevy Chase: there's some gems in there, but overall, not a great career.
This is, of course, only my opinion. I'm sure someone will disagree with me.

The New Math?

2007-02-27T14:36:00.000-08:00

I got a good, hearty laugh today when my cousin sent me some pictures over email. The title of the email: MY KIND OF MATH.

Shatner!!!

2007-02-21T07:11:00.000-08:00

I have to say, for shear entertainment value there are few people, for me, that beat the over-confident dead-pan delivery of William Shatner. Here's a snippet from a recent Time article that almost sent me falling off of the elipticle machine this morning.
"Babylon 5 actress Claudia Christian recently gave an interview in which she accused you of once making advances on the set of T.J. Hooker."
Shatner: "Well, who am I to tell a lady that she's a liar. I have no recollection. I'm sure it was memorable for her, though."

Year End Madness

2006-12-28T07:44:00.000-08:00

Tis the season to count things down. The best of... The worst of... 2006!!!
I was looking over BBC News' Top 100 Things We Didn't Know Last Year list.

Here are some highlights:

*It seems that the average teenager (at least in the UK) has a vocabulary that is dominated by about 20 words, such as "like," "but," and "yeah." But that's not important. What's important is the picture that accompanied the story.

*Interesting facts about cheddar cheese:
-The US Department of Agriculture even tracks cheddar's price levels to determine the health of the American dairy industry.
-The Cheddar Gorge Cheese Company is the only cheddar cheese-maker still in Cheddar, the village where the cheese was invented.

*Cows might have their own distinct accents. A scientist had this to say: "In small populations such as herds you would encounter identifiable dialectical variations which are most affected by the immediate peer group." In related news, it's possible that scientists have too much time on their hands.

*Almost half of the people in Britain that own land-line phones do not have their name & number in the directory (48%). Here in the U.S. you have to pay to have your name removed from the directory.

*The most recent Oxford Dictionary lists the 100 most used nouns in the English language. The top 10 are as follows:
1 Time
2 Person
3 Year
4 Way
5 Day
6 Thing
7 Man
8 World
9 Life
10 Hand

*Chicken or the Egg? "A geneticist, a philosopher and a chicken farmer say they have found the answer to a great evolutionary puzzle... the long-standing debate over which came first - the chicken or the egg - and opted for the egg." From the Department of the Obvious, Professor David Papineau had this to say: "I would argue it is a chicken egg if it has a chicken in it. If a kangaroo laid an egg from which an ostrich hatched, that would surely be an ostrich egg, not a kangaroo egg." Does this mean it's possible that a kangaroo hatched the first chicken egg, which produced the first chicken?

Babble...

2006-12-08T08:14:00.000-08:00

Sorry it's been so long since I posted, for all 4 of you that read this blog. It's been a busy fall.
Starting after the wedding I had been looking for a new job, which was keeping me busy up until the time that I actually got the new job (end of October). At that point looking for a new job was no longer keeping me busy. But here's the thing, actually having a new job, and trying to learn the new job, that keeps me pretty busy too.

Thoughts about working in corporate America:

*My current 9 a.m. pretzel habit is costing me $3.25/week. It's not a cheap habit, but I figure, compared to crack it's not bad.

*I'm shocked by the number of conversations that happen in the men's room. Don't get me wrong, I don't see anyone "sneakin'-a-peek" or anything, but there is a significant number of conversations that go on while men are peeing. And these aren't always conversations about sports. Sometimes they lean toward the significant in terms of business conversation. I don't know if I'll ever be comfortable with this, but I fear that I must. I asked my manager the other day, "how can I meet the right people and get to know them?" His response: "Say hi around the office... introduce yourself while you are in the bathroom." Sigh.

*It's absolutely staggering to me how many distractions there are at work when you spend your entire day in front of a computer screen. Like, blogging, for example.

*I thought that I might experience quite a bit of the scenes in "Office Space" at my new job, but truthfully, the only thing that is similar to the movie is the fact that I do, actually, sit in a cubical to do my job. I am, of course, highly disappointed in the fact that I don't have a Swingline stapler and in the fact that there is actually upward opportunity in my current job.

*One thing I haven't quite mastered yet is the art of elevator culture. When I am the only one on the elevator and someone else gets on at a different floor, am I supposed to say hello to that person? When I get off of the elevator am I supposed to say "have a good day"? What if I wasn't talking to that person prior to getting off of the elevator? Where am I supposed to stand on the elevator? I prefer the back left corner as I am facing the door, but should I be standing next to the buttons as the lone rider? Should I stand next to, or as far away from, other riders as possible? If two other people are having a conversation, based on our proximity, they know I can hear their conversation, am I allowed to pipe in? Am I expected to pipe in if one of them makes eye contact with me?

Like Cheers, But With Breakfast

2006-09-30T08:42:00.000-07:00

Shortly after my wife and I got married we were tooling around the suburb we call home, Robbinsdale. I don't recall what the conversation was that lead to it, but while running errands my wife said to me: "The next time we are looking for someplace to eat, I'd like to try the restaurant at Merwin Drug."
I was confused. Or, in the words of my grandpa (who tends to have a way with them): "I beg yer puddin'?"
It seemed that my gal had a particular memory of visiting her Great Grandmother in Iowa, and when she would visit they would always have a meal at the cafe inside of a local drug store where she lived.
I vaguely remember that Woolworth's, inside Apache Mall in Rochester had a cafe. But Woolworth's closed when I was still in elementary school, and I don't believe that I ever ate there.
Despite my lack of common ground on this memory I was willing to give it a shot.
It wasn't until several weeks later that we finally stopped over to Merwin Drug for breakfast one Saturday morning, and in the back we found a nice little place called Oodles.
There's nothing special about Oodles on first glance. A light green motif in seating and carpet, average lighting, an adequate menu and a mostly over 50 clientele.
The things that set Oodles apart were the things that you wouldn't see unless you sat down, at a meal, and observed what was going on around you.
Oodles employs a man in, I'm guessing, his late 30's who knows almost all of the guests, who loves baseball, who hands you a section of the newspaper without saying a word when you walk in, and who also happens to be mentally handicapped.
Either of the male hosts who we came in contact with, both young men in their late teens, engage the regular guests in conversation and seem to genuinely enjoy their jobs. They ask only questions that are necessary. How many? Is a booth okay? Coffee?
The waitresses are friendly and polite, but not pushy and overbearing. They let you order your breakfast, like the hosts, they ask only the necessary questions, and they move on. They say things like, "the hollandaise sauce is especially delicious today... I had a cup for breakfast," and "oh, you're going to love that." They remember that they've seen you before, but they don't pry, and they don't marvel at their own ability to remember a guest.
While my wife is almost always content to build her own omelet, rolled not baked, I became quite partial to the eggs benedict. The eggs benny at Oodles far outduels the large breakfast houses, and is generally covered in so much hollandaise sauce that there's always enough left for the hashbrowns, and even the cantaloupe on the side gets a little taste.
The food at Oodles NEVER disappoints.
There's only one disappointing thing about Oodles...
It's gone.
On Friday September 22, Oodles served it's last breakfast.
Accross Highway 81 from Merwin Drug there is, and has been for many years, a Walgreen's. Although Walgreen's has a national presence, Merwin was able to hold it's own, most definitely because of the older clientele that frequented Merwin and it's cafe partner, Oodles.
However, another national player in the drugstore game, CVS Pharmacy began building a brand new monstrosity of a store just a block from Merwin Drug, and although every employee at Oodles, to a person, believed that Merwin could survive it's new neighbor, Merwin Drug decided to close it's doors.
The employees of Oodles told us they were sad to see it go. My wife and I had the impression that it's likely that Oodles was a major reason that Merwin was able to stay open as long as it did, so I imagine that the folks from Oodles had a sense of pride about what they were doing. Keeping an old-style cafe alive, while carrying a dying business on it's shoulders.
But the unfortunate truth is that without Merwin Drug in the front, there can be no Oodles in the back.
We found out about the closing about 2 weeks before it actually happened, and although we were not able to make it to Oodles on it's final day, we did make it there three more times before it closed. To the bitter end Oodles was fantastic in all of the areas that we had come to love.
We were upset by the closing of Oodles. Most notably, my wife became quite angry, actually borderline violent. She has vowed to cook herself breakfast every Saturday morning and go to CVS Pharmacy and eat her breakfast on the sidewalk in front of the store, as a protest and homage to Oodles and Merwin Drug. I have agreed to join her when it is possible for me.
I think I struggle with capitalism. Certainly I'm disappointed to see our favorite and, for us, shortlived breakfast destination gone. But if I told you that I wasn't going to shop at CVS, where I can get my prescriptions at a discount and our various domestic odds and ends conveniently, I'd be lying to you.
And that's the problem, the same reason that we love the Walmart's and the CVS Pharmacy's of the world, is the same reason that we want to hate them. Does boycotting a store like this, spending more of our hard earned money somewhere else in protest, make a dent? Does Walmart feel it? Will they cease to "roll back prices" so that they can pay their workers higher wages, or offer them better benefits? Will CVS stop opening a pharmacy on every corner? For every monstrous national pharmacy that opens, how many Mom & Pop drug stores close? They close because they can't compete with the national player's low prices, but can we be blamed for wanting our goods at lower prices?
The Walmart's of the world are a juggernaut because they give the public exactly what it is screaming for: quality products at reasonable, and sometimes ridiculously low, prices. And yet the very thing that we scream for, the thing that allows them their success, the niche that they have found, is the very thing that we blame them for exploiting. Where's the balance? Can we expect CVS to build its newest pharmacy more than 2 miles from the nearest Mom & Pop drugstore so that we can save the hometown storefronts? Where does it end? Shouldn't we also then bar them from opening within 2 miles of the nearest Walgreen's as well?
I don't know the answers. I just know that I want a place where I can get a nice eggs benny at a reasonable price and the waitress might remember me. But if she doesn't, that's okay, I can't expect her to. The 15 year old cashier at CVS doesn't remember me either.

I've been Tagged?

2006-08-15T08:36:00.000-07:00

Apparently B-Lorge tagged me. I didn't really know what this meant, in fact, it's safe to say that I still pretty much don't... but I just looked at his blog, and I'm guessing I'm supposed to answer these questions about books. This might be embarrassing.
1. One book that changed your life: "Wild at Heart" by John Eldredge
2. One book you've read more than once: "No One Here Gets Out Alive" (Jim Morrison biography) by Danny Sugarman & Jerry Hopkins
3. One book you'd want on a desert island: Bible
4. One book that made you laugh: "Sick Puppy" by Carl Hiassen
5. One book that made you cry: "To Own a Dragon: Refletions on Growing Up Without a Father" by Donald Miller & John MacMurray
6. One book you wish had been written: A book looking at how American culture is always looking for who to blame.
7. One book you wish had never been written: pass
8. One book you're currently reading: "Pure Drivel" by Steve Martin & "Ugly Americans: The true story of the Ivy League Cowboys who raided the Asian Markets for millions." by Ben Mezrich
9. One book you've been meaning to read: "Buck Naked Faith: A Brutally Honest Look At Stunted Christianity" by Eric Sandras
10. Now tag 5 people: Besides the people that have already been tagged, I don't even know 5 other bloggers, so I will pass.

Camper Update

2006-08-10T08:47:00.000-07:00

Barring any unforeseen setbacks, we should be making the maiden voyage with the camper this weekend! It will be a short trip, just a one-nighter, but it should be a good sign of adventures to come.
We did have a setback last week that basically cost us a whole day. One of the 30 year old cables that helps to crank and hold the camper roof up, snapped, causing one of the roof corners to fall. It took us an hour in the dark with a flashlight on a Wednesday night just to figure out where the actual breakage had happened. It then took us all of Thursday to fix the problem, and part of Sunday to get it back to as close to new as possible.
Besides all of that, structurally the camper is basically done. The only thing that is really left is getting cabinets and benches built/installed. We have decided to change the original layout of the camper, taking away some counter space and adding more bench seating, which will of course complicate the process slightly.
Once this is done it will be on to decorating. We have already put some maroon (technically it's burgundy) carpeting over the bunks to cover the plywood, and we will be purchasing some maroon vinyl for seat covers. In addition all of the masonite used on the walls will be painted maroon and gold, the ceiling will be painted gold, and the new cross beams (2x6's) will be painted maroon. Eventually the outside will be painted maroon with gold accents, and hopefully the name of the camper will be changed from Yorktown to Gophertown!
Giddy-up!!!

Camper Crazy?

2006-07-27T20:20:00.000-07:00

My brother-in-law bought a camper last spring that would barely have passed for a make-shift hunting shack on a good day. It was a 1970-something Jayco and he purchased it with a project in mind. Within months it was cleaned up and ready to camp, and now a little over a year later it's one of the coolest refurbished campers you could ever see. My brother-in-law, along with my father-in-law, are two of the more handy people that I've ever known, and they did all of the work themselves.
Tonya and I had interest in finding a camper to re-do as well and we recruited the help of her brother in finding a suitable candidate to work on. Unfortunately the gem that he had found seemed to be a once-in-a-lifetime find.
But a couple of weeks ago he called us up and said that Tonya's other brother had an old pop-up camper that he was looking to get rid of for dirt cheap. Nobody seemed to have any idea what kind of shape it was really in, what year it was, or what make it was. Nonetheless we made a trip down to Rochester to check it out.
I can tell you now that the camper was a 1976 Coleman Yorktown pop-up. I can also tell you that for $50 and a Kenwood bookshelf stereo, my wife and I made this camper our own!
Being that I'm not the handiest guy in the world, Tonya's brother assured me that this beat-up old Coleman had lots of potential. The structure was solid, and anything that wasn't solid could be replaced.
So last weekend we headed back down to Rochester to begin work on the camper. I thought it would be a good idea to get it cleaned up, and see what we were working with, but my brother & father-in-law had different ideas. GUT IT!!! Which we did.
By noon on Saturday the ceiling was out, the linoleum (both layers) was out, the cabinets were out, and the bed cushions were in the dumpster. In short, anything that wasn't a part of the skeletal structure of the camper was out. And the rest, as they say, will be history. By the end of the weekend my brother & father-in-law had a new ceiling with new cross braces put in, and new sub-flooring put in. Even after Tonya and I had to leave on Sunday morning because I had to work in the afternoon, they kept working on the camper. I figure one of three things is happening... Possibility #1: They are annoyed with my lack of mechanical skill and getting my fumbling hands out of the way provided a light at the end of the tunnel. Possibility #2: They are actually as excited about the project as I am and are actually enjoying doing the work. Possibility #3: My mother & father-in-law want our camper out of their yard and they know it's probably not going anywhere until it is semi-finished, so they forge ahead to get to the project's completion.
My money is on #3.
I'm not quite sure how I talked my wife into it, but the theme of the camper is going to be Minnesota Golden Gopher maroon & gold! So far almost everyone who we've told about the decorating idea has loved it. The exception was my mother & father-in-law's mailman, who we figured must be from Iowa. The hope is that the camper could make a tailgating appearance or two, but once it's folded out it's quite large, so I'm not 100% sure this is feasible. At the very least the deco should prove to be a great conversation piece, and will, of course, give me much pride. My wife is turning out to be quite the sports fan as well, so I'm hoping that she loves it as much as she seems to be looking forward to it so far.
Suddenly every free moment that I have on the internet is spent reading about pop-up campers, modifications that others have made on theirs, tips, tricks and places to camp. It's official, I'm camper crazy. Good thing or bad thing? The jury is still out.
I'm hoping to get some pictures posted of the "before" camper, soon.

Wedded Bliss

2006-07-07T07:11:00.000-07:00

It's over! All of the stress and anxiety and waiting... it's all over. I'm married! It feels good. It's unreal, but it FEELS GOOOOOD! It was touch and go there for awhile, I think one, or both of us, was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, but here we are, two weeks after the fact, and marriage is nice.
The bachelor party, the rehearsal, the rehearsal dinner, the ceremony and the reception all went fantastically well. We had several people tell us that it was one of the most fun weddings they had ever been to, which felt good because besides actually getting married, making sure that everyone was going to have a laid-back good time was our main objective.
I was a blubbering crying idiot pretty much the entire day leading up to the ceremony and throughout most of the ceremony itself. I told my mom that I thought I might be having my period, I was so damn emotional. I couldn't explain it. In addition to the general emotion of ones wedding day, I was also overcome by extreme exhaustion from the bachelor party having been on Thursday night, and the "festivities" following the rehearsal dinner on Friday night. Despite not going to bed until after 2:00 in the morning, Saturday morning I was wide awake and eating breakfast in the hotel lobby by 7:30 a.m. I woke up at 7:00 and I was wide awake, there was no chance I was falling back to sleep. I will say this: on my last night as a single man I was lucky enough to share a bed with Blaine, and in no way was it awkward. Still, nothing could keep me in the bed that morning. It was my wedding day, and I couldn't wait to be married.
Highlights (or lowlights, depending on your perspective):
Tonya really stole the show on our wedding day. Standing up front waiting for her to come down the aisle, I started crying massive tears the minute I could see her. She, of course, was completely calm and all smiles. We wrote our own vows, and when she got up front she asked me if I had mine, which I did, in my pocket. When I asked her where hers were she pointed to her (ahem!) cleavage... all I could say was "You're kidding right?" She wasn't. When time for the vows came and she pulled out the paper, of course, everyone laughed. Immediately after getting up on the stage with me she started complaining about how bad her feet hurt. I told her to take her shoes off, thinking that she might just step out of them where she was... instead she took them off and walked to the side of the stage to leave them for later, prompting a huge laugh from everyone again. When I wrote my vows to Tonya, I wanted to have one funny line in there to show our sense of humor, but when we shared our vows with each other a couple of days before the wedding Tonya's was WAY funnier than mine. I threatened to change mine, adding more punchlines, but I decided to let her have the humor spotlight, thinking that I'd pretty much be hogging it the rest of our lives together. When the pastor finally pronounced us man and wife, Tonya was so anxious to get her shoes that I had to remind her to kiss me. As she walked over to get her shoes before we walked back out of the church as husband and wife, I turned to the pastor and said, "I'm sure it's not the last time I'll be waiting for her to do that."
After the ceremony anxiousness was past, there was a very cold beer waiting for me on the bus. Perhaps the best tasting beer I've even partaken of in my life. After that pictures were pretty effortless.
Once we arrived at the reception, immediately after we walked inside, a monsoon started outside that was unbelievable. You couldn't see a thing. However, not an hour later it was beautiful and sunny outside. The reception was held at a golf course, and when the rain started all of the people that had been on the driving range abandoned their range balls to head for shelter. One of the coolest things that happened was once it got nice outside, several people went to their cars to get their golf clubs, and for the next hour and a half there was a huge crowd of people out on the driving range hitting golf balls, smoking cigars, enjoying beverages and having an overall good time. It was the kind of thing that you couldn't have predicted happening, but it was exactly the kind of atmosphere that we wanted.
I think my favorite part of the whole day is the fact that besides myself I don't think anyone was nervous or anxious, and I don't think anyone was uncomfortable at any point. It was great!
I was also happy that one of my groomsman ended up wearing his tie around his head, and a groomsman ended up walking around the reception drinking directly from a bottle of wine. Both of those groomsmen were Chris.
Overall I don't think I saw anyone who wasn't having a great time!
Marriage is good, but more on that later...

Blue about "Blue..."

2006-05-17T08:46:00.000-07:00

I finished reading "Blue Like Jazz" last week. I've turned into a bit more of a reader over the past year, and I'm not really sure why that is. In any case, I've discovered this new phenomena for me with books. I have now read three books in a row that I have become so attached to while reading them that when I was done reading them, not only was I sad, but I missed the books. I felt like I had moved away from a really close friend. I actually missed the books. "Blue Like Jazz" was the third in this new feeling for me.
I wanted to share one of my favorite paragraphs from "Blue..."
"Too much of our time is spent trying to chart God on a grid, and too little is spent allowing our hearts to feel awe. By reducing Christian spirituality to formula, we deprive our hearts of wonder."
There's some people out there that can believe in God, or can embrace spirituality, only if it makes sense to them on an intellectual level. I am the opposite of those people, and this is a strange thing for me to admit. I think that most people who know me would say that I am one of the more rational thinking people that they know. If something makes sense rationally then it makes sense to me, but if it doesn't seem rational to me then I reject it. But this isn't the case for me when it comes to embracing Christian spirituality. I don't know why this is.
But when I think about God, when I think about spirituality, I just don't see any way that you can reduce it down to something intellectual, and something rational, withouth acknowledging the fact that it's not rational, and intellectually it doesn't make sense. The only way God makes sense to me is when he speaks to my heart.
Here's something that I've always believed to be true: At the end of the day, whether I'm doubting God's plan for me, or even if I'm doubting his very existence, I cannot look at the people around me, I cannot look at trees, lakes and rivers, and think that all of those things "just happened." There's nothing beautiful about that, there's no poetry in the "big bang." And that's the thing that reminds me that God is real, and reminds me why I believe in God. There's too much well thought out beauty out there and intricacy in the people around me for me to believe in anything other than a loving and creative God who puts it all in front of us in order to inspire us to thank him.
Sometimes I feel like there's too much theology in Christian spirituality. I'm sure that sounds like a ridiculous statement. What I mean is that when we reduce our faith down to our theology we put ourselves in a box, and inevitably we will reduce other people's faith down to their theology, putting them also into a box. Suddenly all we have to do when we meet someone is ask them about their theology and, if we know enough about it, we can put them into a neat little box and feel like we never really have to get to know the real person, because we know what they believe. But what about what they think about what they believe? How did they come to that point? What do they feel about what they believe? Why does it work for them?
I will digress slightly. I guess what I'm saying is that I agree with Donald Miller when he says that we spend too much time putting God on a grid, and too little time allowing our hearts to feel awe. The president of CBC said that he believes that we never get closer to God than we do through other people, and I believe that. I feel like in order to get close to God, in order to understand Him and really get close to his heart we have to allow ourselves to get close to people, regardless of what their theology is, and just wonder in the fact that God has created that person.
I've been feeling closer to God lately, and these types of things are more important to me lately, and there is no doubt in my mind why this is happening. I am experiencing a love on this earth like I have never experienced before in my relationship with my fiance. Love comes from God. I am experiencing first hand, on this earth, the closest thing that I could ever tangibly experience to the love of God. What I mean is, I can't hug God, I can't hold God, but when I hug my fiance the feelings that I get are a kind of love that I cannot measure, and I can barely understand. And all of those feelings are barely even a glimpse of how much God loves me.
I don't claim to be the smartest guy around, and even though God and spirituality don't always make sense to me, the love that I feel from God through my fiance makes sense. In the words of Chuckie Sullivan in "Good Will Hunting," "I don't know much, but I know that."

Don't Call It A Comeback

2006-05-05T05:46:00.001-07:00

To all three of my loyal readers, my sincerest apologies for not having written since (as Yod so astutely pointed out) February. As with before my energies have been largely focused on wedding related events, and my blogging time has been dedicated to Midwest Sports Rubes. So very sorry.
As an update: Wedding planning is going well. All of the big stuff is behind us, the invitations have been sent and several RSVP's have been received. We are down to the details at this point. We have a place to live (Robbinsdale). My special lady will be moving in on June 1, and I will be moving in after the wedding. For awhile, during my hiatus, I had been trying to get some pictures of us posted on this blog, but everytime I tried I couldn't get anything to upload, so I gave up. Maybe I'll give that another shot here soon. As for the honeymoon, there is zero chance that I will be broadcasting our honeymoon plans on the World Wide Web (invented by Al Gore).
In other spring related news...
I have played golf twice this spring.
Porta's bachelor party is this weekend and it should be a jazz of a time (not sure where that phrase came from... "jazz"). 12-14 dudes at a cabin in the woods with no plumbing and no electricity. Delightful!!!
I am currently reading "Blue Like Jazz," by Donald Miller. I'm quite enjoying it. I really like his plain talk style, and I also really appreciate his honesty. It feels like some of Miller's struggles through faith and life in general parallel some of mine. A close friend bought me a copy of "Through Painted Desserts," also by Donald Miller as an engagement gift and I thought that it was one of the most fantastic things I had ever read, so when I got done reading it I had to go out and get "Blue..." Here's the deal: I'm a simple guy. I like books that I can connect with, that speak to my heart and my head, without being OVER my head. I don't think there's enough authors, or Christians for that matter, who are honest about their struggles with faith and questions about God. That's why I loved "Through Painted Desserts" so much, and why I am also loving "Blue Like Jazz." My uncle will actually be reading a selection from "Through Painted Desserts" in my wedding. Here's a sample:
"It confuses me that Christian living is not simpler. The gospel, the very good news, is simple, but this is the gate, the trailhead. Ironing out faithless creases is toilsome labor... Sooner or later you figure out life is constructed specifically and brilliantly to squeeze a man into association with the Owner of heaven. It is a struggle, with labor pains and thorny landscape, bloody hands and a sweaty brow, head in hands, moments of severe loneliness and questioning, moments of ache and desire. All this leads to God, I think... Matter and thought are a canvas on which God paints, a painting with tragedy and delivery, with sin and redemption. Life is a dance toward GodÂ And the dance is not so graceful as we might want."

See what sticks...

2006-02-19T08:41:00.000-08:00

*Today, while at work, I had to call a vendor. During the conversation I was put on hold. The on-hold music made my morning... "Who's That Lady" by The Isley Brothers. Is there anything that can change your mood more quickly than music? I was having a very blah, go-through-the-motions, kind of morning, and just hearing that song on the phone perked me up!

*Something else that gives me quick and simple joy (as often referenced on this blog) is bacon... but a close second would be cheese.

*You know what is something that I don't love, but is certainly a nice treat every now and then? Mountain Dew. It's refreshing and delicious, but if I drink more than one, I get some serious stomach cramps. It's funny that Mountain Dew is so popular, because this stomach cramp issue is a well-known one. In high school some buddies and I used to get together to play some cards every now and then and the evening would be laced with copious amounts of Mountain Dew. But we didn't even bother calling it Mountain Dew, we simply called it "Gut Rot," as in, "Hey dude, while you're up, grab me another Gut Rot." It was delightful.

*I may have mentioned this before, but it came up again. The other day I was talking to one of our account reps, and we got to talking about a mutual acquantence. The account rep described this acquaintence as "the nicest guy you'd ever want to meet." What does that mean? Does that mean that if there was anyone nicer than this guy you wouldn't even want to meet him because he's so nice? This seems strange to me. I mean, the guy he was talking about is certainly nice, but if there's a nicer guy somewhere out there, I'd like to meet him too.

Where Are We Going?

2006-01-26T18:17:00.001-08:00

One of the main themes of our wedding in June is based on a song by Dave Matthews Band called "Where Are You Going?" I remember when I first heard the song when it came out I didn't really care for it. I think part of the reason that I didn't care for it was because I didn't really get it.
But shortly after we got engaged I heard "Where Are You Going?" on the radio and I immediately thought, "that song HAS to be part of the wedding."
My favorite part of the song is the second chorus:
"I am no superman/I have no answers for you/I am no hero, oh that's for sure/But I do know one thing/Where you are is where I belong/I do know where you go is where I want to be."
I couldn't believe how all of a sudden when I heard those lines, after previously never really giving much thought to the song, they just made so much sense to me. It's funny how things affect you differently during different periods of your life.
Last month one of my employees asked me how I knew when my fiance was "the one."
I don't remember the exact day, or the time, or the circumstance, I just remember that gradually my outlook on life was changing. I could see that how I looked at things was changing, but I wasn't sure why. And then suddenly it dawned on me that I couldn't imagine anything good happening in my life without having her by my side. I couldn't imagine going through any tough times in my life without having her to lean on. When I looked at my future, at where I wanted to go, what I wanted to do and how I wanted to get there, I had no idea what any of those things looked like... all I knew was that no matter what those things actually did end up looking like, I wouldn't be able to picture it without her beside me.
In a sense, by asking her to marry me I'm asking her to partake in all of my crap. By asking her to be my wife I'm asking her to stand with me despite all of the crap I've already been through and put myself through, I'm asking her to stand with me through the crap that I'm trying to get through now, and I'm asking her to stand with me through the crap that I will walk through in the future. In return, I'm promising to walk through all of the crap that she deals with as well.
Let me be honest here: that is some scary shit! It's scary to think about dragging someone else through the mud with you, looking ahead and hoping that you both come out clean, and better people for it, on the other side.
I think that's why I love the lyrics to that song so much. I am not superman, I do not have all the answers, but if you can trust me that it doesn't matter that neither of us has the answers, then I'll go through whatever you are going through, not because I have to, but because that's where I want to be.
I love that in the song he asks "are you looking for answers to questions under the stars?" and then he doesn't try to answer those questions, or even neccesarily offer help or guidance in answering those questions, he just says "if along the way/You are grown weary/you can rest with me until a brighter day/and you're OK." I might be simple, and I might be a little oversentimental here, but that is some powerful stuff! It's like he's saying I know you are going to struggle with your place in this world, and I'm going to struggle too, but at the end of the day, when we are still searching for that place together, we can take a rest until we're ready to fight the battle again.
I'm such a sap.

Do you Lurk?

2006-01-16T18:40:00.000-08:00

Accoring to VanS, who I completely believe because he would be the person who would be the most plugged in on something like this, this is De-Lurking week in the blogosphere. In the words of VanS, "All over the blogosphere, bloggers are calling upon lurkers to reveal themselves."
I've always wondered who really reads this blog, and those who do, why? So this seems like the perfect opportunity. This could be fun. If you read this blog, please tell me who you are, why you bother reading, and how did you end up here?
Thanks, yo!

Damn You Tom!!!

2006-01-13T06:40:00.000-08:00

Tom Shane, of the Shane Company, why? Why have have you held back for so long? Why have you insisted for years on the same old boring monotone, deadpan delivery?
Damnit Tom Shane!!! Just 5 months ago I was in the market for an engagement ring for my special lady friend. Less than a half year ago I was prepared to walk into a jewelry store with the intention of buying something for the first time in my life. Starting this process, Tom Shane, I made a personal boycott against your stores. During those days I said to myself "I can't handle Tom Shane's strait-man delivery on the radio, surely I will react horribly if I am subjected to that low, gravel-like voice in person I will either laugh or run away maniacally."
Don't you see, Tom Shane? Don't you see that I wanted to like you? I appreciated your strait-forward, business-like approach, but that was all that you gave me. I was unconvinced that you were human at all. Perhaps you were some sort of jewel-trained robot with a demon-esque voice. I didn't know. All I needed was a show of emotion, a joke, some laughter, heck, I would have settled for a change in voice inflection, Tom Shane. But you gave me nothing, Tom Shane. Nothing!!!
And now months after the purchase has been made, your voice appears on the radio, explaining your stance on commercials.
In your newest commercial, Tom Shane, you proclaim that this is the latest in a long line of radio commercials that you won't be winning any awards for. You proclaim, Tom Shane, that you do the commercials the way you do because you don't care about the awards... you care about me! Me, Tom Shane, you care about me! All these years, Tom Shane, you didn't care about jewelry sales, or money... you cared about me!

Why now, Tom Shane? Why didn't you realize that I needed to see this humanity in you years ago? Even months ago might have attracted my business.

Then you end the commercial with this: "...besides, the food is always terrible at those awards shows."
And now I see it, Tom Shane. Now I see what your plan was all along. Years and years of boring commercials, all the while setting up a persona for yourself. You gave your monotone commercials for years and years in order to set up your greatest triumph: a joke. Well, Tom Shane, the joke is on... me. You delivered a joke in that same dead-pan voice that I've always known you for, catching me off guard and causing me to spew milk from my nose.
And you, Tom Shane, you brought the house down! Simply brilliant, Tom Shane, simply brilliant.
Nike President Phil Knight who? You, Tom Shane, you are a true marketing genius.

Getting it out...

2006-01-10T17:31:00.000-08:00

Thoughts while re-thinking a casino trip with my fiance and soon-to-be in-laws:
*I don't know why I bother going to the casino, ever, and not playing blackjack. I get almost no enjoyment out of plugging money into a machine, pushing a button and hoping something happens that will allow me to not lose very much money.
*My soon-to-be-mother-in-law won big almost right after we arrived and slipped my fiance a cool hundo. You know what that means... BUFFET DINNER!!!! When we returned from the buffy the big winner asked me how it was. My response: "I'm not sure a man is supposed to eat that many kinds of meat in one meal, but it was fantastic."
*Another thought on the buffet: mini-corndogs. Is there a situation in life where mini-corndogs aren't an appropriate snack? I find them to be delicious and festive. In fact, I'm hoping I can get them added to the menu at the wedding reception. And no, I'm not kidding.

Leftover Holiday thoughts:
*We spent Christmas Eve with my fiance's family and Christmas Day with mine. This year was the first Christmas Eve in my life that I have not been with my family. It was strange to be away from them, but it was really cool to get to spend time with my new family!
*Rosettes are my favorite Christmas treat, but Russian Tea Cakes are a close second.
*One of the gifts that I bought for my special lady friend for Christmas was the game Riff. Riff is a music trivia game. She had always told me that she knew a ton about music, loved playing trivia games and was very competative at them. I had no idea. My fiance and I learned a very important lesson a couple of weeks ago: we should never play trivia games and be on opposite teams. We had to spend 15 minutes after the game had ended and my roommates had gone to be apologizing to each other. Things got ugly. Let's just say that I was far better at the game than she had anticiapted, and she was far more competitive than I had anticipated.
*My special lady friend bought me a guitar for Christmas. This was a huge surprise and a perfect gift. I always love gifts that are things that I want, but I would never buy myself. I had tinkered around with the guitar in the past, but now that I actually have one I'm really enjoying it.

Ode to Dylan...

2006-01-03T21:49:00.000-08:00

I happened to be near my cell phone tonight at work when my mom called me. As soon as I saw on the caller I.D. that it was her, the first thing to come out of my mouth was, "uh oh."

I had heard from my sister that my Mom's beloved dog, Dylan, was not doing well. When I talked to my mom yesterday she confirmed that Dylan was not walking properly, he was falling down a bit and he was not able to jump up on any furniture. I could tell it was heartbreaking for my Mom, but I did my best and tried to stay positive.

So when I saw that it was my Mom calling today I was afraid of what she was going to tell me. You see, my Mom and I are quite close, but it's not the kind of close where we talk every single day. I probably talk to my Mom once a week, so to hear from her after I had just talked to her the day before, I knew it wasn't a "Hey, how ya doin'?" kind of call.

So, instead of spending a lot of time lamenting, I thought it would be more appropriate to celebrate Dylan's life.

Dylan would have been 14 years old this May. I remember when we got him. My mom had been talking for awhile about getting a dog after our previous cocker-spanial Ginger had died. One night my mom, my grandma and I jumped in the car and drove to Blooming Prairie, MN (for those who don't know, Blooming Prairie High School's mascot just happens to be the Awesome Blossoms, and I will never think that isn't funny). We arrived at a country house after dark and were greeted by the owners of the home and a female Shi-Tzu who greeted us by sitting up on her hind legs and waving at us with her front paws. Soon came a little shi-tzu boy puppy who we immediately fell in love with, and whose name would be Dylan. Dylan was, in fact, named after singer/songwriter Bob Dylan whose music we had often enjoyed while on vacations with my aunt Mary Ann.

I believe it was July, so the rest of my summer was filled with taking care of Dylan, taking Dylan outside to use the restroom, playing with Dylan, listening to Dylan whine, and admiring the cutest puppy on earth. He was white with black splotches (or was he black with white splotches?) and he looked like a dust mop running around on the floor. I remember in the fall during my first week of German II we had to recite, in German, a paragraph about our summer. In broken Germanish I spoke mostly about Dylan.

One of the first times that Chris came over to visit after we got Dylan, we were upstairs in my room playing with him. Chris was so overjoyed with the experience that he picked Dylan up and lifted him over his head in jublilation. The problem with this maneuver was that the ceiling was low in my bedroom. To make things just a bit worst there was a ceiling fan in my room and it was running. I think you see where this is going. To make a long story short, Dylan was fine, I was terrified, Chris was remorseful, and years later we still sometimes share a good laugh over it.

Dylan rarely barked. The only time he really ever let loose was when he was playing. Even when he was playing, as much as his bark startled us who rarely heard it, I think it startled him even more. He loved to run around the house, and he and I would often play a strange game of fetch where I would throw the fetching-object and Dylan would quickly run to get it, often sliding on the linoleum floor. He would then bring it back toward me. I say toward me because he never quite seemed thrilled with the idea of actually giving it back, so I would usually have to use my cat-like reflexes to get it away from him and start the ordeal over.

Dylan began a bit of a trend among our family and some family friends. Shortly after my Mom got Dylan, a co-worker and friend of my Mom's got a Lahsa-Apso, which they named Mozart. A few years later my sister got a Shi-Tzu as well, a rambunctious little fellow who often terrorized Dylan, named Charlie. Next came my aunt who has the most loving corgie imaginable, Lucy.

In his later years Dylan lost his hearing and it seemed he was beginning to lose his sight. When the likes of Charlie and Lucy began to be around the house more often, Dylan showed a reserved elegance that few Shi-Tzus ever develop. He wouldn't so much run and play with them, but run from them, and generally end up on my Mom's bed where they weren't able to jump to. Although it only now came in spurts, he never lost his energy or his ability to keep up with the younger generation... when he chose to. Most often when Charlie would try to jump on him or get him to play, Dylan seemed disinterested, and often walked away, maintaining his swagger and his dignity in the process, letting Charlie entertain himself (which he has no problem with).

He was a fun dog, and Dylan will be missed, but we know he's not suffering now.

I'm going to regret this in the morning

2005-12-20T21:48:00.000-08:00

On occasion I am confronted with the circumstance at work where I close one night and have to open the next morning. This means that I am leaving at night around 11 p.m. and have to be back sometime between 6-7 the next morning, depending on what that day looks like.
Right now it's 11:50 p.m., I have just gotten home from work and I need to be back in the morning probably by about 5:30. Go ahead and let that sink in for a minute, because that's exactly what I'm doing.
Usually I can power my way through the ordeal without much problem. Of course it's a short night and an early morning, but sometimes it's actually kind of a nice way to get two shifts out of the way quickly.
This is not going to be one of those cases.
The problem with working until 11 at night, as is the problem currently, is that, after working an extremely busy 9-hour shift, I don't feel the least bit tired right now. You would think that the very thought that I am going to have to be back at work in roughly 5 1/2 hours would make me sleepy, but it doesn't.
I'm not going to enjoy this.

Caution: Thoughtful post to follow...

2005-12-15T05:05:00.000-08:00

Anxiously anticipating being married one of the biggest things that I've been confronted with, that I've been pondering, is the idea of change.
There are lots of obvious changes that will come with being married. I'll be living with a girl (currently one of my roommates is a girl, but not one that I am "involved with" obviously). I will wear a ring on my left hand ring finger. I will be responsible to help nurture and provide for another person, and in turn, I will have someone to help to nurture me as well. I will have someone to share bills, furniture, purchases, decisions, etc. These things are all part of the territory and are all obvious.
But I've been thinking a lot about other changes. I'm not sure if the changes that I've been thinking about have more to do with my upcoming nuptuals, or if they just have simply to do with growing older.
One thing I've been noticing lately is changes with friends. I realize that as I grow older, as my life changes, and my friend's lives change as well, that we begin to have different interests. Sometimes, where we would always have shared an outlook on a subject, now we have very different outlooks. Of course this isn't necessarily a bad thing, it's just the way it is. I wonder sometimes if it's because we have grown different over the years, or if, in fact, we weren't that close in outlook to begin with. Perhaps our similar outlook wasn't similar at all, we just weren't as developed in our personal outlook.
(Please note that I'm not talking about anyone in particular, this subject has been on my mind for a long time.) One thing that has happened, for me at least, with the popularity of blogging, is that I have learned more and more about the wide range of ideas that are out there. With a number of my friends having blogs I learn more and more about their formulation of beliefs, what current things they are struggling with, what drives them. Writing is a powerful thing. It was said by a professor of mine at CBC that you never get closer to God than you do through other people, and I completely believe this. But I think that there's something about reading someone's writing, when someone had nobody in particular in mind when they were writing it, that you learn something about them that you couldn't have learned by speaking face-to-face with them. And so, as blogging has become more popular, I have learned more and more about my friends.
Sometimes I struggle with this. Sometimes when I read a friend's blog and realize that I know little or nothing about what they are talking about, or perhaps I realize that I don't agree completely with them, or maybe I don't feel as strongly about something as them, it makes me feel slightly distant from them. It sometimes makes me feel like my friend and I are growing in different ways, and sometimes I become fearful that my friend and I are growing apart. Truthfully, that's a sad feeling sometimes. Sometimes I realize that people that I know very well know about things that I know nothing about, they are formulating opinions about things that I know nothing about. Sometimes it makes me feel inadequate, dumb. Mostly, sometimes, it makes me feel like a very simple person.
But back to the fact that I believe you never get closer to God than you do through other people... when I read what my friends believe, what they are learning, how they are thinking, I learn about what is going on in their daily thought process, and while this says a lot about the kind of person they are, it does not tell the complete story. When a friend's blog is talking about something that I know nothing about, and I realize that my friend is sharing these thoughts not only with me, but with the entire blogging nation, I also have to remember that there was a time that I was the only person who got to share a road trip with that friend, or a beer on the porch with that friend.
One of the greatest compliments that I have ever received is when one of my friends told me that if there was one single word that could describe me perfectly it was the word genuine.
The beauty of this blog, in some strange way, is that you can read every word I write, and even if I wrote every single day, you still couldn't come anywhere close to getting a picture of the true person is that I am. I might be the most genuine person on earth to my friend, and that might be my greatest defining characteristic, but it's possible that I might never come across that way on my blog. That's why when I wrote a post about chicken and vegetarianism several months ago a person who stumbled across my blog got very angry with me and attacked me personally. That person doesn't know me. All they know about me is what I write on my blog, and anybody that really knows me also knows that 90% of what I write on this blog, although it's part of my personality, is not 100% representative of who I am.
The trick, for me, is remembering that this is true for myself... AND it's true for my friends too.
See, when I get together with friends, we don't talk about the lofty things they write on their blogs, and we don't even talk about the stupid things I write on mine. What we talk about is how their car isn't running right, how they have so much homework that they can't see strait, how they struggle with if they are going in the right direction. In the end, no matter what I am writing on my blog, no matter what they are writing on theirs, our friendship is more important than those things.
So even though things change, beliefs change, people change, maybe friendships have a little more staying power. If we never get closer to God than we do through other people, if we never learn more about God than we do through other people, then I can't wait to learn more about God from my fiance today and when she's my wife in 7 months. I can't wait to continue to learn more about God from my friends, perhaps on their blogs, but more importantly from speaking with them and spending time with them.
As I move forward toward the rest of my life in which I will share every intimate thought and feeling I have with my wife, I hope that I don't lose track of the importance of also having friends, and sharing, at least some of, those thoughts with them.

Something needs to be done...

2005-12-10T19:11:00.000-08:00

Listen, something really needs to be done about the music that we are being poisoned with out there. Somebody needs to start some kind of committee or governing board that approves or disapproves the song lyrics of every song that is going to hit the airwaves. It's obvious that the youth of today is so mindless that no matter what drivvel we pipe into their ears they aren't going to question it, they are just going to accept it, and, more sadly, buy it.
I remember when Papa Roach first came out and everyone was falling all over themselves about the song "Last Resort." Personally it never did anything for me, but somehow this horrible song put Papa Roach on the map. Maybe I wasn't paying attention but I guess I never noticed that I hadn't heard anything from them in a few years. Well recently I've been hearing this particular song on the radio and the lyrics are nothing short of putrid. Yesterday when I asked one of my employees who sang the sang he told me, "dude, that's Papa Roach." I had to laugh, I was not surprised.
Here's the lyric that drives me most crazy:
"I tear my heart open, and sew myself shut/my weakness is that I care too much."
Actually, I would beg to differ because it's obvious to me that your weakness actually is lyric writing. Honestly, somebody is actually buying this stuff? Really? I have a hard enough time believing that there's someone out there who writes that kind of garbage and reads it back and says, "yeah, I like that," and then, on top of that, they have to read that trash to their bandmates and their okay with it too, but then there's actually people out there who buy it? Shouldn't somebody have stopped this before it ever hit the airwaves? Shouldn't there have been a guy in the studio with Papa Roach who took care of this before it got out of hand.
During recording: "Guys, guys! Okay, sorry to cut you off, but wait a minute. Did you just sing the words 'my weakness is that I care too much'? You did? Really? Okay, um, yeah. That's just the kind of crap I'm here to put an end to. Look, we don't need anymore cliches from you punk-rock types about looking rough and gruff on the outside, but being sweet and sensitive on the inside. It's all crap, okay?!?! CRAP! You're going to have to change that lyric or I'm going to shut the hole thing down. Got it?"
Of course, Papa Roach aren't the only offenders.
"Hollaback Girl" by Gwen Steffani has been the most downloaded song on VH1.com this year, and yet Maxim magazine voted it one of the worst songs, not just of the year, but of ALL TIME!!! Mindnumbing... and our children are consuming it like water. I don't know what Hollaback Girl is, nor do I believe hollaback to be a word, but apparently Gwen's a big fired up. "I heard that you were talking sh*# And you didn't think that I would hear it People hear you talking like that, getting everybody fired up So I'm ready to attack, gonna take you out..." Alright, alright, shut up already. Seriously, this is what's on the radio. At the end of the song she proclaims how great the song is by calling it "bananas" and then spelling the word "bananas" over and over again. I'll give it to Gwen on that one, teaching the children of America how to spell. Top notch!
Glad I got that off my chest.

I'm a bad blogger

2005-12-01T18:02:00.001-08:00

So I just realized that the entire month of November passed by without me posting one time on The Quotable Jerdogg. That is just sad. Here's what's even more sad, I've been writing more than ever, and I even had a week of vacation during November and I still couldn't squeeze anything onto this blog... that's just horrible.
Jeff and I have been working extra hard the last 2 months to make Midwest Sports Rubes a sports blog worth reading more than once a month, which was about the pace we were keeping prior to October. So, I've been trying to dedicate a lot of my online time to that site.
In addition, after much debating on the subject over the last year, with the encouragement of my cousin, I finally launched a blog calling for the job of Gopher Football Head Coach Glen Mason. So I've also been working hard to come up with fresh, meaningful and coherant content for that blog, as well as promoting it around the net a little bit. The response for Fire Glen Mason has been positive, and traffic seems to be good.
So, as you can see I've been devoting much of my writing/blogging time to the sporting world.
This doesn't mean that I have lost interest in taking notice of this mad, mad, mad, mad world around me...
*Today at the Y a woman jumped on the cross-trainer machine next to me and began reading a magazine as she was riding the machine. As she was reading this magazine (Cosmo or something of the sort) and working out, I noticed that she was having some trouble with keeping her movements coordinated. Finally I was able to figure out what was keeping her off balance. Throughout the magazine she was looking through there were several ads for perfumes, complete with samples of the fragerance. The woman, while trying to ride the exercise machine, was rubbing her wrist on the samples and then trying to smell them, all the while trying to continue her workout. I literally had to cut my workout short (only by 4 minutes) because I was on the verge of bursting out laughing.
*The other day I saw a bumper sticker that said "Hatred is not a family value." I've seen this bumper sticker before, but for some reason it really stuck in my craw this time. First of all, in order for someone to proclaim that hatred is not a family value, wouldn't someone, at some time, have had to profess that it was? Second, do we really need to be reminded that hatred is not a family value? Are there really people out there who need this reminder? Is there someone going "Hmmm, hatred? Now, would that be considered a family value?"
*Do people still use the word "peeps" as a replacement for the word "people"? Is this word coming back? I heard somebody say this the other day and I was shocked. I mean, really, shouldn't this have gone out with "talk to the hand," "whatever," and "NOT!"? I, for one, never liked the word peeps, and the fact that it might be coming back concerns me. Really, this isn't the kind of pop-culture jargon we need to rehash. Join me in boycotting peeps!
*Awhile back I wrote about my disdain for Subway, mainly based on my dislike of their spokesman, Jared Fogel. Since Subway has a pretty stong hold on the sandwich market, I had been avoiding subs altogether. Two weeks ago I had a hankerin' for a sandwich and drove by a Quizno's. I marched myself in and proceeded to order a masterpiece... the Double Bacon BLT. For two solid days I could not stop thinking about this sandwich, and then, last week again, I had opportunity to partake of the DBBLT. My original feeling about this sandwich was correct... nothing short of magnificant! Once again proving my point: bacon (in this case, double the bacon) makes everything better. If you have not tried the DBBLT, I highly recommend it. For those who don't like tomato, which I do, and who plan to ask their sandwich artist (is this a term that only Subway cronies can inhabit, because I find it to be universal) to hold the tomato, I might suggest asking, then, for extra lettuce. Believe me, there is so much bacon on this beauty that you are going to need some kind of significant veggie buffer to keep your system from going into shock.
*While I'm on the subject of endorsing products... last summer I won a portable DVD player at my company golf tournament. In the history of technology there has never been a technological device that I had less use for than a portable DVD player. Long story short: I returned the DVD player in exchange for store credit, which I promptly used to procure an iPod Nano. After using the store credit and purchasing the two-year service plan for the iPod, I owed the store $1.23. Let me tell you that even if I had paid full price for this little piece of heaven I would still find it to be worth every penny. The iPod has single-handedly made my workouts more enjoyable and, thus, longer. Generally when I'm in the car I listen to A.M. radio, and it used to be that when I worked out I listened to F.M. radio. Now I listen to more actual music than I've listened to in probably 5 years and it's all music that I want to hear because I put it on the iPod. Do you have any idea how giddy I get when I'm riding the stationary bike and "Mandy" by Barry Manilow begins playing in my ears? Can you even imagine how pumped up I get when I turn on my "Weights" playlist and begin to hear these words from Eminem... "if you had one shot, or one opportunity to seize everything you ever wanted, one moment, would you capture it or just let it slip? Yo, yo...." Now that, my friends, is the epitome of motivation.

The Jer Abides

2005-10-31T18:02:00.000-08:00

I'm not really one to use my blog as a diary, but I haven't written in awhile and things have been happening over the last several days that are worth speaking about, if for no other reason than that they have been happening to me.
A thought while hearing "More Than Words," the version of Extreme's song remade by Frankie J...
First of all, this song was pretty good when it came out, but it got a bit too much play, so it probably didn't need to get remade. And it should definitely be banned from somebody named Frankie J. Shouldn't there be some kind of review board that decides if someone can remake a song? And shouldn't this board also have jurisdiction over how the song is remade?
A thought while playing "caps" in the living room on Friday night...
One thing that stinks about getting older is that there aren't a lot of house parties anymore. There just aren't enough times where a bunch of people are sitting around enjoying beverages, playing games, listening to music and having conversation in a low key environment. On occasion I get to play a game at my house called "caps" where two teams try to throw a bottle cap into the opposing team's glass of beer. I just want all of you to know, this is a fantastic game that breeds fantastically funny conversations and I hope that I get to play this game for the rest of my life.
A thought on life & death...
Friday was the two year anniversary of my dad passing away. It was a strange day. My head was quite out of it all day long and I found myself tearing up at the strangest of times. When I wasn't lost and teary, I was overly outgoing and strange. It was like I was catching myself overcompensating for the sadness I was feeling. In any case I took some time after work to spend by myself. I had a lot of grandios plans for what I was going to do with that time, but in the end I just ended up laying on my bed, praying and falling asleep looking at the folded American flag from my dad's funeral.
Two years since he passed away and still can't figure the whole thing out. I can feel that I am much more emotional than I was before he died. I notice that I am more appreciative of the people and things around me, and I notice that I get more upset when people aren't as appreciative of things as I am. I am more loyal to family and friends than I ever have been, and I get more confused than ever when other people aren't loyal to the one's they love. I've always been a sentimental type, but things just seem to take on more meaning. Songs hit me harder and break me down more quickly. Happiness feels a little bit more joyous and sadness hurts just a little bit more.
I find myself thinking about what our relationship would have been like today, as we were mending some things just days before his passing. I wonder what he would have to say about me being engaged, and what he might say about my fiance in words and phrases that nobody else could ever sound quite right saying but him.
I find myself more content and happy with life than I have ever been, but I find myself more hungry and excited to find out what is coming next.
One more thought about my truck...
My fiance mentioned to me that I didn't speak about our engagement when I wrote about the happy memories in my truck. I had purposely omitted the story about how I proposed because we had decided that we didn't want to make it public record. I have been cleared to share at least part of the story with my blog readers.
'Tis true, I proposed to my special lady friend while she was sitting in the passenger seat of my truck. It was not the kind of spectacularly creative moment that I had always imagined getting engaged to be, but it was distinctly on par with our relationship. I don't think I could have possibly surprised her more than I did, and, if nothing else, that was the most important thing to me. And, yes, I was definitely down on one knee when I asked her.

Celebrating 200,000

2005-10-20T10:00:00.000-07:00

Warning: This is the longest post I've ever written, but I also had more fun writing it than anything I've ever written.
Tuesday was a noteworthy day. A very personal one, and it may resonate with several of the folks who read this site.
There are a few things in life that a man has an irrational attachment to that he could never quite explain. Quite often it's a sports team or piece of sports memorabilia. It could be a special piece of nostalgia from the man's past. This attachment to inanimate objects we never try to explain, we just accept it, and move on.
Those who know me know that I am particularly sentimental when it comes to things like this. Again, I don't claim to understand it, but I accept it.
On Tuesday my truck turned 200,000 miles! 114,000 of them are mine. It's quite a milestone for both of us. So many memories. My truck has been through everything that I have been through in the past 4 ½ years.
Since my truck has been through so much with me, and since so many of you who read this site have spent many hours in my truck with me, I would like to go through a bit of my truck's history.
A 1995 S-10 Chevy Blazer became mine in April of 2001. White with black cloth interior, at the time it had just 86,000 miles on it. It was perfect.
Here are some of the highlights of the past 4 ½ years...
*Like all good captains the first trip was a minor one to make sure that the ship was seaworthy. In late May 2001 the maiden voyage took me and a friend to my sister's farm, north of Minot, ND, for my nephew's graduation. As it turned out when we arrived at the farm my nephew was not going to actually "graduate" with his class, but the weekend still goes down as one of my Top 15 Most Fun Weekends.
*June 2001. Destination Nelson, British Columbia for the wedding of Sheldon & Kara. Jeff, Josh & myself drove almost 24 hours strait to get to Nelson. With a car-top carrier borrowed from my aunt & uncle we put most of the luggage on the roof so that we could lay out a seat in the back of the blazer for sleeping purposes. This was just a legendary trip in so many ways. We were not passed by a single car during the first 17 hours of our drive. We had 4 12-packs of Rolling Rock in the back that were a gift for Sheldon that were none too easy to explain to the Border Guard. In addition the Blazer had it's first major voyage breakdown in Bozeman, Montana where I was required to purchase a new EGR valve to the tune of around $180. The drive back to Minnesota from BC felt longer, but was uneventful.
*August 2001. Left the Twin Cities at 9:00 p.m. on a Friday night, destination Milwaukee with 3 friends from my job at the time. Events of the weekend: made it to hotel bar in time for last call Friday night. 11:00 a.m. tour of the Miller Brewery, tour ends with 3 free beers. 3 words: Wisconsin State Fair. Hotel pool. Have a Nice Day Cafe: I danced with a girl who had a glittery shirt on. She got so much glitter all over me that it looked like I was wearing a glittery shirt. The glitter would not shower off. To this day I have specs of glitter on my steering wheel that will not wash off. On Sunday we went to a Brewers game at Miller Park during the stadium's inaugural season.
*September 2001. Chris and I load up and head north to Jay Cooke State Park south of Duluth for a night of camping, followed the next night by camping at Goosebury Falls State Park on the north shore of Lake Superior. In the morning at Goosebury I woke up and walked to the bathroom. Walking back to our campsite I saw a man sitting in his van listening to the radio and I could hear Tom Brokaw talking, so I got back to the site and turned on the radio in my truck thinking that something was up. 45 minutes earlier a plane had hit one of the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center. I listened alone for the next hour, Chris was still sleeping. I finally woke him up and said we had to go. The first images of 9/11/2001 that we saw were at the Electric Fetus in Duluth. On our drive back to the Cities from Duluth the news reports got to be too much and we turned off the radio. We prayed out loud or sat in silence for the next 2 hours.
*November 2001. Iowa City, IA: Gophers vs. Hawkeyes football and my 23rd birthday. Nick, Niall, Dan & myself. This weekend included one of the few times in my life when I feared I would be killed. The Hawkeye fans were not too happy with our antics in their town. Also, thanks to the previous evening I felt like I was going to die. Also of note: the Gophers were absolutely slaughtered. I was sick to my stomach and it didn't just have to do with the game.
*August 2002. Drove to Waukesha, Wisconsin to stay at Ambjor and friends house, even though Ambjor wasn't there and we had never met her roommates. Porta, Josh, Danny Carvel (pre-marriage), Josho & myself. A full boat. A cannon in the park in Waukesha was mounted and ridden by me (there are pictures). Later I am surprised to find out from our hosts that nobody has ever done this before. The next morning we headed to Alpine Valley to catch the Dave Matthews Band show. Great tailgating, great show. After the show I empty the contents of my stomach onto the parking lot of a gas station outside of Alpine Valley. My suggestion to you is to avoid gas station hot dogs at midnight after a concert. I'm just sayin'.
*November 2002. Back to Waukesha on a Friday night with Porta and Amy to stay with Ambjor and friends. Took a charter bus the next morning to Madison for the Gopher game against the Badgers. Two coach buses with 80 people in each and we were the only 5 Gopher fans. I was nervous, but adult beverages can be the great equalizer amongst the Big 10 football crowd and this day was no exception. The Badger fans were much more accommodating than the Hawkeye fans. Also of note: the Gophers were absolutely slaughtered. I enjoyed myself immensely, was not sick to my stomach, and never felt like I was going to die or be killed. Bonus!
*November 2003. Porta and I headed out on a Friday afternoon, followed by my sister & mom in my sister's Kia. Destination Bismarck, ND for my dad's funeral. We stopped in Valley City to pick up Jeff on the way and rolled into Bismarck around 11 p.m. It was an emotional weekend. As a family we visited my dad's old watering hole in Bismarck, The Elbow Room where we enjoyed adult beverages and reminisced. The night ended with an epic three-game pool mach in which Jeff and my sister Deb beat Porta and me 2-1. I am not sure of the exact time length of the match, but I know it was no less than 17 hours.
*Demember 2003. My sisters Deb & Michelle and I drive to Phoenix. My dad had passed away about 6 weeks prior. We drove strait through to Phoenix from Wahpeton, North Dakota, almost 26 hours, to settle out our dad's estate and have a memorial get-together with his friends in Arizona. Three noteworthy things happened on this trip: we had the opportunity to hear all of my dad's closest friends tell stories about him; I became much closer to my sisters who were with me on the trip; I got my first taste of Vegas on the drive back. Also of note, the second major voyage breakdown about 30 minutes southwest of Dickinson, ND. Fuel pump. Ouch. Set us back about 4 hours and $300.
*May 2004. Left town on a Friday night with Porta and headed to Valley City, ND to visit Jeff for the evening. While Jeff was working Porta and I hit a local establishment, ended up talking to some girls and going to a wedding dance with them at the Valley City Eagles Club. The details of the rest of the evening are not important except to say that when we left the wedding dance to go meet Jeff we were not with the girls that we arrived with. Gotta love small towns. Saturday a.m. we drive to Minot, ND for the graduation of my niece. A mostly uneventful open house at a Minot hotel is followed by the graduation ceremony at the small town high school. As the ceremony drags on Porta and I set the over/under for time of ceremony at 70 minutes. I take the under, Porta takes the over. Things looked good for me as the keynote speaker took the mic. Suddenly his speech got slightly emotional when he started talking about "No Child Left Behind." It was over from there, and the ceremony actually ended up pushing 85 minutes. Just a marathon of a graduation and it has to go down in history. That night at the hotel in Minot, Porta and I crashed our second wedding of the weekend hitting a wedding dance being held in the hotel's ballroom. Also noteworthy: this was the weekend when I coined my favorite blackjack phrase. Whenever I would get 11 and I would double down, as the dealer was laying down my hit card I yelled "MAKE IT HURT!!!" Porta laughed every single time. This never gets old.
*Early August 2004. Another Dave Matthews show at Alpine Valley. Tailgating prior to the concert was legendary as Porta and I made a video that would easily go down in history with the greatest pre-concert videos of all time, as we talk to numerous people under the pretense that my cousin couldn't make it to the concert and we were making a video for him (this is only a slight fabrication). Unfortunately, (or maybe fortunately) the tape is ruined shortly thereafter. On the walk into the concert I begin running around yelling at everyone letting them know that "I'VE GOT A TICKET TO THE SHOOOOOWWWW!!!" In my joviality, and also because I was running on gravel wearing flip-flop sandals, I take a massive tumble, jump to my feet and keep running. When I catch up to Porta he points out that my hands are covered in blood. Later in the night I realize that my wrist hurts incredibly bad, and I am sure it is broken. The concert is mostly forgettable except for seeing Porta slide down a hill on his butt that he was standing on while looking for me. After the show I fall asleep in the back of my truck with my arm inside of a cooler full of water and ice. For two days following the show I can't move my wrist without writhing in pain.
*Mid August 2004. Porta and I again hit the dusty trail for North Dakota. Visiting Jeff in Valley City on our first night out of town, we have an enjoyable evening. The next day we drive to Bismarck to stay at my sister Michelle's house for a couple of days. While in Bismarck I visit my dad's grave for the first time since the burial. Also, while in Bismarck we see Anchorman at the local multi-plex and laugh much harder than anyone else in the theatre. A couple of days later we head up to Minot to my sister Deb's place. We ride horses, enjoy small town life (and small town bars), and visit an establishment called The Blind Duck in Minot for three strait nights. The defining moment of the week happens on Thursday night. Sitting in the back of my nephew's refurbished early 80's full-size Blazer with my sister and Porta as my nephew pulls up next to a Chevy Silverado with strait-pipes. The driver of the pick-up was revving the engine at my nephew when my brother-in-law in the passenger seat leans out the window and begins yelling at the driver of the pick-up to race him. Soon, to entice the other driver, he yells out a $500 prize if they other truck can beat my nephew. His yelling and antics were legendary and never in my life have I wanted a video camera more. This sequence goes on for 3 or 4 stop-lights as my nephew and the other truck drive slightly too fast for the main highway in Minot. Officially the race never happened, but my brother-in-law's pre-race act was hilarious.

In addition to these great trips there have been several trips to Fargo to visit Josho at NDSU, a few more trips to Bismarck, a few more trips to Duluth, and countless trips to Rochester and back. There have also been too many Gopher tailgating experiences out of the back of my truck to mention, as well as the usual times out with the boys that my truck was privy to.
My blazer has been a very reliable and fun truck to drive, and, as you can see, it has seen some of the better experiences that I have had in my life. Thanks to everyone who has joined me in any of these experiences or any that I haven't mentioned. I have recalled dates and events to the best of my ability and any items or people that I left out were totally inadvertent. If there is anything or anyone that I have left out, or any details that I have relayed incorrectly, please respond and let me know.

"Strange Days Have Tracked Us Down": Two Strange occurrences and One Baffled Jer

2005-10-02T10:01:00.000-07:00

Maybe Jim Morrison summed it up best. "Strange days have found us, strange days have tracked us down." They say fact is better than fiction. That's the great thing about life, sometimes, you just can't make it up.

Last Saturday after the Gopher Football game I spent a few hours lounging on the couch and watching football as my gal was scrapbooking. Turns out there's a store called Archiver's. If you know what Archiver's is you are probably of the female persuasion. If you are a man: Archiver's is a store dedicated to preserving memories. In other words, scrapbooking. I know, I know, we are made fun of for fantasy football, but there's an entire store dedicated to scrapbooking? It's true!
Archiver's hosts classes on scrapbooking and evenings where a scrapbooking aficionado can pay a nominal fee to sit in a room in the back of the store for several hours with other scrapbooking enthusiasts and, you guessed it, scrapbook!!!
In any case, I had to go to Archiver's to get my gal's apartment keys so that I could let her dog out. At the scrapbooking event, being the crafty gal she is, she started working on ideas for wedding invitations. Since I was already going to pick up the keys, she asked if I wanted to come inside and look at her ideas. Harmless enough, right? I was not prepared.
In and of itself, it's a bit unnerving walking into a room of 20 women. Add to that nervousness the fact that each of the women was completely silent. In addition to being outnumbered by 20 silent women, each of them had a scissors at the ready. When they noticed me walk into the room, it felt like a movie. Suddenly I was in slow motion. My hands in my pockets so as to show my timidness at the situation, the movie background music stopped. The women stopped moving, and their collective gaze was upon the intruder. A man!!! GET HIM GIRLS!!!
When I was 6 years old I almost drowned in a Holiday Inn pool. My dad jumped in with all of his clothes on and pulled me up. Not being able to touch the bottom of the pool, looking up to see only water, and realizing I was in a precarious situation... I'll never forget it. The moments before my dad pulled me out of the water were the most terrifying moments of my life. My experience at Archiver's last Saturday runs a frighteningly close second to my near drowning.
Men, I implore you, if you pay attention to nothing else I have ever said, or ever will say, on this blog, listen to and heed this warning: if you ever go to Archiver's, look down and SAY... NOTHING!

Friday after work I met Jeffrey for a late evening bite to eat and adult barely based beverages. As we were leaving Old Chicago in Uptown Minneapolis around 1:30 a.m. we were approached in the parking lot by a gentleman who was in his mid to late-30's.
The exchange started out innocently enough. He seemed to be from out of town, and was asking how he could get to 35W South. As I began to tell him to head up Hennepin toward 94 East, Jeffrey began to walk away to his car and the man began to speak directly to me as Jeff was soon out of earshot.
Suddenly the conversation took a very strange turn.
"Hey, down the street here, on Lake Street, do you think I can get some action down there?"
What? I'm giving this guy directions and suddenly he's asking me where he can score some drugs? Did I miss something?
Here's the deal: I'm a little bit too forgiving. Instead of walking away from this guy like I should have, I made an attempt to end the conversation in a civil way, but end it nonetheless.
I answered him, "Um, I'm not sure what kind of "action" you are looking for, but yes, you can probably find it there."
Now the guy starts backpedaling, but in a far different direction than I would have imagined.
"Oh man, I'm not looking for drugs or anything..."
I'm thinking, oh, thank goodness, I thought... hey, wait a minute, if he isn't looking for drugs just what exactly is he...
"... I'm talking about, you know, some flesh."
I don't quite remember when it happened, but at some point I must have quickly thrown on a t-shirt that said, "HEY, ASK ME WHERE YOU CAN FIND A 'LADY OF THE NIGHT'."
Still not able to bring the conversation to an abrupt end, I respond quickly, "Um, yeah, I wouldn't know about that."
All of a sudden this stranger comes under some kind of moral dilemma. Right in front of me he is questioning his morals, his beliefs, his very being, and confessing his own reservations about how he is thinking of spending the rest of the night.
"I don't know man. I'm not sure I can do it, it seems kind of sleazy, you know?"
Oh really? Sleazy huh? Hmm, well, I guess that's one word for it. Other words that come to mind are disgusting, awful, immoral, dangerous, desperate, creepy, repulsive, skanky and shameful.
Finally I am able to end the conversation.
"You're right. Have a good one."

Honestly! Does this stuff happen to anyone else? Am I the only one who feels like I'm involved in some kind of messed up John Grisham plot on a weekly basis?

Engaging The Jerdogg

2005-09-16T20:58:00.001-07:00

Last week the Quotable Jerdogg became the Engaged Jerdogg. That’s correct, I popped the big question and I got the answer I was looking for so I gave my special lady friend a nice ring for her positive response.
It’s been about a week now that we’ve been officially engaged, meaning, it’s been about a week since the ring has been on her finger. I’ve got to say that the time between when I talked to her parents and asked for their blessing until the time that I put the ring on her finger was probably the three most anxious weeks of my entire life. I will admit that I was probably not a pleasant man during this time, but I just wanted everything to be right.
The problem is that when I spoke to her parents it didn’t go as I had planned. Okay, they said yes, so I guess it went exactly as I had planned. But what I mean is, I had always envisioned that I would speak to her parents and it would be without her knowing. Unfortunately it didn’t work out that way and I was none too happy about this fact. Oh well, all’s well that ends well, as they say.
Now, whenever I tell anyone that we are engaged, the number one thing that is said, besides congratulations, is “How does it feel?”
I don’t think that my fiancé (that’s weird, that’s the first time I’ve written that) would mind me telling you what I’ve been telling her… I don’t like being engaged, I just want to be married.
It would have been nice if we could have enjoyed being engaged for even one week. Just a week of enjoying people’s congratulatory words. A week basking in the glow of our new excitement, our new title, our new official engagement.
Yeah… didn’t exactly work out that way.
Am I happy to have my special lady friend now be my fiancé? Absolutely. Am I excited at the thought of being married to her next summer and starting our life together? Without question.
Am I already tired of talking about wedding party attire? Um… yes. Am I a bit overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of what it takes to pull off a wedding? Indeed. Is my head spinning at the thought how much this little shindig is going to cost? You bet your sweet ass I am. (For the record, my special lady fiancé already knows my feelings on all of this.)
Having said all of that, I could not be happier. At the end of the day, when the dust has settled, when the stress has died down, when the phone calls, voicemails and emails have stopped, I am completely ecstatic to be engaged to a gal who is twice the woman I ever thought I’d end up with and ten times the woman I ever thought I deserved. I couldn’t be happier!But to me, the day after the wedding day, and all of the days following that, are much more important than the wedding day itself.

Amtrakin' It

2005-08-20T09:23:00.000-07:00

In order to save money, and hopefully some time, when traveling to North Dakota two weeks ago, I made what I thought was a wise and financially frugal decision to take the train to Minot to visit my sisters. I decided to keep a diary of my train time, and here are some of the highlights.
8/9/05 10:35 p.m.
So far, off to a good start. Just arrived at the train depot. The train was supposed to leave A@ 11:15 p.m. but it's already apparently stuck behind a disabled bridge somewhere between Lacrosse & St. Paul. Sounds like it could be 2 hrs or more before the train arrives here...
The travelers seem to be pretty laid back about the situation. This could mean one of three things:
1) They are leisure travelers so unlike most airline travelers they don't have tight deadlines.
2) They take Amtrak enough that they are used to these types of delays.
3) They've been drinking, which, now, I wish I had too.
11:55 p.m.
Still no word on when the train might get in.
Meanwhile, I've managed to alienate my first co-passenger of the trip. I got up to use the restroom, which felt like a wayside rest that had been horribly neglected. When I returned to the area of the station that I had been sitting in before there was a nice corner spot open, which had previously been occupied by an older African-American guy with graying dreadlocks. No sooner had I gotten the Hank Williams, Jr. CD into the discman and here came the same man, back, I'm guessing, from a cigarette. I apologized right away and offered to move. He seems nice enough, saying "No problem, there's chairs all over this place." Still, I imagine he wanted to punch me. If I was him I'd want to punch me.
8/10/05 12:39 a.m.
Just got the word that the #7 is pulling into Winona right now. It's going to be a minimum of 2 hours now. They are expecting the train around 3 a.m. Flippin' Sweet!
1:36 a.m.
#7's expected arrival: 3:15 a.m.
2:37 a.m.
The new #7 expected arrival: 3:30 a.m. Even as it's getting better it's somehow getting worse. Based on the train station's general repair & appearance, plus the fact that the train seems to move at a snail's pace, my expectations have gone from relatively high to unbelievably low. With my new expectation of a horrible train experience the end result should be of the experience surpassing all of my expectations.
Then again, I haven't even set foot on the train yet.
3:24 a.m.
The fist sign that things are on the up-and-up, the train has arrived!!! Of course I won't board the train for a good 20 to 30 minutes now, but at least my fear that the rail-bound transport even existed has subsided.
Also of note, the middle-aged woman in the pink jumpsuit who had settled in where the man with the graying dreads had been, has now gotten up for the sixth time in the past 90 minutes to go out for a heater. She smells like she just arrived strait from the offices of Phillip Morris and, secretly, I hope she doesn't come back to sit by me.
3:31 a.m.
No such luck. She's back and she smells lovely. Also, she's talkative.
4:12 a.m.
Time to get in line.
7:31 a.m.
Had no chance to write once they began to board the train, and holy crap am I glad I set myself up for low expectations. First off, it was dark on the train when I got on and I was one of the last people to board, so good luck finding a seat, right?
It was after 4:00 a.m. before I got on the train and I end up having to sit next to a rather large man whose on his way to Williston, ND. So there I am, it's 4:15 in the morning and this guy wants to talk. He's giving me the whole where-ya-from, where-ya-headin', whatdya-do routine. Of course I reach right for the headphones to shut the guy up.
So the talking stops and he starts falling asleep. So I ditch the headphones to get some sleep of my own, but the truth is now I'm really screwed because apparently when this guy isn't talking or just generally breathing heavily, he's freakin' snoring! The headphones go back on and I turn the music up so that it's all I can hear.
At this point, including the train station and the train, I'm lucky if I've gotten 90 total minutes of sleep.
Right now the snorer is off in the lounge car so I've got a bit of room to stretch. No clue how long he'll be gone. But I'm so anxious about when he comes back that I can't sleep. I'm wide awake. If I'm sleeping when he comes back he'll have to climb over me, or wake me. I anticipate either of these situations being an uncomfortable one, so what's the use?
7:59 a.m.
The fat man cometh (back).
8:03 a.m.
Just stopped in Detroit Lakes and some folks got off the train so I was able to snag a double-seat. This may only last until Fargo, but I'll take it. Better sleep.
9:25 a.m.
Finally got a little sleep. The train is stopped in Fargo now so I've really spread myself out on these two seats hoping that if anybody does try to get on this car they will see that I am well established here in my seat and should seek other arrangements.
9:28 a.m.
Easy Cheese & tasty Triscuit crackers? Don't mind if I do!
10:55 a.m.
Leaving Grand Forks one of the train attendants and a passenger are debating the merits of Krispy Kremes vs. Cinnabon. The attendant has emphatically taken he side of Krispy Kremes, while the passenger is currently arguing the delicious nature of the Cinnabon she is currently eating.
Me, I'm a Krispy Kremes guy myself, but would never argue the point against Cinnabon. Not because I don't stand by my opinion, but mostly because I don't care.
1:26 p.m.
Just went through Rugby, ND, The Geographical Center of North America.
Got a good nap between Grand Forks and Devil's Lake. They say we are about an hour from Minot.
I'm glad that I set myself up for disappointment because the first two hours were about as bad as I could have imagined, but since Detroit Lakes when I acquired my own double-seat, things have been fairly delightful. I've been able to stretch out, catch some sleep, dig into the assorted goodies in my cooler and just generally enjoy train travel.
Before I sign off, here is a breakdown of the CD's that I have listened to while on the train.
Tim McGraw "Live Like You Were Dying"
Kenny Chesney "No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem"
Hank Williams, Jr's Greatest Hits
Josho's Disc- a copy of an assortment of non-country songs compiled by me for my cousin a few months ago when he was driving from Arizona to Minnesota.
"It's Okay to Like Country"-a copy of another disc I made for my cousin. All country songs.
Keith Anderson "Three Chord Country, and American Rock & Roll"
Kenny Chesney "When the Sun Goes Down"
Our Lady Peace "Naveed"
Our Lady Peace "Gravity"
2:18 p.m.
Just arrived in Minot. Time to slip on the cowboy hat and boots. Farm, here I come!!!

It's Never a Bad Idea

2005-08-08T01:56:00.000-07:00

A little reflection time is never a bad idea. It clears the head and gives me a chance to solidify some of the ideas I have rolling around in my head.
Being that I'm on vacation from work I'm trying to take some time to do a bit of reflecting.
How about some stream-of-consciousness...
Jeff and I hit the St Paul Saints game on Friday night and enjoyed a beautiful night of outdoor baseball. Not to mention hot dogs, cheese curds and beer. (music playing: "These are a few of my fav-o-rite things." Jeff and I can talk sports, music and movies for hours and it never gets old. The fact that we don't have our own radio or t.v. show yet came up again. I'm not quite sure why this hasn't happened yet. I was reflecting on this later in the weekend and this thought occurred to me: maybe we aren't nearly as entertaining to other people as we are to each other. Then I reflected some more: BAHHHH!!!!
I must have wet my pants 7 or 8 times on Saturday morning. My special lady friend's family was coming into town and were going to be stopping by my place before we all went to a wedding. I don't think I could have been more nervous if the Pope was coming by my place.
Speaking of the Pope, it was a Catholic wedding, but a highly surprising one. No communion, no kneeling, and less than 1 hour! It was the classic Catholic family on one side of the isle, non-Catholic on the other, type of wedding too. Since I went to Catholic high school I can stumble my way through a mass pretty effortlessly and when the priest says certain things I know the correct responses. On the other side of the isle the sign of the cross, the appropriate Amens and "... hear our prayers" were being said, while our side was completely silent.
If you haven't seen Wedding Crashers yet, I would highly recommend it. I couldn't help thinking about it as I saw all of the different kinds of people at the wedding and then reception. Weddings always put people in a good mood and I'm not exactly sure it has to do with the happy couple. Let's be serious here, marriage certainly doesn't hold the reverence that it once did, and if you are at a wedding there's no doubt somebody in the crowd who is cynical (at least) about marriage. But you don't see too many unhappy folks, do ya?
Of course not! We're talking free booze (if you're lucky) and a free meal here! If you're lucky the maid of honor will get drunk enough to cry through her entire contrived speech, the DJ won't play the chicken dance, and one of the groomsmen will do the worm in his rented tux. On top of that everybody is dressed in their best clothes and you know somebody is going to spill red wine on something.
It dawned on me this weekend that topic of conversation that makes me the most uncomfortable is video games. I'm not kidding. At present moment I cannot think of one other topic that makes me more nervous. I'm enough of a guy to know about video games and own a PS2. But ask any of my buddies about me and video games and they'll divulge the awful truth: I'm horrible at all of them. And not only am I horrible at them, but I'm also a sore loser when I play them. It's gotten to the point with me where when the new Madden comes out every year (a practical holiday for many men my age) I just shut down. The weird thing is if somebody asks me "Have you played the new Madden?" I can't just say "no". When I'm asked that question I get fidgety, my palms start sweating and I start to mumble. I start to give my entire video game history, talking about how bad I am at them, about how I owned a Sega Master System when everybody else in my neighborhood owned Nintendo (this was my own choice, and probably the reason that I'm such a video game dunce now). I've brought this sad fate on myself, and I understand that, but I also understand how much easier things would be if I could just get myself to say "no" to that question every August instead of stumbling through an idiotic answer. In any case, if my PS2 didn't play DVD's I would probably get rid of it, but since it does, it's a convenient excuse to keep a video game system in my possession.
Alright, that's enough.

PETA-HAHAHAHAHAHA

2005-08-03T17:28:00.000-07:00

I read an article on Nation's Restaurant News online (okay, so I'm kind of a restaurant geek) today that gave me simultaneous joy and distress.
It seems our good friends over at PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, not the more popular People Eating Tasty Animals) have a problem with a recent commercial being run by fast food chain Carl's Jr. PETA would like Carl's' Jr. to pull the ad from the airwaves.
So what is the commercial? To quote the article: "The TV spot, for CKE's Carl's Jr. chain, uses a voice-over that says chickens are only good for eating. PETA contends such a statement stereotypes chickens as unintelligent and encourages cruelty against them."
I'm going to go ahead and give you a moment to re-read that last statement a couple of times and really let it sink in.
Okay, now I'm going to go ahead and give you a minute to stop laughing.
Now that you are done laughing, I want to apologize for making you laugh so hard that you started choking and experiencing uncontrollable eye-watering. If you can still read this, go ahead and get yourself a tissue and a drink of water.
There. Better?
I'd like to personally thank the fine people over at PETA for never ceasing to give us a good hearty belly-laugh every couple of months.
The statement that chickens are only good for eating encourages cruelty against them. Let's think about this a minute.
First of all, let's deal with issue number 1. If chickens aren't only good for eating, I'd like to know what else exactly they are good for.
A section on the PETA website contends that "some chickens like classic rock, while others like classical music." That must be what chickens are good for... music reviews.
Cock fighting. That's the only thing besides eating that I can think of that chickens are good for. And I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume that PETA isn't too crazy about cock fighting, and if any of them half any ounce of intelligence they are more against cock fighting than eating chickens. But who knows.
After much thought, I honestly cannot think of even one thing that chickens are good for besides eating. Listen, I'm not saying that chickens aren't intelligent animals (because I have no idea), and I'm not saying that they don't have personalities and capabilities that several other animals have (because they probably do, but still... I don't care). But, if we aren't eating the chickens, just what in the sam heck are we going to do with them?
Pets? Sorry, I'll pass on waking up in the middle of the night to that pesky beak poking me in the back.
Zoos? Don't zoos exist only so that we can learn more about animals? Why do we need to learn more about an animal that isn't good for anything but eating if we are going to resolve to not eat them?
So then, since PETA has concluded that chickens are not just good for eating, and in fact we shouldn't be eating them at all, but we cannot figure out any other function that they serve, then must we not conclude that chickens are good for nothing?
Therefore, what are they doing here? Shouldn't we just get rid of all of them and be done with the whole debate so that we don't have to talk about mis-treatment of them any longer?
Who's in?
What should we do, though, with the chickens when we get rid of them?
Should we just eat them to avoid all that messy waste?
Okay, let's move on to the issue that saying that chickens are only good for eating implies that chickens are unintelligent and encourages cruelty against them.
Two big problems with this contention.
First of all, saying that chickens are only good for eating does not imply that they are unintelligent. Saying that chickens are only good for eating simply communicates the fact that whatever intelligence a chicken might have does not outweigh how delicious said chicken would taste with a good dry rub and some buffalo sauce.
Now, if I were to say that chickens are only good for eating BECAUSE they are unintelligent, then you might have an argument. But this has never been said because not only would that be a silly reason to eat chickens (because chickens really ARE only good for eating regardless of their intelligence level) but that argument should also then be made for all other kinds of animals, including humans. By this rationale, stupid people (of which there are many) would also only be good for eating. People like Sinbad, Tony Danza, Aston Kucher and Paris Hilton would all, then, deserve to be eaten. And nobody wants to put that kind of crap in their bodies.
But all of that is just my take.
PETA's page describing the intelligence of chickens and all of the cruelties that they are subjected to only sounds the alarm. In true liberal fashion PETA does not offer any kind of solution except for us to stop eating chicken and top the cruelty.
We have a saying around work: We like vegetarians. They make us laugh.
I feel the same way about PETA.

Introducing Cappy Easter!

2005-07-12T11:11:00.000-07:00

In the past in this space I have introduced my mythical alter-ego Larry Christmas, the swinging, throw-back, Vegas-inspired lounge singer with a taste for Crown Royal and the bright lights. In November of last year, Larry made his public singing debut. Larry was not ready for the stage that night, and was violently thrown into a song that may ultimately spelled his demise.
I've been struggling with Larry ever since that fateful night. I have made up stories about him, toiled endless nights with how his, perhaps ill-fated, career might go on. How I could re-introduce Larry to the masses, without seemingly shoving him down the collective throats of the people who had already chewed him up and spit him out. I was distraught to say the least.
But on a recent camping excursion with my special lady friend to the wooded area of western Wisconsin known as Interstate State Park, in St. Croix Falls, my karoake singing alter-ego took on a new form. It seems that my secret affinity for the bright lights of the stage and the cheering crowds it brings, do not only take on one form.
And so now, I would like to introduce you...
to Cappy Easter.
It was a lovely Friday night just before Independance Day. It had been a beautiful day of biking, campfire meals, games and relaxing, when on our way to pick up some fire wood, I saw this sign.

Nonchalantly I suggested we check it out tonight. Secretly I hoped that Larry would make his triumphant return, simultaneously making his Wisconsin debut.
What happened that night at the Dalles House in St. Croix Falls cannot be explained, but it was, slightly magical.
Sitting down for an adult beverage with my special lady friend, I decided to have a calm look over the binder full of songs which could be sung karoake style by anyone in the establishment. Remembering the debacle that was "New York, New York" just eight months prior, I stayed away from anything with a rising vocal or a high pitch which I might not be able to hit in my current condition.
While I was looking over the book, two things were happening that were out of my control. First, my special lady friend was making friends with the bartender, a cute blonde gal from the area who had proclaimed it was her second-to-last night in the place. Secondly, a change was happening inside of me.
It could have been my mood, my surroundings, the cowboy hat on my head. But more likely it was the consistant proding of my special lady friend and her new buddy for me to sing "Whiskey Girl," by Toby Keith.
I agreed, and my entire body began to shake uncontrolably. But what did I care? Nobody here knew me. If I made a fool of myself I would never have to face these people again. If I was brilliant, I would own them. If I was just like everybody else, they'd go on with their evenings and pay me no attention.
It was 4 singers until my turn came up, giving me plenty of time to run out to the car and get my sunglasses. The new alter-ego forming in my head would not make his stage debut without his good-guy white cowboy hat and the accompanying sunglasses.
As I was introduced I walked cooley toward the stage, all the while shaking. The drunken karoake man handed me the mic. As the cool metel hit my hand and the bright lights hit my face, Cappy Easter emerged, and a slight calm overcame me.
"Whiskey Girl," by musical standards, is by no means a brilliant song. It is not difficult to sing. But I will not lie to you... Cappy was flawless. Even throwing in a slight growl on some words. The crowd was nothing short of mesmerized. Their glazed over eyes said one of two things: either, "This man is a-maz-ing," or "Is this my 13th or 14th beer?"
No matter. I had enjoyed myself, Larry would have been proud, and most importantly... Cappy was born.
Turns out it might not be the bright lights of Vegas that call me and my alter-karoake-siging-ego to the stage. It might be a honky-tonk in Tennesee, or a dirty roadside tavern in Arizona.
Regardless of where my alter-egos take me, or if they take me anywhere at all, one thing is for certain... the dream is still alive.
I give you now... Cappy Easter.

Jared Can Suck It!!!

2005-07-05T20:34:00.000-07:00

In a new Subway commercial, Jared Fogel starts out by proclaiming: "You know what really fries me? The way so many fast food places mess with chicken."
Well you know what really fries me? JARED!!!
I have absolutely had it with Jared and his stupid weight loss and his dumb Subway commercials. I am officially boycotting Subway, and it has nothing to do with their food. It has everything to do with Jared. Won't you join me?
Jared's new idiotic kick is about how so many fast food places fry chicken breasts, then add mayo and all kinds of other things. Jared, of course, makes the astute observation that chicken breasts don't have that much fat to begin with, so why would they want to mess with it and add all that fat.
Apparently as important as Jared is to Subway's marketing campaign, he has absolutely no idea about marketing itself.
So why would these fast food places fry chicken breasts? Why would they bread chicken breasts? Why would they add mayo and other sauces to chicken breasts?
Well Jared, could it be because people like it? Could it be because it sells? Could it be, I don't know, BECAUSE IT TASTES GOOD?
Honestly, Jared acts like he's never eaten a fried chicken sandwich in his life. He acts like a slice of delicious bacon has never crossed his lips. Are you kidding me? Do you really have to ask, Jared, why restaurants make food like this, and why it sells? Don't you remember what made you the fat-a@# you used to be?
Do the people at Subway really think that they are passing on some huge revelation to all the folks in the world who look for a quick meal from time to time? Does Jared, Mr. Self-Righteous Skinny Man, himself think that the average quick serve customer is too dumb to realize, "hmm, I think this breaded and fried chicken breast just might have more fat than a grilled chicken breast."
Look, I'm not saying I'm a skinny guy, and I'm not even saying that I couldn't stand to put down a burger every now and then and eat a delicious cold-cut combo. But do the people at Subway really think that they are giving us some kind a new revelation that is going to change our lives and have us running to Subway?
In any case, Jared can suck it! And so can Subway. Join me in my boycott!

Coming to Grips with The Real Man

2005-05-19T20:34:00.000-07:00

I have a small fear that this blog might turn into some kind of sounding board speaking out for the Real Man. So, in order to show you how much that concern is on my mind, and how concerned I truly am about it, I offer this.
More insight into, The Real Man.
Yeah, that's right. I have no concerns at this point that I am doing the right thing. It seems good and just that I offer to you, my reading public (all 5 of you), more insight into the Real Man.

Have you ever cooked some pasta and while you were cooking it, looked into the fridge to see what you could add to the pasta? If you are a woman, you have likely not done this. Most females would probably not throw pasta into boiling water without first knowing what sauce or seasonings they would add to it. The Real Man, however, does not pay prior concern to sauces or seasonings. The Real Man knows only two meal options: hungry or very hungry.
As the water is already boiling and the pasta is already softening within the boiling water, the Real Man now consults the cupboard and the refrigerator for inspiration.
In the refrigerator is some shredded mozzarella cheese. It's obvious, upon taking notice of the cheese, that the amount of cheese available to the Real Man is far more than is prudently acceptable for the amount of pasta currently cooking.
Suddenly, the Real Man's logic takes over. If he uses only part of the shredded cheese, what will he use the rest of the cheese for? Will the amount of cheese left be enough to satisfy the Real Man during a later meal? Would it be acceptable to end up having to later throw away cheese which was once perfecting eatable?
Even though the cheese available to the Real Man seems to be too much for the pasta being cooked, the Real Man makes his call.
ALL...
of the cheese is added to the pasta.
This, my friends, is the essence of the Real Man.
Prudence. Logic. Future planning. Resource maximation. Extreme enjoyment.
Any questions?

Clarifying the Real Man

2005-05-09T18:05:00.000-07:00

Well, it seems that my post offering up some tips for ladies who may encounter a Real Man has caused a bit of a reaction. While there have only been two replies, I have also talked to a few other people who had an opinion. Because of this, I feel it necessary to clarify my position.
First of all, I would like to point out that I did mention that the Real Man is not afraid of commitment. Not only is the Real Man not afraid of commitment, the Real Man actually welcomes commitment... if the commitment is right. If the commitment is right, this is when the Real Man really shines.
Now, before I go into specifics, you must understand, the Real Man would rather grind down his teeth with a belt sander than go to a Celine Dion concert. And although we may never understand why anyone would enjoy the music of Celine Dion, or, incidentally, the movies of Bette Midler, the Real Man, within the understanding of a commited relationship, is willing to accompany his special lady friend to either of said events because the Real Man stands by his special lady friend and her interests.
If the Real Man is true to himself, his special lady friend already understands that accompanying her to the event is probably nowhere near the top of his list of things he'd like to be doing, but he understands that sometimes his company is requested at such events. The Real Man obliges. However, the Real Man does reserve the right to throw out some good-natured ribbing at the expense of the entertainer during the ride home in the car.
It has also been suggested to me that I was a bit brave for throwing out these tips for dealing with the Real Man. It was said that most men might not be willing to stand up and say such things. Really? Most men? Maybe now you get a clarifying glimpse into the mind of the Real Man. The Real Man wonders why any man wouldn't stand up and say what he believes.
Lastly, I must respond to this sentiment which was given by a lady who was obviously not confident enough in what she had to say to share her name: "What about our tips for the men? I think you all could use some help yourselves."
I do not recall saying that men, even the Real Man, couldn't use some help. I do not claim to have all the answers. The Real Man would welcome some insight into the female psyche. We welcome your tips... if they focus on helping the Real Man understand females, not on your problems with the Real Man. We are working towards an overall better understanding of the female/Real Man relationship. The Real Man welcomes some help.
After all, the Real Man does not strive to be perfect, the Real Man strives to be understood, accepted, and respected for who he is. The Real Man.

2005-05-05T16:31:00.000-07:00

4/29/05: Jer & Josh enjoy an adult beverage and the Metrodome infield. Result: Twins win 7-4 over the Angels. Coincidence?

Some Tips For The Ladies

2005-05-02T18:41:00.000-07:00

Although I have been accused of being crochety more than once, I am not a old. I have also never been married. But I did spend my formative years living in a household with only women. This experience, I believe, allowed me to attain a particular insight into women that few men share.
On the other hand, since I have moved away from home, I have only lived with other men, and more recently, by myself. These experiences have allowed me to understand more closely the everyday dealings of the male.
Combining growing up with only women, then spending several years living with other men, and now, having lived on my own for the past 18 months, I now believe that I have compiled a list of male actions and interactions that the female species might find helpful.
I compile these items for the ladies, so that they can come to grips with having to deal with real men, and I compile these items for the real men, as our collective voice to our female counterparts. I can only hope that my efforts here will make our everyday interactions more amicable.
Here now are some items the ladies should know about the "Real Man."

*Do not take the Real Men's hats off of our heads. If the words, "you can take my hat off of my head," do not come out of our mouths, you do not have permission to take our hats off of our heads, and so, you should refrain from doing so. It's not acceptable. We have spent our entire lives perfecting how we like to wear our hats and we would like you to respect that effort. Also, we like the way you look in hats. But not in our hats.

*The Real Man understands equal rights. We really do. But please, in the name of all that is good, shave your legs.

*While we are on the subject of hair, let's talk about the hair on a lady's head. The Real Man is not afraid of commitment. The Real Man is afraid of short hair. The Real Man is not afraid of marriage, the Real Man is simply afraid that if he marries you, you will cut your hair short. Ladies: do what you would like with this information.

*Please, ladies, get used to the idea that the Real Man might need to learn a lesson the hard way. Generally, telling the Real Man that something is a bad idea does not hit home for us until we realize for ourselves that it is not a good idea. For instance, I just prepared myself some instant mashed potatoes with an expiration date of January 18th, year unknown. As far as I can recall these instant potatoes could have expired any January in the last 3 years. But how harmful can dehydrated potatoes be? So I have just eaten them. If I get sick, I will know exactly how harmful dehydrated potatoes can be, and I will throw them away, never to eat expired instant mashed potatoes again. Lesson learned. Otherwise, they were delicious.

*Please do not ask the Real Man to sit down when he pees. God was loving enough to give us the equipment to pee standing up. We are just working under the assumption that He wants us to use it accordingly.

*Occasionally, the Real Man might eat a meal consisting of the following: potato chips, beef jerky, cheese sauce, a leftover piece of pizza, a leftover taco, a piece of toast with peanut butter and a glass of milk. Just to clarify: Yes, we call that a meal.

*When you watch sports with us, we don't mind if you ask us questions. But if you say that anything about the game, our reactions to it, our rituals when watching it, or what we eat while watching it, is "stupid," "dumb," or "gross;" if you make any comments about uniform styles or colors; or, if you comment about any player's butt, then all bets are off.

*Ladies, in case you find yourself confused in a situation with the Real Man, please consult the following list of answers:
-Yes, it is neccessary to have that many hats, t-shirts and sweatshirts.
-No, we do not think that we should throw out that pair of boxers with a hole in them.
-Yes, it is some kind of "guy thing" to have that many pieces of reading material in the bathroom. That's why they are there.
-No, we do not think that it is "weird" to drink a beer in the shower.
-Yes, we really do think we have room for another (insert junk food here).
-No, we do not think that we have had too much to drink.
-Yes, we think your hair looks great.
-No, we do not think that you look fat in those pants.
-Yes, we really are going to wear those jeans one more time before we wash them.
-No, we do not think that girl is prettier than you.
-Yes, of course we think that girl is dressed trashy.
-No, of course we aren't into "that sort of thing."
-Yes, we do buy whatever kind of shampoo is on sale.
-No, we do not care what we are putting into our hair.
-Yes, we are putting on our hat right after we got out of the shower.

The Real Man hopes this helps.

Middle-Aged Big Hair Big SUV Woman

2005-04-21T22:29:00.000-07:00

As I drove home from work today traffic seemed to be in some kind of backwards state. The roads that are generally packed were mostly wide-open, and the roads that are normally mostly wide-open were suddenly packed.
Normally this wouldn't bother me. It was actually sort of refreshing to not be able to predict exactly when I'm going to have to hit my breaks during my Thursday afternoon commute. It kept me on my toes for a change, which meant that I didn't listen to Garage Logic like I normally do on my way home. Today I bucked all current Jerdogg trends and listened to hip-hop. Listen, I consider myself a pretty hip guy, but truth be told, the only time I generally listen to hip-hop or rap is when I'm at work, because my employees love it, or when I'm shaking my proverbial "money-maker" on the dance floor, rendering the knees of large numbers of ladies weak. In any case, the mood must be right.
But back to traffic.
It wasn't much after it hit me that I had just breezed through a normally gridlocked portion of road when I looked ahead and saw break lights in exactly the spot where I needed to be going. Super. So there I am moving along slowly, enjoying the beats coming from my stereo, on an interchange ramp, when suddenly I see out of the corner of my eye, another vehicle. As I was on a one-lane ramp, this obviously surprised me, so I lunged forward in order to make an exagerated look at this vehicle that was intruding upon my space and obviously about to cut somebody off. Because there was no possible way on this planet that I was going to be the one getting cut off, I also threw both of my hands up in the air so that the driver would see me and realize that she was messing with the wrong fellow.
But when I looked over I realized that neither my lunge nor my hand gestures were going to phaze the driver. That's because when I looked over I saw...
MIDDLE-AGED BIG HAIR BIG SUV WOMAN.
You know exactly who I'm talking about. This is the woman who, in addition to her obvious traits based on her name, is also on her cell phone, and is constantly confused by why everybody else is getting in her way. She of course never realizes that SHE is actually the one who is driving dangerously and getting in everyone else's way.
Once she came to a stop next to me and realized that someone was in the wrong (certainly not her!!!) she finally looked over at me. I, of course, being the conscientious defensive driver that I am, had the appropriate response at the ready: I threw up my left hand in a sweeping upward motion like I was shooing her away, and then promptly called out "JEEEEEZZZ!!!" But of course, middle-aged big hair big SUV woman couldn't hear me, because middle-aged big hair big SUV woman always has her windows up and air-conditioning on.
This occurance, of course, had be quite worked up. I spent the ensuing 5 miles, 14 minutes, complaining only to myself about middle-aged big hair big SUV woman. I got so involved in my personal tirade on middle-aged big hair big SUV woman to no audience that I even turned the music completely off so that I could not only enjoy spewing out my diatribe, but so that I could also feel the full impact of my words and their inflection. Unfortunately I didn't bother to roll the windows up when I turned the music down. This, of course, made me the subject of more than one strange/dirty look.
I was just beginning to calm down as I reached the next crucial portion of road on my commute. As is the norm, the right two lanes of traffic, continuing to the north, were full-on bumper-to-bumper, and the right two lanes, toward downtown, were mostly wide open. As I cruised along the wide open lane closest to the gridlock at a reasonable rate of speed, at this point mostly calm, I suddenly had to slam on my breaks when I realized that a vehicle was completely stopped in my lane of traffic, trying to get over to the right into one of the locked up lanes. Because traffic in the lane to my left was moving quickly, I only had one option, and I braced myself as I came to a complete stop.
As I sat behind this SUV I could feel anger welling up inside of me.
What happened next is slightly embarrassing. I engaged in an all-out display of road-rage. I do not, however, believe I reacted unlike anyone in my situation might have.
I began hitting my steering wheel with both hands over and over as I started to yell, "YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS!!! YOU... CANNOT... BE...SERIOUS!!!"
I was finally able to move over to the left lane and as I passed the SUV my suspicion was confirmed. Middle-aged big hair big SUV woman was completely oblivious to everything around her at the wheel of her blue SUV trying to get over to the right hand side, and her idiocy had almost caused me to rear-end her. This over-processed, over-hairsprayed, perhaps over-paid (probably a realtor), under-prepared to drive a large SUV, woman, had thrown a wrench into my commute twice within 20 minutes because she didn't have the forsight, the defensive driving skills, or the COMMON-F'ING-SENSE, to get over into the lane she wanted to be in with enough time to be able to drive like a normal human being! (It's hard to portray yelling in writing without using all CAPS which I don't like doing, so please re-read the last sentence as if my voice were significantly raised.)
The rest of my commute is mostly a blur, laden in yelling, random steering-wheel hitting, unintelligable babble, angry radio station changing and obscenities that would not be appropriate for print.
But looking back I feel a slight bit of comfort.
When middle-aged big hair big SUV woman almost hit me the first time she ended up behind me on the interchange ramp, but when I almost rear-ended her I was behind her. This means that at some point during my initial tirade, where I berated her incessantly for the arrogant life I imagined that she leads, she passed me.
I can only hope, we can all only hope, that she noticed my screaming, and, at least for a moment, re-evaluated her manuevers.
Just before she realized she wasn't in the lane she wanted to be in and cut me off again.

FOUND!!!

2005-04-13T00:20:00.000-07:00

I was speaking on the phone to my cousin earlier tonight. He mentioned that I had not written in awhile and was concerned that the loss of my cowboy hat had me down for the count. He was right, I have not quite been myself.
But I'm back, baby!
The hole that was left in my heart that had previously been occupied by my cowboy hat was soon filled with the purchase of a new hat. The new hat looks nearly identical to its predecessor in color, shape, etc.
It was, however, a slightly difficult transition. But of course, nobody loses a best friend and finds the recovery, or the replacement, to be simple or quite the same. At least in the beginning. But eventually, things settle down, and you move on with your life, without your friend at your side, or in this case, on your head.
The replacement phase came full circle on Saturday. As I was enjoying an adult beverage among the company of my gal and her friend (also, both adults) I decided to jump on the internet to check out the days sporting current events. For really no reason whatsoever I approached the chair in front of my computer on the left side instead of from the right, how I normally do. I cannot say this for certain, but I am fairly confident that I had never sat down to my computer chair from this direction before.
As I made the motion to pull my chair out from my desk and begin to sit down, I would almost swear that at that moment things went into slow motion. Out of the corner of my eye, next to my desk, between the computer tower and the shelf on the side of the desk, I saw a brief, but vivid, shimmer.
As my derriere hit the chair, the shimmer was implanted on my mind's eye. Still feeling like things were in slow motion, I leaned to my left to see what the shimmer was that had caught my eye.
Regular time then took over as I set my beverage down on the desk, stood up from my chair, took a closer look at what I had seen, and then looked toward my guests and very loudly said "NO @*#&$%* WAY!!!"
"NO @*#&$%* WAY!!!"
"YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE THIS!!!"
I then very slowly (for effect) reached beside the desk and pulled out...
THE MISSING COWBOY HAT!
After a brief moment of confusion by my guests (I don't think that my gal's friend has yet recovered), shock overtook the room. Followed soon by rejoicing, dancing, joke telling, tom-foolery, scullduggery and schnapps.
My special lady friend and I had almost completely turned my entire apartment upside down looking for that hat just a fortnight earlier. I had even looked under my desk, behind my desk and in interior shelf of my desk. But I had not looked next to my computer tower. Quite literally, I believe, the one place in my entire abode that I didn't look, was exactly where it waited for me.
Thinking back, I do remember hearing unfamiliar faint cries at different times while I was on my computer, but I assumed it was my neighbor's cat, who tends to wind up on my patio from time to time. Is it possible that it was not the meow of a cat, but the cry for help from a hat that had grown accustomed to my head? Was my first official cowboy hat crying out for me? And I was ignoring its cries?
I appreciate everyone's concern, and the suggestions about the dust bunnies and the advice to find comfort by drowning myself in country music (which I did). All is well in my world once again. You need not fear. The Quotable Jerdogg is alive and (in true cowboy style) kickin'.

Missing

2005-03-24T21:20:00.000-08:00

A very sad and tragic thing has happened that I feel I need to share with those of you who know me best.
As I have spoken about in this space before, I have turned into quite the fan of country music and things of a western nature. Cowboy hats, cowboy boots, western shirts. These have become the things that catch my eye and cover my body.
Well, tonight, I am sad to report that my cowboy hat is missing.
(I'll give you a moment to let the shock wear off.)
I have no clue where it could possibly be. I have turned my apartment, my truck, even my garage, upside down looking for it. I know this will sound strange to many, but I honestly feel sick to my stomach right now. I cannot explain it.
I keep wandering around my apartment, aimlessly, looking behind, under, on top of, in-between, everything and anything I can think of. Things and places that I've already torn through several times. Like a young boy who has lost his dog, I keep thinking my faithful companion will be just around the corner the next time I look. That he will return to me, to my head, and that I will feel comfortable and complete again.
I know there isn't much to this post. No creativity. I just wanted to share my pain with you.
So please, look closely at the picture to the right. No, stop looking at THAT! Look at the hat. If you have seen this hat please, I beg of you, care for it until we are reunited.

Math Pays

2005-03-21T16:31:00.000-08:00

I know it's been a topic of discussion all over the country and it's probably on your mind right now, so let's just get it out in the open: yes, I am overworked. The old adage would normally go on to say "and underpaid." I suppose that's a matter of opinion. My opinion, for what it's worth, is that people should not be paid based on how smart they are, or even necessarily what work they do. Instead they should be paid based on a complex mathematical formula, which I, and I alone, understand, which looks like this:

((a(b))c / d)e)f
Where:
a=total number of people who could fire you at any given moment
b=your average level of stress while at work (scale 1-5)
c=your average level of anxiety on the way to work
d=average level of relief on the way home from work
e=average number of times per day you shake your head in disbelief over what actually goes on during your day
f=total number of hours worked

I haven't quite figured out how actual dollar amounts play into this equation, but I do know that, with my system, the highest paid professions in the world, in order, would be:
10. doctor
9. president of a nuclear power plant
8. Joan Rivers' plastic surgeon
7. Tony Danza's coy, boyish smile
6. Burt Reynold's mustache
5. Dean Martin's former liver
4. greeting card designer
3. one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest
2. teacher
1. restaurant manager

Obviously, this initial mathematical formula is quite rudimentary. I mean, honestly people, I'm no mathematician. I'm only one man! But eventually there are some other factors that should be worked into this formula.
Time, distance and average stress of commute should probably play a role. Amount of time you spend making your boss look good is most likely a factor, as well as amount of time he/she spends taking credit for the work you have done. The average number of stupid people that you have to deal with on a daily basis (represented by "pi") could send some professions soaring toward the front of the list. On the other hand, a career like professional whirlpool/spa tester could drop off the list completely (meaning nobody should be paid to do this job) if the category of significance to society was somehow added.
In any case the formula is neither perfect, nor complete. But you can most likely rest fairly assured that as long as I'm not working I will probably continue to refine this formula.

To The Extreme I Rock A Mic Like A Vandal

2005-03-07T16:27:00.000-08:00

It's always a good day when you are driving in your car and you hear a song that you love come on the radio. The radio DJ has no obligation to you, doesn't even know you, and yet, unsolicited, he/she has played a song that makes you want to pull over, turn up the stereo, get out of your car and shake your proverbial "bon-bon". Ah... that's flavor country. THAT'S LIVIN'!!!
So you can imagine the immediate joy that overtook me when I heard that familiar Queen sample come through my speakers today. As I reached for the volume button on my Alpine to turn up Vanilla Ice, I started nodding my head in both rhythm and agreement, as I said out loud to no one in particular: "word to your mother."
It was very sunshiney today, so my sense of awareness was particularity heightened as I listened to the song that took me strait back to seventh grade (grade seven for my Canadian readers). Today it wasn't the pure background sampling of Queen's classic "Under Pressure," that excited me, it was how the lyrics of Vanilla Ice landed upon my ear that really kept my head nodding.
An analysis of random lyrics within "Ice Ice Baby":
"Flow like a harpoon, daily and nightly" - I don't know much about harpoons, but I do know that they are used to kill large marine animals. Ice is claiming to "flow" like a tool used to kill whales. Genius! He then goes on to ask:
"Will it ever stop?" Dear heavens, we can only hope. Of course Ice doesn't leave us hanging for long, and helps us with his own quandary...
"Yo, I don't know. Turn off the lights, and I'll glow." In just three lines we see that we have a serious identity crisis on our hands here with young Vanilla. First he is, allegedly, flowing like a harpoon, to which he is not sure he will ever cease, and then he suggests that he glows when the lights are turned off. Ladies and gentlemen, these were my role-models. But he doesn't take long to get back to the real issues of life, and in the process, real us back in.
"Light up the stage and wax a chump like a candle." Now this just makes perfect sense doesn't it? As we can see, Vanilla is planning to change the scheme of his concert act by adding a softer light. I'm not sure who the chump in the equation is, but I can only speculate that Ice isn't happy with his current lighting professional.
Verse 2. "Quick to the point, to the point no fakin'. Cookin' MC's like a pound of bacon." All I can say here is, "you keep it real Vanilla. You keep it real." This is just good ol' fashioned slam rapping at it's best, the likes of which we have not seen since. Am I wrong?
As you know it only gets better from here. The lyrical and vocal stylings that Rob Van Winkle brought to us as Vanilla Ice, without question, shaped a generation. I think you would agree that we should all "take heed," the man is a "lyrical poet." Not only that, but a caring soul. Always the helper, the fixer, the man's man willing to lend a hand, he tells us more than once, "if there was a problem, YO, I'll solve it." And really, what more can you ask from a man but to do his very best, fess up to his issues, and make them right?
So I salute you, Rob Van Winkle, a.k.a. Vanilla Ice. You were right: conducted and formed truly is a hell of a concept.
And as you may have said back in the early 90's: word to YOUR mother, Mr. Van Winkle. Word to your mother, indeed.

I'm Random, Therefore I Am Random

2005-03-01T01:09:00.000-08:00

Here are some random things that are on my mind tonight.
**Disclaimer: I have worked 108 hours in the past two weeks. I'm tired, I'm stressed, and my recent red-meat intake is dangerously low.

*Are you into religious jokes? Yeah, me neither. But here's a good one I heard on the radio tonight:
What do you get when you cross a Jehovah's Witness with a Universalist?
Someone who knocks on doors but doesn't know why.

*As good as "The O.C." is, I'm shocked by how many people are surprised that I rarely miss an episode. I imagine these same people would have been surprised that I used to watch re-runs of "90210" quite religiously. Also, I imagine these people have more exciting lives than I do. Also, I don't care.

*Listen, I don't consider myself a woman-basher, but let me just say this: if you are within 4 feet of a woman who is holding a hammer, I would suggest that you step back and observe her relative control of the tool before you get any closer or help her hold anything that she is planning on hitting with that hammer. Keep in mind too, it may be advisable to devise an excuse to leave the room.

*Is there a situation in life that would not be infinitely more enjoyable with the presence of an ice cold orange soda?

*I did not see one episode of "The Bachelorette," but I understand that she ended her second stint on this reality show by choosing neither of her final two suitors. This happend after she was chosen awhile back as the winner of "The Bachelor," then proceeded to dump the guy who chose her. This hoity-toity little trollup obviously gets her jollies by breaking the hearts of multiple metro-sexual males on national telvision. So here's my question: shouldn't people like this be sucker punched in the stomach by me? (Please don't bother giving me any ethical crap about not hitting girls. NOBODY is immune from the rath of the sucker punch.)

*If there is one phrase that I would enjoy hearing my name follow more than any other, it would have to be: "And now, to introduce the next exciting product from Ron Popeil and Ronco Inventions..."

Good Enough

2005-02-12T07:14:00.000-08:00

Looking in the beverage cooler at work for a cold bottled beverage the other day, I passed on my usual Nestea Cool, and decided to try something different. In what now, looking back, seems like slow motion, I reached toward the top of the cooler for a Diet Coke with Lime. I then looked over the label, reconsidered my decision, and then, ultimately made the plunge into this newly flavored beverage.
So what was my impression? Diet Coke with Lime is the most vile tasting liquid in a bottle that has ever run accross my lips.
This got me to thinking. What is so wrong with regular DC that Coke felt it neccesary to add some lime to it? Obviously they are reaching for more sales. But doesn't it seem only logical that the people who are going to buy DC w/lime are the folks who used to buy regular DC and added lime to it? Doesn't that mean that they will actually be taking sales away from DC in favor of DC w/lime, which is obviously a boring, overthought and ill-advised fad in the first place? Diet Pepsi (a far superior diet cola in my humble opinion) has done the same thing by adding vanilla to their concoction, and when I tried it I could not have been more displeased.
Look, I understand that I'm treading on shaky ground here. I mean, here I am, a self-repsecting, red-blooded American male with a predisposition to all things "man," and I'm debating with myself the merits, or lackthereof, of diet cola fads. If you are a man, and you think I'm crazy, I would urge you to do a test. Get together with a friend and plan to stay in. Grab a bottle of Crown Royal and a two liter of Coke. Proceed with your evening in the manner that seems fit for these liquids. Now, on another night, try the same experiement, same quantities, but replace the regular Coke with Diet Coke or Diet Pepsi. If you don't feel better at the end of the night, and particularily in the morning, without all that sugar in your gut, then you, my friend, will now be known to the world as "Old Iron Side."
But honestly, what's wrong with this world we live in that nothing that is already good or easy, is suddenly not good enough or easy enough and we need to make it moreso?
EasyMac? What is that junk? The regular Kraft Macaroni & Cheese wasn't easy enough? It wasn't good enough? Listen, I could make Mac & Cheese with my eyes closed when I was 12 years old. (My cousins might beg to differ. So I forgot to drain the noodles. I'm sorry! I screwed up ONE TIME!!!) I think I may have learned how to make Mac & Cheese before I learned how to use the toaster.
And while we are on the subject, let's get one thing very clear at this point: there is no such thing as generic mac & cheese. That stuff that you've seen on the shelf claiming to be mac & cheese? Those boxes don't have anything in them. They are meant only to test you, ultimately driving you toward the real deal. Generic mac & cheese does not exist. There is only the blue box. I will tell you that once, in an alternate universe (meaning, when I was first living away from home and I was broke), I had something that claimed to be mac & cheese that didn't come in the blue box. I think it was a yellow box. Not only was the box yellow and not blue, but the cheese-powder wasn't even flourescent orange. It was about the same yellow color as the box. I mean, honestly, what the heck is that?
But I digress.
All I'm saying is that just because it's easier to buy a Diet Coke with the lime already in it, instead of buying the Diet Coke and then also buying a lime, cutting the lime and squeezing it into the Diet Coke, doesn't mean it's better. It just means it's easier. And just because you can put pasta and some cheese sauce in the microwave instead of cooking it over a hot stove, doesn't make it better, just easier.
I implore you: the satisfaction that comes with turning yellow pasta into an orange masterpiece using florescent powder is lost on you if you insist on eating that easy microwavable filth. Also, I worry for the state of your soul.

Meating Happiness

2005-01-21T21:54:00.000-08:00

Earlier tonight I was preparing some leftover tacos to enjoy for my dinner. As my preparation continued it soon became apparent to me that I had enough taco meat for about 5 tacos, but only 3 taco shells. So, I did what any self-respecting, red meat eating, red-blooded American male would do, and should do, in my situation: I piled 5 tacos worth of taco meat into 3 taco shells. Or, as I like to say, I created a taco meat taco extravaganza.
The giddiness that overcame me as I was three bites into the second taco almost caught me off guard. I realized that not only was my mouth happy with the red meat dancing across my tongue, but my entire body was fully ensconced in the experience of these delicious left-over tacos and their meat dominated zest.
The level at which I enjoy red meat might startle some people. I don't believe that I eat more red meat than the average man or woman, but I do believe that I enjoy it more than most. I have often contemplated if it's possible that my brain is actually predisposed to loving red meat. Is there any probability that I have some sort of neuron or chromosomal make-up that others don't have that causes my enjoyment of red meat to multiply when others, sadly, simply merely enjoy a good cut of steak? When others are just swallowing a tender piece of tender roast beef, am I the only one whose spine tingles gently? Whose legs straiten ever so slightly? Am I the only one who experiences the hairs on the back of my neck standing at attention at the very taste of a perfectly medium cooked cheese burger? Am I the only man alive who feels the gentle tickle of a bead of sweat upon my brow as soon as the sultry Mexican seasonings intesifying the naturally luscious flavor of the ground beef within my taco begin their lovely riverdance upon my tongue?
I cannot be the only. I shutter at the thought.