In Through the Out Door

No, it's not a Led Zeppelin post.  But their album provided the best title for this quick entry.

I had a colonoscopy last week.

Nothing but a screening.  My brother Ronnie died from colon cancer 30 years ago this month at age 33.  Since the age of 30, doctors have suggested that I have a screening because of family history.  Like most people, volunteering for a 3 foot long tube with a camera to be shoved up your kiester was not how I wanted to spend a morning.  Not to mention the colon prep activities the day before (Harry in Mary Swanson's bathroom from Dumb and Dumber comes to mind).  But recent events have caused me to think a little more about my health and future.  Plus Prudence and I met our insurance deductible for the year.  So getting the colon flush and anal probe only cost me 10% of the total bill, which eased the pain in my...well, you know.  It's also been a great source of jokes at work.  One of my favorites was Rudiger creating an Outlook appointment on everyone's calendar entitled "Chris' First Colonoscopy".  Location of the "meeting", you ask?  In the butt, of course.

I'm happy to report that for the most part, everything was clean (or as clean as a colon can be).  There were 2 small, pinhead-sized polyps that they were able to remove via a "cold snatch".  The good news is that they don't need to see me for 5 years.  The bad news is that I need to go back in 5.  Actually, the procedure was not bad at all.  The colon pre-treatment didn't keep me up all night like I thought it might.  And I didn't walk out of the doctor's office like I'd been riding a horse all day :) 

In the "end", a pretty successful day.

Dancing In Eternity

In 1973, Dad had an exceptional year selling German farm equipment.  So much so that he and a few others from the sales staff earned a 10-day trip to Germany to tour the plant and take in the beauty of Bavaria.  The trip of a lifetime for a couple that loved to travel.  The picture above was taken at one of their dinner events.  Until recently, I never new my parents danced.  But now its a picture I can't get out of my head.  You see, my dad passed away almost 2 months ago.

It happened on a Sunday afternoon.  Dad had his normal Sunday.  He got up early and went to church with a couple that had faithfully taken him for the last 3 years.  He went to Sunday School and voluntarily tried to read the scripture, although he wasn't able to finish because of his diabetic neuropathy.  Afterwards, he made his 11am phone call to his best Marine Corp buddy Gus.  Then he went to lunch and ate mostly watermelon - one of his favorites.  Sunday afternoon was filled with Cardinal baseball and one of their few wins this season.  At 4:45 or so he started to make his way to supper.  Twenty feet outside his door, he had either a massive heart attack or stroke and was found slumped in his wheelchair a few minutes later by another resident headed to supper.  Local EMTs (actually a nephew and his daughter - my cousins) arrived on the scene too late to do anything.  They took him back to his room and laid him peacefully on his bed until the coroner arrived.  Just like that, he was gone.  While I knew it would happen eventually, I never thought about how or when this day would come.  I do know that I had different plans for that day. 

Dad had had a few incidents the week before with some of the people in charge of his care at the independent care facility he lived in.  Several times in the past he had been reprimanded for traveling down the hallways of the center backward and endangering the safety of the other residents.  Four times in a row that week he disregarded the requests of the administrator to ride down the hallway in his wheelchair going forward.  Each time as soon as she turned her back, he turned around.  At one of the meals he yelled at one of the staff in front of the other residents.  He argued that they weren't changing his bed, or were stealing his sheets.  And he stopped eating tomatoes - something he NEVER turned down.  The staff supervisor noticed that his color was poor and asked him if he felt okay.  He said he was fine.  She later called and told us all that had been happening that week.  Right then I knew that Dad was now beyond taking care of himself.  We had talked earlier in the summer about possible new living arrangements (him moving closer to me) and it looked like that time was now.  I took that Friday off work and visited a couple of the nursing home and assisted living centers in the area and prepared myself for "the talk" which I had in my mind would take place Sunday afternoon.  But on Thursday I had a doctor's appointment in which we began changing my diabetes medicine.  We upped my dosage of glyburide and my blood sugar level over the next 3 days was on a roller coaster ride.  So when Sunday afternoon came around, I felt jittery and nauseous.  I laid down after lunch to take a nap and figured that I'd call Dad after supper and tell him I'd be down to visit him later in the week.  When I awoke, the kids asked if I wanted to go for a bike ride.  I thought the fresh air would do us/me good so off we went.  When we got back, Prudence grabbed my hand and ushered me into our bedroom.  Oma (her mother) had been staying with us, and I figured there had been some sort of argument.  It typically happens about 2-3 days into a stay.  I couldn't have been further from the truth.  That's when she hit me with the news from left field.  The grief was overwhelming.  And what made it even worse was that I'd missed the opportunity to talk with him one last time - all because of an upset tummy.

It's taken a while to come to grips with his passing.  If any of you had been reading my entries over the last year, you know our relationship hadn't been what I'd liked it to be.  Some of it was my fault.  Some was his.  But inthe last few months we had made some great strides in getting back to where we were 2 years prior - and possibly moving into new, uncharted waters.  Just a few weeks before his death, he told me he loved me.  It's something I've always known, but it was the first time I can remember hearing it.  It was in response to the "tough love" talk I had with him a week earlier.  You know the one that's normally broken out into several talks, except I lumped them all together.  I had to tell him he couldn't drive out of town anymore, ask him to allow me to handle his finances (he had missed some bill payments), and suggest that he may need to leave his adopted hometown of 45 years and come live closer to me.  In addition to all this, I broke the family rule and told him that I loved him.  Now he was gone, and I'd never get to tell him I loved him or hear him say he loved me again.

But now as I look at it, I realize I'd been given a gift.  I didn't have to throw away all the progress our relationship had made with fights over driving, money and moving.  I don't live with the guilt that I most assuredly would have felt if I had made the trip that Sunday and laid out the grand plan to him only to have him pass after he heard the news.  And I have a wonderful memory of Dad telling me that he loved me.  Sure I miss him and I wish he were still here.  But looking back, God had better things planned.

And speaking of God, I come back to the picture which opened this post.  Ever since Mom passed in 2004, there's been a hole in Dad's heart that couldn't be filled by anyone but her.  Now he's reunited with her in eternity.  And they're dancing every day in His presence.   I can't think of any better ending...or beginning.

Focus and Clarity

Everyone and their brother has something to say about Harry Potter. You can't swing a dead computer mouse without hitting a news sight or blog (no offense CL, Fasty, or Christy) that talks about their love for the be-speckled sorcerer. And with good reason. JK Rowling spun an epic and entertaining tale that brought many back to papyrus.

But I think we've lost sight of the true hero of the summer: Jonathan. He brought focus and clarity to the Internet and a smile to our faces with his simple statement of affection for our special reptile friends who live in their shells - much to the chagrin of Denise (may or may not be her name), the Action Channel 8 news reporter covering his antics. How quickly we forget...

So, without further ado, I reintroduce to you (for the eleventy billionth time): Jonathan, the "I like turtles" boy!

I Promised Crap...

...and I deliver!

Made of genuine cow manure from the Keystone State of Pennsylvania and sculpted by Amish dairy farmers, this poopet is perched on the binder bin above my desk. Even tho the odor was removed, it keeps all the texture of the original cow pie that spawned it - including straw and corn. It's eyes are soy beens. Normally you'd find him in a garden or lanscaping fertilizing the plants around him, but his job is much more important in my cube. He promotes interesting conversation, independent thought and scares dimwitted management away from my workspace.

Stay tuned for more "Things from Chris' desk"!

Quickie

We're getting ready for our annual Fourth of July trip to Prudence's parents home in south central Michigan.  We'll be gone a week.  Outside of another 2 day trip to The Henry Ford (our membership - which was cheaper than buying 2 day passes the last time we went - expires 7/6 so we're gonna squeeze a couple more visits in), a whole lot of nothin' will be going on.  We'll play pool (the billiards kind), fish, swim, and do some boating.  We'll attend their small town Fourth celebration and parade - complete with 20-30 tractors, fire trucks, Shriners, horses (and their crap), 2 or 3 marching bands, and some quickly put together floats.  The kids will actually ride in one sponsored by the Kiwanis group Pru's parents belong to.  Looking forward to my mother in law's cooking - German potato salad, cucumber salad, asparagus, etc. - and eating a steak or 2 on the grill. When not doing family stuff, I plan to read, write a post or 2 (several things on my mind), FINALLY organize pictures from Hawaii, and spend some quality time with my beautiful wife.  As I look at what I just typed, it doesn't look very relaxing.  So I better build some sleep time in there as well.  If anyone figures out how to get more than 24 hours out of a day, please let me know :)

But my intention tonight was not to sit down and give you an itinerary of my weekend.  There's a quick story and picture I need to share.  Sometime in the last couple of weeks, Weimie shared an embarrassing story about The Thing That Grew in the Garage Fridge.  It made me think of a few food items in my desk at work that will soon be teenagers.  Let me introduce you to... Banana, Orange, and Mustard Packets.

Banana is the oldest of the group.  Back in the early 1990, when I could still show some restraint in my eating, I occasionally brought in some healthy snack choices.  Banana was one of them.  But apparently there must have been Hostess snack cakes in the vending machine that day and I forgot he was in my desk drawer.  It wasn't until about a year later that I found him when I was moving to a new job within the company.  He was in pretty much the same condition as you see him here.  There may have been a faint odor to him, but you had to get close to smell it.  Since it had lasted this long, and I have a penchant for novelty items like this, I decided to keep him wherever I went in the company.  So here he is at age 12 (going on 13).

Orange's story is similar to B's.  But he was created on purpose.  A coworker who knew about banana "planted" O in my desk, and he wasn't found for 6-8 months later.  He went thru some odd smells.  At first he was rotten, then he became somewhat of a potpourri item.  Ultimately he was left with no smell...which is good thing.  He's about 10 years old.  He gained a 1/2 brother (not pictured) about 8-9 years ago when someone else brought some rotting fruit to my desk.  They could sense I had a soft spot for garbage.

Mustard Packets was given to me 3 years ago when I joined my current work group.  One of the guys after hearing the story of Banana and Orange, brought out his own collection of expired condiment packets and asked that they join the menagerie in my desk.  Who knows how old they are, but then again who cares?  I kinda felt like a parent of 10 kids expecting number 11: what's another biohazard added to the mix?

So there you have it, Weims.  The story of the rancid desk fruit.  Sometime I'll have to share a picture of the crap (yes, literally CRAP) I have on my bookshelf...

I hope everyone has a fun and safe Fourth of July!  See you in a week or so!

A Cry for Help

You know you've got an eating problem when

• You spend the last $8 in your pocket on as many 50 cent legs as it will buy.
• You know that Zingers are a better deal than Ding Dongs by .25 oz in the vending machine.
• You profess your love for salt.
• To back up that love, you (on a dare) eat an entire salt packet straight (but vow to never do that again!)
• To further cement that love, you dip fries in salt instead of ketchup.
• To save you from a love gone wrong, your wife tapes shut 2/3 of the holes in the salt shaker from the inside with clear tape.
• And you catch on after 2 meals.
• You buy an entire roasted chicken at Sam's Club(for $5) and eat 2/3 for lunch because you don't like their regular menu.
• You buy "value" boxes of Snickers (48/box) and Ding Dongs (24/box) from Sam's Club and keep them in your desk.
• You eat a donut from a 11/12ths full box of donuts left BY (not in) the trash receptical on another floor at work.
• You bring a 10 gallon Rubbermaid container to "Bring Your Own Container "day at the local movie theater and have it filled with popcorn for $.53…and don't even see a movie. Done at least 5 times.
• You like your mashed potatoes with a very yellow, buttery tint.
• You like to drink pickle juice and the leftover liquid from green beens, onions, and bacon grease.
• You consider some foods as "vehicles" for condoments:
• Tomatoes --> salt
• French Fries --> salt
• Bread --> butter
• Lettuce --> ranch salad dressing
• Corn on the Cob --> butter and salt
• Crackers --> butter and salt
• Special instructions: dip the cracker in a tub of butter, use your tongue to spread said butter uniformly, salt then eat.
• You think that the pig is the perfect animal to eat.
• You eat at KFC for the skin.

Added by the lunch crew (within 5 minutes of seeing the above list):

• You get excited when certain people go to lunch with you that you know will not finish their meal, and they offer the rest to you.
• You get excited at Wendy’s because they have bigger ketchup containers.
• You call dibs on the Krispy Kreme box after it is empty of donuts to pick at the frosting stuck in the bottom of it.
• You at 100 shrimp during Shrimp Fest at Red Lobster… for lunch.
• You suspect you were the reason that the "all-you-can-eat" soup bars in town are no longer "all-you-can-eat".
• You post the rules and records for the IFOCE (Internation Federation of Competitive Eating) outside your cube.
• You consider a sleeve of Girl Scout cookies one serving.
• You were miserable eating 3 big slices of pizza, yet still found room for an ice cream cone.
• You email Hardees to thank them when they went back to promoting burgers.
• You frequent McDonalds enough to feel obligated to give the help Christmas gift cards.

To quote the Captain from The Simpsons: "He's more beast than man".

I guess the first step in recovery is admitting you have a problem…

Awesome Dad

Today our pastor shared the story and video below of Dick Hoyt and his son, Richard Jr. Their story can be found on their website: http://www.teamhoyt.com/. MSN is also featuring a tribute from Richard Jr. to his dad. It was just too moving not to share. Be prepared - you'll need Kleenex!

Have a great Father's Day!

"I collect spores, mold and fungus..."

I fully expected to match Burl Ives at about 80-90%, but I am a big Harold Ramis fan. Thanks again to Aynde!

"A-B-C! It's Easy as 1-2-3!"

Thank goodness Aynde tagged me on this. I've wanted to post something since last week but everything I wanted to write about would take long to compose. Uggh! I wish I could write something without it becoming "War and Peace" in my head. This was short and fun!

So here you have my ABCs. Can't ever say that without thinking of the Jackson 5. Hope it's in your head just like it's in mine :)

A - Attached or single? Attached. To Prudence for 19 years. She's my better 9/10ths...

B - Best friend? Prudence.

C - Cake or pie? Do I have to choose? Well, since there's no gun to my head, it's Panda's Cherry Pie and Mom's Chocolate Cake.

D - Drink of choice? Diet Pepsi, but I hate this choice. Rather have the leaded stuff, but my pancreas has other ideas.

E - Essential item? TV. Or radio.

F - Favorite color? Again, no gun: Orange and Blue!

G - Gummi bears or worms? Bears, but I prefer my candy in bars with lots of chocolate.

H - Hometown? An Native American named town south of Decatur in Central Illinois that means "Muddy Water". Just hate to name it because of search engines. It's the "one and only"!

I - Indulgence? It's like the Academy Awards: I feel like I'd be leaving someone out. But if I HAD name the top 3 (via said gun): gyros, Edy's Double Chocolate Fudge ice cream, and Hostess Ding Dongs.

J – Jail, Been There? Nope, but I was scared straight as a 4th grader on a visit to our county pokey.

K - Kids? 3 - Panda, The Boy, and Em.

L - Life is incomplete without? Prudence.

M - Marriage date? June 4th.

N - Number of siblings? 1 sister and 2 brothers - all at least 16 years older than me, so at times they're more like aunts and uncles.

O - Oranges or apples? Oranges. And they're best in juice form.

P - Phobia/fears? Ventriloquist dummies.

Q - Favorite quote? Almost every line in Stripes, Dumb and Dumber and O Brother Where Art Thou.

R - Reasons to smile? Too many to name. I like to smile A LOT!

S - Season? Summer - baseball, swimming, vacation, shorts...

T - Tag three. Bill, Weimie, and Jean. But anyone should feel free to do it.

U - Unknown fact about me? I was the valedictorian of my class...of 62 people. But we all rode the short bus.

V - Vegetarian or oppressor of animals? You can eat stuff from plants? Oppressor of Animals, of course! Reminds me to write an ode to the pig.

W - Worst habit? Cleaning my kid's plates. It's easily added 20lbs to my frame...

X - X-rays or ultrasounds?? X-Rays. Never been pregnant.

Y – Can you Yo-Yo? Used to Yo-Yo, but now? No-no.

Z - Zodiac? "It's the age of …"

"Goin' to the Chapel..." - 19 year later!

Taking a page from The Librarian's blog and reposting and entry from my Spaces blog.

Prudence and I celebrated our anniversary yesterday with a movie (Spider-man 3) and dinner (Fiesta Ranchera). No Zorba's this weekend - trying to watch our milage these days. Panda watched her brother and sister...and no one was killed. All-in-all, it was a success! Tonight we get to celebrate on our new memory foam mattress topper :) Happy Anniversary, Honey!!!

And while digging this one up, I re-read the comments and remembered that you can stop by and congratulate Christy and Cowboy on their anniversary as well!

Memories related to our 6/4/1988 wedding date:

• The month prior to the wedding saw me receive my first 2 speeding tickets. The first happened while heading down to my hometown to solidify some arrangements. I was the last in a line of people speeding – and the easiest to nab. The second happened the Thursday before the wedding on Saturday. Prudence was to deliver some sheet music to our new vocalist (the other came up with laryngitis), but she forgot. So she asked me to run the errand. I was in a hurry to drop off the music and pick up pizza (Godfathers – our favorite at the time) and went 40 in a 30. I tried to weasel out of the ticket – tried to use the “I’m getting married this weekend and going to drive on my honeymoon” in order to keep my license, but it didn’t work. Probably should have shown some leg or something…
• No wedding planner, so Prudence and I came up with the wedding program/scorebook. I listed her sister as the “Matron of honor” because I thought that sounded more formal. I later found out it meant that the “maid of honor” was married. Which she wasn’t. I still take grief about that from time to time.
• I was okay until about 10 minutes before the ceremony when I started to freak out at the whole commitment thing – the rest of my life with this woman? Pacing frantically in the alcove at the front of the sanctuary. Speaking in loud and hurried speech. The minister (who was also a very good friend of mine) settled me down enough to get me out on the stage. As the bridesmaids came down the isle, I started to calm down. Then when Prudence and her dad began their walk, my heart immediately went calm. It was like no one else was there. Only her. And that was a cool as it gets.
• During the lighting of the unity candle, Prudence and I had some time to talk quietly – just between us. Many people have asked us what we were talking about. That’s our little secret.
• After the wedding, we had a dinner (or was it supper?). Because I insisted in the tradition of not seeing the bride before the wedding, we took all our pictures after the ceremony. So we were late to our own dinner, and most people had finished by the time we got there. I’ll regret that as long as I live.
• My grandparents from Iowa were able to make it to the wedding. We had a number of great pictures taken of and with them. The next year, on my birthday, my grandfather died of a heart attack. Our pictures are the only professional pictures of him left, and I’ll be forever thankful of that.
  
• My sky-blue 1979 Cutlass was covered in Oreo cookies when we left the church. Most of them stayed on during our drive to Chicago for our wedding night at a Days Inn off Halstead Avenue. We washed them off the next morning.
  
• My car had been in an accident before the wedding and still had a can of paint left in the drunk from the paint job. I forgot to take it out before we left. Somewhere along the line it tipped over and drained out below the rear quarter panel and onto the hotel parking lot. We drive by the hotel every once in a while on our way to Michigan to visit her parents and I think of this every time.
• We went to Niagara Falls for our honeymoon (again, the traditionalist in me). About 30 miles from the Falls, my radiator went out. We nursed the car into town and had to make arrangements to get it fixed. The concierge at the hotel got a case of his favorite beer.
• We were on our honeymoon for 10 days and only stayed consecutive nights in the same hotel once. This drove Prudence crazy. To get back at me, she spilled something on the floor in every room we stayed at. This has become an inside joke for us when we travel.
• We also visited Boston, the Cape, and NYC on our honeymoon.
• The Cards played the Mets at Shea Stadium on Monday, June 13th. We had planned to leave for home on Monday but I talked her into staying one extra day for the game. Romantic, aren’t I? The only catch is that we would have to drive straight home after the game. The game went into extra innings and we left NYC at Midnight. We had NO IDEA how to get out of the city. Unfortunately we took a wrong exit off a bridge and ended up in a questionable part of the city with only a few working stoplights and streetlights. We pulled up to one red light and heard what we thought were gunshots down the road to our right. So I went thru the light. At the next light, we came across a truck stopped in the middle of the intersection. The driver’s door was open, the engine was still running and no driver to be found. I ran thru this light, too. We finally found a truck route sign and followed it out of “Mr. Robinson’s Neighborhood”.
• I drove until 5am and got us to somewhere in PA on the turnpike. I asked Prudence, who had been sleeping the entire way, to drive for me while I caught some Zs in the back seat. When I woke up 4 hours later, we were stopped along side the road in a rest area and a cop was walking away from our car. She’d become too sleepy to drive and had pulled over to rest. From 5am to 9am, we traveled only 75 miles. The rest of the way home we took turns driving 1-2 hours at a time. We haven’t attempted a straight-thru drive since.
• We paid so many tolls on our drive home that on our first night at home, I rolled over in the middle of the night and asked Prudence for toll money.
• Sometime later in the week after we returned home, Prudence woke me up in the middle of the night to let me know that she heard something outside (we slept with our windows open for a breeze) and was worried a woman was in trouble. Not wanting to be bothered but still concerned with the woman’s welfare, I told her to call the police. After she got off the phone, I finally woke up enough to hear what she was worried about. The woman was not in trouble. She was definitely “enjoying herself” and her time with a guy named Mike in an apartment 2 floors up. When the police arrived, I told them what my wife heard (that was strange to say at the time!) and that they probably didn’t need to investigate any further. But because they just can’t take my word for it, they paid a visit to the couple in 3B. Shortly after the cops left, I heard the woman laughing louder than I’ve ever heard anyone laugh before – including me. Dare I say that Prudence then challenged me to “be like Mike”?

Happy Anniversary, Prudence! I love you!

So when do I get my mane?

"I'm rather proud of my mane of ... hair."
Ron Burgendy

No, not THAT mane! (Although it is the first thing I think about when I hear the word - it's one of the most hilarious scenes in Anchorman.) I'm talkin' about the kind that whips around when driving in a convertible. The kind that demands a hair dryer, makes you go to a beautician vs a barber, and that makes guys who have one think mullets are a good look.

Most of you know that my hair started abandoning me sometime in the late 80s. I can't remember if I told this story before, but the first time I realized I had a bald spot was in a mirrored elevator in New Orleans in 1993. Beginning in 1999 I stopped going to someone else to get my hair cut and bought a set of clippers.

Even though it sounds like I'm bitter, really I'm not. About the only time I thought that my hair was something that helped "define me" was in high school. But like most kids of that age, image is everything. College and real life changed that. The thing I miss most about my hair is that I no longer have a cushion between my scalp and my baseball hats. I wear them all the time - especially when I work outside - and they all start reaking after a couple of months of sweat. If someone has a solution to this problem, I'd love to hear it. Then I'd be totally satisfied with my melon. Other than that, I use less shampoo & conditioner, don't have to use a hair dryer, and can cut it myself. What could be better for a guy that hates maintenance? But apparently I hadn't made this clear to my bride...

Over the last year or so, Prudence has been using a hair product recommended by her beautician to help control and possibly reverse some hair thinning she's experienced. But she's been unhappy with the results. So she began investigating other options and ran across this one in our own back yard (per se). It's called Resthairation and it was recently written up in our local paper. After researching the product (it's developed by a hairdresser with all-natural herbs and has a full money back guarantee, which are huge pluses for her), she thought she'd give it a try. Then they presented her with a special deal for the man of the house. She'd probably heard me joke one too many times about my hairless noggin, and possibly saw this testimonial (which is freakeshly similar to my condition) and decided I should give it a try. So she laid the new scalp care regiment on me:

• Use the new shampoo
• Leave it on for 5 minutes
• Use the new conditioner
• After drying off, reapply the new conditioner and leave it on to soak into the scalp
• Apply another "coat" before bedtime

My first reaction was, "you gotta be kidding me!" Going from something just above bar soap to multiple applications of an herbal-based, home-made concoction not mass-produced by Johnson & Johnson©? And since when does my sensible wife buy into infomercial-type advertising? But then she gave me the look that says "do it for me" (not to mention the price tag - YOUCH!) and I caved.

Before I go any further, I need to point out that this isn't about Prudence wanting a new man. She's perfectly content with the balding, middle-aged guy she's promised to cohabitate with for the rest of her life. She only has my best interest at heart. Or so she says :) Anywho...

Once she finished her spiel, I went to take a shower. I'd worked a long afternoon in the yard at the duplex (which may be a post for another day) and really stunk it up. I told Prudence to take a good look at me - it might be the last time she'd see me like this. I might come out with a flowing mane like Homer Simpson on Dimoxonil. After dodging her right hook, I started my shower. Here are some of the thoughts that went thru my head that night and ever since:

• Need to use less than a dime shape's worth of shampoo and conditioner (did I mention that this stuff costs a lot of money?)
• Is there a coin smaller than a dime (again, I'm cheap)
• The shampoo smells Lestoil-ish
• What if I end up looking like Fabio?
• I have to leave this stuff on for 5 minutes. What am I going to do in the shower for 5 minutes (since I'm no longer 13 or single)?
• Hey, this stuff is running down my neck and face. I don't need any more ear and nose hair. What other hair will I get? Unibrow? Apeman?
• Has anything come in yet?

So 3 weeks later, I'm waiting for my mane. Just the other day Prudence noticed a long, extremely thin hair and wanted to pluck it out. What? I thought this is what we were working for. Then she said, "it's on your nose". Sure enough, a white hair about an inch long was there on the tip of my shnoz - visible only at certain angles. Suck.

If this is where it's headed, I want my bar of soap back...

Bark At You Later

Every morning before work I take the dog for a walk around the neighborhood. At the very least we go around the block. Most days we make a loop around the grounds of the church we attend about a block away. He hunts for critters and "marks" his usual spots. He drags me around to the point that I could practically live at the chiropractor's office. But what he really lives for is for barking at Jake.

Jake is a 15 year old yellow lab (that's 105 to you and me) that lives in a 20'x20' chain link fenced area in his owner's backyard. The yard backs up to one of the roads Lance and I walk down every morning. During the winter, his owners keep him in their garage. He starts staying out in the yard over night once the weather gets nice. Being an old dog, Jake doesn't move around much. When he does, its much like Tim Conway's Old Man character from the Carol Burnett Show. Unless he sees or hears Lance. Then he forgets any aches and pains he might have and starts lunging and barking in our general direction. Lance returns the action with a fierce bark and a quick pull on his lead that almost says "let me at 'im". After 3-5 good deep barks, Jake starts hacking up a lung and quietly strolls back to his shelter and Lance returns to his standard sniffing and peeing. This happens on every walk - almost like clockwork. The only thing that varies is who initiates the jawing. Sometimes Jake is walking in his yard and spots Lance first, but most of the time its Lance that starts stalking him about 30-40 yards away. His ears perk up and he starts getting a prance to his stride. When he hits the road, he starts jumping and barking, trying to catch Jake off guard. Secretly, I think he's trying to give him a heart attack. I'd feel awful if that happened, so I'm going to pretend I didn't say that. Anyway, today was different.

Lance and I started down the sidewalk like any other day. He saw his foe and began his stalking moves. Ears up. High stepping all the way. Jake had his back to us walking his yard. Perfect! Lance begins to pick up his steps. I prepare for my arm to be pulled out of its socket. And then it happens. Something I don't remember ever seeing, but I'm sure it happens every day. Jake squats to take a dump. And Lance pauses. Out of respect or out of awe (it was a BIG pile!), I couldn't say. But he stopped dead in his tracks and just waited. And waited. And waited. It seemed like an eternity, but I'm sure it was only 5-10 seconds. However long it was, it was too long for Lance. He just turned and headed the other way. Jake never saw us. Maybe he pushed so hard he blinded himself. Whatever it was, there was no barking today.

But at least Jake will live to bark another day.

Mom Memories

As I sit here on the eve of Mother's Day, I thought I'd share some memories about my mom.

• As a little shaver on a snowy day, Mom would pull me around our block on my sled.
• On rainy summer days with big mud puddles and rain-filled ditches, she'd let me ride and play outside without getting too mad.
• In 2nd or 3rd grade, our school (K-12 in one building) celebrated homecoming with a box decorating contest. The boxes looked like miniature parade floats and symbolized our victory over the hated Ironmen. I, like many kids, told Mom about the contest way later than I should have. But that didn't faze her. Drawing from life experience, she came up with an idea of hanging the Ironmen "out to dry" and helped me build a clothesline on a football field with the team's name hanging on it. Aw, who am I kidding, she did 95% of it. And it came in 2nd place.
• Mom, instead of Dad, taught me to mow. She later helped me get mowing jobs around town and would usually help me by trimming around trees and landscaping.
• During the summer months, Mom (and my sister - 22 years my senior) took me and my cousins to see about every Disney film. "The World's Greatest Athlete" and "Bedknobs and Broomsticks" stick out as favorites.
• Mom made the best beef noodles in the world. Thankfully, Prudence studied her "pinch of this" and "dab of that" method of cooking it to the point that her's taste just like Mom's. Can't thank her enough. Panda's learning to make it now.
• In the 2nd grade I was diagnosed with a lazy eye. The doctor gave Mom a set of eye exercises to work thru with me. He didn't think she'd stick with it, but 6 months later I was glasses-free. And I remained so until my freshman year of college.
• Every morning thru high school, mom would wake me up at 7:10 and tell me it was 7:15, knowing that I wouldn't get up until the second call. Then as I made my way to the breakfast table with my eyes shut like a mole, she'd greet me with "Good morning, Sunshine!"
• When she made my lunch for school, she always made a ham sandwich (cut in half - rectangularly), a bag of chips, and a Ding Dong.
• During the first semester of my sophomore year at college, I found it easier to goof around with friends than do my schoolwork. After a month into the semester, I felt like there was no way I could catch up and considered dropping out. Mom (and Dad) drove to Champaign, took me out for Godfather's Pizza, talked me down from the ledge lovingly, and helped me get focused to catch up.
• The year that we considered Mom might be in the beginning stages of Alzheimer's was the year that Prudence and I were expecting our first child. To announce the blessed event-to-be, we took advantage of a visit from her parents to have all the future grandparents over for supper. We made place cards for the dining room table with titles like "Grandma W" or "Oma P". Because we often joked that our dog was our kid, almost everyone thought we were making references to him. But Mom, the one that was the most confused of all of us, was clear for that meal and realized immediately what the place cards meant and ran to give Prudence and I a hug. A moment I'll never forget.
• Most of the memories beyond that point aren't as pleasant, but I do remember the last smile she gave me on a visit to her in the nursing home. It was about 2 years before she died.

I love you, Mom. Happy Mother's Day.

My Current Musical Obsession

I've been listening to Fountains of Wayne for years and I think they're fabulous!

Actually, I haven't. I've only been listening to them for 2 months, but it feels like much longer. And it may be more like 10 years. Let me explain...

This past Christmas I received a $30 gift card for Rhapsody's music service for some downloads. In order to use the service, I had to sign up for their basic account, which includes 25 free plays from their website each month. Being somewhat of a "techno-pi-rate", I've been using some specialized audio software in conjunction with the free plays to complete some music collections (in January I recorded my favorite Partridge Family songs and created my own greatest hits compilation) and try out some new music. While going thru some computer files, I ran across a WMV version of "Stacy's Mom" video someone sent me when it came out - before the advent of YouTube. Back then, I probably listened to it for 2-3 days straight. The tune was so catchy and hilarious - not to mention Rachel Hunters performance. But I wrote FoW (how REAL fans refer to them) off as a one hit wonders and never checked out any of their other recordings. Big mistake. So when I saw the file, I made a mental note-to-self to check them out in March.

Late one night in February after a long day of snow blowing, I recorded "Welcome Interstate Managers" to my Zen for work the next day. I then preceded to listened to it for 3 days straight! Every song on the album is a hit, but my favorites are "Hey Julie" (one of my favorite love songs) and "All Kinds of Time" (with song lyrics based on football play-by-play). I started researching their other albums and found out they'd been together since 1996! How did a band this great fly under the radar for so long? Fortunately I'd found them with a pretty good catalog of music - 3 other albums (one being a 2 album set) and one coming out soon (April 3rd). I had enough free plays to make my own copy of one of their first 2 albums, but I'd have to buy the other 2. Or wait for the next 2-3 months to compile enough free plays for the other albums.

Interlude... I don't make it a habit of recording music this way. Normally, if I like a artist/group, I'll buy their stuff. It just so happens that I need to keep inexpensive gift giving options available to the wife and kids. Father's day is coming up...but I couldn't wait until June! So I recorded what I could until I get originals in my hand. Now back to the story.

So I recorded "Utopia Parkway" - with my favorite song of theirs, "Red Dragon Tattoo" - before our trip and bought a copy of "Out-of-State Plates" - which has one of the funniest songs I've heard in "Maureen" and a song I can relate to in "Baby I've Changed". When we got back, my free plays had reset and I recorded their debut "Fountains of Wayne". By then it was April 3rd and "Traffic and Weather" was available, so I bought it.

Now I had all 86 tracks of their published music. But that still wasn't enough. While obsessing about the group one day while Googling, I saw that FoW made an appearance on an NPR program and that the good people of NPR were making the audio available with the click of a button. You know what that meant: more recording. Then I saw that they would be hosting an XM Loft Session. 45 minutes more of acoustic Adam and Chris - the brains behind the group. Further searches turn up nothing more. So I think that I have all I can get...for now.

With only a couple of exceptions - in my car and at home - this is all that I've been listening to. It's not the first time it's happened to me. Other artists and/or groups to have been the object of my obsession are: Elvis Costello, Squeeze (both of which were referenced by FoW during their Loft Session - a huge plus), The Police, REM, Bob Marley, The Bangles, Steely Dan, The Guess Who, Bruce Springsteen, and of course, The Beatles. They're in pretty good company in my opinion.

If you feel inclined to check them out beyond "Stacy's Mom", I'd suggest you listen to "Welcome Interstate Managers" first. Its loaded with great music that will appeal to a wide audience. If you want to hear more of their guitar work, move on to "Utopia Parkway" or their self-titled album. If you want more evolved sounds, take a listen to their newest, "Traffic and Weather". Many of the people who have been with them from the beginning are disappointed by their last 2 efforts because they feel they've abandoned their roots of solid guitar pop. And to some extent they may be right. But would they rather have had The Beatles stay in the "Love Me Do" phase and never create "Sgt. Peppers" or "Abbey Road"? Or how about Bob Dylan sticking with "Baby Let Me Follow You Down" (which is a great song!) and never see him record "Tangled Up in Blue" (my personal favorite of his)? And I suppose REM was to continue "Murmur"-ing and never go "Out of Time". I don't think so. So don't listen to early fans that want things to stay the same. Both of these efforts are great. And so is their earlier work. Try it all. Who knows, maybe you'll obsess over them, too...

And I didn't forget my 10 years ago reference. Does anyone remember "That Thing You Do" - the movie written and directed by Tom Hanks? It followed the short career of a fictitious 1960s one-hit-wonder group called The Wonders and their hit "That Thing You Do". Even thou I didn't see the movie until 2 years after it had come out, I owned a copy of the soundtrack based on the title track shortly after it came out. The title track was so infectious! During my research on FoW, I found that Adam Schlesinger, one of FoW's primary songwriters, wrote the song. So, to some extent, I HAVE been listening to them for years...and I think their FABULOUS!

Life Lessons

Among the toys The Boy received for Christmas this year was the Lego version of Darth Vader's Tie Fighter.  He's only seen each movie once or twice (except for Episode III, which he hasn't seen yet - not sure his sister could handle the ending) but is totally plugged in to the mythos.  Playing hours of Lego Star Wars on the Playstation 2 nurtured it, but building his own ship just cemented his love for the saga.  And made him thirsty for more.  For his birthday, he asked for and received the Lego versions of the X-Wing fighter and General Grievous' starfighter.  But in between then, he lobbied to buy an Imperial AT ST with his own hard earned can-crushing money.

We tried to dissuade him, citing all the toys he had just received at Christmas and the gifts he was sure to receive for his birthday in March.  Even if he didn't receive it from us, he might from one of his aunts or uncles. I also explained to him that if he bought it, he'd wipe out nearly all the money he had saved up to that point.  If he spent it, he'd have to save longer for purchases like the laser dart tag and Lego Star Wars II video game that he'd been talking about longer than the Lego model.  Words like these seemed to fall from my mouth much too easy.  With good reason.  They were the same ones my dad would use on me time and time again when I had money burning a hole in my pocket.  Now I know that he was trying to build a good financial decision foundation in his son.  But back then I resented it.  It seemed he brought it up with every purchase I wanted to make, to the point that I rarely bought anything and spent Saturday mornings counting quarters ($.75/week allowance) like King Midas.  This lasted until college when I had my own job and cheap access to used records.  But that's a story for another day.  I promised myself that I would never use those words to manipulate (which is what I thought happened to me) - only to educate.  So when I heard myself begin Dad's diatribe, I changed it to become a dialoge.  After explaining the principles of "which do you want more", I asked him if he understood and never brought it up again.  It seemed to work until we got back from vacation and he saw the girls celebrating their birthdays with gifts.  The "can I buy it now?" question resurfaced.  Busy-ness during the month of April has prevented us from getting together with my sister and her family for gift exchanges, so we were still able to use the soon-to-be gift excuse to hold him off.

Fast forward to today.  Prudence left at noon to attend a women's retreat with some other moms, which left me in sole charge of the kids.  Friday afternoons, The Boy and Em attend a gym and swim program at the local YMCA, so I took time off work to take them.  On the way, The Boy asked me if we could go to Walmart so he could buy the AT ST.  I reminded him that we would get together in the next couple of weeks for more gift exchanges.  He informed me that he now wanted to create an army of AT STs, and that buying one before he received one from his aunt would work out in his plan.  After making sure of this, I agreed to let him buy one.  So he counted out his $22 (made up mostly of $1 bills and quarters), put it in a zip lock bag, and tucked it away in his backpack.  After gym and swim, we visited the Walmart where he last saw one.  They were out.  Luckily, there is another Walmart within a few miles (almost becoming like Starbucks in this part of the country).  They were out as well.  I told him we would try Target and Toys R Us.  If they didn't have one, he wasn't meant to have one.  But when we arrived at Target, they had 2.  He took one to the cashier and gave her 2 fists of money - bills in one hand, metal in the other.  She didn't even count the quarters - she just took my word for it (yes, I did recount it!) and gave him his receipt.  After all the waiting and work it took to get the goods, I expected to see a "bouncy Tigger" with a big grin on his face.  But he simply took the bag and left the store.

Five minutes down the road, I heard him say something that will stay with me the rest of my life:  "I thought I'd be happier, but I just feel empty."  I asked him what he meant by that.  He said he expected the toy to bring joy, but he didn't feel any.  Even though he couldn't verbalize it, it wasn't that he didn't want the toy.  He just wasn't sure that this was the right time or way to get it.  I believe he also realized that he didn't really buy the "army of AT STs" rationalization he'd sold himself earlier. We talked about the idea that everything we do/give/receive comes as a cost.  And that we have to weight that cost.  He asked me if the choice he'd made to buy the toy was a good one.  I told him only he could make that decision.  But I asked him to think about it overnight before opening the box - just in case he wanted to return it.  He asked me how much Lego Star Wars II cost.  When I told him he went silent for a few minutes.  Trust me, this is rare for him.  He just stared at the box.  After a while he asked if it would be okay to wait to build the AT ST until after we saw his aunt.  "Not a problem, buddy."  Then he wished he had a good hiding place for the toy.  I told him I'd take care of it.  After all this, he seemed to be at peace with the decision.  Only once later in the night did he come to me with a request to open the box (while it was still out on the counter), but he stopped himself in mid-sentence.  He realized he was being tempted to go back on his agreement, and overcame it.

Sometimes the best lessons are learned when you're not in school.  My dad would be so proud.

Back to Reality

When our plane touched down at 5:30am on Friday and it taxied to our gate, I knew what our stewardess was going to say...and I dreaded it. It's the same phrase you hear at the end of every flight: "We know you have a choice in airlines, and we thank you for choosing United". But this one would be special. Not only would it signal the end to our trip to Paradise, but it would also be punctuated with a word I'm sure not to hear any time soon on the mainland: Mahalo, the Hawaiian word for "thank you". It's the one native word I had managed to work into my vocabulary, and this was the last opportunity to hear it and use it. In a matter of moments, I would be back in Chicago listening to everyone talk like a member of the Superfans ("tanks!", "what haive you", "over by der", etc.). Not something I was ready to go back to. But it happened. She said "Mahalo" and I returned the phrase as I left. We walked the gangway and were back to light jackets and jeans, fast-paced walking, and surely cab drivers. The dream was over and it was back to reality.

Here are a few notes from the trip:

• Our flight there was great. We were worried about how we would entertain the kids for 9 hours in a confined space, but thanks to in-flight movies ("Happy Feet" and "Night at the Museum"), my brother-in-law's portable DVD player (with spare battery), and the fascination with airplane bathrooms, we made it without a hitch. I listened to an hour of my audiobook, "1776", watched the above movies (plus "Casino Royale"), and took a short nap. We were there before we knew it.
• We stayed at the Sheraton Waikiki on Oahu. I woke up at 3:30am the first night there and couldn't go back to sleep. So I went for a drive up to Diamondhead and watched the sunrise. Pretty cool. And I made it back to join the family for a tremendous "everything" omelette (including spam and shrimp) at the Seaside Cafe!
• The kids, Prudence, and her sister swam with dolphins at the Sea Life Park. I'm just glad The Boy didn't stick his finger in the blow hole.
• We played on an incredible white sandy beach in Lanikai with some great snorkeling and a view of 2 small islands off shore. Very picturesque.
• We endured a long drive and day at the Polynesian Cultural Center. Don't get me wrong - there were some cool things to see and learn there, but at 5-6 hours with kids was too long. And I'm not sure how many times rednecks from Illinois can watch natives stomp, clap, and hula. To top it off, my brother in law had a bout of "Hawaiian revenge" from some Chinese food he ate at lunch.
• We couldn't visit Hawaii without a trip to the USS Arizona memorial. What a moving experience. We also toured the USS Bowfin and USS Missouri.
• Our family visited 3 beaches on the North Shore. Lots of surfing. None by me. I'd end up eating a rock like Greg Brady. But we did climb around some cool tide pools with water so clear it was like looking thru glass.
• On Monday we left for Maui. We spent the entire afternoon in Lahaina. They had a local craft show that took a lot of our souvenir money. Prudence ended up with a jewelry box made of koa wood, inlayed with shell in the color and shape of turtles. We also bought Christmas ornaments made of koa and shells for the kids. I bought a surfer-type necklace that features blue coral. Panda also chose a necklace. Em wanted dolphin earrings. And The Boy picked a men's jewelry box for his shark tooth necklace. I also bought my Hawaiian shirt there, as well as an orange & blue Maui cap. I paid $10 for the cap, then wandered down 2 stores and found it for $7. Later in the week I found the same hat in a K-Mart for $5. So I bought another one.
• Tuesday found us whale watching. On the way to the whale tour, Prudence spotted a momma and calf just north of Lahaina, so we pulled over to watch them swim and play. As they moved down the coast, we followed them. After a quick bite at Peggy Sue's (thanks for the tip, Aynde! The kids especially liked the juke box that played real 45s!), we set out on our tour and met up with another mom/calf pair. These 2 were flanked by a primary and secondary male escorts, so we got to see and hear a lot of whale pick up lines. Nothing seemed to work for the poor guys, but it kept the trip at a G or PG rating.
• Tuesday night was our luau at the Old Lahaina Luau. Great setting and show. Good food - if you like Hawaiian food.
• Wednesday we woke up at 3am to make the trek to the top of Haleakala to see the sunrise from above the clouds. it's a 2+ hour and -50 degree trip from our condo. When we arrived it was 36 degrees. The Boy did nothing but complain until the sun came up. But it was a breathtaking site. The trip back down the mountain was just as impressive. So many incredible views.
• Our last beach run was to Kapalua. The cove we swam in had righteous waves. The surfers could ride them easily to shore. The kids enjoyed body surfing and jumping into the waves, but they knocked Prudence on her butt. To top it off, we had another whale show. This time a calf breeched (jumped out of the water) at least 4-5 times. Incredible!
• Thursday we began the journey back at 7:30am (actually Prudence and I were up at 5:30am). We flew to Oahu to catch our flight home, but had a 5 hour layover there. So we rented a couple of cars and drove the 10 minutes back to the Pearl Harbor sites where the kids could expend some energy before the long flight home. With the time change, we arrived in Chicago at 5:30am. But we still had a long drive back to the Bloomington area. After picking up Lance (freshly groomed!), we arrived back at our house at 11:30am. The end to a LONG day.

Much sleep ensued on Friday and Saturday. And after avoiding a cold before and during the trip, I finally came down with a bit of a head cold on Sunday. Lance really brought us back to reality this morning. Beginning at 2:30am, he woke us up every hour or so with a bad case of diarrhea. Unfortunately we all had to leave the house this morning, so he left us a lovely mess to clean up when we came home. Yup, the vacation is truly over.

Pictures will be coming soon. You thought I wrote a lot. I need to weed thru almost 6GB of data to pull out the keepers from all the thumb shots. Plus I need to get my taxes done. The reality just keeps coming...

Finally...the end to a Forgettable Season and Other Stuff

Chester Frazier, Rich McBride, Warren Carter, Shaun Pruitt, and Brian Randle. Anyone other than those living in a 75 mile radius of Champaign-Urbana know who these 5 are?

Didn't think so.

But these were the players leading the Fighting Illini to one of the most forgettable seasons in recent memory. No pro talents. No incredible athletes or phenoms. No great stories (such as walk-on to team captain, star graduating in 3 years but staying for championship run, etc.). Just a group of B-grade talent that journeyed themselves to the middle of the Big Ten standings (which outside of Ohio State and Wisconsin, was mediocre at best). Many said that 2 wins in the Big Ten tournament would guarantee them a spot in the Big Dance. They did just that, then fell incredibly flat against Wisconsin. The experts classified them as a bubble team that got lucky theirs didn't burst. This angered some in Illini nation. "We play in the Big Ten! We played the #1 and #2 teams in the nation pretty tight! We beat Indiana twice! Blah, blah, blah..." I've never heard such "homer" talk from this group. Didn't they see them play this year? Sure, they could play tenacious D (speaking of which, did anyone see this movie?), but holding opponents to 40% shooting only works when you shoot much better than they do. They had no ball handling skills and gave up possessions like a politician handing out handshakes. Their decision-making on the court was brutal (I remember during the first meeting with Indiana Bruce Weber yelling at Chester not to foul as Chester body-checked one of the Indiana guards into the scorer's bench.) And I haven't even touched on free throw shooting, but no one works on their free throws anymore. No, this team was NIT worthy at best. But someone fell in love with their RPI rating and the idea that a Illinois-Southern Illinois (Weber's old school coached by one of his former assistants) could be a great story if it happened. It got many worked up into a lather - especially when they had a 13 point lead with 8 minutes left against #5 seed Virginia Tech. Even I couldn't believe it. Had they been saving themselves for this moment? But then as I watched them score only 5 points in the last fifth of the game and turn the ball over 10 times, I remembered why I guarded my heart with this group. Final score: Virginia Tech 54, Illinois 52. Was I pissed? You bet! Did it last long. Nope.

Unfortunately, Illini fans have nothing to look forward to. No talent sitting on the bench and no blue chippers coming our way (but I DO have a new reason to hate Indiana: Kelvin Sampson and his theft of Eric Gordon). Bruce Webber is a great coach. He knows his X's and O's. But he's not shown himself to be a great recruiter. No matter how well he can manage the court, he'll still be taking his Marcus Arnolds up against the Greg Odens of the world.

And it started out to be such a great decade...

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Thanks to all the folks who have still been checking in over the last month. You guys are great! I've been trying to stay current with your when I can, but this blogging thing is tough for me. First of all, I am a painfully slow writer. Oh, I have ideas running thru my head all the time, but corralling them into a coherent thought takes me hours. Would you believe that I've been sitting here typing this for 2+ hours? 2 hours for this dribble? Makes you wonder why I even began this endeavor. Have you ever wondered why I don't comment very often? You wouldn't believe how clever I think I need to be in the 2-3 sentences I'd like to leave on your sites - especially when you folks write such great stuff! I wish I were as fluent here as most of you are. You write like you speak and converse. That doesn't come easy for me. Like a lot of things in my life, I need to work extra hard to not sound like the idiot I am.

Secondly, because it takes me so long for an entry, I need to write when everyone is either out of the house or in bed. This is still a problem. When I was at the "top" of my blogging game, I was writing after work or after supper - during prime family times. It became a source of contention between me and my family. So I scaled back to blogging late at night. That worked for a while. Then the sleep issues came and I had to step out. I thought the CPAP machine had corrected this (I am sleeping better), but I didn't realize how dependent my nights had become on caffeine. Over the last 2-3 months, I've tried to limit caffeine intake to 2 cans of pop in the morning. The rest of the day I drink either Diet Rite Pure Zero or water. What this means is that come about 10pm or so, I'm ready for bed, in a good kind of tired way. But that means my blog output (writing, reading, and commenting) is for squat. I try to get thru what I can before I go to work, but that isn't always much.

Lastly (you know, it had to be in threes - it's the perfect writing number), I've been in a writing funk for about a month. Ideas come to me, but if I don't deal with them when they show up on my brain's front door, they lose meaning. And I can't write without a passion for something. And instead of the passion being like a wildfire I need to put out, it's been more like a matchstick that I can't hold on to very long. The only reason I can write this now is because I really feel it now. If I waited until morning, it'd probably be gone and there I'd be: another day without an entry. In the last month, I've let the following opportunities go by:

• The passing of one of our tenants. Melvin died February 6th in his sleep at the age of 91. The night before he'd played cards with some friends and won every hand. Then he kissed his wife of 60+ years good night and said "I'll see you in the morning".
• The passing of Anna Nicole Smith during the same week. The contrast between her life and that of Melvin's could take weeks to chronicle.
• Two snow days from work. The pile I created with the snow blower melted just last weekend.
• Driving 30 miles to sled down a hill that would barely read on a protractor.
• Numerous lunches with the guys. In one, I had Pik driving around a building to 3 different entrances to pick up Rudiger, who was at a completely different place. The sad thing is that Rudiger told me where he was numerous times on the phone, and I just didn't get it. I'm no longer in charge of picking people up.
• A special surprise I'm saving until the end of this post.
• The special surprise turned me into a germaphobe for the past 4 weeks - to the point I wore a mask and rubber gloves to visit my dad and self-medicated myself with echinacea and amoxicillin from Mexico.
• The Boy's birthday dinner at BWW.
• Heroes!

I don't know where all this is going, except to let you know that I'm still here and I'm still reading. I'm not hanging it up or anything. I'll probably show up here and there when I can. Just like the Great Pumpkin traveling from blog patch to blog patch, I'll be looking for those entries that are the most sincere :)

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On February 13th, central Illinois was hit with one of the biggest snow storms we've seen in years. 12-14" landed in my neighborhood. We sat in the house all day and watched it pile up in the driveway. And we smiled and smiled. Why? Because earlier that morning we received news that on March 20th we would be on a plane to Hawaii!!!

My inlaws celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary last year and wanted to do something special with the entire family. They put away some money from a couple of real estate sales so that they could take everyone on a special vacation to make some memories. Various destinations were tossed around until they decided on Hawaii. The initial plan was to go sometime in the November/December timeframe, but a deal came up on Expedia that they just couldn't pass up. So here we are, mere days away from Paradise! We'll be back on the mainland (just had to use that term) March 31st. Look for a Flickr album shortly thereafter.

I'd love to take each and every one of you with, but I'm only allowed one carry on and one personal item. If you can blow air up my nose for 6-7 hours a night, read the novel "1776" (unabridged) or sing/play the Beatles or Steely Dan in my headphones, you're welcome to come. But be prepared to be flung over my shoulders or stuffed in an overhead compartment.

Have a great weekend all! Go Heels! Sorry, Sue, but I just can't bring myself to root for Bill Self :)

Weekend Roundup

Not much time to blog what's really on my mind tonight (and I'm alternating between writing and watching Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid on the Sleuth network - yes, Librarian, I missed recording Heroes again this week), so I thought I'd share a little update on the weekend's festivities:

• My birthday was great. After getting up to feed Lance, let him out to do his business and quickly post some pictures, I went back to bed. Friday was my day off (I work 9 x80 with every other Friday off). The family allowed me to sleep until 9:15am (a rarity around here). It worked to both our advantages as they wanted to finish wrapping my gifts and decorating cards. When Prudence woke me, I was in the middle of deep REM sleep. Didn't really know where I was. After a few minutes I recovered enough cognitive ability to drag myself out of bed and make it to the dining room table. Remember this nugget when you see my picture below. Prudence baked my favorite cake - a sour cream coffee cake. That was breakfast for us all. After a round of blowing out trick candles - The Boy and Em couldn't wait to see me blow them out - they gave me my gifts: Band on the Run by Paul McCartney & Wings from Em; A DVD recap of the 2006 World Series from The Boy; Don't Shoot Me I'm Only the Piano Player by Elton John from Panda; and Captain Fantastic & The Brown Dirt Cowboy by Elton John from Prudence. What a haul! Do I have the coolest family or what? After the kids did some school and went to gym & swim, we made the trek to Champaign for Zorbas! The weather was bitterly cold, but the gyros were hot and garlicky! We can't quite get the kids to try them. They eat a Chicago style all-beef hot dog on a pita, so we're working them up to gyros. The Boy even said he wanted Zorba's for his birthday, so we may be back in a month. Excellent.
• Saturday started out as a lazy day. Prudence and I alternated being up with the kids and dog and then back to bed. We didn't really get going until lunch. Then Prudence and Panda went shopping for ski/snow pants for Panda's first ski trip to Wisconsin next weekend. It'll be her first trip any significant distance from us without family. Naturally she's excited and we're a little nervous. But she'll be with a trusted group of people and 3 of her best friends. She'll be fine, but her mom will probably be a bundle of nerves. Anyway, with them shopping and a Saturday afternoon Denise the Menace marathon on Boomerang, I was set to do some blog customization. This place hasn't really felt like home since the move. Kinda like not having pictures on the walls. First, I was missing the Spaces banner DrCara worked up for me (Cara, we miss you!), so I needed to get that posted. Then there was the issue of fonts, colors and layout. Spent the better part of 2 hours making CSS/HTML changes to the template I'd chosen. Can you believe they didn't have styles for bulleted lists? I had to add the disc and circle statements all over the place. I'm still not completely happy with it, but I'd probably have to come up with my own template in order to be totally satisfied. That's too much work for now, so what you see here will probably still be here a year from now.
• Sunday brought church, adult bible fellowship, some maintenance work at the duplex, and of course the Super Bowl! Our church had planned to show the game on 2 screens using projectors from different parts of the building. Then we read about the church in Indianapolis that was banned from having a Super Bowl party. While we didn't really agree with the application of the ruling, we didn't want to be in violation of the copyright law. So Friday our minister rented a 50" TV and we changed the layout of our fellowship hall. It turned out pretty well, and 50-75 people had a great time watching the game. Lots of good food, fun, and fellowship. About 90% of the attendees were Bear fans, so a number of folks went home full but disappointed. Because I don't have a true allegiance to any NFL team, I was just looking for a good game. Won't say it was the best game played, but there were plenty of exciting moments in the first half, and my buddy Bill finally got a professional championship from one of his teams (sorry, Bill, but I probably won't be rooting for the Northsiders anytime soon).

That's it in a nutshell. Hopefully I'll be back later this week what I really should have blogged about. But I'll have slept since then, so don't bank on it. Until then, stay warm!

Could Really Use One of These Today...

The temp is -6. Thankfully there's not much wind, so the wind chill is only -9. But the dog demands his walk - even if it's only around the block. Hope I'm not a Chris-sicle by the time I get back. Just who IS the master around here anyway?

More life imitating TV, I guess...

I Didn't See My Shadow...

...but judging by the frost on my nose, I'm guessing we still have a lot of winter left around here.

Yep, it's my Birthday.  43 years ago my mom gave birth to a 19" long, 10lb 9oz cinder block.  Not much has changed - just a bigger brick.  Unfortunately, the hair is almost the same.

To celebrate, I've uploaded some pictures to Flickr of me from my dad's house.  You'll see a lot of bad red hair on a big head.  Play close attention to the shirts.  Wide collars, psuedo-turtlenecks, and ring zippers.   Most (if not all) were either hand-me-downs or homemade.  Feel free to comment.  No shot is too low.  It was the 70s, remember?

After The Boy and Em's gym & swim session at the YMCA, we'll make a trip to Zorba's in Champaign - home of the best gyro on the planet!  I can't wait!

And be sure to stop by and give some love to my sister in the Ground Hog Order: Weimiegirl!  She's promised to show off some technocolor clothes that would make Joseph jealous!

Have a great weekend, all!

For The Record...

"Go on and write me up for 125 Post my face Wanted dead or alive Take my license and all that jive I can't drive 55!" Sammy Hagar from 'I Can't Drive 55'

Yeah, I saw your head bobbin', mouthin' the words with an angry Red Rocker look on your face, maybe even pumpin' your hand in the air at the make believe judge. Don't deny it. It's one of those tunes that just gets into your head and won't let go. Sammy at his best!

You've probably guessed it, but I can't drive 55. It was more like 70. Or so the local police tell me...

I was running late Monday morning, thinking about the various things I needed to get done that day, kinda in my own world. The road from my house into work starts off with a 5 mile stretch of country road - your standard Illinois rock-chip and oil variety. The rest is about 11-12 miles of nicely paved road. There are very few dips, twists, turns and trees as well. It's pretty straight and flat - another central Illinois fixture. So it's extremely easy to get ramped up for the ride into work - especially if you have a lead foot like mine. It also means there are not many places a police car can hide. Quite a combination. Almost makes you feel untouchable. Almost.

About 1 minute into my drive (which means about 1 mile from my house - how stupid am I?) I notice a pickup that I normally encounter headed the other way flashing his lights. This should have tipped me off right away that a smokey lay in wait up ahead. But I was so deep into my own head that it took a moment to "get" his signal. By then it was too late. The cop was sitting in the only green spot along the road. And he had me dead to rights. His lights went on and I pulled over. He asked if I knew how fast I was going. I knew I was going 70 (I glanced at speedometer right when I saw him - but until then, I had no idea), but felt I should give him a range - just in case his gun was running slow. So I told him 65-70. "Yeah, you were doing 70", he said. So if I don't learn anything else from this experience, I know that my speedometer is accurate. I was as polite as I could be, and he was friendly and nice in return. If it wasn't that I was $75 lighter, I'd say it was a pleasant transaction. For some strange reason, that wasn't enough. I had to share the story with the boys at work. During the rest of the day Rudiger, Ed and Pik made sure the wound wouldn't heal. Can't say I blame them. I'd have done the same.

After 7 tickets in 27 years, I think I've finally learned my lesson. But just in case, check back in 6 months and see what my top speed for the day was...

I Can't Drive 55 - Sammy Hagar

I think my favorite thing about this video is the dialog between Sammy and Claudio.

Sammy: "Ooowww! This thing is running great! Its running great. Runnin' smooth into the the curves! What did you do, Claudio?" Claudio (in his best Italian Kermit the Frog voice): " I just adjusted the cassidy cavern and the tire pressure."

No idea if he actually said "cassidy cavern", but it works for me.

Now to end this on a musical note (sorry, the bad pun came out before I could stop it). Which do you prefer?

• Sammy Hagar as a solo act
• Sammy with Van Halen
• Diamond Dave with Van Halen
• None of the above

I Though It Was Conditioner!

Everyone showers in the shower in the master bathroom.  Prudence, Panda, and me in the mornings.  The Boy and Em of an evening.  It cuts down on the number of baths we need to keep clean...and I'm too cheap to have a plumber come take a look at what makes the main bath shower leak to the basement when we use it.  I'll eventually need to take care of #2, but until then, we shower in our shower.

Other than bar soap, we keep all bath products the ledge above the glass door to the shower.  That is, until The Boy and Em were able to take showers by themselves (one of those magical milestones that parents long to see reached - much like walking, potty training, reading, etc.).  Now we keep smaller bottles of shampoo and conditioner on the "seat" built into the shower just for them.  When they were smaller (just a few months ago), the bottles would run out and they would come out of the shower - soppin' wet to the bone - into the hallway and yell "I'm out of shampoo!!!".  We would come running, yelling at them to either call from the shower or dry off and then call for us, refill their containers from the containers on the ledge, and finish their shower.  But they observed what we did and began plotting ways to help themselves.  Mind you, they would need to stand on the built in seat and lean across the shower, lean on the glass door while they reached to the ledge above - while wet.  All very safe ***insert eyeroll here***.  So for the past few months, they've (scratch that - he's) been refilling the containers when they've run out.  At least that's my interpretation, since I haven't been called to refill a container for a while.  Until last Thursday, my/our ignorance has been bliss.

Even though the torch of bathing has been passed, hair styling is still left up to me.  Yes, the man with no hairdo (should that be a hairdon't) does the hair of the little ones.  Don't worry, it's primarily a part and either combed back (The Boy) or brushed straight (Em).  When they're old enough to do their own, I'll step out and let them work on a something that helps define themselves, other than mohawks, blue/orange hair, etc!  But I digress...

So last Thursday, Em comes out of the shower and I start brushing her hair.  Its a gnarly mess!  I ask her if she used conditioner.  She tells me that The Boy told her they were out and that he found something else that would work.  I asked her to show me and she said it was the pink vitamin E stuff.  Huh?  Never seen that in our shower before, so we went back in.  There, sitting on the seat was Prudence and Panda's Skintastic Shaving Cream!  Prudence ushers her back into the shower with explicit instructions about what NOT to use on her hair.  After setting her straight and refilling their bottle with more conditioner from the cabinet, Prudence comes back to me and says, "I'm sooooo glad we don't use Nair!"

Six Weird Things

Yeah, I know this is an old meme (and I've already things documented a number of weird rules here), but I told the some people I would do it, and I try to be a man of my word.  Plus it saves you from hearing about a boring weekend - cleaning out my computer workshop (7 computer carcasses, 3 14" monitors, and 3 printers went to an electronic recycling center), 3 sick family members (Em - for almost a week - Panda and Prudence since Saturday), a busy day at church (running the computer for worship and leading my adult bible fellowship class), and 2 great football games (don't know who to root for now - I just want a good game!).  Well, I guess it didn't save you from it after all.  Some man of his word, huh?  Let's just forget that happenend move on to the meme:

1. When I get napkins from a dispenser for myself, I always get 3.  One at a time.  And I count them in my head. "One, two, three".
    
2. Complete silence scares me.  I can't sit in a room or ride in a car without turning on a radio or TV.  Maybe I'm scared to be alone with my own thoughts...
    
3. I struggle to download only a song or 2 from an album.  I always feel as tho I'll be missing something.  Sure, there's always at least one cut that absolutely sucks (except for Sgt Peppers, Abbey Road, and Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs), but if I don't have the whole album, I don't have the whole album!
    
4. I watch "League of Their Own" every time it's on.  I own copies on VHS and DVD and can watch it any time I want.  But if I see that its on at 11pm before I shut off the TV before I go to bed, I tell myself "I'll just watch until the 'no crying in baseball' part."  Next thing I know, Madonna's singing "This used to be my playground"...
    
5. I love to eat salt and butter on Zesty Saltine crackers.  To save time (because the way I eat, I don't have much of it) and dirtying a knife, I dip the cracker in "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter", then spread the butter over the cracker with my tongue.  Then I salt the cracker with a salt shaker.  Did I mention these were SALTine crackers?  I like salt.
    
6. I can't stand to pay for stuff I can usually get free or relatively cheap.  Like bottled water, for instance.  Pop, coffee, and other drinks take work to make.  Water is already here, and water fountains abound!  I'm probably just bitter that I didn't think of it first.  Tacos also come to mind.  It takes about $.25 worth of materials for a taco, and you get charged almost a $1 for one.  This one probably boils down to the fact that it takes 5+ tacos to fill me up, which adds up to too many pesos for that meal!  I feel like I'm getting swindled or something...

There you have it.  More than you probably wanted to know.  Just tell me when you want me to stop.

Musical Confessions

Today is my 1st blogiversary.  I actually owned a blog before January 18th, 2006, but did nothing with it until that date.  I spent months reading other blogs while trying to figure out what I wanted it to be.  I'm not sure it ever became what was stated here,  but I never expected to be where I am now - with a whole host of people I've never met that I consider great friends.  And for that I'm most thankful!  So I dedicate today's blog to you - my blog buddies - who made this last year sooooo much fun!

Continuing in the spirit of self-deprecating humor from my picture post ("If you can't laugh at yourself, you can't laugh at anyone else"), I'm gonna come clean on a number of items that I consider embarrassing concerning my musical tastes.  If you look at my Zen, you'll see about 12GB of solid music that appeals to most people my age.  I've got your standards (Beatles, Dylan, Springsteen, U2, Police, Motown and Top 40 hits from the 1960-1990) as well as some not-so-standards, but great none the less (The La's, Aztec Camera, Let's Active, Color Me Gone, The Specials).  But if you look hard, you'll find some "huh?", "you gotta be kidding me!" or "you pansy!" stuff.  Other things haven't made it to my Zen - either because they're locked into vinyl or too stupid for me to buy.  Without further ado, step into your priest's confessional (if you're Catholic) or try to talk me off the ledge, and let's get into the list:

• I love Hollywood showtunes and musicals!  The soundtrack to "The Music Man" may be in my top 5 favorite albums of all time.  As a kid, I used to line up chairs in our dining room like a train, play the opening song ("The Traveling Salesman") and try to sing all the parts.  I always wanted to be one of the Buffalo Bills ("Lida Rose, I'm home again Rose without a sweetheart to my name...").  Then there's "Oklahoma!"  Gordon McRae voice while singing "Oh What a Beautiful Mornin'" and "People Will Say We're In Love" is something I still try to emulate today...without much success.
• I can often be heard singing along to the following songs:
  • "My Eyes Adore You" by Frankie Valli
  • "Bad Blood" & "Laughter in the Rain" by Neil Sedaka
  • "Afternoon Delight" by The Starland Vocal Band
  • "Copacabana" by Barry Manilow (but don't call me a Fanilow!)
  • "Muskrat Love" & "Love Will Keep Us Together" by The Captain and Tennille
  • "Natural Woman" by Aretha Franklin (or Carole King)
• My favorite artist to sing along to is James Taylor.  My voice range matches his better than anyone else.  Now if I just SOUNDED like him.
• In addition, I love to sing in falsetto.  The Bee Gees are best for that.
• In grade school, shortly after I received my first tape recorder, I started making my own drumming tracks.  I would bring my record player into the kitchen, grab 2 tall drink stirring sticks that looked like drum sticks, grab a container of tubbed margarine, cue the music, and begin my jam sessions.  Unfortunately it was to songs like "The Night Chicago Died".  If you've ever seen the Gilligan's Island episode where the Mosquitoes come to the island, I resembled and sounded like Gilligan as the drummer.
• Speaking of "The Night Chicago Died", I think I owned 4 copies of that song - courtesy of K-Tel.
• Just a couple of weeks ago I downloaded Bread's "Anthology".  I'm currently listening to it a lot.  "Diary" may be one of the saddest love songs I've ever heard.
• I hate it when people get the lyrics wrong, but I've been wrong many times.  Here are a few:
  • Its "Love Train" (Spinners), not "Love Tree"
  • Its "Sweet Hitchhiker" (CCR), not "Swing into Hyper"
  • Its "Big Ol Jet Airliner" (Steve Miller Band), not "Big Ol Jet with the Light Off"
  • and its "Love is like Oxygen" (Sweet), not "Love is like Boxed chicken" (although I could make an case for that)
• For about a 1 year in college, I was into reggae big time.  I spent a majority of my free time at Record Swap, a local used record store, talking to guys like Ronnie Reggae (scrawny white guy who looked like Dick Cavet) and Rasta James (who looked just like his name - always on roller skates with a boombox on his shoulder) and searching the bins for Peter Tosh, Gregory Issacs, Steel Pulse, and of course Bob Marley.  I used terms like "I & I", "eyre'", "jah", and "spliff" like I grew up with them.  And I referred to the Rastafarians as "my people".  If I could, I would have looked like this:
   
• I'm currently searching for a good Partridge Family compilation, as well as one for the Jackson 5 and Neil Diamond.
• I enjoy listening to disco music.  The "Saturday Night Fever" soundtrack rules!
• "I'm Not in Love" by 10cc scares me to death.  "Be quiet, big boys don't cry" still haunts me today.
• Along with 45s of "Bohemian Rhapsody" and "Island Girl", I had copies of "The Streak", "Paper Roses", and "You Light Up My Life".
• I owned a copy of Peaches & Herb's hit album "2 Hot!".

While not embarrassing, I need to get a few other things off my chest while still on the ledge:

• I hate Bob Seger!  Ever since he and Tom Cruise teamed up in "Risky Business".
• Even though I claim that The Beatles are my favorite group of all time, I listen to way more Steely Dan.
• More on The Beatles front:
  • I think John Lennon is overrated as a solo artist.  From his greatest hits compilation, I can listen to maybe 5 of the tracks and enjoy them.  I blame much of this on Yoko (as do most other people on the planet).
  • "Hey Jude" is my least favorite song of theirs.  And it may be on my top 20 overrated songs.
  • I have never listened to the entire "Yellow Submarine" soundtrack.
  • I have never seen "Help!"

Whew!  I feel better already!  At least until that first comment comes in.  Or maybe no comments come in.  Gulp!  Do I hear crickets???

How's about you?  Do you have a musical confession you need to make?

The Side I Never Knew

Today would have been my mom's 84th birthday.  She was taken home to be with her Lord almost 3 years ago after a long battle with Alzheimer's.  She was a great lady - the best I ever knew.  (Sorry Prudence, but she'll always be first.  But you know that you are 1A!)  Dad has told me often since she's been gone that her time home with me was the best she ever knew.  Not because I was a special child, but because she was never able to enjoy being a mom to my 3 older siblings.

Mom married her high school sweetheart right after her graduation in 1941.  She had 3 kids before 1948, and during that time her husband had a tour of duty in Europe during WWII.  When he returned, he came back as an alcoholic.  After he'd get paid for delivering eggs, he'd be gone for days on drinking binges.  In the early 1950s, he died of a brain aneurismal.  Throughout this time, Mom had to rely on family (she had 9 brothers and sisters) and work to make ends meet.  She (and I) grew up in a small town where everyone knew your name.  The local banker took pity on her and lent her hundreds of dollars over the years - which she diligently paid back.  She worked part-time as a waitress in her sister's cafe', but she spent most of her time at working for another sister in her printing business.  I'm not sure how many years she worked there, but she became very proficient at setting and proofing type.  Reading sentences backwards with letters and characters in reverse as well blows my mind!  But she did all this at the expense of being home with her children.  Like I said, she had plenty of family in the area to help with the rearing.  Minus a couple of detours, everyone turned out alright.  But she didn't get to enjoy them.

Things changed for her in 1961 when she met my dad.  They hit it off almost immediately and were married in March of 1962.  I was born in 1964 and she was determined to make up for lost opportunities.  She never worked an outside job again.  She was home when I left for school in the morning and was there when I got home.  She helped me with my homework.  I can't count the number of class projects and crafts she helped me make. In three months of hard work and eye excercises, she "cured" me of my lazy eye.  I didn't need glasses until my freshman year of college.  Dad traveled about 2-3 nights of the week, so she and I were left to eat meals by ourselves.  She always made my favorite foods, even though she'd sometimes just have cereal or a salad.  And she aways had time for me.

So when I ran across this picture this weekend, I started thinking about the side of Mom I never knew, and how fortunate I was to be born when I was.  Thanks God.  Thanks Mom.  And Happy Birthday.