Dandelion Garden

Walking in Women's Underwear

2009-12-22T21:40:00.002-05:00

I've been sitting here for a while now listening to Christmas music and playing games on the computer. Chick is out shopping. She tried doing it with the kids but they were put on the naughty list at Target and she quickly came home. Now they are in bed dreaming of what could have been. So I have a quiet night. A silent night. All is calm. All is bright.

We still don't know what to do with Santa. We won't make up stories or lie to the kids. And we won't use Santa as a crutch to make them behave. We tell the kids their presents come from Mom and Dad. And whenever they ask about details regarding Santa we use the response, "that's how the story goes." Because, Santa really does exist. He is truly a prominent figure. And there is no denying that he is real. So is the San Diego Chicken.

However, in the last few days, Mo has asked me every few hours if she has been good. I tell her 'yes' and ask her why? She wants to make sure she is on the nice list and not the naughty list.

Melissa Etheridge is singing Happy Xmas (War is Over) right now. I think Burl Ives was before her and The Waitresses before him. I'm ready for either Anne Murray or Billy Squier next. Gotta love Christmas music.

While life is all about the holidays right now, we are only a few weeks away from meeting the next member of our family. The due date is January 26, but the Big O was a week early so anything is possible. And so I have visions of sugar-plums dancing in my head. I'll enjoy Christmas for sure, but I can't wait to meet my next best friend.

For the record, the next song was Merry Christmas Baby by B.B. King.

Friday Night With Otis

2009-10-23T20:50:00.002-04:00

There is a scarecrow in the garden. No tomatoes. No zucchini. No eggplant. No basil. Not even any pumpkins. Just a scarecrow. But there aren't any crows either so it must be doing its job well.

Computer crashes suck. I went through one about two weeks ago. I did not lose much as most everything I have is backed-up, but I am still re-setting passwords and don't have any email addresses. I guess if something is important enough, someone can send me a message.

The life of an iguana is not thrilling.

We don't have an iguana or any reptiles any more. We have four hermit crabs and a tropical fish tank. And that's all of our pets for now. I still miss my dogs but I can honestly focus more now on raising a family.

But we'll be getting a puppy soon.

Witch cookies are not necessarily made from witch parts or even by witches. And they don't taste like witches either. However, the same cannot be said for ghost cookies.

I'm not addicted to Facebook. Or, better yet, "Hello, my name is Otis and I am a Facebookaholic." I do enjoy the games and interacting with people, even on the anti-personal, computer-based level. Hey sometimes it gets tough when most of ones time is spent with a one, three and four-year-old. A little interaction with adults - even over the internet - helps a lot.

Now I'm going to pause so I can harvest pineapples on Farmville.

I'm back. I found a lost turtle on my farm. I hope someone adopts it.

The baseball season is winding up - a little too late. The football season is going okay for both my favorite real teams and fantasy teams. Halloween season is getting to be fun. Christmas season should not start until after Thanksgiving.

Hey Mr. Spaceman won't you please take me along, I won't do anything wrong.

Happy Birthday Weird Al Yankovic. Guess his age and see the answer below.

Okay, I want a turtle for my farm. I do have a bunch of peach trees. "Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches." (Yeah, that's the song playing right now for me.) "Millions of peaches, peaches for me."

Peach trees won't fit in the garden.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot - 50. Weird Al is 50.

Life is Short

2009-09-17T23:56:00.002-04:00

Stop worrying about politics. Stop worrying about socialism. Stop worrying about fascism. Stop worrying about the fall of capitalism. Stop worrying about the 4% of the population that want to live off of government checks. Stop worrying about the 4% of the population that want live off of their great-great-great-great-grandfathers wealth. Stop worrying about overpaid wide receivers. Stop worrying about overpaid CEO's. Stop worrying about underpaid teachers. Stop worrying about underpaid garbage collectors. Stop worrying. Stop worrying. Stop worrying. And live.

Live.

Live every day with happiness.

(and throw in a shot of rum for good measure.)

Otis, Otis, Otis

2009-08-29T00:12:00.003-04:00

I'm in no condition to write anything. So this is just babble. I miss my dogs. I love my kids. I don't know if I'm the boxer or the bag. But, life couldn't be better. I don't understand how Aquaman can 'breathe' under water and on land. It should be one or the other. I would like to hold my little hand, how we will run. The baseball season is shorter than the football season but no one should play hockey in June. Is the NBA still around? There are many tomatoes in the garden to be picked. The sunflowers have bloomed. Cucumbers aren't quite right. And no one likes zucchini. (That wasn't capitalized - are you paying attention?) Tomorrow I'm going to do many things. Tomorrow I'm going to grow. Tomorrow I'm going to spend the day in the garden.

Tonight, I'm going to bed.

Friday Night with Otis

2009-08-14T21:57:00.002-04:00

A few hours ago I had the option of watching golf, baseball or football. And while that decision may appear to be difficult, it was just the end of the second round of the PGA Championship, the Reds versus the Nationals and a pre-season game for the Bengals. So, none of the options were worth fighting for. Of course fighting wouldn't have mattered - we ended up watching the Wonder Pets - "Linny, Tuck and Ming Ming too!"

"This is serious!"

In the last two days I have become addicted to Mafia Wars on Facebook. It's easy to do because everyting deals with accomplishments. I don't get to accomplish many things these days. Sure, Mo can count to 30 in Spanish, Hank can name the starting lineup for the Brewers (he likes Milwaukee) and the Big O, well, likes to eat. But those feats are not really mine to claim. That's just kids growing. I'll be happy to raise enough cash to buy three tommy guns and an armored sedan so I can knock off a few people. THAT's accomplishing something!

"Save the Walrus. SAVE THE WALRUS!"

Next year I am not planting Zuchini in the garden. If you read the last post you know that we now have a vegetable garden. And that I whacked the Zuchini last weekend. Well, as expected, it is growing back even more fervently than before. And that's not really the problem. My biggest problem is that kids just don't like Zuchini. Buttered - no. Garlic salt - no. Deep fried - no. Kids don't like it. I'm tempted to introduce Zuchini Pop-Tarts, but I'm sure they won't like those either.

I have no idea why I capitalized the word 'Zuchini' in that last paragraph.

That's enough about the kids. I mean, I just had an entire paragraph in my head about how the kids don't want to go outside anymore, and not just because it's too hot, it's just that they are bored with the outside things. But that's enough! No more kid's shit! I have more in my life than just kids. I have hermit crabs and fish and a dog. And a couple of fantasy teams. And Mafia Wars...

Oh, crackers.....I need help.

('crackers' is our new word for 'damn' ever since Mo started using the 'D' word)

SHIT, it still comes back to the kids!!!!!!

"SAVE THE DADDY. THIS IS SERIOUS!"

Sunday Mow

2009-08-09T10:23:00.002-04:00

You can often tell how good it is going to be to mow the lawn by the first song that plays on your ipod. Last week it was Sound of Silence - not good. Today started with Baba O'Riley - much better.

Second song got even better - Coconuts by Widespread Panic. "You can break them open and they smell like ladies lying in the sun."

So if I mowed this morning it means we did not go to church, or in our case, Steak N' Shake. But it's okay, we went to Red Robin last night so it counts for Sunday mass.

Not much reason for not keeping up this Garden. I have, however, spent some time on Facebook. It's been pretty cool catching up with old friends. It's interesting to see what everyone is doing with their lives. If you haven't joined Facebook, I suggest you do. I need more friends!

I have spent quite a bit of time in our actual garden. Yesterday I whacked two Zucchini plants. They've been growing like crazy and we now have more squash than we know what to do with. I also put in some poles for the beans, peas and tomatoes. The peppers and eggplant are doing well and we have a watermelon about the size of a chicken egg.

So, at least that garden is growing.

Mom's Day

2009-05-10T11:36:00.002-04:00

The concept of Mother's Day is a bit different in our household. Here, the typical chores that most mother's are relieved of on this special day are done by me, the dad. I know Father's Day is right around the corner and that's why I'm creating this post. It will serve as a reminder for me. You see, Chick has been gone most of the morning, 'running errands.' To be sure there were some things she had to take care of. She had to replace a recently deceased hermit crab. And exchange tickets to today's baseball game that we cannot attend thanks to a couple of ear infections. But I couldn't help but notice that she took her new Kindle with her along with a couple of gift cards to Kohl's. Meanwhile I've done two loads of laundry, unloaded the dishwasher, changed a couple of diapers and am now preparing lunch.

Ah, yes, Mother's Day - just one more day in the life of a stay-at-home dad.

Singing in the Rain

2009-04-14T14:49:00.002-04:00

It is difficult to find inspiration in the rain. Unless you are sad, and I'm not. So the rain is a pretty good excuse for not posting anything the last few days. As for the last few months, well, I just don't know. It's not really the three kids that keep me busy. It's the two dogs, the fish tank, the tree frog, the laundry, the cleaning, the cooking, the drinking. Seriously, if all it took to be a good stay-at-home parent was sitting around playing with kids then everyone would be doing it. And they'd all be great at it. For me, I'm doing all right and so are the kids and the wife and the pets. The only thing that has suffered is this garden.

I don't usually get to watch TV during the day. But Mo and Hank are taking a nice, long, rainy-day nap. So I just gave the Big O a bottle and watched a little bit of Forrest Gump. Yeah, I've seen it a million times but it's still good. Funny and thought provoking. Supposedly the book is better but I don't mind the movie. It's usually true that books are better and rarely will an exception be found. One of my favorite books, The Hotel New Hampshire, was made into a horrible movie. It starred Rob Lowe, Jodi Foster and Beau Bridges but it was still awful. Read the book.

Of course that is also something I have not done much of - read. I started Fool by Christopher Moore a month ago and have not gotten very far. I can sneek a few pages during gymnastics or dance class but otherwise don't have much time. So apparently it has not just been my writing that has taken a backseat to life.

But that's okay. Life is still good. Great really. And now that there are dandelions growing in the front yard maybe this garden will grow a little bit too.

October

2008-10-30T21:15:00.002-04:00

My computer crashed. That's my excuse for not planting anything in the Garden for nearly two months. Sure, it just crashed a few days ago but that is irrelevant. We've ordered a new computer and it is on the way. For now I'm using my trusty Gateway desktop that I bought when we lived in Clifton. That's a couple of houses ago. The thing is still going strong as long as I don't want to download anything or visit any web sites that require graphics. And forget about live-scoring for my fantasy football teams. I'm just glad it's not baseball season. I'd be going berserk.

There will be no more apologizing in the Garden for not keeping it tended properly. That's just where life is these days. I don't really get much time to myself let alone time to get on the computer - when it works! Three kids take up some time. I'm not complaining - life is great. It's just that I'm lucky to be able to check my email in the morning between warming up a bottle and wiping maple syrup off the walls and orange juice off the dogs.

This past Saturday was very strange. The two older kids were really worn out and took a nap for more than two hours. Maybe closer to three. Meanwhile the Big O slept through most of the afternoon. At one point Chick looked at me and said, "if this is what your days are like, you don't get to complain ever again."

But enough about kids...

Let's talk about Joe the Plumber. Actually, let's not. Screw politics. How about bailouts? Nah. The Phillies won the World Series! Big deal. I'm in first place in two of my fantasy football leagues. Whoopeeeee. Okay, maybe things are a bit drab around here.

I need to get out more.

And do some planting.

But I'm not making any promises.

Wednesday Night with Otis

2008-09-10T23:15:00.002-04:00

What is the best thing about BW3's? Tall beers? Numerous TV's all showing sports? NTN Trivia? Cheap/decent food? Being able to allow kids reach 80 decibels while throwing wing sauce and ranch dressing across the room? (Editors note - tip well)

It has been a very long time since the last planting of the garden. Almost a whole summer. Baseball teams have risen and fallen. Football teams have gotten off to good and bad starts. Olympians have made it in and out of communism. A man of semi-African descent has been nominated for President and an Alaskan woman is running for Vice President. And, most importantly, a child has been born. Well actually many children have been born. I know of more than a few friends that have had children this summer. But none are more important to the Dandelion Garden than my own - The Big O.

I have officially been on my own for three days with three children and everything is okeedokee so far. So far. I have discovered, however, that my future problems won't be with the new child. It is the older two that give Damien a good name. It appears that they are very aware of when The Big-O is ready to sleep because that is exactly when they decide to play the bongos. Or the cymbals. Or just bang doll-heads on the coffee table. Or sing Ring-Around-The-Rosy and all FALL DOWN! (I tried to explain that the song was about children falling dead from the plague, but they just didn't seem to care.)

It may seem implausible but here I am once again working in the garden and the song 'Tangled Up in Blue' has hit my playlist. Really, there are over 300 songs in my playlist. But when it counts the most Bob Dylan's poetry hits my ears. "We all did feel the same we just saw it from a different point of view." Well I guess that is what sums it up for me. Most people are not very different from one another. We all really just want the same basic things in life. We just have different ways of achieving those goals. And if everyone would just help each other, just a little bit, we could all probably get there.

But that's just asking too much.

Mo, Hank and the Big O - that's where I am these days. I have already accomplished quite a few things in life. And I strive to do a lot more. But right now it is all about Mo, Hank and O. Three different kids all with the same purpose.

Happiness.

The Olympiad

2008-07-17T12:03:00.000-04:00

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Force It You Frickin' Liar

2008-07-09T22:40:00.003-04:00

This post may as well be called Friday Night with Otis. Except for the fact that I have not been drinking and it is Wednesday. And, of course, my name really is not Otis. But that brings up a popular subject between Chick and myself these days - names. We will be having our third child soon and we really don't have a name ready. Actually we have about four or five names ready but can't quite narrow things down. Obviously I prefer the name 'Otis' whether it is a girl or a boy. She disagrees. I am not sure why.

If you want to know Chick's preferences for naming our child you will have to check out her blog.

Got ya.

Okay, I lied earlier. I've had a couple of drinks. But it's still Wednesday, at least for another hour or so. And I also don't want to name my next child Otis. Maybe if we get another cat. I mean, Otis is good for a cat, but not a kid.

Apparently the newest craze is to name children after days of the week. Just ask Nicole Kidman's new daughter Sunday. I was okay with fruit - see Apple, Gwyneth Paltrow's girl. But days of the week start to get disturbing. Just ask Wednesday Addams.

That leads me to a great movie - Black Snake Moan. The movie features Christina Ricci (Wednesday Addams) and Samuel L. Jackson (Bad Mother Fucker). I honestly thought the movie was going to be much more disturbing then it turned out to be. It was actually a pretty good story. Clear your mind and watch it.

Until just a few minutes ago, I never thought about the band name Violent Femmes. And now I am afraid of all women.

You should be too.

Life is a Holiday

2008-05-05T10:03:00.002-04:00

I don't check my voicemail very often. I look at my email 20 to 30 times a day. But I don't check voicemail until there are at least three messages. I live on the concept that if the call is really important, he or she will call back. Anyway, I checked my voicemail this morning. One of the messages was from a friend informing me that Saturday was National Work Naked in Your Garden Day. (This is why I don't check my voice mail very often.) I sent him an email response this morning letting him know that I was sorry I missed his call - I was out in the garden wearing nothing but gloves, kneepads and a large brimmed hat. I hope he still has the visual.

The truth is, we don't really have a garden in our yard. We plan on having one but just have not gotten around to it. The closest thing I have to a garden is, well, this blog. So I may be a few days late, but, hold on, let me unzip my pants.......and my shirt.......now the boxers.......there. I am officially working in my garden naked. I just wish there was a more comfortable seat in this garden. This kitchen chair is cold. Very cold.

It should surprise no one that there actually is a Work in Your Garden Naked Day. There is pretty much a 'Day' or holiday for everything. Blame it on greeting card companies. Or florists. Or religion. Maybe some of the blame needs to go to people who sit around with nothing better to do but to make up holidays. (Play Ball!)

I am suddenly reminded of the trick question regarding whether or not they have a Fourth of July in Canada. Of course they do. You think Canadiens just go from the third to the fifth? It is just not their Independence Day. That is July 1. Except in Quebec where they are still seeking independence.

The next significant holiday may very well be the most important - Mother's Day. This is one you just don't want to screw up. Most men need two gifts - one for your Mom and one for your wife. They don't even have to be great gifts, but you have to have something. I was scanning the newspaper yesterday and something caught my eye in the advice columns. There was a guy who wanted to know whether or not he needed to get his wife a gift for Mother's Day. The woman is actually his second wife and although she has children from a previous marriage, they don't have any kids together. So he doesn't think he needs to get her anything. I didn't need to read the response. I know it - you're not only cheap you're a dumbass. And you'll be sleeping on the couch Sunday night.

In Search of a Soul

2008-04-17T10:48:00.003-04:00

My life is over. I have given up. I can no longer hold my head up. No, I did not witness a miracle and turn to religion. The Cubs did not win the World Series. My wife is not forcing me to go back to work. It is something much more serious than that - I am now the driver of a mini-van.

Ugh.

Don't get me wrong - it is a very nice vehicle. It has a GPS system and automatic doors and a DVD player and stow-and-go seating and everything else a family with nearly three children 'needs' in today's world. But it has no soul.

I can't believe I'm only a few years removed from driving a convertible sports car. A car that was certainly too small for a family of five but a lot more fun. Heck, we might have been able to fit three kids in the back of that thing. Who needs a five-point harness system? And for that matter a jeep should not be a bad choice for a family. The kids could spill anything possible on the floor and all you have to do is get the garden hose to wash it out. And jeep's are safe - they're built with a roll bar!

But now I have a mini-van. Ugh.

If you have never seen the movie Slapshot, stop reading this and go rent it. There is a scene where the bus driver is hitting the team bus with a sledgehammer. When they ask him what he's doing he responds, "making it look mean." That's what I need to do with the mini-van. I'll start with some flames down the sides. Yosemite Sam "Back Off" mud flaps are a good touch. I'll definitely need a Calvin peeing on something. Hydraulics may be too much and the kids could burn their legs and side pipes. Maybe I'll just add a General Lee horn. And I definitely need truck nuts.

Even if I don't get around to making the mini-van look mean, at least I can take solace in one fact. Technically, I did not buy a mini-van - Chick bought it for me.

Wait, that kinda makes it hurt more.

Ugh.

Saturday Morning Bliss

2008-04-05T10:43:00.003-04:00

If any of you that are reading this have a spouse that stays home during the week with your children, give them a break. Right now, Chick took the kids somewhere - I'm not really sure where and I don't care. I have the morning to myself. I'm listening to an XM channel that features Widespread Panic instead of the Doodlebops. I don't have to get up every three minutes to wipe a nose or change a diaper. No one is running into walls or throwing cars at the TV. For the past hour or so I've been writing about some baseball stuff and have now turned my attention to this blog.

I think I'll lock the doors.

The brilliant marketing people at Miller High Life have recently started a points program for their loyal customers. It is a lot like Camel Bucks or Marlboro points. I used to have a ton of that stuff. I wonder if my Joe Camel folding chair is still in Athens? Anyway, I am working toward an Official High Life Delivery man shirt - only 7500 points. At 10 points a beer, six beers a night it's going to take about four months for me to get there. They should really offer something for a liver transplant. But the shirt is cool.

Ralph needs a friend. At least that is what I am told on a very regular basis. And his friend will be named Buster. It was going to be Cinderella but that just doesn't fit a frog. Ralph, of course, is an anole. And he is lonely. We have looked for a friend recently and have not had much success. Three different pet stores in our area were out of tree frogs. They did have Pac-Man frogs but those things can grow to the size of a dinner plate at which point you have to feed them mice. No thank you. A simple cricket-eating tree frog to keep Ralph company will be just fine. And I have a feeling that may be what my family is looking for right now.

I think I have discovered one of the worst possible jobs - and I just might be taking advantage of it. There is a company that will come to your yard and pick up dog poop. It is called the Pet Butler. They will come out as many as three times a week to keep your yard clean. Their motto is "#1 in the #2 business!" It's not cheap - about $14 per visit. But it just might be worth it.

Of course I could be outside right now doing some scooping but then what would Chick do when the kids are napping?

Okay, maybe I'm taking this free time a bit too far. But it is nice.

Play Ball!

2008-03-30T09:16:00.003-04:00

I hope everyone is having a joyous and safe Baseballius Holiday. As many of you know this year's holiday began last Tuesday morning in Japan as the Red Sox took on the Athletics. Be sure to give thanks to Bud Selig and the marketing geniuses at MLB for starting the season in the middle of March.

One of the great things about Baseballius is that like typical religious holidays (and religion in general) the rules and guidelines can be changed to suit individual needs. This year we decided to have the baseball egg and glove hunt on Sunday morning. Chick has to work on Monday (it's not an official holiday - yet) and this gives her a chance to share in the fun. As a matter of fact she is in the family room now trying to teach Mo how to swing a bat. Honestly, I don't know how anyone is expected to hit a ball with Snow White pictured on it.

Although Baseballius continues to grow in popularity, it still plays second fiddle to the more popular Easter holiday. This year with Easter arriving before the baseball season there were a lot of good deals on candy and gifts. Opera Cremes were 75% off and they were practically giving away egg coloring kits. But there was a downside - jelly beans were sold out and the Peeps were stale. Those things just weren't made to last.

Be sure to check out the new stadium in Washington D.C. tonight as the Nationals host the braves on ESPN. Tomorrow things get started at 1:05 with the Blue Jays and Yankees and won't end until well after midnight with the Astros and Padres. Be sure to have a good supply of bratwurst, peanuts, cotton candy and root beer. (Tums may come in handy too.) And don't forget to make your Baseballius predictions - Johnny Cueto, Rookie-of-the-Year!

Merry Baseballius!!!

Thaw

2008-03-06T21:57:00.004-05:00

Just when you think the garden is ready for spring, more snow arrives bringing with it the cold and the wind. It is difficult to grow anything in the winter months. Even icicles don't live for long. But life keeps moving forward.

Cabin Fever has been rough this winter. It is especially difficult when living every day with two kids in their terrible two's. Yes, I know my kids are not that terrible, but they are still in the rotten stage - one moving out of it and one just entering it. We get out when we can but it gets tough when it takes twenty five minutes just to get into the car. And then, where do we go? Swings are frozen, the mall is boring and Starbucks is, well, really frickin' expensive. Good taste is not cheap.

I have had a reprieve the last few weekends. Chick has nearly forced me out of the house and into the arms of friends. It was much needed and appreciated. I did learn, however, that my days of 12-hour drinking binges and closing bars are way behind me. I held my own, but I am not sure how.

So now we head south, six months after the birds. (We should all learn from them.) In just a few days we will all be in the Florida sun. Swimming. Fishing. Relaxing. Living.

Life is good, and getting warmer.

Sunday Living

2008-02-10T21:05:00.000-05:00

Life does not get much better than Sunday morning. Alarm clocks are irrelevant. Schedules are pointless. It is all about waking up on a day with no agenda. Nothing to do but live.

Many people go to church on Sunday morning. We go to Steak N' Shake. The people there are just as friendly as any congregation. The sliver-dollar hash browns are divine. No one sings off-key. There is no kneeling or chanting or preaching. Only a quiet semi-comfortable booth. No one drinks any wine or eats any flesh. Just orange juice and toast with jam. I just wish our bill was tax-deductible.

A trip to the mall or a department store is nice after a good meal. No one ever really needs to buy anything, but it helps to do a little walking after a 2,000 calorie breakfast. Besides, it is always good to get a pair swim trunks in February. They're cheap.

Sunday afternoons may actually be better than their morning counterparts. Especially if golf is on. While a golf tournament may often be as exciting as a lopsided curling match, the peace and serenity of the broadcast sets up for a perfect nap. It's all about the whispering.

Everyone should have fried chicken for dinner on Sunday. It doesn't matter if you fix it yourself or get it from KFC or if you have a favorite local joint with the best goddamn chicken in the state. Fried chicken is a must for Sunday. And don't forget the biscuits and gravy and mashed potatoes. Corn works too, but it's not necessary. Don't add too much health to the meal. It's the weekend. You can eat cantaloupe for breakfast on Monday.

Depending on when the golf finished - or some crazy basketball game - 60 Minutes is a natural part of the after-dinner routine. It appears as if the staff is getting younger. But somehow Andy Rooney still has his job. Like him or hate him, he does not have a face for TV.

After the wife and kids head upstairs for bed, the best thing to do on a Sunday evening is to open a beer, put in a Cowboy Junkies album, and write about your day. At least, that's what works for me.

Striking Out

2008-01-27T21:59:00.000-05:00

One significant difference between my generation and the one before us deals with television. Our parents grew up with TV - all three channels of it. My generation has had numerous channels for most of our lives. That difference became most apparent to me after spending a week with my parents in Florida. Every night my dad sits in front of the TV with the remote and asks what we like to watch on that night. Monday - CSI? Tuesday - CSI? Wednesday - CSI? Thursday - CSI? Friday - ICS? (a change of pace.) The answer from Chick and myself is always the same - we don't watch network shows.

In September I made an effort to watch some of the new shows on the networks. I like Pushing Daisies and Dirty, Sexy, Money. Bionic Woman was not bad. And I continued to watch Grey's Anatomy and its spinoff - I can't think of the name but it's on after Pushing Daisies. But thanks to the writers strike, I haven't seen any of those shows in quite a while. And I am here to tell you, I don't care. I have over 200 channels including about 30 movie channels. I have a computer that can lead me all around the world. I have a library of books filled with stories that I could read over and over again. Yes, tv shows are easy enjoyment. But they are not important. Or necessary.

So if by some crazy chance anyone that is a television writer or even a network executive steps into the Garden, here's what I have to say - you are not significant. Stop acting as if you are.

Don't Cry

2008-01-26T22:57:00.000-05:00

I left the refrigerator open last night. Well, not really open, but ajar. I kind-of-sorta remember that it was open but I thought I had closed it. Apparently it popped back open. Or ajar. There seemed to be a pie that was stopping the door from closing completely. I have been making pies lately. Not necessarily from scratch but pies nonetheless. The pie that kept the refrigerator door ajar was a peach pie. It was delicious but not good. If it were good it would not have kept the door ajar.

I received the bad news of the refrigerator being left ajar from Chick - she was the first one downstairs this morning. (I should not have slept in.) Unfortunately I also took the bad news out on her. Yes, I shot the messenger. In my defense, I felt as if she presented me with the information as if I really screwed up. It wasn't my fault, it was the pie's. And just because I made the pie it doesn't mean that I am responsible for its actions. That's like suggesting that all the problems of the planet are the fault of God or Kronos or whatever star exploded five billion years ago.

Regardless, I did not take the incident of the refrigerator door left ajar well. This is my job. It is my responsibility to make sure that our children are healthy, our house is well maintained and our family is as happy as possible. Spoiled milk puts a damper on those things.

So, I went to the store. I got new milk, new yogurt, new butter, new ranch dressing, new tartar sauce, new orange juice, new cream cheese, and new sour cream. (Even though the old sour cream was already sour to begin with - someone is going to have to explain that to me.) I did not replace the one pound of no-longer fresh chicken but I did get a twelve pack of Miller High Life. When I got home, Chick told me that she didn't remember any beer going bad. I told her she didn't look hard enough.

Pearls Before Swine

2008-01-25T16:26:00.000-05:00

Winter Blues? Dumbass!

2008-01-07T23:03:00.000-05:00

Today was one heck of a day to finish out the first week of January. It was nearly 70 degrees in these parts and often sunny enough to squint. We actually turned off the furnace and opened the windows for a bit of fresh air. It certainly has been a nice relief that is certain to be followed by a foot of snow in the upcoming weeks.

It would not be surprising to hear many people claim that this minor surge in temperature has to do with global warming. While I have the utmost respect for science, especially when it is compared to religion, I am not completely sold on the global warming thing. My main premise is this - the Earth is estimated to be around 4.5 billion years old. As homo sapiens we have only been a part of the planet for a little more than 100,000 years. We really only have a history of our time on Earth for a few thousand years. And, most importantly, our recorded history of weather patterns only goes back a few centuries. Sure, our scientist have done a lot of very sophisticated research in recent times, but are we really smart enough to have any idea what is truly happening to this planet? Hell, we still don't know what Goofy is. A dog? A horse? What the hell is he?

In the last planting of the garden, two different current events were mentioned that I am now having a hard time figuring out. I am not sure which story is becoming more pathetic, the Roger Clemens steroid thing or whatever the hell Britney Spears is doing. Clemens pleaded his case to Mike Wallace on 60 Minutes last night and most people are still confused. Spears has Dr. Phil helping her out and she is now more confused. Maybe Mike Wallace needs to talk to Dr. Phil and the Rocket and Britney could spend some time together. It could all be filmed and presented as a reality show on Fox.

And speaking of Fox, Republican presidential candidate Duncan Hunter gave the executives there and at ABC a good tongue lashing on Monday. He was excluded from the recent debates by the two broadcasters because he was too low in the polls. In a brief speech in which he was expected to drop out of the race, he repeatedly referred to media executives as 'knuckleheads' for excluding him and other candidates in the exchange of ideas. And instead of giving up, he vowed to press on regardless of what the media thinks of him. In the little research I did regarding Duncan I don't think I could ever vote for him, but I have to applaud his effort.

And finally, it is going to be a sad day tomorrow in my home town as the Buckeyes are about to lose another championship game. It will be the third major championship loss in one year's time - two football and one basketball. I think I'm getting tired of living in a second-rate city. It's time to head south and find a place where it's 70 degrees all winter long!!!

Psaghetti

2008-01-03T23:15:00.000-05:00

I'm bored. I already have the winter blues. Yes, I know it's only the beginning of January, but the lack of sunlight is draining my being on a daily basis. Sure, I know that since the winter solstice days are now getting longer. That's why we celebrate Saturnalia, duh! But I am still feeling quite lethargic. I barely wanted to open a beer earlier this evening - that's how bad it is. But, alas, here we are, four (or five) beers later...

In the news today............Barack Obama and Mike Huckabee won their respective caucuses; Roger Clemens says he was injected with vitamins, not steroids; and a witness from the San Francisco zoo has come forward stating that she saw various people taunting a lion before the tiger attack. Yeah, you know where I'm going with this one. Politics? No. Baseball? No. A tiger coming to the defense of it's friendly neighbor? Oh yeah! Everyone that has ever seen The Hair Bear Bunch knows that tigers and lions have been scheming for years to fight their oppressors and escape the confines of the zoo. I say we round up all the 'big cats' and send them to Guantanamo Bay - without legal representation - and ban them from the Hall of Fame.

Oh yeah, one more bit of news, Britney Spears' attorneys for her child custody case, dropped her as a client. Why is that news?

By the way, for those of you that don't know, this is the Hair Bear Bunch:

The New Year

2007-12-31T23:55:00.000-05:00

I have a new phone. It takes pictures. It is an MP3 player. It plays games. It can send text messages. And, believe it or not, it can make phone calls. I have dumped my I-Pod and now listen to music on this new phone. It has a 2 gigabyte hard drive - that's much better than my Shuffle.

A few minutes ago 'Voodoo Chile' began playing on my new phone. I looked at the clock and noticed it was 11:57. Everyone should ring in the new year with Stevie Ray Vaughn.

12:00

Nothing changed.

Stevie Ray still rules.

I just noticed this picture on our SigEp blog:

Most of the people that visit the Garden know just about everyone in that photo. I don't exactly know when that photo was taken, but I do know that it was a New Year's Eve party somewhere in the late 90's. I am happy to say that I am still in contact with all of those guys - brothers - friends. But holy shit! Life sure has changed since then.

I have no New Year's Resolution. There are a million things I want to do in life that should not be trivialized by making an arbitrary 'promise'. Sure, I could lose a few pounds and I could clean up my language and I could drink less and I could plant more in this garden. But it should not take the flipping of a calendar to change one's life. However, if you flip the colander at the right time, the pasta sauce will stick to the spaghetti better.

Another Christmas

2007-12-26T00:16:00.000-05:00

It is certainly sad to see one more holiday season pass us by. While our children are having more and more fun with each Christmas, I've noticed that I get fewer gifts each year. What's up with that? Just because I have kids it doesn't mean that I don't enjoy receiving presents. Sure, I am not that interested in a doll house or a tea set or an Elmo bus or princess dress-up outfits. But it's still my holiday too. Why can't I get a 1000 piece Lego set or a new Tyco race track. Okay, so the single-serve, Keurig B40 coffee maker is one hell of a machine, it's no Backyardigans train set. My point is, adults should be allowed to have as much fun on Christmas as children do.

Now, I have to go find my pink boa and pearls. I'm late for the tea party!

12 Days of Christmas

2007-12-18T09:19:00.001-05:00

On the first day of Christmas my children gave to me...
an Elmo in the Christmas tree.

On the second day of Christmas my children gave to me...
two dirty diapers,
and an Elmo in the Christmas tree.

On the third day of Christmas my children gave to me...
three Blue's clues,
two dirty diapers,
and an Elmo in the Christmas tree.

On the fourth day of Christmas my children gave to me...
four screaming fits,
three Blue's clues,
two dirty diapers,
and an Elmo in the Christmas tree.

On the fifth day of Christmas my children gave to me...
FIVE HEADLESS DOLLS!!!
four screaming fits,
three Blue's clues,
two dirty diapers,
and an Elmo in the Christmas tree.

On the sixth day of Christmas my children gave to me...
six crayons a coloring,
FIVE HEADLESS DOLLS!!!
four screaming fits,
three Blue's clues,
two dirty diapers,
and an Elmo in the Christmas tree.

On the seventh day of Christmas my children gave to me...
seven stepped-on raisins,
six crayons a coloring,
FIVE HEADLESS DOLLS!!!
four screaming fits,
three Blue's clues,
two dirty diapers,
and an Elmo in the Christmas tree.

On the eighth day of Christmas my children gave to me...
eight smeary windows,
seven stepped-on raisins,
six crayons a coloring,
FIVE HEADLESS DOLLS!!!
four screaming fits,
three Blue's clues,
two dirty diapers,
and an Elmo in the Christmas tree.

On the ninth day of Christmas my children gave to me...
nine broken ornaments,
eight smeary windows,
seven stepped-on raisins,
six crayons a coloring,
FIVE HEADLESS DOLLS!!!
four screaming fits,
three Blue's clues,
two dirty diapers,
and an Elmo in the Christmas tree.

On the tenth day of Christmas my children gave to me...
ten torn up tissues,
nine broken ornaments,
eight smeary windows,
seven stepped-on raisins,
six crayons a coloring,
FIVE HEADLESS DOLLS!!!
four screaming fits,
three Blue's clues,
two dirty diapers,
and an Elmo in the Christmas tree.

On the eleventh day of Christmas my children gave to me...
eleven loads of laundry,
ten torn up tissues,
nine broken ornaments,
eight smeary windows,
seven stepped-on raisins,
six crayons a coloring,
FIVE HEADLESS DOLLS!!!
four screaming fits,
three Blue's clues,
two dirty diapers,
and an Elmo in the Christmas tree.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my children gave to me...
twelve peaceful minutes (da-da-daaaaaaa),
eleven loads of laundry,
ten torn up tissues,
nine broken ornaments,
eight smeary windows,
seven stepped-on raisins,
six crayons a coloring,
FIVE HEADLESS DOLLS!!!
four screaming fits,
three Blue's clues,
two dirty diapers,
and an Elmo in the Christmas tree.

Catsup

2007-11-20T00:19:00.000-05:00

Wow, I can't believe I have not made a post in nearly two months. That's a lot of diapers ago. And at least 75 episodes of Backyardigans. More than a few trips to Starbucks - Mo now asks for a coffee too. She gets ice water but sips it just the same. I've spent a lot of my 'writing time' on football in recent months. I've been putting together two articles a week. But I'm taking the week off thanks to the holiday. So screw football. My fantasy teams stink anyway. And the NFL is fixed, but that's an entirely different blog.

Thanksgiving may be one of my least-favorite holidays. I'm just not a big fan of eating. Okay, I know we need to eat but is gorging really necessary? If I'm going to eat a lot of something it's going to be something good like cheesecake or beef jerky. Not turkey and cranberry sauce. Yam's are okay but they need a ton of brown sugar, and my family isn't in to fixing noodles. (There are a few of you out there that get that joke.)

So Opie found a man's purse that had $50 in it. He waited a week for someone to claim it and when no one did, the money was his. Andy made him put $40 of it in savings and let him spend the rest. He bought a fishing rod. What do you think a kid would spend ten bucks on these days?

On a final note, as an excuse for not creating much in this Garden lately, we have been spending a lot of time at the YMCA and doing many other 'family' things. But if I have to sing 'Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes' one more time I think I'll need to shoot myself in the head, shoulder, knees and toes.

Friday Night With Otis

2007-09-21T21:48:00.000-04:00

Zip. Zero. Nothing.

You have to do something in order to write something. I have not done much lately. Well, there was the contest we had earlier today to see who could go the longest without putting a finger in their nose. I lost. Hank won. Mo was a distant second.

What is it about Forrest Gump that just makes you want to watch it every time you see it listed? He just busted the guys at the Watergate Hotel and got discharged from the army. But he kept the ping-pong paddle.

Remind me to take all Billy Joel off of my Ipod. It's not that I don't like him - hell, he's on my Ipod. But the Sex Pistols came on after "Italian Restaurant" and it just doesn't flow. Sure, I could take out "Anarchy in the UK" but "Jane Says" came after that and it worked.

In an attempt to rid our house of alcohol, Chick and I have been drinking Yukon Jack and cola. It's pretty good really. I've been going through all the boxes in the basement marked 'bar' that came from our last house. For those of you that may have been there, you may recall that we actually had two bars. So, we are still sorting through the carnage. I doubt we will ever finish the 18 bottles of schnapps. But the Yukon Jack is half-empty. Or half-full, depending on your point of view.

By the way, we really are not trying to rid our house of alcohol. We're just trying to clean up the basement.

After the Yukon Jack it's on to the 151. Ouch! It's going to be a long December and that's not just the Counting Crows song I'm hearing right now.

Is Lt. Dan an idiot an asshole or a CSI detective? And why in the hell would someone want to shoot Gerald Ford? Lincoln, okay. Kennedy, fine. Reagan, sure. But Gerry?

No wonder Betty drank.

I wonder if she liked Yukon Jack and cola?

Wide World of Sports

2007-09-12T22:47:00.000-04:00

The world of sports is way overrated. I feel like I have done nothing but write about baseball and football for the last three weeks. Actually, that's not true. I have included some golf, tennis and soccer in recent articles. Of course, golf really is not a sport. But you know that already.

The thing about writing is that you must do it every day. And on some level I do. I just wish I wrote more in this Garden. The other Blogs I deal with are fun, but none are as important to me as this one. I don't really know why, other than this is where my mind goes. And my heart. And my soul.

Still, I am only pausing from my weekly football preview to create this entry. When I am done with that I'll write a baseball article for Sunday morning and then another football piece for Sunday night. Yes, that's way too much.

The thing about sports is that it is becoming as corrupt as politics. This week the Patriots got busted for spying on their opponents. Sure, it only takes a little heat away from Senator Craig and his bathroom antics, but it is still pretty screwed up. Okay, so a professional wrestler went whacko and killed his family. And an NBA referee fixed a few games. And the new home run king may have taken steroids without knowing it. And a few french ice skating judges were on the take. Wait - ice skating is no more of a sport than golf - skip that. Fine, how about race car drivers finishing races after they have been disqualified? I'm not sure who did that, but I saw something about it on ESPN a few weeks ago. The point is, sports are corrupt as politics.

And I didn't even mention Michael Vick.

So now I will. What a horrible excuse for a human being. Don't believe that he has remorse for what he has done. He has been involved in dog fighting since he graduated from college. For him to say he merely made a mistake in judgement is an insult to our social intellegence. Of course we also thought Iraq had weapons of mass destruction. So, maybe we are to blame. We believe our sports heroes are great because they run for a bunch of yards. We think our politicians are great because they run a great campaign.

Well, that's enough for politics in the Garden.

Next week it's all about Scooby Doo.

Nothing but Friends

2007-08-16T22:32:00.000-04:00

I have absolutely not a thing to say. I'm just sitting here listening to music - the Beatles right now - with Friends on TV, muted, while checking out various web sites. The kids have been in bed for a while and Chick was right behind them. At least I have time to myself.

Whose breasts were propotionally larger by the end of the Friends series? Rachel, Monica or Chandler?

Madonna's birthday is today. She's 49. Frickin' Madonna is 49. Sure, she still looks great but she spends her days either practicing yoga or doing stomach crunches. But the next step is 50. Madonna at 50? Is 50 the new 40?

Did Phoebe's boobs get bigger? I never liked her much. Too goofy, or maybe too dumb. And there is something strange about her nose. I don't know what.

I must change my I-pod. For some reason the song "C is for Cookie" is playing right now. Or I've watched Sesame Street so much I'm dreaming this. But Cookie Monster is right, a cookie with a bite out of it does look like a C.

The summer is nearly over and I can't wait. I really don't like the heat. I prefer living in jeans and a t-shirt. Or even a long sleeve shirt and shorts. But the heat has to go. (Remind me of this statement in February.)

Ross is a dork. Sure, Joey is not smart and Chandler is a bit of a nerd, but Ross is a dork. A big dork.

Have you tried a Bacardi Mojito? They suck. It's essentially a Tom Collins with rum and crushed mint leaves. Who in the hell wants to drink something with leaves in it? It's like eating a bowl of Shredded Wheat with Creme de menthe. Just order a rum and coke and move on.

The people on Friends never seemed to drink much alcohol. Coffee, yes. Beer, not so much. Of course every time two of them got drunk together they ended up having sex. But isn't that the point?

I wonder if Chick is still up and would like a Mojito?

Know Your Town

2007-08-02T22:11:00.000-04:00

Actors and actresses that once appeared on The Andy Griffith Show include:

Buddy Ebsen (The Beverly Hillbilly's)
Barbara Eden (I Dream of Jeanie)
Allan Melvin (The Brady Bunch)
Frank Cady (Green Acres)
Denver Pyle (The Dukes of Hazzard)
Larry Hovis (Hogan's Heroes)
Alan Hale Jr. (Gilligan's Island)
Jerry Van Dyke (Coach)
James Best (The Dukes of Hazzard)
Bill Bixby (The Incredible Hulk)
Gavin MacLeod (The Love Boat)
Don Rickles (he's just funny)
Clint Howard (Ron's brother)

By the way, I only reference episodes that were filmed in black and white. If Don Knotts isn't in it, it isn't worth watching.

Friday Night With Otis

2007-07-27T22:14:00.000-04:00

I'm officially bored. I spent all day waiting for Chick to come home. The kids have been a terror lately. Hank is in a 'clingy' mode and Mo, well, Mo is two so she won't listen to me unless I'm holding a jar full of cookies. So, I thought we could all do something this evening to relieve the tension. Or at least my tension. Thanks to thunderstorms, that really didn't happen. I ran a few errands - okay, I went to the liquor store and Wendy's - while Chick played with the kids. Then we watched Handy Manny and an Elmo potty training video and everyone went to bed. Except me.

The Reds are winning 2-1 and they have the bases loaded right now so that could change. Never mind.

If you haven't read the Captain's Blog, you really should. There is a link to it in the previous Garden post. He's in Myrtle Beach on vacation with his family. Apparently there is a KISS Coffee House. That's marketing at its best. Not only can they charge way too much for a cup of coffee they can dress it up to seem really cool. I've got to try the Caramel Rockuccino.

Bronson Arroyo Rules! (Yeah, some of you know what that means.)

I'm nearly ready for football season. I've already participated in a fantasy mock-draft. Of my five baseball teams, two are doing very well, one is in the hunt and I've just about given up on the last two. That's the way it goes. I'm not sure how many football teams I'll have this season - five is a good bet. But fantasy football is a lot easier and a lot more luck. It's like golf - you can have a great weekend but if someone you're playing does better, you lose.

Did you know that Elmo was from Louisiana? At least his dad is, as he has a definite cajun accent. And who takes that many pictures of your kid on the toilet? Maybe that's my problem. I need to take the camera into the bathroom. Then I can post the photos in an entirely new blog - motinklesandpoops.blogspot.com!

Actually, my problem may be that I've seen that damn video too many times! Next time Mo asks to watch it - and she does often - I'm just turning on Star Trek.

Captain's Blog

2007-07-26T09:07:00.001-04:00

Recently I have been watching Star Trek Enterprise. It's a prequel to the entire Star Trek series as the first earth ship to explore space. It features Captain Jonathan Archer played by Scott Bakula of Quantam Leap fame. It's on every afternoon at 1:00 on HDNet. I record it and if the kids take a nap at the same time I can usually fit in the whole episode. DVR is awesoome.

I am not a Trekker. I have always enjoyed watching the various Stark Trek shows but that is where my involvement ends. I do not show up at conventions dressed as a Ferengi. I do not know how to speak Klingon. And I have not told anyone to 'live long and prosper' since I was a kid. I certainly don't have any problem with people who do those things. It's a relatively harmless hobby. It seems that the only people Trekkers ever come in contact with are other Trekkers. What could go wrong?

In the original Star Trek series the sex symbol of the show was Lt. Uhura. Her great legs were always exposed thanks to a super-mini skirt. Of course, she was often trumped by a hot green chick hooking up with Captain Kirk. The Next Generation featured Deanna Troi as the sexy star. But I always thought Beverly Crusher was better looking. She just didn't show cleavage. However, none of those women are in the same category as T-Pol played by Jolene Blalock on Enterprise. She's a puffy lipped, large breasted Vulcan that wears a skin-tight uniform. She may not be the reason I watch the show, but it sure makes it more worthwhile.

I have a friend who was known as the Captain in college. His last name is Kirk so it worked well. He actually prefers Star Wars to Stark Trek but gladly accepted the nickname. He has recently started his own blog to detail his voyage down the highway as his family takes a summer vacation. Apparently, the captain's of the various Enterprises never knew how easy they had it. You can check out the Captain's Blog here.

Live long and prosper.

Opus - May 27, 2007

2007-07-14T08:57:00.001-04:00

Parenthood

2007-07-12T15:42:00.000-04:00

Although I have seen the movie numerous times and always enjoyed it, only recently have I been truly able to appreciate the movie Parenthood. For those of you that are unfamiliar with it, the story is essentially a comedy about the raising of children. The main character, Gil, portrayed by Steve Martin, struggles to balance his career with the raising of his three kids. His wife Karen is played by Mary Steenburgen. His father, Frank, is Jason Robards. His siblings include characters portrayed by Dianne Wiest, Tom Hulce and his brother-in-law Rick Moranis.

The events that take place in the movie are all about how the different parents react to what their children do. Nothing is really extraordinary. One scene involves a birthday party when a stripper shows up instead of a cowboy. Another involves sorting through trash at a restaurant for a retainer. Still another involves a school play completely disrupted by a younger sibling. My own children are still too young for me to have gone through any of this, but in a strange way I do look forward to it.

Karen: He likes to butt things...with his head.
Nathan: How proud you must be.

A few days ago our frog died. The tree frog in the terrarium not the dwarf frog in the aquarium - I know it can be confusing. Anyway, the frog died. I'm not really sure why he died, but he's been alive for over two years. We got him just after we moved here. I know one thing for sure - he did not starve to death. The day before he died I put a few crickets in the tank and they are still there. As a matter of fact, they are thriving in the environment and chirping all day long to let us know how happy they are. They are also very good at hiding. I HAVE to get another frog, and soon.

Frank: (on parenting) It's like your aunt Edna's ass. It goes on forever and it's just as frightening.

Amongst our gazillion toys there is a number puzzle. It's not really a puzzle though. It's just a bunch of pieces cut in a strange way with numbers on them. Each number has objects associated with it. There is one kite and five snails. The strange thing is the number two. There are two suns. Not stars - definitely suns. The last time I checked we only had one sun in our solar system. I'm not really sure how many planets there are anymore, but one sun. Yet there are TWO suns in the puzzle. Now, unless my kids go to school on Tatooine, they are always going to be wrong when asked how many suns we have.

Karen: I happen to LIKE the roller coaster, okay? As far as I'm concerned, your grandmother is brilliant.
Gil: Yeah if she's so brilliant why is she sitting in our NEIGHBOR'S CAR?

Sometimes it can be difficult to gauge the development of children. Hank is completely off the bottle and just about finished with formula altogether. That's about the same pace as Mo. However, he is very close to walking which puts him months ahead of his sister. Mo can count to ten fairly easily and works through the alphabet. But only in English. We're working on Spanish and I'm going to have to learn French. We help her with all of those things, and more, but she may learn the most from TV. Blue's Clues and Sesame Street go a long way, but honestly I think she learns the most from The Price Is Right. She knows exactly how many bottles of antacid to buy to get between ten and twelve dollars. And she loves counting along with the Mountain Climber. Unfortunately, she'll never be able to count past 25.

Marilyn Buckman: Cool is adorable. Adorable! Why didn't you write us when you had a son?
Larry Buckman: I didn't know myself until a couple of months ago. You see a few years ago, I was living in Vegas with this girl. Show girl. She was in that show 'Elvis On Ice'. Anywho, we drifted apart as people do in these complicated times and then a couple of months ago, she shows up with Cool and tells me "You watch him. I shot someone. I have to leave the country."...That's a parent?

This is not the first reference to Parenthood in the Garden. I honestly had to do a keyword search to figure it out, but on January 19, 2005 I quoted the movie in a post. You should check that out as it too deals with parenting. Just in case you don't have time, here's the quote, the best of the movie:

Tod: You know, Mrs. Buckman, you need a license to buy a dog, to drive a car - hell, you even need a license to catch a fish. But they'll let any butt-reaming asshole be a father.

Where I Have Gone

2007-06-06T23:23:00.000-04:00

I have not been anywhere lately. Mentally or physically. I've just been living. I take care of my kids. I watch baseball. I drink beer. I am here.

I have spent a lot of time in a different blog of late. There is a link to it on the right, but don't hit it - you won't be able to go there. It is a blog for my fraternity brothers. It started as a way to just try and find some guys that we haven't seen or heard about in 15 years. Then things got complicated. Some guys started telling stories about some of the things that we did in college. That's when one brother, now a lawyer, emailed me suggesting more discretion. Apparently, perspective clients and employers read these blogs to determine character. So, we have tried to clean things up and have been forced to make it a private blog. Now no one will ever hear about what happens to our stoned sheep during initiation.

My knowledge of politics and world affairs is becoming greater than ever. I get all of my information from The Daily Show and The Colbert Report.

I have decided that it is easier to take care of children than dogs. That may only be a result of caring more about the kids, but still, they are easier. We have been fighting some strange virus the last few days that Mo has passed on to Hank. There's a fever and some crankiness. Give them some medicine and put them to bed. Meanwhile, clean the dogs ear infections, make sure King doesn't lick the paw that he ripped half the pad off of and stop Queenie from barking at every living creature within 25 feet of our house so she doesn't wake the kids!

I no longer miss Jack.

The Anaheim Ducks won the Stanley Cup. I hope Emilio Estevez is proud.

The other day, the kids and I went to visit Chick for lunch. We were heading up the highway and the song 'Been Caught Stealing' came over the radio. I turned it up as loud as a dad can with two kids in the backseat. Suddenly, Mo started yelling, "Dad! Dad!" So I turned down the volume.
"Yes honey, what is it?"
"Dogs."
"Yes, those are dogs. They are a part of the song."
So, Mo likes the Chicago Cubs and Jane's Addiction.

And I like her more every day.

Don't Pay Me

2007-05-04T10:23:00.000-04:00

Recently, Salary.com released research that the average stay-at-home mom would earn $138,095 per year based on the work that she does. That work includes housekeeper, day care center teacher, cook, computer operator, janitor, facilities manager, van driver, CEO, and psychologist. The findings state that the average mom puts in 92 hours per week completing those jobs.

What a bunch of crap.

I have only been doing this for nearly two years but there is no way I spend 92 hours a week as a stay-at-home dad. Fifty - maybe. Sixty - doubtful. Why? Because my wife does not work 90 hours each week. When she comes home in the evening my "stay-at-home" status is over. At that point, I am just a dad and a husband. Sure, I may continue to fix dinner and clean the kitchen and feed the kids and help with giving baths. But I am no longer doing it alone. As a matter of fact, most evenings it is Chick that does most of the parenting. Not just because I need a break - and I know there are plenty of stay-at-home parents out there who can't wait to hand-off the kids - but because it gives her a chance to spend some time with the kids.

I understand that for many years in our society the role of the stay-at-home mother has been greatly over-looked. Making people aware of the challenges of the stay-at-home mother was an important factor in helping to establish equality between men and women. It was not that long ago when child rearing was completely up to the mother. Many of our father's and grandfather's rarely, if ever, changed a diaper. But those days are behind us. Today, for the most part, the working parents are very involved with the lives of the children. It would be difficult to find a modern-day dad that does not change diapers or give baths or wake up for middle of the night bottles. How much should they be paid?

Recently, Similac has announced that they are having a contest in which they will be giving away $135K to the mom that sends in the best photo of her favorite 'mom-job'. I don't think I will be sending in an entry as I am not eligible. Ironically, Similac should be marketed towards someone like me as the only thing a dad can't do that a mom can is breastfeed. But for $135,000, we just might figure out a way to do that too!

I Miss Harry

2007-04-25T21:24:00.000-04:00

As a stay-at-home parent, I have to admit we watch way too much television. Hank shouldn't be watching any, yet I am sure he can identify Elmo in a lineup. Of course that is primarily because his sister yells "DAD! MELMO!" when Elmo's World begins on Sesame Street. She also yells "WOCKET" when Little Ensteins start and "BABLO" when the Backyardigans begin. She likes Mickey's Clubhouse but doesn't yell his name. She does, however, "quack" when Donald appears. At least I think it is a "quack" - it's hard to tell what either of them are saying.

I do try to curb the watching of TV. I limit the consumption to just a few shows during the day. Along with the ones already mentioned, we occasionally watch The Price Is Right and Sportscenter. And with the start of the baseball season we often catch an afternoon game at Wrigley. Today, the Cubs took on the Brewers and after a bit of a rain delay we watched the game. Michael Keaton sang "Take Me Out To the Ballgame." I'm not sure how old he is now, but he certainly looks it. His Batman days are definitely over. Maybe he could play Alfred the butler. Anyway, he led the fans to a mediocre singing of the song Harry Caray made great. And when he finished, the crowd roared. And Mo clapped. I really didn't even know she was paying any attention. But when the song was over she clapped and looked at me to clap as well. So I did.

Hey, she's a Cubs fan.

Smashing!

2007-04-20T20:13:00.000-04:00

If spring is in the air it is time to buy a new mattress.

That could mean a few things. First, there is a little play on the word 'spring'. Most mattresses are made of springs and if one is the air, the mattress should be replaced. On the other hand, spring is a time known for rebirth and reproduction throughout the animal kingdom. And if you follow your animal instincts enough, you just may wear out your old mattress.

The word 'smashing' is a good double entendre. When used in terms of proper English it means good. When used by, say, members of the Clash, it is destructive. (Thank you JetSpeed.)

Everything planted in the Dandelion Garden is filled with multiple meanings. Okay, that may be stretching it, but there is some thought put into these ramblings. Didn't you like the 'gum' reference at the end of the last post?

One of the nicest things about good weather is simply being able to get out of the house more. There were many periods thoughout the winter when I only stepped outside to check the mail and take out the garbage. This week, we've been all over the place. Yesterday at Home Depot Mo and Hank were sitting next to each other in the race-car cart. Although they thought they were steering I was the one driving a little crazy through the aisles. At one point I told Mo to hold on to her brother as I took a sharp turn. She put her arm around him and didn't let go. Ever. We went through the rest of the store and she had a good grip on him the whole way. We got some pretty good smiles.

Smashing! (the good way)

not enough energy

2007-04-19T23:16:00.000-04:00

I wanted to write something prolific tonight. I wanted to contribute to society. I just wanted to write. Create. Live. I started a new blog tonight. I posted comments on a few others that I have just discovered. I can't believe someone can walk into a building and randomly shoot people. I do believe it. It happened. I took my children to Home Depot today and put them into a race-car-type shopping cart and they sat side-by-side and Mo put her arm around Hank when I told her to hang on to her brother as I turned a corner. And no-one noticed. But me. I still can't believe someone walked into a classroom and started shooting students for no reason. Well, at least no sane reason. I need to mow the lawn but can't until all the dog crap is picked up. And it stops snowing. But, frozen dog crap is much easier to pick up than warm (defrosted?) dog crap. I would rather pick up dog crap, forzen or thawed, for eternity than shoot anyone. Unless water pistols count. I still have not made muffins. I bought muffin mix more than a week ago and it is still sitting in the cupboard. How tough can it be to make muffins? Blueberry muffins. Everything is easier to buy at the store - any store. Banana nut muffins at the hardware store. Underwear at Goodwill. John Mellencamp records at Hallmark. Just don't buy anything from the evil Blue Empire. That's where lunatics can buy their guns but not baseball cards. At least not packs of baseball cards with chewing gum. (Not that the gum was ever chewable.) It is not the gum that kills people, it is the person chewing it.

Billy Pilgrim

2007-04-12T21:57:00.000-04:00

Vonnegut is gone. And so is Imus. Happy, happy. Sad, sad.

(Or actually, sad, sad, happy, happy, but you get the point.)

Last night a storm hit our area. Our neighborhood. Our house. Okay, not really the house but everything on our deck. I opened the blinds just in time to see our cheap plastic table soar out of the yard. In the morning I found its pieces thoughout the surrounding lawns. We also lost the antler to a moose. I thought he was made of wood but apparently he is some type of ceramic. I may be able to super-glue him back together. What good is a one-antlered moose? The lilly frog will be lonely without him.

So it goes.

I can't find my copy of Slaughterhouse Five. It has been years since I read it and I am sure it has turned a dull shade of paperback yellow somewhere in the basement. I did find Breakfast of Champions. It was right next to On the Road. Oddly enough, I recently had a discussion about Jack Kerouac with my dad. We were in the golf cart driving around his Florida condominium complex. He started telling me about a documentary he saw about a guy that wrote a book about traveling across the country. He seemed more concerned about the post-depression, post World War II aspect of the story. So I was confused until he said the title was On the Road. I told him that other than Animal Farm and most of Shakespeare, On the Road was the only work I have read more than once in my life. (Animal Farm is short - an afternoon read. And a Shakespearean play cannot be understood in one reading, no matter what anyone says.) So, I pulled both books off the shelf. One for me, one for dad.

Both for Kurt. And Billy. So it goes.

Fish die. Not long ago, we bought and assembled a good-sized fish tank - 28 gallons, freshwater. We have tried to follow basic instructions for the maintenance and care of such a tank. We have varieties of fish that supposedly are happy together. We check the water regularly and and make adjustments with the proper chemicals. And we feed them enough, but not too much. Still, they occasionally die. I would say we have purchased about 15 fish and lost 3 in the last two months. That's probably a good ratio, but what do I know? Somewhere, deep in my psyche, the whole fish tank project is just a replacement for Jack. He would have liked the fish. In more ways than one.

And so it goes.

Nurture

2007-02-23T21:55:00.000-05:00

Cookies are easy to make. I don't mean the kind where you open the package, break off a few pre-cut chunks and put them in the oven. I mean from scratch. I made cookies today and although the ready-to-bake kind might be really frickin' easy, pulling out the flour and eggs and sugar is not that tough. The cookies I made may not taste any better than the pre-manufactured kind, but they feel better.

Make your own cookies.

I have all the necessary equipment to make beer. (That really should not be a shock.) I have done it a few times and it has always gone well. But nothing I created ever tasted as good as a Harp or Bass or Bodington's. Maybe someone needs to come up with easy, ready-to-brew beer chunks. That's something I would invest in.

Buy good beer.

I have thought about opening a coffee shop. Actually I would open a chain of shops, but that is just the way I think. The easiest thing to do would be to buy into a franchise. But I really don't want to do that. I would rather take my chances on my own and see if I can do better than all the major chains in the world. My odds of success would be small, but at least I could fail my way.

Take chances.

We have recently purchased a large fish tank - 28 gallons. That's not very big for all the fish-geeks out there, but it's a good size for us. It's all ready to go and just waiting for some actual fish. Apparently you need to wait a while to make sure the water is just right before adding fish to the tank. Something tells me Chick's patience is about to wear thin and we'll have fish by the end of the weekend. Anyway, I don't know why I wanted a fish tank. We already have a few small tanks - one with a goldfish, another with a frog. We also have a terrarium with a tree frog. That's a lot of creatures in the house. I guess I like taking care of things.

Nurture.

january

2007-02-11T22:14:00.000-05:00

Nothing grows in the month of January. The same is true for February.

Chick wants to move south - she does not like the cold. In many ways I like the changing of the seasons. That's what life is about - change. All people continue to change. Some consider it to be aging but I like to think of it as evolving. If you stop changing, or evolving or adapting, you're dead.

But as I was attempting to put a winter coat on Hank in Red Lobster today, I began to understand Chick's thought process.

I doubt that I will spend the rest of my life in my current state. Or State. I like changing and evolving and adapting.

Jack is gone. A cat can't bite a little girl and expect to live. She didn't cry - and neither did he.

That's life.

I want to move to New England. Everyone seems smarter in New England. I am tired of stupid people. I'm really not that smart but at least I take my Christmas lights down by Valentine's Day. Okay, maybe the people who leave Christmas lights up are just lazy, but the line between stupid and lazy is thin.

Snow is coming. I hope it covers the new dog shit. I don't think I could ever take a crap in the snow - I don't know how the dogs do it. I imagine that they really aren't happy about it either, but that is their life.

Shit in the snow. Makes it tough to dot the 'i'.

Merry New Year

2006-12-31T23:38:00.000-05:00

So the kids have been in bed for a few hours and Chick has been upstairs for almost as long. And quite honestly I should have retired a while ago. But here I sit waiting to see one more year pass by.

11:33

I have attended quite a few New Year's Celebrations over the years. I don't recall most. The 2000 party was one heck of a time but I think I still have just a bit of a hangover from it. (A good party never leaves you.) But I have not celebrated the changing of the calendar much in the last few years. It's not just that I have gotten old or have more responsibilities - both are true. It's just that New Year's Eve is an amateur night. And I went pro a couple of years ago. Now, instead of running around drunk trying to kiss as many strangers as possible within 12 rings of the clock, I sit in my living room with a cheap beer writing a blog entry few people will ever read. How do I get my amateur status back?

11:47

Earlier I heard the song "Astral Weeks" by Van Morrison. I know that one of his best albums was titled Astral Weeks, but I don't ever think I heard the title song. It was quite good. Significantly better than whatever Gwen Stefani is singing right now on MTV. I'm pretty sure I am no longer a part of the MTV generation. What happened to Martha Quinn?

11:52

So the holidays are over and I never really got to write much about them. I still have to put something together about the Gingerbread Brothel. And where is my Tyco Glow-In-The-Dark eight-car loop-de-loop race track? I did get a pair of pants from my mom. She bought the right size and they fit nice. But Chick pointed out that they have an elastic waist-band. One more year, one more inch.

11:55

I have just a few minutes to find someone to kiss at midnight. The cat is upstairs with Chick. I don't dare wake up the kids. There are two dogs somewhere on the other side of the couch but I'm not sure where their tongues have been. So I guess I'll just celebrate the new year picking dandelions in the garden.

11:59

Scrooge Had It Easy

2006-12-19T20:09:00.000-05:00

Last night I could not sleep. So I turned on the TV and started surfing. I stopped on ESPN Deportes to watch a billiards match - that should have done the trick. But in a short time I realized that it was not eight-ball I was watching, it was snooker. More specifically, the International Paul Hunter Memorial Snooker Championship. Now I don't know much about snooker but I'm willing to learn. The object seems to be to hit a ball off the rails a few times without hitting your opponents balls. But I couldn't figure out much more than that because it was being broadcast in Spanish - ESPN Deportes. My Spanish really is not that good. Come se dice "speak slower" en Espanol?

The reason for my bout of insomnia deals with the time of year. No, I'm not stressed about the holidays or even the fantasy football playoffs. I'm worried about the upcoming death pool draft. I'm afraid that I may be haunted by the ghost of the Circling Buzzard in my sleep. As the ghost of Death Pools past, Phyllis Diller shows up in a bikini to take me to the grave of Arthur Miller. Fidel Castro shows me the present day memorial/celebration parade in honor of Augosto Pinochet. And finally, Ariel Sharon arrives to take me to the future ceremony of George W. Bush posthumously receiving the Lifetime Nobel Peace Prize for his work in the middle east. That's when I wake up in a cold sweat with 'stay-the-course' ringing in my ears.

Dreams are a strange thing, especially this time of year. Joseph had an angel appear to him in a dream and he threw his wife on a donkey and headed to Bethlehem for the birth of a child that was not his. That's one heck of a dream. Of course, Ebenezer Scrooge's dream is the most discussed this time of year. But if he would have realized the dream was just a result of some bad acid he took in college, he could have saved a few more bucks. Martin Luther King had a dream, too. It did not really have anything to do with the holiday season. But I did get 22 points when his wife died last January.

My Desk is a Mess

2006-12-12T21:41:00.000-05:00

I have come to hate messes and I do my best to get rid of them. I spend the majority of my days cleaning, vacuuming, wiping, straightening and dusting. But my computer desk is a complete mess right now. There are numerous ways to solve the problem of the messy desk. I could just shove everything into a large green plastic trash bag. I could methodically put everything in its place. I could pour lighter fluid on top of everything and light a match. I could pick up my laptop and go into another room. Or I could write about the mess.

I choose the latter.

There is a light saber on my desk. It's not a real light saber - that's upstairs. It's just a plastic toy one that Chick bought me a few weeks ago. Apparently she was shopping for presents to give to kids at her company's Christmas party and she decided that I needed a light saber. Well, another light saber. I am grateful for the gift and it reminds me of an interview I once read with Samuel L. Jackson. On his first day on the set of the filming for the fourth Star Wars movie he talked about going through wardrobe. They picked out some robes and such and then someone asked him to pick out his light saber. That's when he knew he made it as an actor.

There are two boxes of Christmas cards on my desk. One box has a Peanuts theme, the other is the Grinch. Is it any wonder that the Pilgrims were against Christmas because of its pagan traditions? There is a big story in the news regarding the Seattle airport that took down its Christmas trees. Apparently a Rabbi requested, and threatened to sue, unless a Manorra was placed in the terminal. The airport refused to cave-in to his demands so they removed the trees. My question is, when did the Christmas tree become a religious symbol? The last time I read the Bible, there was no fir tree in the stable. If anything, the Seattle christians should sue that Rabbi for suggesting that their religion is based on pine trees with pretty lights and tinsel!

The scariest thing on my desk is a candle. A Christmas tree candle. It's probably 12 inches tall and has bright eyes and a disturbing smile. I would burn it, but it could take days. And, for that matter, based on its silly grin, the thing might be alive and refuse to burn. It's really very scary. Remind me not to buy any more Christmas decorations at Big Lots.

There is a baseball on my desk. It is an official Major League ball. I caught it. Well, not exaclty. It bounced off of my hands and I grabbed it. Chick, my dad and I were at a business day special a few years ago down the right field line. And someone hit a screamer right at me. The best thing I can say is that I stopped it with both hands. Then it fell in front of me and I picked it up. And for some reason it has been on my desk ever since. And Rawlings is still imprinted on my palm.

There are three crayons on my desk. And a deck of cards. An instruction booklet for a breast pump. My latest E*Trade statement. A Birthday card I need to send tomorrow. A clock that I think is broken. A stack of football cards. A Cracker Jack stamp of Johnny Bench. A cross pen that needs a refill. Numerous notepads. A memory stick. A hockey puck. And a stress ball shaped like the Earth.

Where in the hell does this crap come from?

Christmas Wish List

2006-12-06T22:08:00.000-05:00

Ebenezer Scrooge
- prescription for Lunesta

Frosty the Snowman
- 1 gallon of sunscreen - SPF 220

The Little Drummer Boy
- a good bassist and guitarist to complete a hard rock power trio

Joseph the Carpenter
- membership in Travelocity.com

The Grinch
- a high-powered rifle with a scope (that will stop the singing)

Bonet the Christmas Pig
- rings of pineapple and a honey glaze

Hermey, the 'dentist' elf
- track lighting and anything Prada

The Three Wise Men
- three loose women and a bottle of Jack Daniels

The Partridge in a pear tree
- any food that does not consist of pears

Tiny Tim
- a candy cane

Yukon Cornelius
- a weekend in Amsterdam

Santa
- A GPS navigation system so he can put Rudolph back in his place

Maurice the Christmas Donkey
- ribbon candy - lots of ribbon candy

The Still is Dry

2006-12-01T21:10:00.000-05:00

It's been more than a week since anything was planted in this garden and yet there is nothing new to add. I've got beers and music playing and lots of things going on in life. But nothing worthy of the garden.

The other day I wanted to put a piece together involving a bunch of questions that I have been thinking about. Like, is it worse to put the kids in the car for a coffee run or a beer run? Or, do anarchists have regular meetings and do they follow the Peter Principles? And, what do Santa's elves give their children for Christmas?

But I never got around to writing that entry.

So then I was just going to recap everything that has happened in the last week. You know, everyday stuff. Like how in the last seven days Mo and I both had a cold and I got over mine but I'm still wiping her nose. At what point do kids learn how to sniff? It seems so simple - just inhale through your nose and the snot goes back up! But no. I've got to run around with tissues in every pocket waiting for that snot-bubble to burst so I can wipe it up before it runs into her mouth.

But I never got around to writing that entry.

The other day I came up with a great title for an entry: Putting the X back in Xmas. It's that time of year again when all the religious freaks come out to complain that not enough people recognize Christmas as the birth of Christ. Of course they don't realize that 'Christmas' has been celebrated for 4,000 years to commemorate the winter equinox. And in the fifth century the church told everyone that the equinox was also the same day Jesus was born, just so they could join in the pagan festivites. And as a further example of the ignorance of the religious freaks, the letter 'X' in Greek represents 'CHI', which has always represented the word 'Christ'. Of course, what would those people ever do with an education?

But I never got around to writing that entry.

I don't know if I can match some of the Christmas stories that I wrote last year. I am not sure which I like best, Hanging Around the Tree, The Christmas Pig or Yo Saturnalia! I enjoyed creating each those stories and I am not really sure I can do better. I have an idea about a kid that really wants a lump of coal for Christmas. He leaves Santa a plate of dry polenta and a glass of tomato juice on the fireplace. But Santa checks his list and finds out that the kid has actually been pretty good. So he gives the kid a pony that ends up eating the polenta.

Maybe I'll get around to writing that entry.

Another Dead Turkey

2006-11-22T20:37:00.000-05:00

I really have never been a big fan of the Thanksgiving Holiday. No one gets any presents and I really don't like gorging myself on cranberry jelly. Or yams. And certainly not noodles. The football games are a nice touch but I could do without the morning parades. I don't love a parade any more than I love Raymond. My bitterness may come from growing up in the food business. My family was always very busy leading up to Thanksgiving and even busier the day after. I really didn't mind the hard work, but there was never much profit in selling turkeys.

There has been an interesting documentary on the History Channel this week about Thanksgiving and its origins. Obviously most people know that the Pilgrims invited the Wampanoags over for a little feast after they showed them how to survive in the 'new' land. One of the interesting things that I learned from the show was that for many years the Pilgrims, or Puritans, continued to celebrate Thanksgiving in place of Christmas. Although they were obviously very Christian, they felt that, even then, Christmas was too much of a pagan holiday. And they didn't even know about Rudolph yet!

The Pilgrims were an interesting group. An ultra-conservative, super-religious clan that were so unhappy with their living conditions, they hopped on a boat and sailed across an ocean to start a new life. Then, about 150 years later, many of their descendants were still unhappy about a tyrannical monarch and chose to fight for their freedom. It was another 150 years before the Bolsheviks ended the concept of monarchies throughout the world. Of course the largest revolution occurred in 1979 when the people in Iran overthrew another brutal dictator. Looking at those groups of people may shed some light on why there are so many problems in Iraq these days. All of those people in history made a decision to change their lives for the better. The change that they demanded came from within and they took action to make the changes. While I am sure most people in Iraq are happy to be rid of a cruel leader, the change was still forced upon them. They may have wanted it, but they did not earn it themselves. Either way, it does not look as if there will ne any type of Thanksgiving feast anytime soon in Bagdhad.

"I swear, as god as my witness, I thought turkeys could fly."
- Arthur Carlson, WKRP in Cincinnati

This morning I dressed Hank in an outfit. It was a cute little onesie and pants combo with tiny cars and somewhere in the house there is a bib to match. As a matter of fact, it was so cute I am still disgusted. The only reason I put it on him was that it was his only clean outfit. And if all of his outfits are dirty he won't have to wear one in front of everyone over the holiday. Outfits are for old ladies who have given up on trying to be fashionable. This is my son. He's going to have a hard enough time in life overcoming all of his father's shortfalls. He doesn't need to look ridiculous doing it. He'll be just fine in jeans and a t-shirt like his sister.

Friday Night with Otis

2006-11-17T21:51:00.000-05:00

I really was not a big fan of Nirvana when they first hit the music scene. I distinctly remember hearing the album Nevermind for the first time. It scorched my speakers in the basement of the fraternity house while a bunch of us played some pool. I was intrigued but not really impressed. I preferred Pearl Jam and Soundgarden and Stone Temple Pilots. But now I miss Nirvana and I get just a little excited every time I hear one of their songs.

"Hey. Wait. I've got a new complaint."

For most of my life I have eschewed what is popular. As a kid I never wanted Nike shoes. In college I let my hair grow just because everyone else cut theirs. Even today I take a lot of pride in being a stay-at-home dad. Being different is very important to me. But don't ask me to explain the BMW I got when I turned 18.

"There's been a murder in the trailer park tonight."

As I was flipping through a Christmas catalog today - wait, I know, I WROTE the last entry. But we get like three catalogs a day and there are presents to buy. So I was flipping through one of the sillier catalogs and came across a sweatshirt that read "Mess with me and you mess with the entire trailer park." But actually I prefer "Jesus loves you, he just likes me best."

If that catalog gave a volume discount I would be getting everyone a sweatshirt for Christmas. Sure, it's a little more expensive than Chia Pets but there is a lot more variety. And everyone can use a cheap sweatshirt with a stupid saying on it. I just wish I knew someone that really was a "Struggling Hair Farmer."

"Gentlemen, at the sound of the harmonica solo, you may come out fighting."

I am not an environmentalist. Everything is recyclable. Sure some things, like banana peels, return to the earth in just a few years. While other things like, say, prosthetic limbs, could take thousands of years to decompose. But how many of those are thrown away every year? When I was younger I used to collect all of our aluminum cans and take them to a recycling center. Not because I cared about the environment - I wanted the cash. That may help to explain the BMW.

"We always did feel the same, we just saw it from a different point of view."

For Christsake...

2006-11-14T21:47:00.000-05:00

IT IS NOT CHRISTMAS YET!

There are trees still holding on to leaves.

We still have a jack-o-lantern with a candle in it rotting on the front porch.

The NFL just passed the halfway point of the season.

I haven't had a chance to pick out what I want from the Sears catalog.

Michigan has not played Ohio State.

It's cold but not 'parka' cold.

I haven't even complained about Thanksgiving yet.

Any "live" tree bought this early wouldn't make it to St. Nick's Day.

And the Candy Corn is still soft.

I understand that retailers need to start marketing their products to grab the attention of holiday shoppers. But it's the frickin' 14th of frickin' November. Let me digest my kids Halloween candy. Let me rejoice in the election day results. Let me prepare to loosen my belt for a Turkey dinner. Stop shoving Christmas down my throat.

This evening I noticed that my local Steak 'n Shake had garland and lights adorning the restaurant. Now, I like steak-burgers and thick milkshakes and even the thin fries. But, Steak 'n Shake, you are not going to lure me into your establishment in the middle of November by putting up Christmas decorations!

On the other hand, the Peppermint Latte at Starbucks is delicious.

Day At The Races

2006-11-11T18:40:00.000-05:00

As responsible parents Chick and I feel it is important to expose our children to all that life has to offer. So we spent Saturday afternoon at the track. There is a pretty nice race track just around the corner from of us and although we have been in our home for about a year and a half, we have never visited this venue. It really was not very different from most of the racetracks that I have been to over the years. Which probably just means I need to get out more.

It was Scarlet and Grey Day at the track and everyone wearing those colors got in for free. I wore the Green and Grey sweatshirt I bought thirteen years ago in college and gladly forked over the two dollars for admission. Another two bucks for the program and I quickly realized I needed to win the first race just to break even.

We sat at a nice table in the clubhouse overlooking the track so Mo could see the horses. She was actually more interested in the mini-TV on the table. I am sure if we surfed hard enough we could have found the Backyardigans but we were not there to watch cartoons. We were there to place Mommy's hard earned cash on some horses. If we happened to eat some crappy food and have a few beers, so much the better!

Believe it or not, our horse won the first race. Our two dollars across-the-board won us over nine bucks thanks to the number 7 horse, Au Juicy Momma. That, coincidentally, is Chick's nickname for at least the rest of the weekend. Our next few picks came in fourth place, which I think you should be able to bet on. That's normally where my horse ends up and fourth out of eleven isn't so bad. We landed in the money one more time thanks to Jim's Pride and Joy. I swear that was his name. I kept the program as proof. He only came in second but winning is winning.

After losing one more race we headed for home as it was nearing nap time. That would not be a good name for a horse, Nap Time. Headed For Home would probably work well. But nothing is as good as Au Juicy Momma. At least not today.

On Preparing A Roast

2006-11-09T14:36:00.000-05:00

To prove that one does not need to be a gourmet chef - or even really know how to cook - today we are preparing a roast dinner for the family. If done properly a roast not only provides a hearty meal it requires little preparation and clean up. And while a salad may be nice and dessert is always welcome, the roast itself provides protein, starches and vegetables - no need for side dishes.

The most important ingredient for the roast is beef. While it is very likely that some uber-wealthy fools have prepared a roast with tenderloin, such a pricey cut of meat is not necessary. A good hunk of chuck is the cheapest way to go. But today we are using a top round. Age is important for meat. Be sure to follow this golden rule - as long as meat is used within one grocery shopping cycle it is still good. Our top round was acquired last week and since we need to go shopping tomorrow, it is still fine.

Set the oven to 350, throw the meat in a pan, add a few cups of water and maybe some seasoning and cook for an hour. At this point it is time to open the second most important ingredient - alcohol. Certainly the drink is not for the roast - it is for consumption. No bad cook should be without a good drink. A nice buzz not only helps one tolerate the kitchen experience it provides a good excuse if the meal goes bad.

Potatoes and carrots make the roast more than just a slab of meat. Search through the bottom of the pantry to locate your best potatoes. Remember, sprouts can be broken off but soft, dark spots could be trouble. Peel and cut the potatoes into 1/2" chunks. Baby carrots are always good unless they are slimey. Rinsing normally takes care of that problem. If you happen to find some canned potatoes and/or carrots it makes the job a bit easier. But they need not cook as long with the roast.

After an hour of cooking - or two drinks, whichever comes first - add the carrots and potatoes to the roast. Put back into the oven, still at 350, for about another hour. Timing is crucial for the roast. Not because you are concerned with it being raw or overcooked. Just be sure your spouse gets home from work within a half-hour of putting the roast back into the oven. By then you should be done with your third drink and the problem isn't yours anymore. And as long as you have a drink ready for your spouse it will be the best meal of the week.

Too Much Sports

2006-11-06T08:12:00.000-05:00

My life has become way to involved in sports. Well, sports and diapers. Right now I can't do much about the diapers but I need to pull back the reins on football. I spent most of Sunday engaged in the sport. Between four fantasy teams, a few on-line bets and the artice I write recapping the best performances of the day, I am hardly able to just enjoy watching a game. The fantasy teams may be the most troublesome. Two of my teams lost yesterday and one won easily. But I need my kicker to get 12 points in the Monday night game for the Sunday Streakers to win. So although I have vowed to not watch any ESPN today I'll spend the day thinking about the eighteen different ways Josh Brown can get 12 points against the Raiders tonight. Something has to give.

Although the plantings in the Garden have been sparse lately, they too have been all about sports. That needs to stop too. Sporting events provide fine entertainment but there is a lot more to life. Of course, I still have to spend the next few days writing an article that previews every football game next Sunday. That's what has been taking up my writing time. That and changing diapers.

Even the Circling Buzzards have been taken over by sports. The latest death was Red Auerbach, the long time coach and owner of the Boston Celtics. He was worth 11 points for me but I'm still in third place by quite a bit. If I could just get Fidel Castro, Jane Wyman and Roy Horn to all die in the same plane crash I've got a chance.

I would like to promise to post more articles in the very near future. I have some pretty good thoughts on election day that I would like to get out tomorrow. But I can't make any promises. There are 14 NFL games next weekend and a lot of diapers to change before then.

Football Dads

2006-10-02T10:40:00.000-04:00

As a rather avid sports fan, I found myself intrigued with the most recent Terrell Owens story. Last week Owens was taken to the hospital for an apparent drug overdose. He had been taking painkillers after having surgery on a broken finger. There were reports that he was trying to kill himself by taking all of the pills but those were apparently false. He was released from the hospital in the morning, practiced with the team that day and actually played against the Titans on Sunday.

One of the first reporters to talk to Owens after his ordeal was his good friend Michael Irvin. The former Cowboy and current ESPN analyst told us, amongst other things, that T.O. was being comforted and counseled by another good friend, Deion Sanders.

What a combination - T.O., Deion and Irvin! Three very, very good athletes who always played hard. But three guys that are never afraid to talk about money and spend it lavishly to stay in the spotlight. Three guys that scream for attention.

As the Owens story was unfolding Tiger Woods was winning another golf tournament. A week earlier he had not done so well in the Ryder Cup even though his friend Michael Jordan flew to Ireland to see him play. Maybe now that the baseball season is over Woods can get some help from his other friend Ken Griffey Jr. Now that's a combination - Tiger, MJ and Junior! Not just three great athletes but perhaps three of the best to ever play their respective sport. And three guys that never talk about money or scream for the cameras. Three guys that don't need attention.

So why are Woods, Jordan and Griffey so different from Owens, Irvin and Sanders?

One thing that stands out about Woods, Jordan and Griffey is the relationship that each of the men have had with their father. Tiger has never hid his thoughts and emotions regarding the impact his dad had on his career. Who can forget the image of Jordan lying on the ground, hugging the championship trophy - the first he won after his father was killed. Not only are the Griffey's the only father-son duo to hit back-to-back Home Runs, Senior still calls Junior after ballgames to help him with his swing.

With a little bit of research I discovered that Owens, Irvin and Sanders did not have an ideal relationship with their father. Terrell was raised by his grandmother as much as his mother and did not know who his father was until he was 12. Irvin was one of 17 children and although he did know his father, he died when Michael was a teenager. Sanders' father was a drug addict who died when Deion was seven.

That may not explain everything but it sure is more than a coincidence. I am not saying that men must have a strong relationship with their fathers in order to be successful in life. And I am certainly not saying women can't do a fine job of raising children without a father figure. I'm not joining Louis Farrakhan in his Million Man March. And I am certainly not trying to provide an excuse for Owens, Irvin, Sanders or anyone else who struggled through life without a dad. I am just pointing out something I was thinking about lately. Besides, I don't have time to solve the problems of society - naptime is almost over and I need to warm-up a bottle.

N-32

2006-09-18T20:07:00.000-04:00

Every Sunday, for as long as I can remember, my grandma would play bingo in a church basement. I can't tell you whether or not she even went to mass that day - but I know she went to bingo. Of course it was more of social rite than a gambling risk, but she still had to put down some cash for the cards and she could win prizes. The only thing that kept the game legal according to the laws of our government is that the proceeds went to a non-profit organization. (Yeah, the Catholic Church is non-profit - my fat ass. But that's a different blog.)

I wonder what grandma would say if she knew I had friends betting on when I would publish my next blog? Something tells me she'd be more confused than Porky Pig calling a 6-card cover-all.

I have discussed gambling in previous installments of the Dandelion Garden. I see absolutely no problem with putting down your hard earned cash on a game of your choosing. Or in my case, my wife's hard earned cash. As a matter of fact I am watching a football game right now that I have a few bets on. Not only do I want the Jaguars to beat the Steelers I hope both teams score more than 37 points combined.

Before I forget I need to mention the gameshow LINGO. It is a very, very simple game in which two players have to guess a five letter word after being given the first letter. You get five chances and they let you know if letters of your guesses are in the final word or not. I find it relaxing and aggravating at the same time. It's relaxing in that I can nail the words fairly quickly. It's aggravating because the people on the show are so goddamn stupid. The other day this team had one more guess at a word that they knew began with 'A' and had an 'E' and a 'T' in it. There guess was 'ACORN'. ACORN! You have an A an E and a T and you guess ACORN?!?! Idiots.

Texas Hold'em and Fantasy Football have become mainstays in our society. Both border on the issue of gambling but they do require a certain amount of skill. Just how much skill is definitely questionable. In poker you can have great skill in raising and bluffing and trying to read your opponents, but if the guy you're up against has better cards - you lose. The same goes in fantasy sports. Your team can do great on any given Sunday but if the team you play against scores just one more point, you lose. It's a lot like the reason why golf isn't a sport. As long as Tiger is playing it doesn't matter what everyone else shoots. Just ask Vijay.

By the way, Europe is currently a slim favorite to win this week's Ryder Cup.

I miss the garden

2006-09-15T22:31:00.000-04:00

I really got pissed at myself this evening. I was sitting outside on the front porch - stoop was always a better word but no one really has a stoop anymore. I had a little time to myself as Chick and Mo ran some errands and Hank was sleeping. So I planted some mums that I had been meaning to do for a while. And in the process, I spilt some dirt on my open can of beer. Mulch does not taste good but I did my best to remove the dirt. And I moved the beer next to the baby monitor.

I need to spend more time in the Garden.

Once again, I have little explanation for the lack of work in the Dandelion Garden. Sure, I now have two kids to take care of everyday. And I have been writing about both baseball and football for GetSportsinfo. Of course there are all those wonderful shows on TV that take up my time. (We still don't watch Little Bear and Dora is really fucking annoying.) I can only say that I wish I wrote a lot more of this crap whether any of you read it or not. So, once again, I'm going to make more of an effort in the near future.

Before I go any further, it must be pointed out that Voodoo Chile by Stevie Ray Vaughn may be the best song ever.

Chick mowed the lawn tonight. That's right she has a high-level job, gives birth once a year and now mows the lawn. Actually she always enjoyed mowing. I never touched a lawn mower until we moved into this house. As a teenager she used to mow lawns for spending money. Now it's good exercise - gets the cardio going. I'm perfectly willing to tak care of the yard but I'm kind of riding this whole 'I stay at home with two kids' thing. I don't think she realizes how easy it is. I only run into problems when the dogs bark at the mailman and wake me from the afternoon nap. I actually try to mess up the house around 5:30 just so she thinks I have had a crazy day and we can go to BW3's. It helps to leave diapers piled up around the door.

September is the best month of the year (sorry October.) There's baseball and football and sweatshirts and jeans and crisp mornings and cool evenings. The sun stays around long enough to enjoy the day and the moon turns from white to orange. Music from high school bands can be heard from miles away and the air begins to smell like autumn. September is nice.

And it's even nicer when spent in the Dandelion Garden.

Otis in the Morning

2006-08-12T10:24:00.000-04:00

So much has happened since the last planting in the Garden that I'm just going to do my best to provide an update.

In sports Floyd Landis won the Tour de France by cheating. At least two different test results would suggest that he took something to increase his testosterone level. Floyd the Barber could have used some of that. He was always a little light in the loafers. Just imagine Andy arresting him for doping..."Oh my Andy! High testerosa...that's very serious indeed. Do you think someone gave that to me when I was cutting their hair?"

In politics three different incumbent congresspeople lost in their party's primary this week. Former VP candidate Joe Leiberman was among the three but has since stated that he will run as an independent. Democrats are claiming that it will boost their party as people are tired of the war. Republicans like their chances as they see the other party in turmoil. What Democrats and Republicans, as well as Leiberman, don't really understand is that the people are tired of all of them and just wish politicians would go away.

I am proud to introduce a new Dandelion into the Garden - Hank. The little guy is just one week old but has already produced enough fertilizer to keep this Garden growing strong for a long time. But he is doing well and we are all happy to see him. If you would like to see some photos of Hank follow the Humbert Baby link up in the right-hand corner.

It has finally become acceptable to root for someone to die in the Circling Buzzards Death Pool. I have Fidel Castro and if he kicks it by tommorrow he will be worth 21 points for me. I would still be trailing by 61 points thanks to our military bombing the life out of Abu al-Zarqawi. You see, Death Pools aren't morbid when the bad people die.

Mo and I are no longer allowed to watch the children's show Little Bear. According to Chick it is too disturbing. The show is just about this little bear living in the woods with his parents. He has different friends that are all animals and they have little adventures. The disturbing part is that while Little Bear's parents are always fully dressed he never wears any clothes. Chick thinks he should be allowed to wear some pants at least. Of course it is a children's show so he isn't drawn anatomically correct - we don't even know if he is hung like a bear!

The American Way

2006-07-12T08:22:00.000-04:00

Apparently there has been some hot discussion in political arenas over the new movie Superman Returns. I have not seen the movie so I can only rely on what I have read in the NY Times. It appears that so-called 'right-wing' talk show hosts have issues with what the great American icon has been doing with his life. But before these conservative media superstars tug on Superman's cape there is one thing they should think about - Superman is an illegal alien. And we're not just talking about some guy who swam the Rio Grande. This guy is from another planet. Yes, we all know how the Kent's found the boy and raised him in the town of Smallville. But I would like to take a good look at his birth certificate. Does he have a working visa? Or a green card? In the name of national security I think it would be best if they round up this immigrant and throw him into GITMO where he is presumed guilty until the proper tribunal can be held. Which of course would include a large vat of water and a dunking machine - if he sinks, he's a terrorist.

And don't get me started on Aquaman!

If there is a city of Atlantis - and who am I to suggest otherwise - it would be an ideal place for an off-shore, on-line casino. There are many such sites throughout the internet that provide a place for people to play some entertaining games with their hard earned money. But, once again, the U.S. government is planning on taking that right away from its citizens. And if I were Aquaman, the King of Atlantis, then I would have a serious problem with my ally in the war on terror. What is wrong with the people of Atlantis making a few extra bucks for its children. The days of looting merchant and pirate ships are gone and on-line gambling could be a huge source of income for the small city-state. Nonetheless, congress seems to think it knows where its citizens best spend their gambling dollars: Indian Reservations, State Lotteries, highly taxed racetracks and riverboats and church bingo halls.

There are two major differences in the popularity of Superman versus Aquaman. The first can be seen in the world of music. There are numerous popular songs that deal with the man of steel, including:

I Am Superman by R.E.M.
Superman Song by Crash Test Dummies
Jimmy Olson's Blues by the Spin Doctors
Kryptonite by Three Doors Down

But the only song that I can think of about Aquaman is Walk on the Wild Side by Lou Reed.

Secondly, Superman has a much better outfit. The royal blue suit with red cape and emlazonned 'S' on his chest shows the man's power. But what does Aquaman get? An orange shirt with green tights. Sure, the whole outfit is Prada but that really doesn't help his case.

I like to think I am a big supporter of our government funded Public Broadcast System. Whenever I see a band I like on Austin City Limits I am sure to hit the internet and download some of their songs. Of course my biggest support comes in the form of the numerous Sesame Street toys we have lying around the living room. But recently I have developed a problem with the Children's Television Workshop. I do not dislike, nor am I bitter towards the little red monster known as Elmo. But there is a serious flaw in the ongoing piece Elmo's World. Elmo has a goldfish named Dorothy and for as long as the show has been running the fish has lived. As adults it is our responsibility to teach our children about death and we all know there is no way a goldfish lives for eight years. One of these days Elmo needs to come home and find Dorothy floating. "Uh-oh. Dorothy dead. Elmo know what to do. Elmo flush Dorothy. Hee-hee." Until our government steps in to stop these lies that my tax dollars pay for I am boycotting Masterpiece Theater!

And don't get me started on Snuffleupagus!

Nightswimming

2006-07-06T18:59:00.000-04:00

Tonight is perfect for skinny dipping. I just finished mowing the lawn and am working on a cheap bottle of wine. Mo and Chick are already upstairs and will be sleeping soon. The air is just the right temperature. Now all I need is a pool.

A pool is an integral part of skinny dipping. There is a pond at the front of our sub-division. It appears to be nice and clean but it's not really tempting enough to risk a night in jail. We have a new Elmo sprinkler that shoots water in all directions. But running around naked in the backyard isn't the same as swimming. At least not until I finish more of this wine.

"Oh, you always give people extra things Mr. McFeely!" - Mr. Rogers

I don't have any reason as to why I haven't planted much in the Garden the last few months. I haven't really been busy or doing anything different in my life. Actually, I have been on the lookout for some things to write about. Like the other day when I was behind a catering van on my way home from getting a Banana Mocha Frapuccino - Venti, of course. On the bumper of the van was the following statement: "Please don't toss me, I'm full of potato salad."

I'm just not exactly sure what that means. Is it a warning not to run into the van or there could be some serious roadside cleanup? Sort of like those old "Baby on Board" signs people used to hang on their rear windows. I can't honestly say I drove any safer when I saw one of those signs. Of course if I saw a Garfield stuck on the window....Ramming Speed!

But back to the potato salad. Maybe it is from a clever advertising campaign by the local caterer. A bunch of kids looking for trouble at the family picnic decide to throw their old relatives into the lake. When they head for Aunt Clara she yells, "Please don't toss me, I'm full of potato salad!"

"The country is run by extremists because moderates have shit to do!" - Jon Stewart, The Daily Show

Isn't a unicorn just a horse with a horn? And a zebra a horse with stripes? Chick seems to think that unicorns, zebras and horses are all different animals. She says that if a donkey is different from a horse and that if a donkey and a horse make a mule then unicorns and zebras are not horses. I would like to know what would happen if a zebra mated with a donkey? Would it be a striped mule or completely different animal altogether? That answer might solve our dilemma.

I think I need another glass of wine. And where's that sprinkler?

Daily Comical

2006-06-28T08:57:00.000-04:00

I have always been rather fond of reading the comics. It's a nice way to spend a few minutes and maybe even chuckle a little. As I have grown older I have found that I am more selective of the comics I read. Cathy always takes too long to read and I can't relate to it anyway. The same goes for For Better or Worse. People have protested some of the negative depictions in it but I have never been offended by Snuffy Smith - I guess I am not concerned with the plight of hillbillies. And Garfield is not funny - every cat I know would eat lasagna if given the opportunity.

I read all the single-panel comics. You know Ziggy, Marmaduke, Herman, etc. Thankfully they don't often take long to glance over.

Sometimes you have to decide if you are a B.C. kind of person...or...

you are more like the Wizard of Id.

I miss The Far Side. I don't even know why this is funny - it just is.

Calvin and Hobbes was awesome too, but I can't figure out why everyone thinks Calvin should be peeing on car logos. Maybe it's a 'Snuffy Smith' kind of thing.

Warm Mug of Cud (venti, no whip)

2006-06-02T21:13:00.000-04:00

If a cow placed an order at Starbucks she would probably ask for cud. Somehow and in someway the fine people at Starbucks would oblige their new customer. Not only would they charge the cow $4.95, whether she wanted whipped cream or not, they would make the beverage so delicious the cow would want to come back and order another one every day.

I have recently discovered that referring to maternity pants as 'clown trousers' is not any funnier in a second pregnancy than it was in the first.

I, like most intellegent, thoughful human beings, have numerous issues with the giant-mega-super-corporation known as Wal-Mart. I don't know why they think it is okay to sell guns but not the magazine Cosmopolitan. Sure, Cosmo has pictures of scantily clad women, often on the cover. But if the people who run the Evil Blue Empire want to put a stop to indecent exposure they need to have a required dress code for its customers. I know it has been really, really hot lately but is that any reason to go grocery shopping in a bikini? I guess I wouldn't complain if Jessica Simpson wanted to rummage through some fresh produce in her favorite two-piece. But most of the women wearing a swimsuit in Wal-Mart have very little in common with Jessica. Just picture your most hated former grade school teacher walking around in a cherry-red thong carrying a five gallon jug of pickles. That's indecent!

In a recent discussion it was mentioned that men generally are not as good with children because men are not as nurturing as women. If you believe that then you must also concur that women do not make good business executives because they are not as smart as men. Remember, a man needs a woman like a fish needs a bicycle.

Earlier this evening Chick pointed out an interesting bit of information that she came across in one of those magazines about being a better parent. (Actually they are only about being a better mother which is why I no longer read them.) She told me that one of the newest things to do is put sonogram pictures on cookies. I guess the technology has been around for a while to put edible photographs on cakes. So why not a fetus on a cookie? I'll tell you why - it's disgusting. It would be like eating an unborn child which currently reminds me of a few sophomoric 'grosser than gross' jokes. Trust me, don't put sonogram pictures on food. However, if you could somehow get the picture on the whipped cream of a Banana-Caramel Frappuccino, that would be okay. Venti, of course.

On/Off

2006-05-25T21:31:00.000-04:00

If the fly in the ointment is completely covered, he will fry-up nicely.

I have no idea what that means, but the thought just hit me while in the bathroom. That's where more than a few good ideas come from - the bathroom. Toilet Paper and the bidet are certainly two of the best. Hand sanitizer is a pretty good idea too.

But more about fried flies - they are high in protein. I remember having peanut butter worm cookies in the seventh grade. It was in Mrs. Chrisco's class. She was a real hard-ass and I am fairly sure she was fired for getting re-married. Sure, it was a catholic school and it was okay that she taught there after her divorce, but GOD forbid she found another person to love for the rest of her life. (Or at least the next five to eight years.) Either way, she was fired for getting married but not for feeding worms to her students.

I have recently tried a new beer called Tilburg's Dutch Brown Ale. I purchased a six-pack of the beverage based on the same criteria I use to buy wine - the label. Tilburg's features a strange bird-like creature, sitting in a chair, eating what appears to be a small human being with birds flying out of its anus. Sure, it's not exactly a team of clydesdales but I was intrigued. I knew I had seen that image before but I wasn't sure where. A quick Google search led me to Hieronymus Bosch and his painting The Garden of Earthly Delight:

"I like coconuts. They smell like ladies lying in the sun."
- Widespread Panic

Yesterday I had a $60 cappuccino. Actually I had a Butter Caramel Iced Cappuccino from Tim Horton's. (Hey! I'm no slave to Starbucks!) But that didn't actually cost $60. As a matter of fact I spent exactly $60.27 on my trip to get a coffee. Because on my way to Tim Horton's I stopped to get gas. It took $57.38 to fill my tank with gas and then I paid $2.89 for my Iced Cappuccino. A lot of people may ask why in the hell I am spending so much on a frozen coffee treat? I would tell them that it tastes a lot better than a gallon of gas.

Palette

2006-05-10T13:49:00.000-04:00

Today is yellow. Not a bright, sunshiny yellow. More like amber. The overcast sky is colored with a warm, comforting amber. It is going to rain but there is a sense of calm. For even if the rain brings wind and lightning and thunder, the yellow (amber) morning sky has given us proper warning.

Giggles are not yellow, they are blue. Not a dark, John Coltrane type of blue. More like a Carly Simon shade of blue. Giggles rise from deep within oneself and are released with a grand smile. Carly Simon Blue.

Beige has no depth. Khaki. Tan. Ecru. Neutral. Sand. Camel. Dessert. Barrenness.

Flamingoes are not born pink. Flamingo feathers are naturally white or maybe ecru. The algae they eat turns them red. Or pink.

Flesh is a color best observed in black and white. Or, more accurately, shades of grey. Or gray. In the imagination it is important to choose from the many flesh variations. Anglo. African. Scandinavian. Middle Eastern. Indian. South American. Eskimo. Asian. North American. Sun burnt. Sun tanned. Albino. Scarred. Charred. Blistered. Tattooed. That’s why flesh is best left in black and white. Or gray. Or grey.

Roses are red and violets are blue. But rose is a color too. So is violet. And the flower known as a violet is more purple than blue but of course purple stems from blue. And I have definitely seen white roses. And yellow roses in Texas.

Monkeys are not purple but they may wear violet colored pants. Lizards are sometimes blue but they are rarely sad. Dogs are color blind and most snakes cannot see at all. I wish they knew what they are missing.

Keeping Holy

2006-05-07T11:52:00.000-04:00

Jed would certainly not refer to himself as being religious. But he did have a few rituals he liked to follow. Every Sunday Jed would get up early and make omelets for he and his wife. Then he would scan through the paper and work on the crossword puzzle. On most wintry afternoons he would sit in the living room and read a book. During the warmer months, the ritual was nearly the same – the omelet, the newspaper and the crossword. But instead of reading, Jed mowed the lawn.

On the first mowable Sunday of the spring in their new home, Jed was of a solemn mood. He did not really get excited about having to tend to the lawn – it was just part of his regular routine. If he was looking forward to anything, it was trying to figure out the best mowing route in his new yard. He started along the driveway and around the mailbox. He managed to cut a few rows when he noticed his neighbor, Mrs. Quatman walking toward him. He let the engine die and greeted her, “Good morning…is there something I can do for you?”
Mrs. Quatman was wearing a navy dress with dark stockings and black heels and her graying hair was held together with a large white bow. She had spoken few words to Jed since he had moved into the neighborhood but always managed the obligatory wave. Now, however, there was something on her mind. “Excuse me Jed but I couldn’t help but noticing that you were mowing your grass, on Sunday.”
With a bit of confusion Jed replied, “Yes ma’am. It’s the day I prefer to mow.”
“Well you see Jed, don’t you know…well…that it’s the Lord’s day?”
An impish smile formed on Jed’s face as he replied, “Which lord is that ma’am?”
“Well the Lord Jesus Christ our savior, of course.”
“Oh, I see. And I guess you have a problem with the whole ‘keeping holy of the Sabbath’ thing?”
“That’s right Jed. I knew you would understand.”
“Oh I do Mrs. Quatman. That’s why I mow on Sunday. The last time I checked, the Sabbath was Saturday.” With that, Jed started the engine again and proceeded to develop a good mowing route. Mrs. Quatman stood stunned for a few seconds before slowly walking back to her home across the street.

The following week Jed made omelets, read the paper, nearly finished the crossword and headed outside to mow the lawn. He made it through the third row of his new route when he turned to see Mrs. Quatman smiling at him. As the engine faded, she started with, “Now Jed, I thought we had this conversation about the Sabbath last week.”
“We did Mrs. Quatman. And I thought we agreed that the Sabbath was on Saturday.”
“You know, Jed, I asked my preacher about that very idea. And he says that in modern religion it is traditional that Sunday is the Sabbath. In fact, he showed me in the Bible where it says we are to rest on the holy day of the lord.”
“Well now Mrs. Quatman, I’m not sure about your religion but I do know a few things about the Bible. And I am pretty sure that if you look hard enough you’ll find a passage about eating pork in there. I think it’s in Leviticus where it says that anyone who eats pork, especially on the Sabbath, is committing a mortal sin. Did you ever have a hot dog on a Sunday afternoon Mrs. Quatman? Or…oh, I know…how about an Easter Ham? I’m sure you have Mrs. Quatman so it looks like we’re both in the same boat. I cut the grass on Sunday and you eat ham. Looks like we’ll both end up in hell together. Now if you don’t mind, I’d really like to finish the yard.”

A few Sundays passed and Jed continued with the omelets, the paper, the crossword and the lawnmower. He guessed he pretty well pissed off his new neighbor for telling her she would be going to hell. He wasn’t really proud of that idea, but where did she get off telling him when he can or can’t mow his lawn?

On the fourth Sunday after their last confrontation, Jed had just finished filling the tank on the mower when he noticed Mrs. Quatman striding up his driveway. “Good morning Mrs. Quatman. Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Jed, I see you plan on mowing your grass once again on Sunday.”
“Yes ma’am I am going to mow the lawn on Sunday. But let me ask you something Mrs. Quatman – obviously your god would prefer that I mow the lawn on a different day, is that right?”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“How about Monday? Is it okay for me to mow the grass on Monday?
“Monday would be very nice.”
“So, Mrs. Quatman, your god prefers that I mow the lawn on Monday instead of Sunday? Tell me something, is there a reason it’s okay to mow on a Monday? Does god not like Mondays as much as Sundays? If that’s the case, why did he even create Mondays to begin with!? We could have had the four-day workweek right from the very beginning! Of course then we would have really been confused about when to keep the Sabbath!!!
I’m sorry Mrs. Quatman. I can respect your beliefs and all, but I don’t see any reason as to why I can’t mow my lawn on any day I choose. Now if you will excuse me I would like to get started.”

Mrs. Quatman was not as angry as she was a few weeks ago and not as confused as she was the week before that. She merely felt a sense of defeat. When she returned to her house she heard her husband yell from upstairs, “Helen! What did I tell you about that new guy mowing the lawn on Sunday morning?!?! I’ve got a headache and I can’t sleep with that damn mower running!”
As she took a few steps up the flight of stairs she yelled, “Jesus Christ Fred! Maybe if you didn’t go drinking at the K of C every Saturday night we wouldn’t have this problem! It is the Sabbath you know!”

Otis On Deck

2006-04-20T19:53:00.000-04:00

I am an outdoorsman. I am not a lumberjack - but I do wear a lot of plaid. I am not an athlete - but I pulled a muscle once. I am not a hunter - but I do enjoy a good Bugs Bunny/Elmer Fudd cartoon. I am an outdoorsman because I am sitting outside on my new deck. I'd like to think I'm more of a new age, 21st Century outdoorsman. I've got a laptop computer with wireless internet, a ballgame on the radio and chinese takeout for dinner. I don't yet have a TV out on the new deck but it will happen someday. Outdoor living is awesome!

By the way, if it starts raining I'm screwed - especially with this computer on my legs. I may have to move inside but just pretend I'm writing this whole thing under the stars, with the faint glow of the highway in the distance. It will help you stay in the mood of the piece.

A bug just crawled onto the computer and into the keyboard. I think it died under the CAPS LOCK. Nope - it's okay.

Just a quick word about baseball - if you happen to be betting on the games this year take my semi-professional advice and take the OVER in just about any game. There are a few pitchers doing well but for the most part runs are being scored like everyone is on steroids. Ironically, Barry Bonds is off to a horrible start - a .214 average with no HR's and 1 RBI.

At the grocery store today I witnessed a woman call her husband a dumb-ass. It was another old man who pointed out how cute my "little guy" was. His wife turned and looked at him saying, "Fred, you dumb-ass, she's got pink flowers on her jumper. Would you dress a boy in pink flowers?" I just grabbed the toilet paper I was reaching for and headed down the aisle - with a smile.

With all that is going on in this country concerning the problem with immigration there is a movement in my state, again, to make English the official language. I honeslty understand the argument for it, but I have many questions: Would Taco Bell have to change its menu? What about a Pizzeria? Would we have to refer to french fries as "chips" as they call them in England? Or cigarettes as fags? Would I be allowed to order a Heineken in a restaurant? Or a glass of Chardonnay? And when I'm done with my bier and vino do I have to wait in queu for the loo?

Chick is eating cotton candy. I bought her some today at the grocery store. It was the one thing we weren't able to find for Baseballius. But as I was walking through the Deli there was a bunch of it amongst some old easter candy. So I got her some. And in about 5 hours I am going to be woken up by a woman saying, "Henry keeps kicking me and I can't sleep." At this point I wasn't really sure where I was going with this, then I turned around to look through the window to see my very happy wife put the last piece of pink fluffy sugar in her mouth. I am doomed. But she is smiling - for now.

I am at a crossroad right now. This has been a pretty good entry. I haven't put anything into the Garden for a few weeks and tonight everything feels right. I could probably go on for a while, and, I think I will. If you are trying to read this crap on your lunch break you may want to pause here and come back later. It's only 9:27 on my clock, I've got a fridge full of beer, a daughter that sleeps until 7:30, a ballgame on the radio and some crazy thoughts in my head. Hold on tight.

The President today - oh, no, no, no - I'm not going there. The Pope today - oh, no, no, no - not going there either. Tom Cruise today had a child. That's what people want to hear about right? Forget about politics and religion, what are the Stars doing in their lives? There is a new movie out - I don't know the title - that makes a mockery of our society because more people vote on the American Idol than the President. Maybe that's the policy we need to implement in Iraq and Palestine. Just have a text-message election and everything will be all right no matter what Simon says.

A few days ago we lost Jack. Apparently he got out onto the deck without notice and he disappeared. I found him after a stressful 24 hour search underneath our neighbors car. It's been 10 years since Chick brought that crazy cat home. He ruled that apartment and the three houses that followed. He has lived through numerous goldfish, frogs and lizards and may have had somehting to do with some of their abbreviated lives. As we brought home the dogs and eventually Mo he always seemed to accept his place as he slowly moved down the Totem Pole. The thing is, it's the one on the bottom of the pole that holds everyone else up.

By the way, I bet the Over on 3 games tonight and have already won all 3 bets. None of the games are finished as I type this.

What?!?! Gambling is illegal? What country am I in? Nazi Germany? Communist China? The Soviet Union? Oh, that's right, the beacon of freedom, the trophy of human rights, the perfect republic - the good old U.S. of A. But wait a minute - I can't bet 5 bucks that the Phillies and Nationals will combine for 10 runs? What if I want to bet that 76ers will win the NBA title? Or the Patriots win the Superbowl? Or the Canadiens win the Stanley Cup? I'm not allowed? Really? I guess I'll just head out to the bar on Sunday morning and drown my sorrows in a mug of beer.

WOW - I need to stay away from the politics. Or at least I need to stay away from the idiotic politics while drinking beers on my deck on Thursday nights after betting on baseball games and feeling the need to opine. (That's a great crossword puzzle answer - Voice Thoughts, 5 letters.)

Okay, in an attempt to leave you in a much lighter mood I will give you a quote. In honor of the return of Jack, here is a bit of wisdom from Garfield:

Never leave your food dish under a bird cage.

36

2006-04-07T19:41:00.000-04:00

As another year turns the corner for me I have done a little historical research. Here are some of the things people have accomplished in the 36th year of their life:

Vincent Van Gogh painted Starry Night - while in a mental clinic.

Poet William Blake wrote The Tyger.

Steven Spielberg created E.T.: The Extra Terrestrial.

Michelangelo painted The Creation of Adam on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.

John Steinbeck wrote The Grapes of Wrath.

Walt Disney released his first full-length feature film, Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.

Johann Sebastian Bach presented 6 concertos to the Margrave of Brandenburg.

Ben Hogan won the U.S. Open and the PGA Championship.

Paul Newman portrayed 'Fast' Eddie Felson in The Hustler.

Arthur Miller wrote the play The Crucible.

Don Knotts won his first Emmy Award for his portrayal of Barney Fife.

Babe Ruth hit his 600th Home Run.

Walt Whitman first published his collection of poems Leaves of Grass.

Robert DeNiro spent the year as boxer Jake LaMotta in Raging Bull.

William Shakespeare wrote The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark.

So starting tommorrow I've got some work to do.

On the Second Day of Baseballius...

2006-04-04T22:13:00.000-04:00

I hope everyone enjoyed their opening day festivities. I am sure a few of you celebrated in some way or another. And if you did, then tell me something - isn't Baseballius much better than Easter?

Apparently Pirates exist outside of Pittsburgh. In the news this evening there is a report of a fishing ship being overtaken by pirates off the coast of Somalia. It even managed to escape a chase by the U.S. Navy - of course the Pirates threatened to kill the remaining crew members. And that's not cool. I watched The Pirates of the Carribean just a few nights ago and I don't think anybody died in the whole movie. Of course, half of the cast was already dead. And then I guess they sort of died again. But that was because the British were a bunch of morons. But anyway, new age Pirates aren't cool.

"Anybody with ability can play in the big leagues. But to be able to trick people year in and year out the way I did, I think that was a much greater feat." - Bob Uecker

After the first day of the baseball season, I am not doing well in my fantasy leagues. The Playground Wedgies are in 8th place. The Hooterville Rabble are in 10th place. The Vatican City Hookers are in 5th place. And the Mt. Pilot Moonshine are in 5th place. But I like my teams' names.

Which is more idiotic? When a baseball announcer says "If he would have just hit that a little harder it would have been a Home Run" OR when a football announcer says "If that last guy doesn't tackle him, he would have scored a touchdown?"

I'm not the first person to ask this and I probably won't be the last, but why do baseball coaches wear uniforms? I just saw Bobby Cox of the Braves jog out onto the field to argue with the umpires. The guy is almost 65 years old and he's wearing a jersey with tight pants, stirrups and a pair of cleats. He should have plaid pants with a wide collar shirt, a white belt and a nice pair of loafers. The umpires have to be thinking "look a this old fart in the uniform! He can't hit. He can't pitch. He can't steal a base. And he thinks I'm going to change my call because he's wearing a uniform!?!? What a nut."

"Looking at the ball going over the fence isn't going to help." - Henry Aaron

With the celebration of Baseballius I have been opening many packs of baseball cards. My favorite has to be this year's Topps Bazooka Joe set. Each pack has a special 'blue' card, a super-thick card, a comic strip and a stick of stale gum. It also features many special inserts including stickers, tattoos and uniform cards. I recently received a uniform card for David Wright. That's a card with an actual piece of a game worn jersey attatched to it. He was my top pick for the Mt. Pilot Moonshine. It's a good sign.

"Look at him. He doesn't drink, he doesn't smoke, he doesn't chew and he doesn't stay out late -- and he still can't hit." - Casey Stengel as Yankees manager in 1956, on second baseman Bobby Richardson

Baseballius

2006-03-30T17:13:00.000-05:00

There is a new holiday making its way into the world this spring. It is known as Baseballius (pronounced bās-bôl-ē-əs) and it is the celebration of the opening of the Major League Baseball season. It is intended to take the place of Easter for those who are not religious, don’t like the paganism of that holiday or are just disturbed by the idea that a giant rabbit colors chicken eggs and leaves them in people’s yards.

The date will vary from year to year at the discretion of the MLB Commissioner. However, the primary day will be the first Monday of the season. In recent years, the first game has taken place on Sunday night. That will simply be known as Baseballius Eve. That evening it is the responsibility of every parent to read Casey at the Bat to their children before they go to bed. The story will provide visions of strikeouts and Home Runs dancing in their head.

When the children have finally fallen asleep and long after the final out of the game, the parents hide their children’s ball gloves around the house. It’s okay to let the kids know that the parents hide the gloves. But if you want to add to the mystery of the day, tell your kids that it is the San Diego Chicken who hides all the gifts for the children who have been good. The gloves will be filled with small toys, packs of baseball cards, Cracker Jacks, Peeps and colored eggs. (Chick is okay with the holiday as long as we have colored eggs and Peeps.)

The morning will be filled with shouts of “Play Ball!” as the kids search the house for their glove. “Play Ball” is the traditional greeting for Baseballius. “Happy Opening Day” and “Merry Baseballius” are acceptable as well. And don’t be afraid to give a “Season’s Greetings” as long as you are referring to the baseball season and not a particular religion. Unless you consider baseball to be a religion but I think that is just a Bull Durham thing.

As the kids sort through their cards and watch repeat episodes of SportsCenter the parents prepare for the first game. It would always be preferred to go to an Opening Day game but for most, spending the day in front of the HD TV will suffice. Either way everyone must wear their favorite players’ jersey or at least the team colors.

The Baseballius meal consists of hot dogs, peanuts, soft pretzels, popcorn and cotton candy with root beer for the kids and 20 oz. draft beers for the adults. Depending on the mood, and where the dogs are, it’s okay to drop the peanut shells and, really, all the garbage on the floor just like at a ballpark. Just remember that ketchup and mustard are tough stains to get out of carpet.

At the start of the game it is important for everyone to remove their hat and show respect for the National Anthem. It is not really necessary to sing along but it is a tradition to bet whether or not the person singing will hit the high note on “…the land of the freeeeeee!” If you happen to be in Toronto and are listening to Oh! Canada, well then there is not much you can do other than be happy you aren’t in Montreal.

The first pitch is the high point of the day. If your team is on the field and the first pitch is a strike your team will have a winning season. If you’re at the plate and your first batter gets a hit, your team will have a winning season. If the first pitch hits the batter and breaks a bone then both teams are headed for the cellar.

Unfortunately, the results of the games on Opening Day really don’t mean much. For all of the teams it is just 1/162nd of the season and a single game won’t likely determine a team’s fate. The same can be said for all of the fans. Baseballius is just the beginning of a holiday season that lasts seven months – Christmas is jealous. But the pleasure and happiness of the beginning of another baseball season can’t be matched.

Play Ball!

Alligators Revisited

2006-03-17T06:45:00.000-05:00

On the last evening of our Florida vacation Dad and I decided to do a little more fishing. We had both just won money on a couple of college basketball games and we were feeling lucky. So we might as well see how the fishing gods were feeling that day.

The gods were not pleased with me. On my second cast I hooked a fish but it broke my line. I was using 8-pound test line but some of these fish were big - very big. A few minutes later Dad snapped his line reeling one in too. As we were both sitting in the grass tying our lures I noticed a pair of alligator eyes pop out of the water. It was about 15 fifteen feet off the shore and about fifty feet to my right. I felt okay with the distance but it was close enough to check on every time I casted.

Meanwhile, Dad hooked another big fish, bigger than the last one that got away. But he was working it good and it looked as if he was going to bring him in. It jumped in the air about ten feet out and we saw that it was a snook. And it was with that splash that I noticed the alligator moving.

Dad worked the fish in the rest of the way and laid it flat on the grass. The alligator kept coming. "Um, Dad that gator is kind of moving toward us." He was oblivious as he shined in the glow of his huge catch. The snook was every bit of two-feet long and I couldn't guess as to how much it weighed. It was by far the largest fish we caught all week.

"Dad really, you need to turn around and look at the alligator. Dad!" With that last yell he turned to see the gator and immediately ran up the hill. I was close behind him. When we got to a safe distance we turned around and watched as the gator slowly crept out of the lake and grabbed the fish by the tail. The snook flapped once or twice and the gator shook his head back and forth. He rose up on his front legs as if he was posing for us. Or at least he was trying to say something like "thanks for dinner, boys!" Then he jumped around and dove into the lake.

We were amazed. With our hearts thumping we called a few people and started telling our story. Most people thought we were nuts but enough of them believed us. A few hours later on the way home from dinner Dad got a call from his friend and neighbor, Glenn. He had been out of town when Dad told him our story earlier. But when he got home his wife told him how she was sitting on the back porch watching the sunset when an alligator came out of the water with a big silver fish in its mouth. She said it sat there still for a few minutes then with one big movement tossed the fish in the air and ate it in one bite. So at least our story has some confirmation.

Boy, Florida is dangerous.

Alligators are Overrated

2006-03-15T20:00:00.000-05:00

Did you know that alligators are cold blooded and gain body heat by basking in the sun? Okay so most people know that but most people haven't seen one apply baby oil to its belly. The hard part, really, is getting the cap off the bottle.

Right now, as I type, there is a lake about 50 yards away from this computer that more than a few gators call home. We've been watching them all day but they don't really do much. If they are up on the shore and you get too close to them - like within 48 yards - they head back to the lake. And then you only see their eyes. But it's still enough to cast a fishing line right over them.

The Wally Gator Show premiered in 1962. The theme song went like this:

Wally Gator is a swinging alligator in the swamp.
He's the greatest perculator when he really starts to romp.
There has never been a greater operator in the swamp.
See ya later, Wally Gator.

I caught a couple of fish today but Chick caught more. She is a natural born fisherbabe. Dad, who lives here, has never caught a fish out of this particular lake. But I don't think he tries very often. The fishing was really Chick's idea. She's not afraid of Wally. Dad is.

Alligators have sensory pits along their jaws that detect changes in water pressure helping them to detect prey.

I have eaten alligator once or twice. It tastes a lot like chicken. But not in the same way that frog legs taste like chicken. Gator tastes like chicken in the same way that Emu tastes like beef. It's not chewy like Octopus but it does have the same zest to it like South Pacific Eel. But it really isn't like seafood, it's gamier like Rhinocerous. But not nearly as pricy. Of course it's best served on a bed of rice with a nice box of White Zinfadel.

In 1996 the University of Florida Gators won their first football National Championship.

Tomorrow we are headed to the beach where we hope to find no alligators. They should only be living in fresh or brackish waters. But maybe we'll come across some sharks. Boy, Florida is dangerous!

I Wish I Had Something to Say

2006-03-08T21:58:00.000-05:00

For those of you that think it is easy coming up with creative, intellegent and engaging topics to write about everyday, well, try it for yourself sometime. I feel a need and a desire to create but nothing is really popping in my mind. So you'll just have to put up with this crap...

The death pool has changed drastically of late. I really didn't think Dana Reeve was in such bad health. But I am most troubled by Don Knots. I am glad no one actually chose him in the Circling Buzzards - he would have been on my exemption list with Joe Nuxhall and Hugh Hefner. But I am happy to see all of the tributes to the great comedian in The Andy Griffith Show marathons. And if you don't like Mayberry you shouldn't be drinking with Otis in the Garden.

I want to write about the Patriot Guard Riders. They are the group of bikers that show up to funerals of military personnel to stop the protests of the Jesus freaks who want to kill all the homosexuals in the country. Actually the bible thumpers are protesting the military for protecting a nation that harbors homosexuals. So they show up to funerals with signs that read things like "Your son deserved to die because he was protecting fags!" But I really don't want to discuss it. Not because we don't discuss politics and/or religious beliefs in the Garden. Mainly I don't want to discuss it because it makes me want to vomit.

So....

We are heading to Florida on Friday. It will be Mo's first vacation and I am sure she will enjoy it. I don't know if we will make it to the beach but we'll certainly spend plenty of time at the pool. She has her sunglasses, bikini and floppy hat. We hope to make it to a ballgame but we ran into a snag. The closest team to see is the Red Sox and they are completely sold out. For Spring Training! So now I officially hate the Red Sox. Before they won the World Series two years ago I always appreciated them as being the underdog. But now that they won the title with the second largest salary in the history of the game they are nothing but big market bullies. It's not my fault the Yankees beat the crap out of you for so many years. The least you could do is let me see my favorite team take you on in March!

Cornhenge

2006-03-03T11:08:00.000-05:00

This is the result of leaving men unsupervised for a weekend.

I Hate Weddings

2006-03-01T11:31:00.000-05:00

Have you ever spent the day with the Chicken Dance in your head? I don't know how it got there and I'm having a hard time getting rid of it. I tried the Electric Avenue trick - you know, Eddy Grant, "We're gonna rock down to...Electric Avenue." Well that normally gets horrible songs out of your head. But apparently not the Chicken Dance.

I guess I ruined the record pace I was on last month. I was writing great the first two weeks of February and then I hit a wall. It comes and it goes. I have been writing quite a bit for GetSportsInfo as baseball season nears. Along with a number of team previews I now contribute Tribe Talk. It's a weekly Cleveland Indians report that will carry through the season. And in April I will resume Points to Ponder every Sunday - it's a good way to ramble on about baseball so I don't have to do it here.

I've actually been quite busy today. Along with some baseball research and of course taking care of Mo, I have done some serious spring cleaning. Hey, it's March - that's spring to me. So I've dusted and scrubbed and I think I have vacummed every room in the house. Of course with the vaccum cleaner in my right hand I can only do half of the Chicken Dance.

Next weekend Chick, Mo and I will head south for Florida to visit the grandparents. It sure will be nice to take a break from the rough life I have. The original plan was for me and Mo to spend a few weeks down there for Spring Training. But that wasn't very fair to the Dogs - and Chick. So the three of us are just staying for a week. I hope to catch at least one baseball game. I've never been to a spring training game. I wonder if it's like minor league games where they play the Chicken Dance at the seventh inning stretch?

For the record I don't really hate weddings. I mean, I try not to hate anything. But like most men I certainly don't enjoy attending wedding receptions. And one of the primary reasons for that dislike is the Chicken Dance. I am fairly sure that particular song would not be known past pre-schoolers if not for weddings. No rational, mature adult should be happy about doing the Chicken Dance. Of course that's also true about the Electric Slide but that's a topic for another day.

Mr. Mom

2006-02-17T22:06:00.000-05:00

Top Ten Reasons Why it is Awesome Being a Stay-at-Home Dad.

10) The Wardrobe
I used to wear a coat and tie to work every day. Now I live in jeans and a t-shirt. But what's even better than my daily attire is that I get to dress my daughter every day. She already told me she doesn't like frilly pink outfits so jeans and a t-shirt is perfect for her too!

9) The Price Is Right
Honestly, I don't watch TPIR every day. As a matter of fact, lately I have been keeping the TV turned off. But it's nice to know that every day at 11:00 I can watch one of my favorite all-time shows. Today Tyra Banks filled in as one of Barker's Beauties. I think I saw Bob cop a feel. "Hey Tyra! You left your toothbrush at my place!"

8) The Beard
Okay, so that may be a stretch. But if I could grow a decent beard I would. The point is, I don't have to shave everyday. I don't have to present a clean-shaven appearance for a boss or a customer. I can shave whenever I want to. Or at least until Chick says, "Hey - George Michael wannabe! Shave already!"

7) Starbucks
Before I detail this point, let me just state that I can't believe that my local Starbucks was out of Cinnamon Dolce Latte mix two days in a row. In protest, I did not even attempt to get one today. Let's see how long they can survive without my $3.85 every day.

6) A Clean House
Although we have certainly taken a step back with the purchase of our current home, I think it is the best we have had. It's not my favorite - both of our previous homes were awesome. But now we are living in a nice sensible house. I don't think our last house was ever completely clean. It had 14 rooms, 5 bathrooms and 11 sinks - we counted. Now we live in a house that I can keep clean every day and that fact alone makes it much better.

5) GetSportsInfo
What started out as a hobby has actually turned into some work for me. I enjoy writing and my involvement with GSI has been great. Recently I have taken a more serious role in the company and I am beginning to reap some awards. But I'm still just happy writing sports articles. You may be able to find my latest piece on the site about the top-ten spring training headlines. And in the next week I will have another 3 articles up on the site.

4) It's Different
I have never been one to follow a normal course of action. And my decision to stay at home with my daughter is a perfect example. I like doing things that differ from what people expect. And I have found that many people appreciate what I am doing. In the past eight months I can't tell you how many women have told me how great it is that I take care of my daughter. Of course I could do without the old men in the grocery store saying, "oh look at that cute little guy! He's just like daddy." Look you old fart! She has a vagina!

3) Naps
Morgan still takes 3 naps every day. I'm trying to get it down to 2, but she is just not willing. And that's okay because I take 2 naps every day. I wouldn't really have to except for the fact that I stay up late writing stupid blog postings for all of you to enjoy. Okay, that excuse probably doesn't work. Oh what the hell - screw you. I get to stay at home so I get 2 naps! Bite me!

2) Monday's
Actually this part might be better titled 'Sunday's.' No one in the business world really likes Monday's. But Sunday nights were much worse for me. I never used to be able to relax and enjoy a Sunday evening because I always knew that I had to get up for work the next day. Now, all that has changed. The worst thing I have to do on Monday is clean up after Chick being home all weekend. After I do that I can watch The Price Is Right and take a nap.

1) Mo
Bert has Ernie. Batman has Robin. Chico has the Man. I've got Mo. Somewhere in the relatively near future I am going to have to ground Mo for something bad that she did. And not long after that I am sure she will slam her bedroom door and have some choice words for me. But for now Mo is just my little baby girl. And my best friend. We sit together and watch the Price Is Right. I like to fan her with the newspaper. She likes to tear the daily crossword puzzle out of my hands. We both like crackers and grape juice in the afternoon. And we both smile when Chick comes home every night. It's a pretty good life for all of us.

Wednesday Night with Otis

2006-02-15T21:59:00.000-05:00

First of all, I do need to sincerely apologize if I offended any of the regular visitors of the Garden with the last posting. I think most of you took it all in the humor that it was intended. For those of you that got a little pissy, please remember that everything in the Garden is fiction.

Along those same lines, I am looking forward to working with Kelly. I hope she sends along some good material that we can reap and sow together. Of course Kelly, if you don't send me anything I can always make up some really nasty stuff and give you full credit. It's your choice really. Hmmmph.

And to wrap up the previous post, there were still 2 anonymous comments! Don't worry, I have a very good idea who you are and I will see to it that you pay accordingly. (If anything, I'll just write really long holiday stories that lead to nothing but make you waste 15 minutes of your life by reading them.)

On to the nothingness...

I am completely addicted to Curling. Yeah, I've actually been watching a lot of the Olympics which is difficult to admit in the first place. But Curling is on twice a day. I get it live and in HD during the morning hours. Then in the early evening CNBC broadcasts a taped match. The U.S. men's team is doing better than the women but the Johnson sisters are hot. Unfortunately, I don't think they are in the Women of Curling Calendar. Yes, it exists. As a matter of fact it's making a lot of news as it features sexy and semi-nude photos of some of the world's best female Curlers. I've got to get one.

Tommorrow I have to apologize to the Starbucks woman who works the drive-thru. But first she has to explain to me how they were OUT of Cinnamon Dolce Latte. It just doesn't make sense to me.

You may be wondering why Otis is planting his seed on Wednesday night. Yeah, I'm downing a few. Mo and Chick are both in bed so I have a little 'ME' time. And the way my life works these days the only difference between the weekend and a weekday is how much time Chick spends at home. So why not drink a few beers on Wednseday night?

I finished our taxes today. What a pain in the ass. I wonder how many people just don't do it? I mean it's really a pain even with TurboTax. And I'm still looking for the little boxes to designate where I want my taxes to go. That actually may be a good way to show how you support the troops. "Yeah I support our troops. I bought this little magnetic ribbon that I put on my car and I checked the box on my taxes that designated $10 goes to body armor." Actually I'm looking for a box to pay for Dick Cheney's shooting range lessons. Or at least a trip to the optometrist. (Insert rim-shot here.)

Do you know that the lowest possible score in Yahtzee is 5?

I just noticed that this is my fifth posting this month. I'm not sure what my record is for one month and I don't feel like doing the research but I am on a pretty good pace. Honestly, it's nice to know people read this crap. It is a large part of why I write it. That, and I'm just bored. (Here comes that nastiness again.)

What's more incredible than my five posts is that in the Circling Buzzards there has already been 4 deaths. And that doesn't count Ariel Sharon (C'mon - he's seen his last peace talks.) At this point last year we had only one death. Currently we are on pace for picking over 40 dead people! That would have to be some sort of Death Pool record.

Customer Appreciation Day

2006-02-14T23:13:00.000-05:00

I have just noticed that my counter is very close to hitting the 4,000 mark. When I started this blog just a little more than 2 years ago I had no idea that so many people would have visited the garden. Sure, I realize that a good part of that 4,000 was me checking things out. And sometimes I forced Chick to read some of the postings. And, of course, there is no way to prove the site-counter is really accurate. But I guess I'm proud of what I have grown in this Garden. Much has changed blah blah blah blah blah blah

What a bunch of shit.

Look you mother fuckers I could put something in this Garden every day if I ever really knew anyone ever gave a crap. But all I get is a few random comments from people who aren't willing to leave their name. I put myself out here with every post - the least you can do is acknowledge your presence!

Wait - I'm sorry. I shouldn't scold my loyal following. It shouldn't matter that some people are willing to contribute to life while others merely wallow in pools of jelly. Oh - I've done it again. I have offended the very people I need for sustenance. Son-of-a-bitch, I need a class in tact.

So I feel that I need to make ammends with those of you that regulary visit the garden. My harsh language is certainly uncalled for. Those of you that have RSS feeds informing you of a posting or those who simply have the Garden listed in your Bookmarks - you are the reason for life. You are the agar of the petri dish. The rest of you are mold. You show up occassionally just to see whether or not I correctly typed the word 'occcassionnlly'. And the problem with all of you is that I still don't know how to spell 'occassionalyy!'

So here it is - be the 4000th person to visit the Garden and win a trip to, well, the Garden. It's that simple. If you check the site meter and you are 4,000 you get to collaborate with me, Otis, the author. And together we will plant a seed among the Dandelions.

Buddy Holly

2006-02-11T23:43:00.000-05:00

As most of the regular visitors to the Garden know, we have a frog. Actually we have a few pets. Two dogs, one cat and a frog. We had some goldfish but currently the tanks are empty. In the past we have had geckoes and anoles but now only a lonely frog lives in the terrarium. Of course he's not really alone. There are a few crickets living with him that are supposed to be his food. Frogs are hunters and they prefer to capture live prey. But for some reason our frog is not hungry today. And there has been a cricket chirping in the tank ALL DAY LONG.

In some ways the gentle chirping of a cricket recalls warm summer evenings. In other ways it's really fucking annoying. I've tried to find the cricket and shove him out into the open. But he is well hidden in the foliage. I've talked to the frog in an attempt at encouragement. But his only reply has been "Hello my baby, hello my darlin', hello my ragtime gal!"

So now I'm just sitting here on Saturday night listening to some old R.E.M. (Life's Rich Pageant) and as I hear the cricket in the distant background I realize how much Michael Stipe sounds like an insect. And actually if you see some of his early photos, he looks like a bug. It's amazing how things are connected.

And that brings us back to the title of this piece. Did you know that The Beatles came up with their name out of respect for Buddy Holly and the Crickets? It's true - go ahead and look it up if you like. But it kind of makes you wonder how the Flaming Lips got their name. Or not, really.

Daily

2006-02-09T22:54:00.000-05:00

I don't know why I can't plant something in the garden every day. There are plenty of things going on in the world. I try to stay away from politics as the subject only kills the weeds. And so much of life has to do with politics nowadays. Unfortunately I have fallen behind when it comes to pop culture. I know U2 won a bunch of awards last night but I stopped listening to them fifteen years ago. How long do you think it will take before they are making fools of themselves during a halftime show? And that leads to the topic of sports. This is the absolute worst time of year for sports. What should we talk about the NBA or the NHL? Do they both still exist? All I know is that pitchers and catchers report next Thursday. But enough of athleticism, let's think about the Olympics. My favorite event has to be curling. There is little doubt in my mind that within the next 46 Olympic games curling will overtake figure skating in popularity. I mean, who in the hell wants to see little girls ice skate? Especially when you can watch 50 year-old men sweeping brooms down the sheet so the rock lands in the house. Okay, so maybe the luge is still more exciting, but can we just get rid of figure skating? Or at least combine figure skating with gymnastics? I'd like to see Kerri Strug do the parallel bars wearing razor sharp skates. That might get my attention.

Something has been Missing

2006-02-02T00:35:00.000-05:00

Make a wish.

What the hell?

What have you got to lose?

Friday Night with Otis

2006-01-28T23:40:00.000-05:00

Am I showing my age by admitting to listening to Cd's? I don't have an MP3 player. I have downloaded MP3's and I listen to the songs through my laptop. But currently I have a portable CD player hooked up and I am listening to Dave Mattewhs Band - Under the Table and Dreaming. I have nothing against the progression of technology but I am afraid that I will miss the art of the album. I don't know what I would do in life without Dancing Nancies.

The idea of listening to music may be something we take for granted here in the US of A. It is absolutely a freedom of expression. Sure, many albums are released with 'parental guidance' notices. But, of course, that only makes the record more intruiging for teenagers. To be sure, censorship is wrong in a free society - but the US of A has never really been free.

In the past few weeks I have read a number of books that make me wonder about the state of our society. In reading the 5th book in the Harry Potter series, I was confronted with the concept of a higher governmental power trying to overtake a school. (see Darwinism vs. Creationsim) Upon the completion of that extremely long Harry Potter book I picked up Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. The most incredible feature of that novel is that it was written in 1932 and it suggested so many truths in the very near future.

Alice Sebold wrote the Lovely Bones - a story about the results of a young girl raped and killed by a neighbor. Disturbing? Yes. I had to re-type that first sentence numerous times because I just couldn't type the word raped. But the story is not really depressing. It is about how a family and community deal with the death of a child.

I have read almost all of Shakespeare's plays. I have read most of Hemmingway. I have read Dickens. Tolstoy. Twain. Kerouac. Irving. Fitzgerald. Updike. But, for unknown reasons, I had never read Ray Bradbury. Until just a few weeks ago when I read Fahrenheit 451. Why should you care about the books I have read? Well, why in the hell are you reading this stupid blog? If you would prefer that all of your knowledge comes from television and that books are unnecessary, well then you will be very happy being a drone in the very near future.

Currently I am reading the book Wicked. It is the story of the life of the Wicked witch of the west from the popular Wizard of Oz movie. It too deals with social injustice and wrongdoings of the government. I don't know how the book will play out, but I have seen the movie and I know the ending. But can you blame the witch for being pissed that Dorothy killed her sister? I mean, what would you do if a house landed on someone you loved?

Afternoon Buzz

2006-01-11T14:25:00.000-05:00

I can now honestly say that I will never hit like Mickey Mantle. Sure, we could argue about the ballparks and the pitching and the baseball being harder in today's game. But that's not what I mean. Mickey was the best switch-hitter of all time. And I cannot run the vaccuum with my left hand. In my right hand I can zip around any corner and glide into narrow spaces. Put the thing in my left hand and BAM! right into the coffee table.

And speaking of coffee...that's where today's buzz is coming from. I'm sure many of you envisioned me opening a tall cold beer while my daughter takes her afternoon nap. Actually, I am currently enjoying the high from a Venti Cinnamon Dolce Latte from my neighborhodd Starbucks. If you haven't had a Cinnamon Dolce Latte you must try one. Tomorrow I'm going to try the Brown Sugar Dolce Latte. Venti, of course.

I have come up with a solution to all the arguing going on regarding the teaching of Evolution and Intellegent Design in our schools. We need to tell our children the truth. And the truth is that we really have no frickin' idea how life started on this planet. And until the guys that built the pyramids ever come back to this planet we probably never will.

It's nice to see Ariel Sharon doing better but I'm still a bit miffed about the apparent cover-up after his first stroke just a few weeks ago. Sure I understand it's a volatile region and they didn't want to scare people but they should have told us how bad he really was. If I would have known he was that bad, there would have been no way I would have let him drop to the 9th round in our death pool. By the way, have you checked out the Circling Buzzards lately?

Yo Saturnalia!

2005-12-15T14:16:00.001-05:00

Just outside of the ancient city of Rome there was a small village called Nuvia. The people of Nuvia were poor but festive. They were known to work hard through the summer months, toiling every bit of land good enough to hold seed. And in the winter they were known to throw some of the most outrageous holiday parties. This particular winter, Zeus had decided to join the Nuvians in their festivities. And on one particular evening he found himself sharing the bed with the most beautiful woman of the village – Adriana.
“What’s the matter Zeus? Those last three times I could tell something was on your mind?”
Zeus had transformed himself into a black bear to lure Adriana. But now he is resting on his back in ‘human-like’ form. “I’m sorry, my beauty, but this whole Saturnalia thing is starting to get to me. I didn’t mind so much when the Romans came in and changed my name. And I really don’t mind if those followers of Christ want to join in our orgies. But I think they are starting to take things too far.”
“What is it that you mean my handsome god?”
Zeus sat up and took a deep sigh. “Well, I was traveling through the local agora the other day disguised as a stallion. I just wanted to see what the people were up to. I was curious as to what the hot holiday gift was this year. It wasn’t long before I realized things had changed. I didn’t see one ‘Yo Saturnalia’ sign. And for that matter I didn’t hear anyone saying ‘Yo Saturnalia’. So I stopped at the olive oil booth and asked the vendor why he didn’t say ‘Yo Saturnalia’ anymore. He told me he was directed by management to be more sensitive to other religions and so he had to wish a ‘Merry Christmas’ to all of his customers. Do you believe that? Merry Christmas? It’s like they are trying to take the Saturn out of Saturnalia!”
Adriana put her arms around Zeus’ barrel chest (he was now in the form of a gorilla.) “Don’t worry Zeus. I’m sure this ‘Christ’ thing is just a fad. People will never stop celebrating Saturnalia.”
“Oh I’m not so sure my dear. It got worse. I went to the town square to see how the people decorated the statue of Aphrodite making love to a Centaur. And do you know what they had put right next to that holy statue? A manger scene! Apparently this Christ guy’s parents were too cheap to get a room at the inn and the kid was born in a horse stall. And now the Christians put a manger scene on the town square! Is nothing sacred?!?!”
Adriana withdrew her arms from around Zeus. She looked at him serenely and said, “Maybe what I heard is true.”
“What?! What is it?! What did your hear, woman?!?!”
“Now calm down darling. I’m sure it’s just a rumor. But I overheard some Christians talking about their leader, the Pope, naming December 25th the official birthday of Christ.”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Zeus jumped out of bed, now in his human-like form, threw on his toga and headed for the door.
“Where are you going my love?”
“I’m going to make sure that these humans never forget that Saturn is the reason for the season!”
Zeus stormed down the street with a mission – he was going to burn every fir tree in every home in all of Rome. People had been cutting down evergreen trees and placing them in their homes for hundreds of years, as the one tree that remained green throughout the winter it symbolized fertility. Of course it only survived in your home if the family goat didn’t drink all the water from the bowl the tree was placed in.
It did not take the master of the gods very long to zap all of the fir trees in the land. When he was finished he hid in one of the local homes to see the anguish of the people who had just lost their evergreen tree.

“Wife! Will you please come here and tell me what has happened to our beautiful evergreen tree?”
“It appears to be on fire dear husband.”
“Actually, my love, it appears that all of those wax decorations you placed on the tree are now on fire. And I must say it is quite lovely. It’s as if the tree was sparkling.”
“Yes husband. It is beautiful. I think we should put lights on the tree every year.”
“I agree honey. Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas to you my love!”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

That last scream resonated through the land and the oceans, waking one of Zeus’ brothers – Poseidon (or Neptune, take your pick.) “My brother! What is it that disturbs you so?”
Zeus turned to see Poseidon stroking his grey beard with one hand and holding his trident in the other. “Oh little brother. It is good to see you. I think I need your help. These humans are losing the meaning of Saturnalia. They are replacing all of our wonderful traditions with new ones about a guy named Christ. And when I tried to punish them, I only made things worse.”
“Yes. I saw the Christmas trees. They really are quite nice.”
“POSEIDON!”
“I’m sorry brother, forgive me. But I have always found water to be more damaging than fire. Let me give it a try.” Poseidon raised his trident in the air and said a few words in Latin. Suddenly, in every home in all of Rome a gush of water swept through all of the living rooms.

“Wife! Wife! Come here quickly. Our home is being flooded.”
“Oh dear husband what are we to do?”
“Well it doesn’t seem to be too bad. The Yule log is still burning in the hearth. It just needs to be stoked a bit. First I need to take off these stockings and hang them from the mantle to dry.”
“Oh husband, look at all of our Christmas presents. The wrapping paper is soaked.”
“Not to worry my dear. Just put the gifts in my stockings here and they will dry out as well.”
“That’s a lovely idea husband. Perhaps that is where we should always put our gifts. That way we don’t have to worry about them getting damaged.”
“I agree wife. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you my dear.”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Poseidon! Look what you have done! You made things worse!”
“I’m sorry brother but I was only trying to help.”
Suddenly a blast of fire appeared next to the two gods. When the smoke cleared, their brother Hades (or Pluto) appeared before them. “Hello boys what are you up to?”
“Oh are we glad to see you brother. I have been trying to keep alive the spirit of Saturnalia by squelching this new ‘Christmas’ idea.”
“Yes, yes. I have been watching from the underworld. Of course it was all in black and white but that’s the price I pay. Anyway, if you two are done bungling everything I have a pretty good idea. You may not know this but the only food we allow the dead to eat in the underworld is fruitcake.”
“Eeeeewwwwww!”
“My thoughts exactly. I have a staff of skeletons in hairnets making the stuff 24 hours a day. We’ve got enough stored up to get us through the next three plagues. So I was thinking that maybe we should share some of wealth. Let’s fill every kitchen in all of Rome with fruitcakes!”
“Hades! What a great idea. If that doesn’t kill their Christmas spirit nothing will.”
Hades snapped his finger, creating a spark and filling Roman kitchens with fruitcakes.

“Husband! Come here quick!”
“What is it my dear?”
“Oh wonderful husband, the gods have blessed us with fruitcakes!”
“Eeeeewwwwww! You call that a blessing?”
“Well husband, I thought we could use them to make a nice path from the road to our house for the Carolers. And then with whatever we have left over we give as presents for Christmas.”
“That’s a wonderful idea wife. We never know what to get your mother. And I’ll think I’ll give one to my boss. He should have never given Cocytus that promotion. I’m a much better shepherd.”
“Oh don’t worry dear. You’ll get the next promotion. Besides we only need each other to have a Merry Christmas.”
“You’re right wife. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you my love.”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Oh I am sorry Zeus. If these humans can have a Merry Christmas with fruitcakes than I think we may be doomed.”
“Hades is right brother. I tried to ruin their presents you tried to burn down their trees. What else can we do?”
“I’ll tell you what we are going to do. We will summon Dionysus to bring us his best wine. We will call on Demeter to provide us with plenty of roast beast to eat. We will ask Aphrodite to give us her most beautiful women. We’re going to have the best damn office party this world will ever know! And we won’t be inviting any Christians!”

The Christmas Pig

2005-12-13T10:37:00.000-05:00

Finding the perfect Christmas present for a person can often be quite difficult. No matter how well you may think you know someone, hours and days can be spent in malls and on-line trying to get just the right gift. Sometimes the problem is you know the person too well and you constantly out-think yourself (“No, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t need another blue thong.”) Other times you find yourself trying to find something better than the present you have given in the past (“You see, it’s Chia Shaggy. He goes with the Chia Scooby I got you last year. It’s a set!”) And still other times there is a great lack of communication (“Oh…you wanted two front teeth.”) The worst person to shop for is the one you really don’t want to buy a present for, but need to (“It’s not just a fish – it turns its head and sings!”) But on a few occasions in life, I have managed to come up with a good gift.

My girlfriend in high school liked pigs. Wait a minute, that sounds like I’m a…No, let me explain. Some people, normally young girls, collect ‘cute’ things. Panda bears, kittens maybe even frogs. Well, my girlfriend liked pigs. She had little pig stuffed animals and a sweatshirt or two with an iron-on pig. And when I could, I would make sure I got a birthday card with a pig on it (C’mon – Hallmark has everything!) When my father found out that she liked pigs he suggested that we give her one for Christmas.

“What do you mean Dad? Like a Guinea Pig or something?”
“No I mean a full blown, born-on-a-farm pig. Long after she’s forgotten about you, she’ll never forget the year she got a pig for Christmas.”
“Well, where are you going to get a pig?”
“Don’t worry about it son. I’ll take care of it.”

On Christmas Eve I went to work with my father and lo and behold, down in the basement of the offices was a small cage holding a little pink pig. It turns out that one of the women who worked for my father had parents who owned a farm. And it just so happened that one of their sows had given birth in early December. The pig was old enough to no longer need its mom but small enough to still hold on your lap.

That evening I picked up my girlfriend and we headed back to my house to go to mass with my family. I told her we needed to enter through the front door, an unusual thing in my home. I knew she was suspicious, but it didn’t last long. As she turned the corner toward the kitchen my dad entered the house from the garage carrying the pig with a big red ribbon around its neck. There was screaming, laughter, shock, more screaming, more laughter and more shock. It is really quite impossible to explain the joy of my girlfriend receiving a pig for Christmas.

The story could end there. I figured out the perfect gift, got it and gave to my girlfriend who was ecstatic upon receiving it. But this wasn’t exactly a typical Christmas present. This was a lot more than a box of ribbon candy. This was a living creature that had a mind of its own. The real fun began when we got back from mass later that evening. We had put the pig in its cage and left him in the garage. But when we returned a few hours later there was no sign of a pig anywhere. It had broken out of its cage and escaped through the cat-door. So we headed out into the neighborhood, on that mild Christmas Eve and began the search for our runaway pig. We first came across a couple leaving our neighbor’s house.

“Excuse us. This may sound strange, but have you seen a pig?” The two turned and stared at each other for a few seconds before they both bursted out in laughter. Eventually the woman yelled, “I told you! I told you it was a pig! You said I was crazy and senile. That it couldn’t be a pig! It had to be a dog. But it wasn’t a dog. It was a pig! It was a pig!”
We couldn’t believe it. “You saw the pig? Where? Where was it?”
The woman replied, “It was up the street when we pulled into the neighborhood. But that was a couple of hours ago.” And then a little bit of fear set in. We lived in a pretty quiet neighborhood, but a pig would not have to travel far to find some busy streets. Just when I thought I had the perfect gift – a Christmas Pig – it looked like everything would be ruined by Pig Roadkill.

“Jimmie! Come here quick!” It was mom and we headed back to the house. “I just got a phone call from Mrs. Heil. They have the pig!” Dr. and Mrs. Heil lived across the street in the middle of the woods. Dr. Heil was our family doctor. “She said that she knew it had to be us who lost a pig because no one else in the neighborhood would be crazy enough to have one in the first place. Her grandkids have been playing with it all night. Go ahead over and get it.”

And so Christmas and the Christmas Pig were both saved. It lived the next few weeks splitting time between my girlfriend’s garage and basement. We had a lot of fun with the pig but the novelty wore off and eventually we sent it back to the farm where I am sure it lived a happy life.

Actually, come back in a few months and I’ll tell you about the delicious ham we had for Easter.

Hanging Around the Tree

2005-12-09T15:33:00.000-05:00

“Hey Bill! It’s me Frank. Boy is it good to see you. Looks like we’ll be neighbors this year!”
“Yeah Frank. It should be a good Christmas.”

Bill and Frank are about six inches apart, hanging just below the midpoint of the tree. Bill is a silver fish with green fins and gold trim. His hook comes right out of his dorsal fin. Frank is a snowman – or at least the head of a snowman. He has a red hat, a blue scarf and a gold pipe. Many people would like to think Frank should be called Frosty. But there are eight or nine snowpeople on this tree and they all have their own names. Calling them Frosty is like calling your waitress ‘darling.’

“So Bill how was your hibernation? I was stuck near the Peanuts gang and that damn Lucy didn’t shut up the whole eleven months.”
“I know what you mean. A few years back I was packed next to a goose with a French horn. But this past time I had it real nice. I was all wrapped up in tissue paper and didn’t hear a peep from anyone. I’m pretty sure I was sitting at the top of the box too. It was real comfy and cozy.”
“Wow that sounds nice. Hey! Did you notice we’re still on the front of the tree?”

It’s a known tradition, almost a law really, that only the best of the ornaments get to hang on the front of the tree. The back, or the ‘Ghetto’ as the ornaments liked to call it, is reserved for decorations that are old or broken. Or maybe the ones that were ugly to begin with and never really deserved to be in front. And the ornaments that your crazy great-aunt made at the Senior Center – they go in the Ghetto too. Like the goose with the French horn.

“Yeah, we sure are lucky Bill. But I think times are changing. Did you see who’s hangin’ right above you? Wolverine!”
“Oh come on Frank. He’s not so bad. And he cleans up pretty well for a mutant.”
“But it’s just a bigger part of the problem. You’re a fish, I’m a snowman, there are 12 different Santa’s and I don’t know how many Snoopy’s. But that’s all Christmas stuff. What does a comic book character have to do with the birth of Christ? Besides I bet there isn’t even an Angel at the top of the tree again.”
“Are we going to have that same argument again Frank. Do I have to remind you that there was no Angel in Bethlehem when Jesus was born. At least not according to the Bible. Remember, the Angel Gabriel was only there for the good part – you know, with Mary.”
“Just stop right there Bill. I don’t want to hear any more. There just needs to be an Angel on the top of the tree. It’s tradition.”
“Well Frank maybe there is. Let’s ask around to find out if anyone can see the top. Junior is just above your head there. I'll see what he knows.”
“Oooh, which one, Ripken or Griffey?”
“It looks like Cal – I'll get you an autograph.”

Cal Ripken Jr. is one of the larger ornaments on the tree. He’s about six inches tall and in a pose like he just threw a baseball. He’s wearing his home (white) Orioles uniform.

“Hey Ripken! It’s me Bill! The Fish! Hey do you know if there’s an Angel at the top of the tree this year?”
“I haven’t seen the top. But I’ve been hanging on this tree for 14 years and I haven’t missed a day. And there’s never been an Angel on top. But I’ll ask around for you. Hey Charlie Brown. Yeah, you makin’ the snowman. Can you see what’s on top of the tree?"

Charlie Brown may be the second most popular ornament on the tree. His dog, of course, ranks first. At last count there was no fewer than five Charlie Brown ornaments on this tree. And a few more still in the box. This particular Charlie Brown is making a snowman that looks a lot like himself – a bald head and a goofy grin.

“Oh Good Grief. Well…I…um…I…uh…I…I’m not sure.”
“Well do think you could ask somebody that might be sure. Like that penguin over there.”
“Okay Mr. Ripken. I…um…I’ll ask him. Excuse Mr. Penguin. Can you tell me what’s on top of our Christmas Tree?”

Traditionally there is no reason as to why penguins would be on a Christmas tree. But this tree has a few. Penguins of course live in cold environments like the North Pole so it must be an easy association. These Penguins don’t mind living on a tree – it’s better than being eaten by a polar bear.

“Well I cannot see for myself. There is a large Christmas pickle in my view. Actually, I don’t believe it to be a pickle at all. I really think it is a cucumber pretending to be a Christmas pickle. And that is not at all good.”
“Oh Good Grief. Well…Mr. Penguin…do you think maybe you could ask someone else what’s on top of the Christmas Tree?”
“I suppose so. Hello there. You, yes, you the lizard with the Santa cap. Can you tell me what, if anything, resides upon the top of this structure?”

The lizard with the Santa cap is not quite a lizard – he is a gecko. His name is Sam and he is not happy about being on a Christmas tree. Not because he misses the tropical weather. And not because this tree really isn't even a tree (it’s artificial.) Sam has been upset ever since his brother made it big in the insurance business. “Are you kidding me! You want me to tell you what’s at the top of the tree. Well, I oughtta….”

“Please Mr. Lizard, there is no need to be rude. We are just trying to answer a very important question. Now please, could you tell me what rests at the top of this tree. Is it an Angel? Or perhaps a star?”
“No it ain’t no Angel. And it ain’t really a star. It’s kind of a Santa Claus in the shape of a star. Are ya happy now?”
“Yes quite. Thank you very much and Merry Christmas.”
“What did he say Mr. Penguin? Do you know what’s on the top of our Christmas Tree?”
“Yes Charles – it is not an Angel. It is a Star of Santa.”
“Hey Mr. Ripken! It’s no Angel. It’s a star.”
“Hey Bill. On top of the tree, you won’t believe it. It’s a Snow Angel with a Star.”
“Did you hear that Frank. There is an angel at the top of the tree.”
Hearing the news, Frank’s little snow heart warmed with delight.

Toolspeed's Special Place

2005-12-04T21:27:00.000-05:00

Yes, Turkeys Can Fly

2005-11-23T21:34:00.000-05:00

"I swear as god as my witness, I thought Turkeys could fly."
- Arthur Carlson, WKRP in Cincinnati

Wild turkeys are able to fly. They never get very far off the ground and when they do, they are normally shot down by some guy wearing orange camoflauge. But that doesn't mean the birds should be dropped out of a helicopter.

"My god the birds are dropping to the ground like wet bags of cement."
- Les Nesman, WKRP in Cincinnati

There is little doubt that that particular episode of WKRP may be the funniest in the history of television. I don't just mean the funniest episode of WKRP - I mean the funniest of all shows. Better than Lucy and Ethel at the chocolate factory. Better than Seinfeld and his friends masturbating. Better than anything Homer ever did. Or Barney Fife or Gilligan or Hawkeye or Norm. Prove me wrong.

I swear, as god as my witness, that while typing this the theme song for WKRP popped up and is playing right now. "Baby, if you've ever wondered..." I have over 1000 songs in this random cycle and that theme song comes up? That's proof that the WKRP Thanksgiving Episode is the greatest half hour of TV ever.

Chick thinks the best WKRP episode was when Johnny and Venus were drinking on air with the cop to prove that alcohol impairs your senses. But what does she know? She also likes to watch people change other peoples living roooms. When did they jump the shark in Trading Spaces?

Otis Friday - Part I

2005-11-04T21:17:00.000-05:00

A Novel Idea

This entry may be the only rational, reasonable and akjfhkasdfhkjdfh one tonight. Don't beleive me? Just check out the next few posts. But wait - read this crap first!

Call me Otis. Some years ago - never mind how long precisley - having little or no money in my purse, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. Which is precisley how I ended up in a hot tub in Denver with a woman whose name began with the letter 'S'. Sandy? Sally? Slutty? She-Ra? Strap-on? Salamander? I'm not sure.

If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth. Let's just say I could give a lecture on use of the whip amongst a small group of children.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the age of aquarius, it was the season in the sun, it was what the devil made me do, it was the stairway to heaven.

He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. But he had been playing the Monopoly game at McDonalds and he had won 6 small drinks, 4 medium fries and 2 hamburgers. He only wished now that he had won cheeseburgers for Santiago.

I first met Dean not long after my wife and I split up. I had just gotten over a serious illness that I won't bother to talk about, except that it had something to do with the miserably weary split-up and my feeling that everything was dead. But someone sent me a bouquet of peonies and 'Oh Boy!' am I happy now!

When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow. When it healed, and Jem's fears of never being able to play football were assuaged, he was seldom self-conscious about his injury. But yet he was never able to stiff-arm the defense and become a top-round draft pick. He mired as a back-up in the NFL and was scarcely seen on fantasy teams.

The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which. Luckily, everyone knew it was duck season and not rabbit season. And the gunfire began. Poor Daffy.

Otis Friday - Part II

2005-11-04T20:51:00.000-05:00

'Tis the Season

Would you say that the Halloween season is too short? I would. As for Thanksgiving, well I could do without the entire holiday. Except for a few football games, there is nothing special about Turkey Day. It really only serves as a kick-off to Christmas.

Many would argue that the Christmas season is too long and I would agree. Just last weekend while searching for the final touches to our Halloween costumes, we were thwarted by Christmas displays. Look, no one celebrates the Holidays in October. And not even in November. But I am willing to give the entire month of December to Yuletide Greetings.

This year promises to be one of the best Christmases ever for me. First of all, I don't have to work. In years past I have found myself glazing hams until St. Nick wiggles his nose. In the past I have put off shopping until the last minute not because I was lazy - but I was just too busy to get to the mall. But now I have the freedom to celebrate the Holiday Season the way I truly want. And I can buy all kinds of toys for Mo. Yeah, she needs an X-Box.

And don't forget about the holiday songs! I can't wait to be singing 'Walking in some Womens Underwear' again. Maybe I should add that to the Karaoke list?

Otis Friday - Part III

2005-11-04T20:21:00.000-05:00

Top Ten Karaoke Songs

I have never participated in a Karaoke. I really don't have a desire to sing a song, drunk in front of a bunch of other drunk people. But if I ever did, here is the list of songs I would be willing to sing:

10 - Tequila!
9 - It's the End of the World as We Know It - REM
8 - Her Majesty - The Beatles
7 - 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall
6 - Bear Necessities - Baloo
5 - Perfect Harmony - the Coca-Cola Song
4 - Great Gig in the Sky - Pink Floyd
3 - Would You be My Neighbor - Fred Rogers
2 - Jessica - The Allman Brothers
1 - Fame - Irene Cara

Otis Friday - Part IV

2005-11-04T18:25:00.000-05:00

The good and the Bad

The Beatles coming through the headphones doesn't stand a chance against a mother and baby screaming in their play. 'Scream' really isn't the right word. Maybe 'screech', or just very high pitched laughter. Those sounds make any and all music pointless. It is best to take off the headphones, sit back, drink your beer and glow in the happiness of your family.

Enjoy the moment while you can. Before you know it your wife will be comparing your daughter's hiccups, farts and drool with the time you got drunk on Vodka Collins and passed out on a park bench.

Church

2005-10-23T22:52:00.000-04:00

Here it is, Sunday night. Did everyone go to church today? I'm celebrating my only little mass right now. I know I haven't written anything in quite a while so I'm just going to push through this. It's like telling the priest the last time you went to confession was when your teacher forced you to go in the eighth grade. Just make something up and go with it. So here it is.

The world, of course, is coming to an end. We have just set the record for the most hurricanes in one season. (WE?) There have been major earthquakes around the globe. As well as a few typhoons. And it's snowing in Kenya. Okay, I made that up. But we are very naive to think that we understand anything about this planet. It has been around for 4.5 billion years. We have been keeping track of the weather for a few hundred of them. And we really haven't even done a good job at that.

And if there was a major asteroid heading towards our planet, wouldn't you just assume the governement or whoever didn't tell us? Unless of course Bruce Willis can save us.

Which version of "Little Wing" do you prefer? Jimi Hendrix? Stevie Ray Vaugh? Sting?

I really don't want to get into politics in the Garden, but I swear Tom Delay once tried to sell me a used car. I was just walking through Dallas, minding my own business and he came up to me shouting about a deal bigger than Texas. He was going to put me into a 1995 Ford Taurus for just $3995. And it had low mileage. When I told him that I already had a car he tried to sell me insurance on it. Maybe it wasn't actually Tom Delay, but it looked a lot like him.

If I told you I was going to post a new entry every day this week, would you come back? What if I promised not to include pitcures of Gumball Machines? Or, what if I promised to include better pictures of gumball machines? Imagine the different things you could buy from a gumball machine. Hershey Bars. Filet Mignon. Carrots. Mice. Calculators. Light bulbs. Gold teeth. Wigs. Deodorant. Pantaloons. Facial Tissues. Self esteem.

The wives in my neighborhood are desperate and they look like it. But they don't look like Desperate Housewives.

I am most disappointed in myself for not continuing to update Circling Buzzards. On their birthday I try to present a little bio for the people we have chosen to die. This month I've missed Margaret Thatcher and Lee Iacocca. I just noticed that Scott Peterson turns 33 on Monday. I think I'll skip that low-life son of a bitch too.

Well that's it for the Garden tonight. I know some of you are disappointed by the lack of plantings in the Garden. But remember that all we have here is weeds.

Life Without Gumballs

2005-09-27T20:05:00.000-04:00

Jack the cat wouldn't fit and the machine is not water tight so the goldfish were spared. I was going to fill it with money but Chick doesn't give me much cash anymore. I wonder why?

Exodus

2005-09-16T07:35:00.000-04:00

WAKE UP! What time is it? 3:38. Man is it raining hard. I guess they said it would rain overnight but it's really coming down hard. Wait, did I shut the garage door? I took the dogs in when they were bugging me. Frickin'Queenie barks once and the whole neighborhood erupts. I took the dogs in through the garage and went back out through the front door. Sat on the porch for a while.....went in once or twice......yeah, I left the garage open. I did it to remind me to take out the garbage. SHIT! I forgot to take out the garbage. Well I might as well go do it.

"Where are you going?"
"I forgot to take out the garbage and I think I left the garage door open."
"Well you might want to put on some pants."

Yeah pants are a good idea. And I may as well get the garbage in the kitchen. Hell, at this point I may as well change the cat litter. Screw him - it's the middle of the night. Yeah, I left the garage open. Maybe if we're lucky someone stole the crap we never use. Man is it raining hard. This would have really sucked at the last house. Oh well let's just grab the can and do it.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah"

Wow! It's like a chorus of Angels. I stepped out and it's barely raining at all. I swear it was pouring just a few seconds ago. And then it stopped - just for me. It's like a Moses thing. Of course my feet are cold and wet - shoes would have been a good move. But who cares? I'm barely getting rained on. This is too wierd. So much for making fun of Intellegent Design. Nah, that's still bullshit. Let's just go back to bed.

ScanTron Quiz

2005-09-13T10:52:00.000-04:00

Answer the following questions by writing down the most appropiate response on a piece of paper you may have nearby. You do not need to use a No. 2 pencil and there are no circles to fill in completely. Good luck.

1) Which of the Beatles was the most important?
a) John
b) Paul
c) George
d) Ringo

2) Who was the best President of the United States?
a) George Washington
b) Abraham Lincoln
c) Theodore Roosevelt
d) Franklin Roosevelt

3) Who best portrayed Catwoman?
a) Eartha Kitt
b) Lee Meriwether
c) Michelle Pfeiffer
d) Halle Berry

4) What is the cutest thing a baby does?
a) Smile
b) Blow Bubbles
c) Hold your finger
d) Yawn

5) Who will win the Circling Buzzards Death Pool?
a) Greg
b) Dave
c) Izzy
d) Jim

6) Which book should be banned?
a) The Origin of Species
b) Das Kapital
c) Catcher in the Rye
d) On The Road

7) What is your favorite color?
a) Blue
b) Yellow
c) Green
d) Red

Answers:

1) All of the Beatles were equally important to the makeup of the band. Yes, Ringo and George were just as crucial as John and Paul. Don't think so? Ask Pete Best - he's the guy Ringo replaced. You get a point as long as you agree that Yoko broke up the band.

2) Although so-called historians continually release rankings for all of the men who have served as President, is there really a need for a number one? This isn't college football, and they can't figure that out either. The four men listed here were all extremely important to the shaping of our country. You get a point as long as you weren't expecting to see Ronald Reagan on the list.

3) All of the actresses that played Catwoman were hot. If you had a chance to spend the night with any of them you should do it. Batman did. Besides, Catwoman has to be taken for what she is - a super criminal whose only ability is to throw Batman off of his game by giving him a chub. Give yourself a point if you have not seen the movie Catwoman featuring Halle Berry.

4) Everything a baby does is cute. Well, almost everything. I guess I could do with out the dirty diapers, spit-up and 100 decibal screams but the good outweighs the bad. Give yourself a point if you held a baby today.

5) It's a close race in this year's death pool. But it's really impossible to tell who may win. Sure some people are older and sicker than others but there is no way of figuring out who's going to actually die. Of course, three of the top four picks aren't with us anymore. Give yourself a point if you visit the Circling Buzzards.

6) Banning books! Are you serious!?!? There is no banning of books, I don't care what they say. As an intellgent society we read books, discuss them rationally and agree to disagree. Hitler banned books. Chairman Mao banned books. Saddam Hussein banned books. You want to hook up with those guys? Give yourself a point if you were completely outraged at the thought of banning a book.

7) Hopefully your favorite color isn't listed here. But why are you wasting your time reading a ridiculous Blog when you could be watching a Monty Python movie? Give yourself a point if you picked blue, no yellow - aaaaaaaaaagh!

You can add up your score if you like but the only way to get a passing grade on this test was to skip the questions and follow the ABACAB or ACDC answer scheme.

Lyrical Nonsensical

2005-09-09T22:36:00.000-04:00

I was just a poor boy and my story is seldom told. In my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me speaking words of wisdom, bend over and shake your tail feather, baby. Hello, it's me. I thought about us for a long, long time. Sometimes you wake up to find you are the eyes of the world. I am the entertainer. I've played all around the world and laid all kinds of girls - just b'cause I g-g-get around. I'm not trying to cause a big sensation. I'm just wondering why I have to steal my kisses from you? They call Alabama the Crimson Tide - call me Deacon Blue. The less I seek some source for a defnitive, the closer I am to fine. Sometimes it seems like such a hard life, but there are good times around the bend. The two of us wearing raincoats, standing solo, in the sun. We're on our way home. Red hair and black leather - my favorite color scheme. We all did feel the same way, we just saw it from a different point of view. I tell you one thing, you tell me another. We walk away maybe then shake hands.

This Blog has been brought to you by:
Simon and Garfunkel
The Beatles
Ray Charles
Todd Rundgren
The Grateful Dead
The Who
Ben Harper
Steely Dan
Indigo Girls
String Cheese Incident
The Beatles (yes, again)
Richard Thompson
Bob Dylan
Blues Traveler

Tough Questions and Simple Answers

2005-09-01T14:45:00.000-04:00

Why doesn't Iraq use the U.S. Constitution?
It's a simple solution for all the problems they are having in creating a new government. We know how tough it is, it took our founding father's a couple tries. But it looks like they got it right. A nice system of checks and balances, never allowing any one section of the government to gain too much power. I'm surprised other nations that have been created in the past 200 years haven't asked for a photo-copy!

The best part about the U.S. Constitution is that it can be changed. So, if the people in Iraq don't want to allow everyone running aroung with hand guns then don't include a second ammendment. Don't want women to vote? Hey neither did we for 130 years. Just don't put it in there. Not worried about Piracy on the high seas? Forget about Section 8, Clause 10 under the first Article. Just ammend whatever you like.

The point is, we've got a good blue print - go ahead and use it!

Is hurricane Katrina part of Intellegent Design?
I'm sure it would be fairly easy to find a few people who think storms are the wrath of a god. Pat Robertson comes to mind, but I'm saving him for later. Think about it though. The latest hurricane destoyed one of the most sin-filled areas of the United States. Along with countless homes, hospitals and schools, there have been numerous brothels, gay-bars and crack-houses destroyed in New Orleans. And it was if the storm was thinking, 'hey, I got rid of the Big Easy, I think I'll head for the casinos in Biloxi."

It's a sad day for Darwinists, scientists and, well, educated people everywhere.

Will Terrel Owens ever speak again?
For those of you that don't follow sports, Owens, or T.O., is the superstar Wide Receiver for the Eagles. Before last season he signed a 7-year, $49 million contract. But he had a good year so he wants a bigger deal. He was so disruptive in camp that he was sent home for a week. Now, he isn't disruptive at all. As a matter of fact he doesn't talk to anyone. Not his quarterback, not his coach and maybe not even opposing defenders. There was a recent article stating he did however talk to one of his coaches on the phone after he scored a touchdown last week.

Why am I telling you this? I don't know. I was just wondering if anyone really cares whether or not a millionaire athlete talks to anybody ever again?

How does one become a member of the 700 Club?
In a recent television broadcast Pat Robertson called on our President to assasinate Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez. Apparently he is not happy with Venezuelan control of oil in the world. At least that's a pretty good reason to ignore the whole "thou shalt not kill" thing. But I was wondering how people become a member of his 'Club'? Do you have to knock-off a head of state as initiation? Or maybe just break any commandment of your choice? If that's the case I'm not interested in joining.

My Sam's Club membership is as much evil as I can put up with.

Viernes con Otis

2005-08-19T19:14:00.000-04:00

Does everyone spend their evenings on-line? I do most of the time and tonight will be no exception. I am particularly heavy into sports this evening but I have a few other tidbits to share. By the way, HD TV is awesome. I'm currently watching a baseball game on HD and waiting for two different pre-season football games to start. All in HD. If I was paying $5 for a beer I would think that I'm sitting in the stadium. Instead, I have a 30-pack of Miller High Life and a flat screen on the wall.

Just before 7:00 I made a few bets that we're going to track through the evening. I've got the Mets and the Nationals under 7, the Indians and Orioles over 9 and the Pirates and Phils under 9. I've been making bets on-line for a few months. I primarily bet on baseball but I won a few bucks on Tiger Woods over the weekend. The things that you can bet on are incredible. I can bet on who will have more hits and runs between Edgar Renteria and Chone Figgins. I can bet the Bengals and Redskins will score more than 38 in tonight's preseason game. Or I can bet who will win the Emmy for Best Actress - my vote goes to Teri Hatcher.

As of 7:43 the Mets and Nationals are tied 0-0. The Indians and Orioles are tied 0-0. And the Pirates are beating the Phils 4-0.

If you are looking for something to do tomorrow you could attend the funeral of Hunter S. Thompson. The writer, who committed suicide this past February, will have his remains shot off with fireworks in Colorado. His ashes are expected to rest on his property referred to as "psychic anchor." There will also be many drinks served at a specially made bar said to resemble a "lounge atmosphere." The entire event is being paid for by actor Johnny Depp who portrayed Thompson in the movie Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.

The Rolling Stones are hitting the road again. I got to see them live about 15 years ago when I thought it would be my last chance to catch the veteran rockers. If you still haven't seen them, don't worry about it. You can save 100 bucks by getting your uncle Mortimer drunk on whiskey, handing him a guitar and telling him to walk around like a chicken. Oh yeah, don't forget the cigarette hanging from his mouth.

An NFL Newborn Set that includes a onesie, bib and footies only costs $20. If I win all 3 bets tonight I think I'll buy it. But I'm not sure what team to get. Chargers? Steelers? Bengals? Patriots?

UPDATE: Mets 0, Nationals 0 - Orioles 1, Indians 1 - Pirates 6, Phillies 1

You may know that for the past few years Snoop Dogg has been coaching his sons' little league football team. This year, he is managing an entire league. He lowered the typical cost of joining a league from $175 to $100 per player. That money covers equipment. He has also established the 'Snooperbowl' - a game played the day before the Superbowl. "It's so easy for a kid to join a gang, to do drugs," Snoop said. "We should make it that easy to be involved in football and academics." Although I am sure I could find something funny in all this, I'm really just impressed. I think this country could use more people like Snoop Dogg. No, really!

Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem Band are very underrated.

According to a study by scientist in Scottland, redheads can tolerate more pain. Apparently a study involving redheaded mice (wouldn't that be red-bodied?) showed that the animals with red hair were able to withstand higher pain thresholds. But, this was only true of the females. So redheaded women can put up with more shit. If that's true, can you imagine what Desi did to get dumped by Lucy? Or who?

The Pirates just went up 10 to 1 on the Phillies. The pitcher hit a Home Run. Damn! That's one loss. So much for Morgan's cheerleading outfit. In the meantime the Mets beat the Nationals 1-0 and the Indians and Oriols are tied at 4. That's a win and at least a push. I'll end up down a buck or up 3. Either way, I don't think I'll be making my fortune in on-line gambling.

No More Crap

2005-08-17T22:02:00.000-04:00

Isn't that better than visiting the site every day and seeing Feces?

Feces

2005-08-10T12:09:00.000-04:00

I deal with a lot of crap everyday. I don't mean that figuratively. I don't have an unruly boss to deal with. I don't have a moronic job to trudge through for eight hours. I stay at home to take care of my daughter, along with a few pets. So, I actually have to deal with crap. Poop. Shit. Caca. Doody. Tootsie Rolls in your shorts.

Morgan is currently between 'stages' in diapers. A number 1 is sometimes too small to hold a healthy movement. But the number 2 is often not on very tight and sometimes we get a 'leg-runner'. Yesterday she turned a blue jumper into a shade of green resembling spoiled olives. And by the way, if formula has such an extreme effect on her poop, should she really be eating it? What's that stuff doing to her stomach?!?!

When Chick and I first got Jack, the cat, we made a deal - I feed him every morning and she changes the cat litter once a week. Yeah, I was pretty happy with the deal. But since she got pregnant I have been changing the litter. Apparently there is some theory about pregnant women coming into contact with cat shit. I think Oprah made it up one day just to give women one more thing to nag their husband about. Anyway, the pregnancy is long over and yet I'm still on litter duty. I think I need a new deal.

The Anole died the other day. All I can say is that a lizards funeral is much less glamorous than that of a hermit crab. Anyway, the frog, Little Guy, has the entire terrarium to himself. I'm about to clean it out just to determine how much poop one little frog creates. You wouldn't think it would be much - he only eats crickets. And why does he have to poop on the glass walls? I think he likes to see how many poops it takes before he can't see out anymore.

During my daily constitutionals I play Yahtzee. No, I'm not throwing dice in the bathroom sink. It's an electric, hand-held game. I play one throw of the dice then score it. That takes about 13 rolls and I usually manage to score around 120. I play ten times and shoot for 1300. Unlees I had Mexican for dinner. Then I have a shot at 3000.

I have to mow the lawn. My damn neighbor mowed yesterday and it's making me look bad. Of course before getting out the mower I need to get out the scooper and bucket. Believe it or not I can tell which pile of dog shit was King's and which was Queen's. King's shit is very large and long while Queenie shits little golf balls. If you think that's ridiculous then think about how they tell each other apart.

By the way, if you found any of that to be interesting, you may be constipated.