2005 in Review

1. What did you do in 2005 that you'd never done before? I made a baby.
2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year? I’ve never made a New Year’s Resolution. I’m gonna this year, though.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth? Two of my wife’s cousins had their first babies. We’re up next.
4. Did anyone close to you die? No.
5. What countries did you visit? None.
6. What would you like to have in 2006 that you lacked in 2005? I’m gonna have a baby boy.
7. What dates from 2005 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? Friday, August 5th. That’s the day we found out we were pregnant.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? I got hired and promoted twice in a 6-month span.
9. What was your biggest failure? I live the same failure every day. I will never be able to live up to the example set forth for me by my grandpa.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury? Healthy as a horse.
11. What was the best thing you bought? Fertility shots.
12. Whose behavior merited celebration? My mother-in-law. At some point this year, she finally crossed over into the light and declared (at least to my wife and I) that’s she’s no longer a Republican and she agrees that President Bush IS evil.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? Dubya’s
14. Where did most of your money go? I’m not sure. It sure did disappear fast, though.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? Sam
16. What song will always remind you of 2005? Beautiful Boy
17. Compared to this time last year, are you: a) happier or sadder? WAY Happier b) thinner or fatter? Fatter c) richer or poorer? About the same, but looking up.
18. What do you wish you'd done more of? I wish I'd spent more time with the gang.
    
19. What do you wish you'd done less of? Procrastinating
20. How did you spend Christmas? Christmas Eve was with my family – S.A., Mom, Pop, Frog, Aunt Marie, Uncle Joe & Aunt Beck, Jake, & Sara. Christmas Day was with S.A.’s clan. Sylv & Danno, Rach & Jeff, Matt & Joe, Amy, Joe & the girls, the Scotts, more Hamps, assorted grandparents, etc.
21. Did you fall in love in 2005? Every day, over and over again
22. How many one-night stands? None
23. What was your favorite TV program? House or West Wing
24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year? No.
25. What was the best book you read? S.A. formatted and put every installation of NPR’s This I Believe series in a binder of me for Christmas. I read it, with tears streaming down my face, for hours.
26. What was your greatest musical discovery? More of a re-deiscovery really. Hooked on Classics. This time on CD.
27. What did you want and get? A good job and a pregnant wife.
28. What did you want and not get? A jeep.
29. What was your favorite film of this year? I think I went to fewer movies this year than any year since I got my driver’s license.
30. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? I don’t think I really did much. I turned 27.
31. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? Finshing up the mortgage process.
32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2005? “Sweetie? What should I wear???”
    
33. What kept you sane? Who says I’m sane?
34. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? Can’t really think of anybody offhand.
35. What political issue stirred you the most? Iraq.
36. Who did you miss? Drew, Shawna, Steve, Michelle, Jen, Kerry, Carol, & PJ
37. Who was the best new person you met? I don’t really think I met anyone new this year, but I’m closer than before with a number of people.
38. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2005: Stuff works out.
39. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:

"If not for you
My sky would fall,
Rain would gather too.
Without your love I'd be nowhere at all,
I'd be lost if not for you."
-George Harrison
“If Not for You”

Computers can do anything... including berate morons.

My company provides technical support to a local non-profit agency. Specifically, my predecessor designed a pair of MAMMOTH databases in Microsoft Access for them to track all of their operations. The databases are absolutely gigundo, so they require a certain amount of periodic maintenance.

The administrator in change of overseeing the database is basically computer illiterate. This would not be nearly as frustrating if it was not obvious that this was practiced illiteracy, cultivated for the sole purpose of providing an excuse for making ridiculous requests of the people who work on the database, namely me.

My predecessor used to get extremely frustrated because whenever she told the administrator that it was not possible to she what she wanted with their current computer setup, the administrator unfailingly responded with, "Yvonne, computers can do ANYTHING. You just have to tell them."

Yvonne, not being a confrontational person, would just bite her tongue and live with it. Or so I thought before today.

I was called to that office this morning because the administrator had managed to blow up the database. This wasn't a hug crisis, as far as I was concerned, because the database is backed up every day, so even in a worst case scenario, we could always pull the previous version off the backup tape and we'd be fine. However, it appeared to me once I looked at her machine that the problem she was encountering may be due to some sort of corruption of the macros, the small sub-programs that Yvonne had written into the original database. I decided to take a look at them and see if there was anything obvious that I could fix. What I found nearly sent me into convultions from laughing.

My former boss, always polite and well-mannered, had written custom error messages into the macros that would only show up when the administrator did something particularly hair-brained. Messages like "Wrong Button, Dummy" and "That's not the right way to do it. Duh!" were sprinkled throughout the macros. Great stuff.

I have a whole new level of respect for Yvonne, now.

Laterz.

Christmas Thank Yous

First things first-

I, again, must apologize for not writing as often as I ought. I realize that there are a certain group of folks who look forward to reading my blog and, though I question their rather alarming lack of taste in reading material, I still feel an obligation to update most often than I have the past while. Mea culpa.

I also have 1 request to send out.

Laura- If you’re reading this, could you grab my black leather jacket from your Grandpa’s front room if you visit him this week? I left it there when S.A. and I left and I can get it when I see you this weekend. Thanks a ton. (No obligation, I just thought you might be around there during the week.)

That said, today’s blog is pretty much a long thank you letter. It is, by and large, more serious than most of my blogs, so you’ll have to forgive me. If you’re looking for comedy, you should probably check back in tomorrow. I promise I’ll try to get back to normal.

• An extended and repeated Merry Christmas, Happy Chanuka, etc. to all the Poker Gang. Y’all are the biggest reason that Michigan again feels like home to me for the first time in 10 years.


• Liam- I’m happy to play surrogate dad when the situation dictates. Make sure your family knows, if they start to tease you that your friends feel a need to play that role, that I hope that my son turns out very much like you in many respects.


• Johnny & Adrian- I’m proud of you both. It’s not easy being the adults in a house full of really big kids.


• Skippy – You’re smarter than you let on. Don’t treat that like something about which you should be embarrassed. Keep following your musical dream. You’ve already shown more balls on that front than I was ever able to and I still regret that on a regular basis. DO NOT let day-to-day living take away from that. Corporate America will suck out your soul if you let it.


• Paul, Trav, Susanna, etc. – We love you all.


• Merry Christmas and a large Thank You to Kev. It’s kind of fun to be pushing 30 and to again have a “best friend”. Remember that, for all the jokes we make about your being a geeky, selfish bastard, you have an awful lot to offer. There are very few intelligent, polite, selfless people in the world. That should be a source of confidence for you, not of embarrassment.


• To the Tropic Cove Bowling Team – Thanks guys. This is the most fun I’ve even had with a team in any sport that I wasn’t coaching.


• Frog – You’re good people. You still irritate the piss out of me from time to time, but I can’t wait to watch what a great aunt you’ll be. Remember when I say I think you’re gonna be Aunt Ev that Aunt Ev was ALWAYS my favorite Aunt. I HOPE the Sam thinks you’re just like her.

• Mom & Pop- Thanks for everything this Christmas. Sorry we couldn't go to Church with you, but I think that the extra family time is way more valuable than church anway. As always you spent way too much money on us, but we certainly appreciate it.
  

• Danno & Sylv- I am incredibly blessed to have 2 sets of parents. Thank you for everything.
  

• Jeff & Matt - I now know what it would be like to have brothers. Thanks guys.
  

• Rachel - You've always been Sarah's best friend. Strangely, I'm starting to feel like you one of mine, too. Thanks.

• Joe- When that RoboSapiens learns to play baseball, let me know. Aunt Sarah & I both love you.

• To the entire Hamp Clan- Thanks for making me part of your family even when I know there are certainly times you'd probably like to deposit me in the nearest snowbank.

• Hello, Merry Christmas, and we miss you to the whole Barry Gang. Shawna, Michelle, Jen, Drew, Stev, Kerry, Dr. M, P.J., & J.K. We're stuck here in Michigan without a huge chuck of our family. Hopefully you all can make it to Michigan sometime this year once Sam's born.

And last, but certainly not least-

• Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and I Love You to S.A. You're my whole world, at least for the next 3 months or so.
  

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, etc. to everyone. I hope next year is as happy and fulfulling for all of you as this one has been for us.

Laterz

Whoohoo! 2 Days in a Row!

Interesting fact that may interest only me- Andrew Andrew pointed out that if my wife has any monogrammed stuff, she can soon give it to our son. He'll think it's just got his name on it.

Anyway, I stole a meme from Andrew Andrew. I do that quite often. Lucky you.

Name? Spike

Birthday? April 2nd. Obviously a day late.

Current location? In my office at work. Where else would I blog?

Eye Color? Blue

Hair Color? Hair? I don't need no steenkeen hair!

Height? 6 feet, 1 and 5/8 inches

Right Handed or Left Handed? Right

Your heritage? Mostly French on one side and North Irish on the other

The shoes you wore today? Scuffed up Payless "dress shoes"

Your weakness? I am indestructable. (Unless a somewhat oversized ego could somehow be interpreted as a weakness.)

Your fears? Too many to count.

Your perfect pizza? Ham & Pineapple

Goal you would like to achieve in 2006? Actually turn a profit in my golf shop.

Your most overused phrase on an instant messenger? Gotcha

First thoughts upon waking up today? Sweet. S.A.'s waking me up so I don't have to hear my g*dd*mn alarm.

Your best physical feature? My height

Your bedtime? No less than 45 minutes after S.A. goes to bed. Generally around 10:30

Your most missed memory? I miss college. It may sound cliche, but thems were some good times.

Pepsi or Coke? DIET Coke

McDonalds or Burger King? I am NOT a fast food guy. Doesn't matter what I eat. It all makes me sick.

Single or Group Dates? Single. S.A.'s not into the groups thing. ::nudge, nudge::

Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea? Lipton. (In a 20 oz bottle)

Chocolate or Vanilla? Chocolate

Cappuccino or Coffee? Prolly Cappuccino, but I'm okay with either.

Do you smoke? Hell no.

Do you swear? I'm doing my best to quit. I don't want my son to sound like me.

Do you sing? Every day. I used to sing in a band, but my stage fright was so bad I had to sing the first song with my back to the audience.

Do you shower daily? Yup.

Have you been in love? I am truly, deeply, rediculously in love. Thankfully, she's willing to put up with me, too. I suspect that may have something to do with my being the one who plows the driveway.

Do you want to go to college? Yup. I'm going be a pre-school teacher some day. At my current rate of study, that day will be in about 60 years.

Do you want to get married? Again? I don't think polygamy is for me.

Do you believe in yourself? I'm a mental mess. I have unreasonable confidence most of the time, but lately I spend way to much time worrying about screwing up the lives of everyone around me. (This whole having a kid thing is mentally kicking my ass.)

Do you get motion sickness? Only if the moving thing is a crowded elevator.

Do you think you are attractive? I know I'd do me.

Are you a health freak? Nope. I'm very health conscious, but way too lazy to really do it right.

Do you get along with your parents? Very well. (In-laws, too.)

Do you like thunderstorms? Love 'em.

Do you play an instrument? Piano and harmonica.

In the past month have you drank alcohol? Yes. I had a Woodchuck's at my sister's over Thanksgiving.

In the past month have you smoked? No

In the past month have you been on drugs? Lots of 'em. (ADD meds, antidepressants, allergy meds, etc.)

In the past month have you gone on a date? Nope. But I sit on the floor in front of my wife and talk to her belly as we watch TV most nights. That's waaaayyyy better.

In the past month have you gone to a mall? Yes. Also over Thanksgiving. I frickin' HATE the mall. And I REALLY HATE jewelry store clerks. I need a shirt that says "I'M JUST LOOKING! F**K OFF!"

In the past month have you eaten a box of Oreos? No. I don't like Oreos.

In the past month have you eaten sushi? HELL NO.

In the past month have you been on stage? Nope

In the past month have you been dumped? No

In the past month have you gone skinny dipping? I haven't been skinny dipping since I got married.

In the past month have you stolen anything? Nope.

Ever been drunk? Uh. YEAH. (I do have a college degree.)

Ever been called a tease? Yup.

Ever been beaten up? No

Ever shoplifted? Long long ago. I shoplifted baseball cards in junior high. My Dad made me take 'em back in.

How do you want to die? When I was in 3rd grade, Mike Barney and I decided that we wanted to fall into a spring-loaded trash compactor covered in spikes. I'm not into slow deaths, but I'm all about gore.

What do you want to be when you grow up? I'm not gonna grow up. I wouldn't say I'm Peter Pan, but, come to thing of it, I do seem to have my own band of Lost Boys.

What country would you most like to visit? The UK. Lots of golf and everybody speaks English.

Reports of my demise have been greatly exaggerated.

Sorry, Gang.

I just wanted to let y'all know that I am not, in fact, dead.

I know I've been shitty about updating this thing but life has been slightly insane lately.

A brief rundown of reasons for not writing-

1. I've been promoted to Director of my division at work. This may not seem like a hardship, but it's been rough. I was hired as a part-time tech trainer about 6 months ago. I was then promoted to office manager, but they didn't hire a new tech trainer so I was doing 2 jobs. Now I've been promoted to Director but we still haven't hired anyone new so I'm now doing 3 jobs and I'm going rapidly insane.

2. We're pregnant and we just found out it's a boy. Again, this is in no way a hardship, but it's taking a great deal of my mental faculties to deal with all the associated stuff on a day-to-day basis.

3. I'm a lazy bastard.

Anyway, I PROMISE I'll try to do better from now on. And on that note...

I HATE WINTER!!!!!!!

I cannot state this strongly enough. I know, you're saying, "Why the **** do you live in Michigan, then, dumbass???"

But I agreed to move back to MI (where I grew up) from Miami (where I went to college) when I got engaged. S.A. is also from Michigan and she stated, quite emphatically, that she was NOT going to live and have children in Miami. So we moved. However, days like the past couple
give me serious doubts about the wisdom of that decision.

I assume that, if you're a regular reader of S.A.'s blog, you've read a nice romantic view of the beauty of Northern Michigan under a layer of new-fallen snow. (I assume, because I haven't had time to read her blog lately.) I, on the other hand, will give you a more realistic view of things.

S.A. and I went to leave for work yesterday morning and found that, due to the 15" of snow we'd received overnight, there was absolutely no way we were going to be able to get our cars out of the driveway. I called my uncle, who lives a couple blocks away, and asked him if he could drive S.A. to work so she wouldn't be too late. He happily did so. And I went about trying to shove my driveway so I could leave.

All my life, I assumed that a paved driveway would be easier to keep clean during the winter. This is, of course, because I grew up with a long gravel driveway. The grass is always greener and all that jazz. I may have been correct. However, I did not take into account, when we moved into our house, that a paved driveway that goes dramatically uphill as it leads to the road is swiftly converted to an ice rink, from which no 2-wheel-drive car can escape, unless you are extremely diligent about plowing and salting. I'm not diligent.

More to the point, I didn't own a snow blower and the driveway is rather long, so shoveling over a foot of snow from it before work in the morning is a difficult proposition. However, as there did not seem to be any other option, I went to it.

I shoveled for about 20 minutes before I heard the sound of a tractor starting in my neighbor’s barn. I turned around and out he came, riding his John Deere. He buzzed up and down the driveway (Okay, maybe rumbled is a better term.) and signaled to me that the driveway was clear and I could now leave.

In reality, the only CLEAR part of the driveway was the layer of ice covering the pavement. I barely touch the gas and my wheels began to spin. Needless to say, I was still going nowhere. Obviously feeling pity for me, he backed his tractor up to my rear bumper, pushing the rear blade right up against my car are proceeded to push me up my driveway. Had I any pride at all, it might have been somewhat embarrassing.

By the afternoon, I had arranged to purchase a new snow blower. Unfortunately, snow blowers do not fit in the trunk of a '98 Nissan Sentra, so I also had to find someone with a vehicle to help me bring my new beast home. Since I was having significant difficulty finding anyone available before 5pm, when the store closed, I decided to attempt to use my uncle's 2-wheel-drive pickup. All of you who have tried to drive a 2-wheel-drive up a steep, extremely icy hill say it with me now.

Bloody moron.

I succeeded in fishtailing the truck ridiculously close to the front door of my house and only stopped when I realized that 6 more inches and I going to be parked in our entryway. I then called my dad and begged him to stop what he was doing and help me pick up my snow blower and move the truck back where it belonged. Thankfully, he complied.

I finished blowing the driveway at about 8pm. But not until I'd gotten another of our cars stuck and un-stuck.

I HATE winter.

Laterz

FUMMMMMBBBBBLLLLLE!!!!!

It turns out there's a reason that regulation NFL footballs aren't grown in gardens.

Our friend Tim came over to play poker a few months ago. He brought us a melon. We didn't really know what kind of melon it was and Tim didn't say, but we gratefully accepted it, because Tim's our only friend who does those things and we try to set a good example for the rest of the kids who play poker with us.

The melon, however, was very dark green with orange spots on it. S.A. and I guessed it was probably something similar to a cantaloupe or a muskmelon, must it really was just a guess. Because neither of us likes any kind of melon except for watermelon, we decided we would hold on to it until we had a chance to give it to my mom, who loves melon of every sort.

So it sat on our counter for a couple months.

Somewhat amazingly, it didn't start to visibly rot in all that time. However, this weekend, when I woke up at 4:30am on Sunday with an urge to do some major house-cleaning (It's a sickness that runs in my family. Don't ask.), I decided that I would run it out to the field behind our house and drop it out there. I figured some hungry deer might eat it.

Now, for those of you who don't know me well, I'm a sort of high-energy guy. I don't normally walk places, and when I have work to do, I try to turn it into some sort of game or contest with myself in order to make the time pass more quickly and make the task more enjoyable.

Since I also had a spaghetti squash that needed to be tossed, I carried both items onto my back porch, wearing my slippers and pjs. It's about 50 yards from my back porch to the beginning of the field/swamp that's out behind the house. Tossing the squash up in the air and catching it, I decided that I could easily toss it from the porch into the field, thereby creating a fun game for myself (How far can I throw a squash?) and also removing the necessity to actually go out into by back yard in the 50mph+ wind gusts that wracked Northern Michigan on Sunday. However, having a very good knowledge of sports medicine and physiology, I knew that throwing it overhand without warming up first would probably result in some sort of injury and may even necessitate of the removal of an arm. (I'm REALLY out of shape.) Therefore, I threw it discus-style.

The throw was a success, landing 10 yards or so into the long grass, but I realized that, considering how much heavier the melon was, I might very well be unsuccessful in throwing it all the way out there. I also have some experience with what happens with melons dropped from a considerable height, so I knew I really didn't want this thing exploding all over my back yard. I've been trying to clean the yard up for winter and I knew that an exploding melon can create quite a mess.

So I decided I was gonna have to carry it out there.

My drive for fun still soundly in place, I decided to tuck the melon under my arm, running-back-style, and dodge imaginary defenders on my way through the back yard.

The first couple defenders missed me as I executed a perfect spin move around a wooden bench. I sped by another defender running straight down the field and then realized I had only one defender left to beat. With a huge gust of wind blowing me to the left, I went left, planted my slippered foot, and threw my shoulders back to the right. My upper body shot to the right...

And my feet flew out of my slippers and went left.

I went down hard, protecting the melon with both arms in front of me, as any good halfback would. It turns out there's a good reason that they don't run football practice with melons.

Considering that me primary for carrying the melon through the yard in the first place was to avoid a mess, I really had to consider my plan a failure. Landing on what turns out to be a very nice watermelon (D'oh!) resulted in my having watermelon goop all over my pj pants and t-shirt as well as in my mouth, ears, and hair. It also led to my being concerned that I may have cracked a rib on the doggone melon, as it hurt quite a bit to take a breath.

It turns out that I'm fine. No harm done. Well, excluding the melon.

-----------------------------------

1 other short note.

S.A. and I were chatting about being pregnant last night. I make a comment about "by boys" getting the job done.

She replied that it would have been nice if they'd gotten it done a bit more quickly, so we hadn't stressed for YEARS.

I replied that she should have expected that. There are MY sperm, after all, and I never do anything the first few times she asks me.

She should have given them a damn list.

I'm guessing she could have thought of a good place to put it.

Laterz.

MacDanno

I've recently discovered another major difference between men and women. Appreciation of ingenuity.

Examples-

My father-in-law is a neat guy. He's a blacksmith and a wood-worker and is always making all sorts of neat stuff. However, a couple weeks ago, he outdid himself.

We were up at S.A.'s family cabin and one of the Jeeps had a flat tire. As any logical person would do, Danno went to get his air compressor. This occasion was unique, however, because Danno's air compressor is HOME-MADE. He had taken an old propane tank and attached it to an old electric motor and a 50-year-old compressor turbine thingy ("Where does one get a 'compressor turbine thingy'?", you ask. Behind the shed, of course. Duh.) and attached them all to a wooden plank on wheels (for ease in moving). And, voila! A home-made air compressor.

Needless to say, we boys gathered around this magnificent beast expressing our awe at the skill and mental resources that one must posess in order to create such a spectactular example of human inginuity. (And, of course, taking pictures.) Danno was like MacGuyver in Santa's body.

The girls, on the other hand, stood around making jokes about "Daddy's pet compressor" and generally acting embarrassed as he pulled the compressor down the driveway by an attached string.

We boys discussed their indefensible behavior and hoped that it was a one-time occurence. Going unsaid was the common belief that this was not, in all probability, the case.

A few days later, I personally became the victim of this rediculous femine bias against ingenuity.

My wife, who is now about 4 1/2 months pregant, mentioned to me that it was almost time that the baby could begin to hear the sounds of the outside world. S.A. and I have discussed at some length the value in exposing an unborn baby to music while still inthe womb. I've even burned a couple cds specifically for that purpose.

Therefore, I went to get headphones to put on her stomach. Unfortunately, S.A. really hasn't gained any weight yet and, therefore, does not have enough of a tummy to attach the headphones to. However, since my headphone swivel, I figured I could just put them in a flattened position and attach them to her middle.

I ran to my closet and get a belt. I ran the belt through the headphones and ran back to Sarah to strap the headphones on her.

Inexplicably, she pushed me away. My wife, one of the smartest people I know, and also a person who agress with me about the importance of music early in development, would not allow me to strap the headphones around her middle because it looked silly. Now, we were alone in our bedroom. The only person who would see it would be me, and, to be honest, I've already seen her in a compromising position or two. (Remember, I've been present for a number of trans-vaginal ultrasounds.) Even the baby can't see the setup. He/she would only reap the rewards thereof.

But no. S.A. made it very clear to me that she WOULD NOT be wearing the headphones held on by a belt. If I wanted our unborn child to be able to listen to music, I was damn well gonna have to hold the headphones in place myself.

All this drama was over the fact that my setup looked a little bit unique. The brilliance of the invention, that it could be worn around the house or in bed without being concerned that they'd fall off, was completely lost to her.

Sheer silliness.

I'd love to believe that this disregard for ingenuity is unique in women sharing S.A.'s genetic makeup, but somehow I doubt it. It's a little bit depressing.

Laterz

Blog suggestion

I'm sitting her killing time and so I have just looked at technorati.com for ideas about other folks blogs that I might enjoy reading. Being a gigantic geek, I searcedh for Star Wars themed blogs. They gave me TONS of options when I used Vader and Chewbacca as search terms. Wonder of wonders, I actually found a good, funny, well-written blog. So, since I personally find that decent blogs are almost impossible to come by, here's a plug for it. Check it out.

Helldorado

How can you tell if a fish is drooling?

I'm sick.

I have a cold. And, as anyone who knows me can tell you, I don't often get sick, and therefore am not very good at it. I'm honestly a great big weenie. I moan and whine and am generally miserable. Also, I don't think very well. I assume that this is due to snot building up in the synapses in my brain.

Last night I walked to the dresser to grab my pill bottle and take take my night-time meds. Due to my compromised mental state, I accidentally picked up the fish food and, without noticing, unscrewed the cap and poured it into my hand, just as I would a pill. Thankfully, before I threw a handful of "mega marine" into my mouth, I realized what i had and carefully put it back into the cannister.

I related this story to S.A., who was standing nearby, as a humorous display of my sickness. She stated that it'd nbo big deal as it was just ocean veggies.

I replied that though it might not be life-threatening, it would be very disgusting, as it's made of ground up fish.

She was incredulous. "It is??"

I proceeded to read off the ingredients. Ground Salmon, halibut, sardines, etc.

She looked at me with an extremely perplexed look on her face.

"How come they don't get 'Mad Fish Disease'?" she asked.

Her delivery was deadpan enough that I thought she was serious. I laughed so hard I almost wet my pants.

I love my wife.

Laterz.

Ho Hum...

Random thoughts that will undoubtedly interest no-one but myself.

1. "My" secretary has 1 eye. Actually, she has 2 eyes, but only one works. They're removing the other one the day before Thanksgiving. For some reason, I can't help but feel like my life has been leading up to this.

2. I have a regular reader in California. I mean, I have folks check in from all over the country, but most of them don't show up very often. My regular readers are generally my friends in real life who have spread out all over the country. They read me because, well, they have to. Whoever reads this blog in California actually seems to care because his/her IP shows up quite often. It's a little strange.

3. While I was in college, I worked for 2 professional athletic teams. I worked in the Sports Information office at the college for 4 years. I coached 2 sports at 4 schools.

Since I graduated, more than 5 years ago, with a degree in Sport Management, my only sports employment was 1 season of JV softball at a local high school. However, in those 5 years I've worked as a video store manager, a secretary, and a computer instructor.

So that's $80,000+ well-spent tuition dollars.

4. I belong to a golf league during the summer and a bowling league the rest of the year.

I am (at least at times) a pretty decent golfer. Additionally, I don't pay for my league membership because I do some work for the golf course.

I'm a truly shitty bowler. And I pay $13 a week to bowl. That comes out to over $400 for the season.

I do not enjoy my golf league.

I LOVE my bowling league.

I don't get it, either.

It's game time!

Just got back from G.R. where we went to the Pissers first pre-season game. It was S.A.'s b-day yesterday, so this was part of her present. We attended to game with her sister Rachel and Rach's husband Jeff. Very enjoyable game, with one very minor exception.

Jeff and Rachel chipped in with us so that we could have very good seats at the game. The seats directly in front of us remained empty throughout the 1st half, but at halftime, a couple decided that those seats looked great and since they weren't being used... So they sat in front of us.

I have no problem with seat jumpers. I've done it myself at many sporting events and I do think that there's no reason to let the seats go to waste. However, I and also not a drunken asshole. This could not be said for the gentleman who sat down directly in front of me. He had so much alcohol in him that he was visibly shaking. This, however, did not prevent him from jumping up and down and screaming about things that didn't draw any reaction from the rest of the crowd. I realized that his behavior was not only irritating me, but making it impossible for S.A. to see any of the action. I decided that I needed to ask the gentleman to sit down.

This, however, required some amount of planning, because most drunks at sporting events are also belligerent, in my experience. The fact that he was obviously with a date made this possibility even more likely. Also, because we were sitting at the front of the upper deck, I was afraid that if he took a swing at me and I ended up punching him, there was a decent chance that, in his obviously balance-impaired state, he would fall over the railing. Regardless of how aggravating he was, I really didn't need to kill him.

S.A., on the other hand decided to do the more mature, if somewhat less cathartic, thing. She stood up walked over to the female usher at the top of the stairs and politely asked her to deal with the idiot in front of us. When the usher asked to see his ticket and saw that his assigned seats were ACROSS THE ARENA, she asked them to get out of her section. Fans around us applauded. The usher walked back over to S.A. and gave her arm a friendly squeeze. They were obviously sister enforcers.

Jeff, who had been pointedly ignoring the moron and concentrating on the game, leaned over and asked me what had happened. I told him that the guy had been convicted of "Drunk in front of S.A."

After that, the game went smoothly. The Pistons won and we both got a decent night's sleep at R&J's. It was a good time and, I think, a very happy birthday for S.A.

Also, just because she sometimes wishes I'd make grand-er gestures in public I offer this-

Happy Birthday S.A.
I Love You!

Laterz.

We are Turtles! Hear us roar!

I recently wrote about my bowling team. We are know far and wide as not being... well... not good. Generally speaking, we suck. However, I also said that we were improving.

I was right.

Last night the Tropic Cove Albino Turtles (so named in honor of a $250 turtle Kevin purchased this weekend at a trade show in Chicago,) won. Handily. We won all seven points. We should be the T.C. Pin Piranhas. My dad, who in this case was obviously chanelling his alter-ego Tomas, was on fire. He rolled a 490 series and basically carried us to a resounding victory.

The only down point to the evening came on what should have been a highlight for me. Starting in high school, the vast majority of the games I've bowled have been with my buddy Nate. We always made sure, however, to make sure that we had at least a couple of gals with us when we bowled. The reason for this is that we've had a long-standing rule that if either of us ever managed to roll a "turkey" (3 strikes in a row) the ladies would "flash" us. I think it almost goes without saying that the gals were never in any real danger. Over the past 10 years, both he and I had 2 consecutive strikes many, many times. However, given the pressure that we always heaped on each other when we got to that point, neither of us has ever been even close to that elusive third consective strike. It got to the point where some of our more regular bowling companions would torment us with comments about the high quality of their undergarments, because they knew it was the only way we were ever going to know anything about them.

Last night I rolled a 97 in the first game and a 120 in the second game. Both below my average, but not as far below as I'd like. The last game I spared the 9th frame and had a 122 going into the 10th. I proceeded to throw a strike. With my 2nd ball of the 10th frame, I threw another strike. Joking the whole time with my opponents, I went back to the line for my 3rd ball and, wonder of wonders, threw another strike. Even our opponents were excited and all gave my high-fives as a 10th frame turkey is rare. Especially in our league. So I finished with a 162, which is WAY above my average.

Upon returning to my team's table, I realized that somebody was supposed to flash me. I looked around but all the people around me were middle-aged men. Man boobies were NOT what I was looking for.

Aargh.

So I've been cheated. But at least we won. And now I figure somebody owes me a flash.

I hope to God my mother-in-law doesn't read this and agree with me.

Laterz

Family Photos

S.A. recently pointed out to me that I might want to put pics of the fam on my blog, since I write about them enough. So here are a few.

Princess Roxie, the day she returned home from the Hospital, sans leg. And another pic from a couple days ago. Notice she's adjusted very well to the messing leg, but she'll only allow herself to be photographed from her "good side".
This is Velma. She looks perpetually confused and has a touch of what we lovingly refer to as "runt brain", meaning that all her wires are carrying current, but some of them are definitely soldered to the wrong spot on the motherboard.
This is Elphie. She's the new baby and the only one who's not named from the musical "Chicago". (Her full name is Elphaba, from "Wicked".)

Can I go home yet?

I'm now officially at the time-killing stage of my day. I've done my 2 trainings and earned my paycheck and now I'm just killing time so I don't leave so early as to look bad. So I'm browsing other blogs and checking out the user profiles of the folks who write them.

A few notes.

There's another guy in Petoskey with a blog devoted completely to juggling.

I've read more than one profile where the author lists "weight-training" or "lifting weights" as a hobby. Not surprisingly, none of these bloggers could spell worth a damn.

Females are much more likely to write about their daily lives. Guys are more likely to rant. I don't stay long on a rant-infested blog. I don't watch Survivor, Big Brother, or any of the other popular "reality" shows. Reading blogs is my own personal form of voyeurism. I enjoy getting to feel like I know the blogger a little bit. Therefore, the only blog I read that's written by a guy is actually written by the best man from my wedding.

If you don't have a decent sense of humor, don't blog. I mean, I know there are all types of blogs and the original intent of blogging was to impart and share information, not to entertain, but still, there's nothing worse than a really DRY blog.

Alright, that's all I've got for now. I'm outta here.

Laterz.

And the shut-out is officially over!

For those of you who may not know, (which is probably most of you, because i don't really talk about it that much) I'm in a bowling league. My team consists of myself, my dad, my buddy Kev, his dad, and a 2-headed bowling monster of Mark, who teaches with my dad, and Daryl, Kev's Dad's golf partner. (They bowl on alternating weeks.) We make up the Tropic Cove... Somethings. We don't actually have a team name yet. We have a sponsor, though. Tropic Cove. We could have used Joe's, my golf shop, but there's a $40 sponsorship fee and I didn't feel like forking it over. This week, we were the Tropic Cove Rabid Canarys. Last week it was the Tropic Cove Betta Bowlers. I'm proposing the Angry Ferrets for next week. Truth be known, we should be called the Tropic Cove Spastic Invalids, because you'll seldom see an uglier display of bowling acumen.

It's a good time. I love to bowl; always have. However, I don't generally broadcast my league membership. It's not that I'm not proud of my team, it's just that, well... we suck.

Seriously, we're awful. My dad hadn't bowled more than a handful of times in the past 25 years before he joined the team. Daryl bowled last night for the 1st time in 35 years. Phil's dad hadn't bowled in over 20 years. It'd been 15 years for Mark. And Kevin and I... Well, we've bowled more recently, but we still really suck. We both fall into the "please let my score be in triple-digits" category.

Last night, however, we actually won a game! Not the match, mind you. We still got our asses handed to us for the evening. But we won a game. Officially, we have now won 2 out of a possible 28 points this season. Things are definitely looking up. My new bowling shoes will be here tomorrow. I've already picked out my new bowling ball and now just need to convince someone to buy it for me.

I feel a hot streak coming on. Also, if you know Dave the techie at C.O.P., you should probably express your condolences. It's his team we beat.

Laterz

Puh-leeeeze forgive me...

Alright, I know I'm a truly shitty blogger.

It's been so long since I wrote anything that I've started receiving nasty email from my mother-in-law berating me for my lack of diligence. The thing is, I've got an excuse! Honestly, I do.

I'm a lazy bastard.

Hey, I didn't say it was a good excuse. Basically, I havent' written in quite a while because I generally (read: ALWAYS) blog when I don't really have anything better to do at work. I don't let it get in the way of doing my job, but I've always had at least a little bit of time to kill during the day, so I blog. Unfortunately, I've recently been much busier than normal at work. Hence, no blogging. But I promise I'll do better, starting today. In fact, depending on how much time I have the next few days, I may even go back and write entries for previous days when stuff happened but I didn't bother to write about it, because that's the type of diligent, hard-working blogger I intend to be from now on. (Also, I will try not to end any more sentances with prepositions.)

Today is a big day. Sarah has officially been pregnant for more than 12 weeks now, which means we are now into the 2nd trimester. Over the course of the past 3 months, I've learned something very important about myself. The biggest reason I have cared so much about things that don't directly impact me, such as national politics, is that there really hasn't been all that much going on that DID impact me. Since we found out that Sarah was pregnant, I've almost stopped listening to NPR or Air America Radio and instead spend a great deal of time reading about pregnancy and worrying about things like debt consolidation. Today I have the unenviable task of requesting a raise from my bosses. Now, they did tell me when I hired on that I could expect a raise after 90 days, but I'm still not comfortable pressing these things. So now I have heartburn. Narf.

Anyway, wish me luck.

Laterz.

More wholy irrelevant facts about me.

1. Ten Years Ago: I had just started my senior year of high school. I lived with my folks, but not in the same building. I was actually thankful that they allowed me to live in the guest house most of the time. I didn’t realize that I was really doing them a favor by sparing them my presence. I drove a 1991 Teal Mazda Protégé that got 42 miles per gallon on a bad day, was, would go from 0 to 60 in under 6 minutes flat, and was lovingly know as “The Rice Burner”.
   
   Five Years Ago: In September of 2000, I was a newlywed living in Lansing, Michigan. I was a graduate student and teaching assistant at Michigan State University, teaching “Coaching Baseball/Softball” and “Intermediate Softball”. I also took 3 classes but I don’t remember them. I quit school after that semester. I drove a 1991 Dodge Caravan, given to me by my new Mother-In-Law, when she was unable to convince any poor sap to actually buy it from her. Though all the doors opened just fine from the inside, it only had one hatch that was useable to enter the vehicle. My students at MSU LOVED watching me climb through the rear hatch of my minivan and crawl through the vehicle up to the driver’s seat so I could spew blue smoke behind me exiting campus.
   
   One Year Ago: I was the store manager of 2 Blockbuster Video stores in Petoskey, as well as the owner of a small golf shop. I lived in a manufactured house on a very nice lot in P-town. I drove a ’98 Nissan Sentra with a number of Diversity bumper stickers on it, as well as power locks and windows. S.A. had just started a new job at the Woman’s Resource Center and we had been trying to start a family for a few months.
   
   Yesterday: I taught “Microsoft Excel: Level I” for The Learning Center. Sarah came home and craved Burger King food. Pregnancy is really strange. We don’t even LIKE Burger King… I helped dig a trench from my house to my shop so I can run gas line out to the furnace in the golf shop.
   
   Five Songs I Know All the Words To: I know every word to basically every song I’ve ever heard. That being said, I can easily perform on command-
   Rainbow Connection – Kermit the Frog
   Lodi – Creedence Clearwater Revival
   Studebaker – Jordan Zevon
   Oliver’s Army – Elvis Costello
   Crocodile Rock – Elton John
   
   Five Snacks: Edy’s Rocky Road Ice Cream, Sam’s Choice Crackers, Fresh Apples (Fresh is the key word. I don’t generally like apples from the store.), Garlic Melba Toast, Crab & Cocktail Sauce over Cream Cheese w/ Triscuits
   
   Five Things I'd Do With $100 Million: Pay off every college loan for every one of my friends; buy the 10 acres next to my parents and build a kick-ass barn-style house; build my own recording studio; give my parents whatever they figured to be able to retire TODAY; give the rest to Sylvia, because she and Danno help us out as often as my folks do and I know she’d find all sorts of great causes to give it to.
   
   Five Places I'd Run Away To: Miami, Miami, Miami, Miami, and for a change of pace, my folks house.
   
   Five Things I'd Never Wear: Anything supporting President Bush , anything supporting the republican party in general, a v-neck sweater, briefs (seriously, how do you guy in your tighty-whities stand it?), a raccoon. (Would you?)
   
   Five Favorite TV Shows: Queer as Folk, West Wing, Baseball Tonight, Any Detroit Pistons Telecast on FSN with Greg Kelser and Fred MacLeod, Celebrity Poker Showdown
   
   Five Greatest Joys: Having an Animated Discussion w/ My Wife While Driving, playing piano in the dark, napping with Roxie on my chest (even though I invariably wake up with a cold), poker with all "my kids", lying in bed with S.A. talking about all the great stuff we’re gonna do with the baby
   
   Five Favorite Toys: 3 words – SUPER MONKEY BALL. Also my Cleveland Launcher 400 Driver, Jeff’s postal Jeep (WHICH IS WHY I NEED MY OWN), Strat-O-Matic Baseball (1991 Season), my new Fire Poker from Yvonne
   
   1. What is your favorite word? Bean (Also my favorite person, hmm…)
   2. What is your least favorite word? Fidget (You hate it too, if you’d been told to stop doing it as much as I have.)
   3. What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally? The ability to make me laugh out loud.
   4. What turns you off? REPUBLICANS!!!!!
   5. What is your favorite curse word? Goddamnmutherfuckingcocksmoke… (I got this from Nate, years ago.)
   6. What sound or noise do you love? My wife snoring. (Seriously)
   7. What sound or noise do you hate? Gunshots
   8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? Professional musician
   9. What profession would you not like to do? Accountant
   10.If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? “There are some old people with funny-ass names waiting inside for you.” (Seriously, I hope God cusses like a sailor.)
   

7 things...

Stole this one from Andrew Andrew.

7 Things I Plan To Do Before I Die
___________________________________
1) Teach my kids to play baseball/softball, basketball, football, volleyball, and golf.
2) Give them the opportunity to decide that sports are a waste of time and that their time is better spent writing poetry. (And make sure they know I'll love 'em anyway.)
3) Take my son to every major league baseball stadium. (Yeah, it'd be cool with a daughter, too, but somehow, in my mind's eye...)
4) Golf in Scotland.
5) Record an album. Just me and a piano. (Okay, maybe a few friends on guitars and the like might be helpful, too.)
6) Become the President. (Of my kids' school board.)
7) Visit Prague with S.A. I may not have much of a sense of history, but it's her favorite place in the world and I truly want to share it with her.
__________________________________
7 Things I Cannot Do
__________________________________
1) Enjoy gross-out/sophmoric comedy movies. (Movies like "Wedding Crashers" and "Old School" make me want to punch people.
2) Walk more than 15 feet without "sprinkling". (This is my mom's term for whistling without enough air to really blow a note so it's just kind of airy sounding.)
3) Hear ANYTHING about our current president without becoming violently angry. I've actually stopped listening to NPR because I was afraid I was going to intentionally ram my car into an SUV at some point.
4) Keep my foot out of my mouth when regarding my wife's extended family. I actually LIKE her family, but I still manage to offend them regularly.
5) Convince myself that I do not actually NEED a Jeep. (Seriously, I am SO in need of a 12-step program.)
6) Make myself understand why appearances matter. Cars, houses, people, cribs, clothes... I'm just too logical, I guess.
7) Give up on humanity. Even time I come to terms with the idea that people in the U.S. are just not ever going to meet my standards, somebody goes and does something great and get my hopes up all over again. (My Mother-In-Law just offered up her home to any person or family who has been displaced my Hurricane Katrina. She lives in Northern Michigan but figures that if somebody makes it this far north, she'll definitely take 'em in. Kudos, Sylv. My Grandpa Beaver would be proud of you. So would Grandma Alice.)
______________________________
7 Things That Attract me to the same or opposite sex
______________________________
I'm nt goona say the cheeseball thing and put "a sense of humor", but only because it's not specific enough. Instead I'll lead off with-
1) A SHARP sense of humor. Nothing makes me laugh more than my wife shredding someone else. (I hope this doesn't make me a bad person.)
2) A flare for a witty turn-of-phrase. "Like ants on a twinkie," is one of the great similes of our time.
3) A great smile. And there is no other kind. Anyone is 100 times more attractive when they're smiling.
4) Hair. I never really knew I was a hair guy until I met my wife. Now, if I'm good, she'll let me brush her hair before bed.
5) Self-confidence. Know who you are and stand up for that person.
6) Intelligence. The ability to formulate a persuasive argument is SEXY.
7) Compassion and empathy. Nothing is more attractive than seeing that someone cares about something other than themselves.
_________________________
7 Things I Say Most Often
_________________________
1) "Bloody" I really do wish I was British.
2) "Bean" My pet name for S.A.
3) "Good grief!" I've worked really hard to curse less than I used to.
4) "Booger" Besides my obvious affinity for words beginning with "B", it's another one of those exclamations that keeps me from swearing at work.
5) "DUDE!" This one really only crops up when I'm around my friends from H.S. or college.
6)"If I was any father out on the left wing, the plane would flip over." (Describing my political views.) This first time I said this, I thought it was pretty witty. Years later, I don't find it nearly as charming. But people keep laughing at it, so I keep saying it. I'm a laugh whore.
7) "Yeesh..." I don't say this as much as I type it in email and IMs.
_______________________
7 Celebrity Crushes
_______________________
1) Vivica Fox. I'm not really a breast guy but, well, Yeesh...
2) Jessica Alba
3) Christina Ricci
4) Scarlett Johansen
5) Hilary Duff (S.A's gonna hate this one since I think she's still underaged and, as S.A. points out regularly, she has no neck.)
6) Natalie Portman
7) On VH1's "I Love the 90's", Jay & Silent Bob had a bit called "Guys I'd Go Gay For." #7 is my list that S.A. and I have joked about that the past couple years. In no particular order-
Hugh Grant, Phil Gordon (From Celebrity Poker Showdown), Dave Foley, and it seems like I'm missing someone, but I'm sure S.A. will point him out.

Perhaps a peg-leg?

Most of already know that we have two cats, Roxie and Velma. When we fed them this morning, Sarah realized that, though Roxie joined us to eat, she was not putting any weight on her right hind leg. When I picked her up, I found that her leg was hanging limply from the hip joint, although, quite surprisingly, she did not hiss or scratch when I felt the leg, trying to find a break.

I took her to Jensen's Animal Hospital where a childhood friend, Sarah Ginop, is now a vet. Sarah called me a few hours later to tell me that Roxie had been hit by a car and had broken femur in 2 places. Thankfully, undoubtedly because of Roxie's predilection for neatness, she had cleaned herself so well that there was absolutely no sign of infection. Sometimes being an uppity snot is a good thing, I guess. However, do to the severity of the break, the best option for a full recovery was to amputate the leg.

Roxie has always been a beautiful cat. You know that old adage about there being girls you date and girls you marry? Roxie is definitely a girl you date. She's pitch black with a white muzzle, white tummy, and white feet. (In case you wondered, Velma is a girl you marry. Cute enough, and you know that she'll always love you, but you also know that all those bugs she eats are gonna go straight to her hips.) I guess now instead of doing that kitty calendar that S.A. and I have joked about, she's gonna have to do an amputee calendar with Heather McCartney.

Anyway, she'll have her surgery later this afternoon or early tomorrow, so we should be able to bring her home on Friday. She'll be living in the guest room, since even I , with my allergies, can't bring myself to make her stay outside, even in the shop, while she's recuperating. So everybody keep her in your thoughts and prayers. (Even though you should already be thinking of the homeless in New Orleans about 24/7.)

Laterz

Yo Ho Ho...

We went to Michigan's Adventure / Whitewater Adventure this weekend. I love water parks and I enjoy a number of amusement park rides, so it was a good day. However, the highlight of the whole experience is an easy call.

Jeff, Matt, and I took my nephew Joe on the pirate ship ride. You know the one; the ship swings side to side so you're looking straight down and then you're straight up and then... Anyway, we've all done it and we all enjoy it and since Joe actually likes roller coasters, we thought he'd probably like the pirate ship.

We climbed on and started the ride but on the second or third ride Joe made a strange yelp at the moment when you start to quickly descend and it feels like you've left your stomach behind. Jeff and I looked at each other thinking that we thought we might have recognized the tone of his yelp and when we swung back up and then descended again, Joe cleared up any doubt for us.

At the moment when everyone else on the ride raised their arms and screamed, Joe grabbed ahold of his "junk" and screamed "The wind's pressing my Wee Wee!". We laughed and figured we might want to mention to him that this probably wasn't an appropriate thing for a 9-year-old to yell on a public ride, but we really didn't worry, because we knew that no-one outside our group had heard him.

All of us were chuckling as the ride came to an end, thinking of how we should check to make sure he wasn't in too much discomfort when he turned around in his seat to face Jeff and I and exclaimed "Let's go AGAIN!!!"

Yet another way that amusement parks rock.

Laterz