Huh?

I've been wandering around aimlessly since my last post in mid December just milling about.  The weather was so mild, I had no reason to come indoors.  So I started walking.  I walked day and night.  I wandered in alleys and thoroughfares.  I just could not stop meandering.  The snow was not falling, so I assumed it was still fall and I chased rabbits and roled around in leaves. 

During my jaunt, I had a lot of time to think.  I thought about how warm it was and about how the brown of the grass really complimented the blue glow of the ambulance lights passing me. 

Finally last week, I came inside.  Boy did I have mail!  Those National Geographics really pile up after awhile!  I managed to pull on a clean yet faded "Dr. Feelgood" t-shirt and fire up Ye Olde Laptop. 

Blog On!

Top ten things uttered by Kim Jong Il while on his death bed

Top ten things uttered by Kim Jong Il while on his death bed:

10.  Just Kidding about all my craziness.  I was just joking.

9.  These glasses really are huge, aren't they?

8. Once I feel better, we can stop torturing the dissidents

7.  Where's my meat dress?

6.  Elvis, is that you?

5.  Did you say my hero and reason for living,Gary Coleman, is dead? 

4. I want to stockpile Martha Stewart

3.  First Saddam, then Osama, and now Gaddafi!  Who am I going to play "Words With Friends" with?

2.  I'd like to change my name to Kim Jong I'm-Feeling-Better

1.  I want to vow my loyalty to our fearless leader, Borat Jong Il

Bad Christmas Party Ideas

So in an interest of helping out the community, I have assembled activities that are BAD ideas for company Christmas parties.

5.  Open bar at the shooting range

4.  All-you-can-Rub lotion Smorgasboard

3.  Hors d'oeuvres followed by a greasy-looking Andy Dick mumbling to a can of silver spray paint.

2.  Egg Nog wrestling

1.  Human centipede Twister

Please don't attend any parties like that. 

You are welcome!

What I want for Christmas

Unusual Christmas Traditions

It is the Holiday season and we are all unpacking our artificial pine trees and plastic elf ears, there are other places with some unusual Christmas traditions. 

 For example, in Possum Trot, Alabama, each year, the town holds a parade the first week of December where they march hundreds of recently killed possums down the city's main street.  The unusual part of this tradition is that the dead possums are attached to long strings or even gutted to make puppets for the annual "Possum Puppet and Marionette Festival".  People come from a mile or so to see the gruesome dancing animals that routinely do crude group dance numbers to loud music coming from 4x4 trucks.

 In Jim Town, Colorado, the residents traditionally erect a giant Christmas tree in the town center, decorate it extravagantly in a day-long event and then promptly burn it to the ground that evening.

In the heartland of America, in the little town of Kickapoo, IL, they have an equally unusual Christmas tradition.  On the day of the first snow, the town gathers at the fair grounds at high noon for a feast of sausages and hot chocolate and watch as someone dressed up as Jack Frost get chased by on-lookers and eventually pummeled into a bloody unconsciousness.  They then hoist the lifeless body above the crowd and parade him through the town in hopes that the forthcoming winter won't be harsh.  Being chosen to be Jack Frost is an honor usually reserved for the person that is the newest resident of the town.

Red Sneaker Blog - How It's Made

During this process, they are not to chew gum, smile, or be cognitive.  I pay them well, not with mere currency, but with respect and a few "Not Bads" thrown in.  They appear satisfied with their jobs, with the exception of the one who seems to enjoy the persuader stick. 

Once the blog entry has been translated, it passes through a loose quality control process where a nice gentleman who spends his days waving at passing traffic, takes time out of his day to ensure the content of the entry passes muster.

After that, it goes to packaging and delivery department where each hand-crafted blog entry is carefully packaged in custom HTML and delivered to your internet doorway still a like damp from the morning dew.

You are welcome. 

What I am thankful for

Mr. Rickets

Mr. Rickets, our classroom's pet rodent.  I don't remember exactly what kind of rodent he was, but I do remember he was small and furry and small enough to fit into the teacher's coffee mug.

On a totally different note, have I ever mentioned that long after I moved onto Junior High, my elementary school  still referred to the chair outside of the Principal's office as "Brian's Chair"?

The Taming of the Screw

Our kitchen remodel just had the cabinets removed and the room sat empty with pipes sticking up through the floor and we were using a folding table to hold a coffee maker, toaster and microwave.  It was like a post-apocalyptic Martha Stewart moment. 

Thankfully, my father-in-law, Henry, was going to help me install the new cabinets and counter tops.  Here's a few things I learned this past weekend I have to pass along:

1.        Buy a good level.  If you can't, wait for your father-in-law to give you one. 

2.       PEX Plumbing is Awesome!  It takes the worst part of plumbing out of the equation—the "sweating" of the copper joints.  I think they call it "sweating" joints because you sweat the entire time until you turn the water back on.  They should have called it "Swearing" joints.

3.       Not only are old house not square and level, but in certain areas, the universe has installed wormholes where something that appeared level one moment is totally not level 30 seconds later.  It's like a magnetic switcheroo.  Damn you, universe!

4.       When in doubt, put a level on it. 

Sledding

As I look out the window at the thin snow, I begin to think about the joy of putting on the big black snow suit with the yellow strip up the sleeve and digging out the red spastic sled.  It's time to catch some air! 

As a kid, I remember using anything that would slide as a sled.  After all, we may only have one sled between the 5 of us in the neighborhood.  We had spent the fall scouting out sledding spots and waiting patiently for the white stuff.  Sometimes we couldn't wait and tried sledding down a dirt hill.  This is how we lost our friend Gil.  Oh, he didn't die.  He got dirt rash on his face and his mom refused to let him play with us any more.  I guess we were "Bad Influences".  Eventually Gil was never heard from again.  Rumor on the street (Oak Street) was that he was being home schooled.  Poor guy.

The snow finally flew and we were able to move the dumpster away from the bottom of the best hill in the 5 block area.  We suited up with attention to every detail like we were Evel Knieval getting ready to soar over the Grand Canyon.  Triple socks—check.  Sweater tucked into underwear—check.  Old cut-off socks  on the wrists to prevent frostbite—check.    Motorcycle with beefed up suspension and reinforced frame—not yet. 

We emerge from our houses simultaneously and sprinted for the hill. 

Before us, stretched a mostly untouched hill with flecks of sparkle everywhere, it was time to defile the pristine landscape with our sleds. 

WHOOOOOOSH!  As a kid, it was the closest thing we had to  racing cars or flying airplanes.  It WAS AWESOME!  Our adrenaline pumped through our nine-year-old veins like fuel in a speeding funny car (whatever that is).

Eventually, someone would decide we needed more excitement and started building a ramp.  The ramps were almost always very small and the incline were typically very sharp.  IF you were lucky enough to actually hit the ramp, you were certain to have a sore tailbone for weeks to come.  My tailbone hurts just thinking about.