Thin White Duke Meets Mr. White Christmas

Day two of my Christmas video countdown brings us to the classic David Bowie & Bing Crosby 'Little Drummer Boy' duet. I embedded the long version with the scripted portion of the video that is actually rather well-written. Bowie is super comfortable riffing with Bing, and Bing is pro's pro, delivering his lines with an earnestness that doesn't come across as contrived or condescending.

Vocally, Bing and Bowie sound fantastic. What should have been an odd pairing wound up a Christmas classic.

Here are some interesting tidbits about this song:

 Bowie initially refused to perform the duet, feeling that the puh-ruhm-puh-puhms were all wrong for him...so the show writers ch-ch-ch-ch-changed the song, whipping up the 'Peace On Earth' bit that Bowie sings just hours before taping the show.

 Although the song was recorded September 11, 1977 it wasn't released as a single until 1982. In exchange for appearing on Bing Crosby's 'Merrie Olde Christmas Special', the producers were asked to air Bowie's video for 'Heroes' with Bing introducing it.

 Bing Crosby passed away a month after the taping of this Christmas special. I have no idea why the set this was filmed on could double as the location of a Scooby-Doo mystery. The set creators were going for baroque...zing?

I Guess This Means I'm Back

Inspired by the sudden return of Shelvis to social media, I decided to fire this tatty ol' blog up again. Besides, what else have I got going on, amirite? For those of you not in the know, due to a dubious at best reorganization at work I am currently one of the legion of unemployed. Good times! Actually, it kind of is. Although, being a stay at home dad (or SAHD) with three kids is wee bit more challenging that being a SAHD with one infant to take care of. These older kids have to be places like school, band practice, friend's houses...and then they expect to be picked up and brought home and given stuff like food and water. As George Harrison once sang, it sometimes is all too much. Taking care of Maddy as a baby was easy. She was basically a human koala bear cub that did nothing but eat, sleep for copious hours, and soil herself. Maddy also never moved around much since she was a baby...but that's not the case anymore. She's a mover and a shaker and her and her sisters are whirling dervishes and mess making little vandals. There just aren't enough hours in the day to keep up with the laundry, dishes, and other housekeeping chores. Even worse, should I actually get stuff taken care of it all goes to hell again when the kids get home from school...but I digress. Christmas is upon us, so I figured I would kick off being back in the blogosphere with a daily countdown of my favorite Christmas videos. First up, Hall & Oates and their video for 'Jingle Bell Rock'. Now, 'Jingle Bell Rock' is one of my least fave Christmas songs. It just annoys the Christmas spirit and not so Christmas piss right out of me. However, this version of the song is palatable only because of the treeeeeemendous video that accompanies it. For starters, there's Darryl Hall's hair. That is a serious, serious whip he's carrying on that head of his. Toss in the green trousers pulled up to his armpits, the Elvis aping dance moves and his penchant for non-ironic mugging for the camera and you've got yourself a perfect storm of self-importance. Sidebar - I recently watched an updated version of the Hall & Oates: Behind the Music. Darryl Hall is not lacking in the confidence department, even though he's responsible for some of the 80's sh*ttiest music. 'Private Eyes', 'Maneater', 'Kiss On My List'...those are just gawd awful songs. To Darryl Hall they are the greatest tunes ever written, and he'll be the first to tell you that. Ironically, the only Hall & Oates tune I do like is 'Family Man'...which is a cover. John Oates is just John Oates. That mustache he's rocking looks like something that you would chase out of your house with a broom. One other things stands out - John Oates is freakishly short. Someone needs to organize a 1x1 game of hoops between Prince and Oates. That would be epic. Can we make that happen? I also like the sweater he's wearing in the video, and unlike Hall our kid Oates doesn't take himself too seriously. He's having fun, selling his facial expressions like no one's business. It's a great 80's video performance. Anyhoo - here you go. Enjoy?

Gangsta Party Line

LA based comedian Brent Weinbach created this video and posted it to YouTube.  It is seriously NSFW nor is it safe for anyone offended by profanity or prolific use of the N-word...but I'd be lying if I didn't admit to laughing out loud a couple of times...the line about bone spurs damn near killed me....

Just Wondering...

...if this thing still works?  Hello? 

Beginning Of The End Of Housing Bubble 2.0

I've been keeping an eye on the real estate market since the implosion of the last housing bubble, all the while shaking my head at the lengths government has gone to prop up prices and protect the banks.  In doing so, a second housing bubble has been inflated, and when this one goes the feds will be powerless to prevent a hard landing...and we are in for a hard landing, folks.

The last act of the previous housing bubble was the bankruptcy of Lehman Bros, the failure of Washington Mutual (and hundreds of other banks), and the near collapse of the entire financial system.  The residential mortgage backed security (RMBS) industry spawned during that bubble marked the peak, or the beginning of the end.  When no more bag holders could be found when the music stopped it all imploded.

Sadly, and due to bailouts and government policies, no one seems to have learned a lesson from what transpired only 7 years ago as Wall Street is once again engineering investment securities.  Securitization is simply the pooling of assets to back a deal, which is what the RMBS were.  The deal is then sliced and diced into different risk classes and sold off to investors desperate for some kind of yield.  The riskier the exposure means a greater return, but also a greater chance of a total loss. 

I'm really glossing over a lot of wonky details here because a lot of people find this stuff boring and dull.  I don't as I find it fascinating that we are staring down the barrel of another bubble bursting...once again marked at the peak by securitization, only this time it is the securitazation of rental income, not mortgages.  Read that again.  Blackstone Group is the country's largest landlord, owner of some 32k rental units.  Deutsche Bank is currently in negotiations with Blackstone to bundle and sell bonds to investors backed by rental income.  In other words, Blackstone is selling off their exposure to the rental and real estate market and running for the exits.  They are looking for a greater fool to take hold of the bag of REO exposure they are holding.  Once Blackstone and Deutsche Bank price these investments out and begin selling them, it is only a matter of time before others do the same....and if they are selling, that means there are buyers, just like before (see: AIG, Bailout Of). 

Blackstone Group has been one of the biggest cheer leading housing bulls in recent memory.  If they are actively selling off their exposure to real estate I would say their actions speak louder than their words...read the whole thing here. 

Running Down A Dream

Apparently, there are a couple of folks out there that don't appreciate my uploading of runs on Facebook.  I get that as I don't always appreciate uplifting quotes about rainbows and gumdrops and pictures of the goddam salad you had for lunch.  However, I just move past those posts and onto the next one.  No biggie.  If you happen to be one of the individuals that dislike the Runtastic uploads about my sh*tty run that day, defriend me or block my posts...easy peasy lemon squeezy, people....

So, why do I post the runs to Facebook?  Accountability...that's really it.  Having Runtastic track and upload my runs is motivating, there is a record that keeps me honest and monitors my progress for the week.  Runtastic has helped me stay on course and also assisted me in setting proper limits and goals for myself.  I've started fitness quests before, and they have all ended in failure or injury or both.  Sharing my runs and receiving feedback and tips has been awesome for me.  A year ago I couldn't run 2 miles in 24 minutes, in a couple of weeks I should be able to run 3 miles in under 27 minutes.  I've dropped 15 lbs, cut two inches off my waist and clothes I haven't worn in years now fits.  I'm happy, I'm making progress, Runtastic has been an integral tool in this journey.

I still have another 20 or so elbees to drop, that means I'm going to keep running and working in tabata workouts throughout the week.  I'm going to keep posting my progress good and bad.  You don't have to read about them if you don't want, just like I don't have to read your post about candy crapping unicorns and hummingbirds spreading love and joy like so much avian flu.  We good now, bro?  

Don't Call It A Comeback

Yesterday I did something I haven't done in almost 9 years...and something I never thought I'd be able to do again at all - I played basketball...full court basketball with guys half my age and one other gent at least a decade my junior.  And it was an effing blast.  Yes, my knees are creaky today and my back is a little sore, but I played for two hours straight (winners kept the court, losers shot for next) and didn't embarrass myself too much.  Now, I didn't dunk on anyone, got beat on rebounds I used to snag routinely, and missed all four of the long jumpers I attempted (getting one swatted with the ferocity of a grizzly tearing into a honey drenched beehive), but I helped my team win...and had a blast doing so...

The secret to playing pickup basketball with guys 1/2 your age is knowing your limitations and theirs.  The kids want to play hero ball by taking impossible shots and beating their man and going one on five.  After a couple of minutes of play I told the teammate closest to me in age that if we did nothing but play pick & roll and screen & pop ball, we'd give the much taller and faster team fits.  Which is exactly what we did...kids can't defend the pick & roll, they get lost on the switches or over commit.  That's why John Stockton was able to play until he was 40...he understood that the most fundamental play in basketball was difficult to defend...it's the crane kick of basketball...if done right, no can defense...

Anyhoo, young guys on break from college are also in terrible shape.  I'm in no condition to run a 10k yet, but a 5k is on the horizon.  At about the hour mark of playing, one of the fellas on the other team asked if I ever got tired.  I think he was surprised that he was still chasing me around a bit on defense and that I got back in transition.  When we were done playing I was offered a ride home (I walked to the park with The Better Half and the girls, they left after about a 1/2 hour), but I told them I'd run home.  Sure, the park is just shy of a 1/2 mile from my house, but I felt good and wanted to jog it out....

So, yeah...that was a good time.  I finally started hitting jump hooks and turnarounds about two games in, but I still missed a lot of chippies and even blew a layup..remember, I haven't played basketball in 9/10 of a decade.  The best part was when I was invited back to join them next week, an offer I think I'll take up...but I do have some concerns about playing again.  Tabata has done wonders to strengthen my legs, so they feel strong.  My knees are sore though, nothing excruciating, but a lack of cartilage is a lack of cartilage and it doesn't get better no matter how much glucosamine I ingest.  If I play again I'll need to wear a brace to at least keep my knees warm.  However, the risk is there that I will injure one of my knees again, which would royally, royally suck a mountain of drunken orangutan ass...but I love playing ball.  I was horrible at organized basketball, but I have always been able to hold my own at playground ball...it felt good to get back out there and dish a few dimes, start a fast break or two, and hit some shots in the lane...once a week should be okay, but I'll need to sit out when/if my knees feel wrong...I'll keep you posted...

Posting To Show I Still Care

Yeah, about posting...that hasn't been happening, now has it?  Turns out it's a lot easier to post to FB or Twitter, especially from an iPhone. 

Anyhoo - what's been going down?  Let me take you back a few weeks...I am not what you would call a fan of electronic dance music.  In fact, I pretty much detest it and have since the days it was called house, electronica, and techno.  See, I like my music to contain this crazy thing called melody and feeling and, oh, I don't know...actual musicianship.  EDM possesses none of those traits, it's just layers of music on top of one another and then set to 120 BPM...oh, and the drop...according to EDM fans it's 'all about the drop'.  So, yeah...what was I doing at an EDM show?  Trying to be a good sport and also checking out first hand what all the fuss was about.  I attended BT's show at Q on Capitol Hill last month and it was...loud.  Which of course makes me sound like Grandpa Taylor, but the noise was uneffingrelenting...and the music itself just wasn't good.  Plus, for the genre being called electronic dance music, there wasn't much dancing...just lots of hopping around...or the occasional dosed out of his head pear shaped geek flailing about in a somewhat spastic manner...but no dancing.  Maybe the dance portion of EDM is ironic in meaning...?

Oh, electronic dance music also kills dolphins.  Dolphins!!!

Germany or Florida

Adam Carolla used to have a bit on his radio show called 'Germany or Florida?'  The premise was simple - a batsh*t crazy story from the news was read and guests had to deduce whether said batsh*t crazy story went down in Germany or Florida. 

Sadly, this story is all Germany...

Just stop it, Germany...for reals...knock it off. 

Just Checkin' In

I received my biometrics results last week, results that were more than likely skewed due to me being on the wrong side of a good time hungover and/or still mildly tipsy from the night before.  Anyhoo, my binge drinking aside, the results weren't all too bad:

Body Mass Index reading = Obese!  I really can't tell you how much I hate the BMI....

Blood Pressure = 124/80

Cholesterol =  169 ('Desirable'...)

Blood Sugar = 103 (I'm sure the previous night's activities had something to do with this coming in as 'Borderline')

LDL = 93 (Optimal!)

HDL = 35 (Low...)

Triglyceride = 206 (High...from Triglyceride.com - When alcohol (ethanol) is present in the blood, the liver prioritizes removing alcohol from the blood over other metabolic processes. The liver can detoxify about one ounce of alcohol (distilled spirits) per hour, which is about 1 serving of an alcoholic beverage (equivalent to 12 ounces of beer or 4 ounces of wine).In the meantime, however, glucose tends to be further processed into triglycerides which raises their blood levels.) Yes, well...

TC/HDL Ratio = 4.8 (Average)

Overall, not too shabby for an OBESE person, but I do need to work on my HDL level to get my TC/HDL Ratio above average.  I've increased my exercise during the week, incorporating tabata training to build better overall endurance...and also because the treadmill just wasn't doing it for me anymore.  Tabata has made a bigger impact on overall weight and appearance in two weeks than close to a year of weights and the treadmill have. 

I would like to undergo another biometrics screening in 6 months to check my progress...although I will more than likely still be obese...

Kung Fu Fighting

Is MMA still a thing that people get excited about and order on PPV and have friends over to watch and shite like that?  I went through an MMA phase near the end of the Tito Ortiz era and followed it closely.  Then Brock Lesnar came along, bringing with him an element of WWE boneheaded idiocy and that was that. 

So, anyway - MMA...I received a flier in the mail today for a new MMA fight center opening up somewhere around me.  The flier said I could train to fight or just train to train as if I were going to fight without actually fighting.  No where in the pamphlet was their a fight to train option mentioned, which is too bad because I'm guessing that would be one sporty workout.

Say what you will about MMA, those guys are in shape.  It takes a lot of cardiovascular endurance to keep another man from submitting you by forcibly placing you in a rear naked choke...and reading those words out loud might sound like rough trade, but it's completely straight.  Honest.

 

 

Stay Away From Sears!

So, remember back in February when we went through a gigantic fiasco with Sears concerning a refrigerator and a dishwasher?  Well, it's now June 3rd, and I'm still dealing with corporate incompetence from Sears.  Here is a list of things Sears fails at:

1.  Delivering the correct appliances

2.  Not beating the living piss out of your hardwood floors

3.  Returning phone calls

4.  Staffing their customer service number with fluent English speakers

5.  Explaining charges on your account

6.  Crediting back your account when they have made mistakes

Here's the situation - we bought a dishwasher.  When we received our first bill the total outstanding balance was $500.00 more than what was on our receipt and included some funky charges that remain unexplained.  Calls to customer service were beyond frustrating as the reps manning the phones could barely put a sentence together let alone explain a billing statement.  In the meantime, we've been racking up finance charges we never intended to accrue because we wanted to pay the account off...but since we can't get an accurate payoff balance we've been making the monthly minimum.  Which means more finance charges are accruing on an inflated balance. 

Now, we could just pay the outstanding balance to avoid the charges, but I have no faith that Sears would ever credit us with the proper amount we overpaid.  Frankly, I'm surprised that company can pay their electric bill month in and month out.  Again, this has been going on since February, which is when I was assigned a 'case worker' to look into our billing situation.  Want to know how many times I've received a phone call from my case worker?  That would be zero.  Oh, I've called my case worker every week since Feb 22nd, but she has never returned my messages.  My emails at least receive a canned response, but that's about it.  Twitter complaining gets a prompt response...that my issue will be escalated to my case worker. 

Every company has reps that have a bad day, but the level of disregard and apathy I've encountered with Sears tells me that their indifference and lack of caring is systemic.  It runs top to bottom with that organization.  It shouldn't take 4 months to get an accurate billing statement...or even an apology for scratching and denting our wood floor.  I've yet to speak to a live person at Sears outside of the organic automatons employed to answer phones at their 800 number.  No one is accountable.

If you are in the market for new appliances, by all means, avoid Sears.  You'll get better service at Lowe's and Home Depot...Sears will just deliver the wrong appliances, which is what they did to us and our neighbors.  The delivery team will ding up your floors and not even apologize.  When you call to report the claim you'll be assigned an unaccountable case worker that is completely disengaged.  Your bill will be wrong and no one will be able to explain why...but other than that I'm sure Sears is just great to deal with. 

Recovery

Pushed my run today to just shy of 3.5 miles.  I felt pretty good for the most part, but always struggle with two aspects of any run...treadmill or outdoors:

During the first 1/2 to 3/4 miles, I'm wheezing like an asthmatic.  It takes me at least 1/2 mile to settle into a comfortable breathing cadence, but some days I'll struggle through the first 3/4 of a mile.  Back in my mountain biking days I would do a vigorous warmup before tackling the trails.  By slightly winding myself before the main event I found it easier to settle into a ride.  That strategy doesn't seem to work with running.  So, any suggestions on getting that particular hitch out of the first segment of my runs would be much appreciated.

The second area I struggle with is recovery, especially muscle wise and specifically my hamstrings.  My hamstrings are in extreme discomfort when I start a run, even if I stretch them out and warm up.  I had to stop for about a minute during today's run to stretch again (right at the 1 mile mark) and shake my legs out.  They didn't bother me again until about 3 hours after the run.  The pain is odd, in between a cramp and a pull.  Taking an ice cold bath after a run has really helped quite a bit, but they are aching right now.  Rest doesn't seem to make much of a difference either.  I'm thinking it could be a quad to hamstring muscle imbalance that will eventually work itself out.  However, like the warmup question, I'm looking for any tips on dealing with muscle pain during and after a run...

Running isn't the only thing I'm recovering from though.  Maddy had a slumber party last night and invited 5 of her friends over.  From 5pm until about midnight last night the house was filled with the shrieks and giggles of 9-10 year old girls...plus two 6 year olds (Jossy had a friend over too) and Katelyn.  That's a lot of girls.  They are all great kids, but at one point I had to take them all outside to burn some calories.  The cul-de-sac was overrun with girls on scooters, bikes, throwing frisbees, playing hide and go seek, and general mayhem.  The Better Half eventually got them to settle down around midnight, the last giggle from downstairs was heard around 12:30...we figure they were all asleep at 1am...and they were all up at 6am this morning.  I made pancakes for them while TBH helped get their stuff organized to eventually go home.  Maddy is a little worn out today and cranky, so she's hitting the hay early tonight...as am I! 

Time to take some melatonin and magnesium (night time leg cramps are the worse thing ever!) and call it a night...I'll have to catch Mad Men on the DVR tomorrow...!

Take It To The Limit

At the behest and urging of some friends, I finally downloaded the MyFitnessPal and Runtastic apps on my iPhone.  The idea being that both apps would make me much more accountable when it came to diet and exercise.  Well, those friends were certainly correct as both apps have made me think much more about what I eat and how hard I work out.  Unfortunately, I'm now starting to get so much up in my own head about calories burned and ingested that all I want to do is work out.  Accountability is great unless you are a borderline obsessive that just happens to be seasoned with a dash of self-loathing and a pinch of competitiveness....

My issues with working out and running are well documented on this blog and my Facebook page.  I run for a while, push myself too hard, and the next thing you know my knees are more swollen than the feds balance sheet.  Then I have to stop running so my creaky knees recover.  This time has been different for me though.  At 43 I think I've finally learned to listen to what my body is trying to tell me when it signals to me in short burst of blinding pain and overwhelming discomfort.  Just last year I would have tried to push through some of the aches and pains after workouts, but lately I've been doing more stretching, applying ice, and even resting.

The resting bit is a difficult one for me as I want to drop weight and increase endurance in the shortest amount of time possible.  This, of course, leads to not only injury, but emotional breakdowns when I discover I didn't lose 15lbs overnight.  That crushing disappoint sends me into a tailspin that I eventually take out on a blueberry scone or a manhole cover sized plate of phad thai at Tropics.  Not good.  Now that I am monitoring my caloric intake I don't have to go on hardcore no carb diets and what have you.  Which is good. MyFitnessPal sets a calorie ceiling for the day, I stay below it.  Easy peasy!  

Resting also plays against my desire to hit a new goal immediately after achieving a goal I had set previously.  At the beginning of May I set a goal to run a treadmill 5k in under 30 minutes.  I met that goal today, running 3.1 miles in just over 29 1/2 minutes.  Not too shabby for an old man with bad knees!  Whatever sense of accomplishment I felt dissipated in a hurry as I wanted to set and start working towards my next goal - 3 miles in 27 minutes, but outdoors...not on a treadmill.

I think if I don't over do it and continue stretching, eating better, and getting proper rest (ice water baths after a hard run has helped recovery a lot!), I can avoid injury and will hit my goal by mid-June.  As far as weight goes, I have a number in mind for the end of June that I'm currently ahead of.  I have to lay off the lifting though, which is also tough for me to do...but it is necessary if I want to continue losing mass.

With MyFitnessPal to keep me calorie honest and that limey B*TCH in my ear 'motivating' me via Runtastic, I should be able to hit my June goals...  

Foxy Knoxy And Talkin' All That Jazz...

...I didn't watch all of the Amanda Knox interview when it aired a short while ago.  The one portion I did watch before the melatonin and sleeping pill cocktail kicked in was when she spoke of how she believed casual sexual relationships were what 'liberated' and 'empowered' women engaged in.  Now, I'm not going to go all Grandpa Taylor on you and act OUTRAGED by it all.  However, I am going to ask this - when did being a liberated and empowered woman equal assuming all the worst attributes of men?  I've never really understood how all of that works, I'm sure it has something to do with making choices that no one questions men about, etc.  Just throwing it out there, but my take on Amanda Knox was that she had profound regrets concerning her behavior leading up to her arrest, trial, imprisonment, and eventual freedom.  And no, she isn't a hero or a role model or a shining example to be set upon a pedestal - she was an incredibly arrogant, yet ignorant, spoiled brat that got caught up in something bigger than her.  If anything, she's a cautionary tale, the ultimate episode of 'Locked Up: Abroad'.

I shouldn't be surprised that there is little to no public outcry concerning the Benghazi cover-up, a scandal that would have been leading the news 24/7 a mere 7 years ago or if the current WH occupant had a (R) after his name.  Instead, it's all being swept under the rug by a press corp that is literally part of this administration's family.  The fact that the presidents of CBS and ABC news have siblings working within the Obama administration has nothing to do with this, now does it?  Of course it does.  CBS and ABC have been carrying water for Obama since he won the 08 election.  Now it is indeed a family affair...and Fox News is the one that vile progs accuse of bias?  That's funny...

Maybe the latest scandals to break, the unprecedented seizure of phone records of AP reporters and targeted harassment from the IRS that were political in nature, will awaken the media.  I highly doubt it as most Americans seem to be completely oblivious as to what is happening around them and to them.  And that's just how government wants us - bloated, slow, and ignorant.  Rick Santelli did manage to make an interesting point though.  The IRS will be enforcers of Obamacare, if they can target individuals financially, they will sure as hell target individuals medically as well.  But don't let that stop you from the latest episode of 'The Voice'!    

General Round Up

If you accidentally spray Round Up...no, I take that back...if even a slight mist of Round Up over-spray lands in the general vicinity of a plant you don't want dead, said plant will be a burnt out husk within 24 hours.  However, if you douse crabgrass colonies with Round Up on multiple occasions over the course of a week, well, the crabgrass is either more resilient than Kirk Douglas or Round Up really sucks at killing crabgrass. 

When I declared total war on my lawn it was with a hope that has now grown as dim as Audrina Patridge that hostilities would soon cease and rebuilding would begin.  I don't see calling off the Round Up anytime soon.  Even worse, sections of the lawn have sprouted partisan grass blades, making my scorched earth Round Up bombing runs seem a wee bit more reckless...do I accept collateral damage, or do I just provide high altitude air support as the grass overruns the colonies of demon weed?  I'm attempting a bit of both, indiscriminately raining death of all things green where the fight seems hopeless, surgically striking where the good guy grass is choking out the crabgrass.  Yes, I'm entirely too emotionally involved with the yard, but as The Better Half said, it is my domain and I shall rule it with an Ironite fist!

Now to leave the talk of lawn care...

I'm actually looking forward to the Superman re-reboot.  Michael Shannon bringing his peculiar brand of crazy to the role of General Zod has all kinds of appeal.  Henry Cavill as Superman/Clark Kent does have me somewhat worried.  When an upright and living Christopher Reeve played Superman/Clark Kent, he embodied the spirit of both characters with charisma and charm. I haven't seen enough of Cavill to totally believe that he can pull off double duty.  Here's hoping he can, that the movie doesn't suck, and that a sequel brings Doomsday to the big screen as Superman's ultimate foe.

If an Aquaman movie never gets made even that will be too soon...Aquaman is a tool.  




  

Feeling Crabby

I've been waging war on the crabgrass in my lawn for at least four years.  Tonight I conceded the battle to the countless crabgrass colonies residing in my backyard...but I won the war.  If there is one thing I can offer to any of my 9 readers that may also be fighting the marauding hoards of demon weed it is this:  Do not negotiate with crabgrass...it will think you weak, taunt you, and come back stronger than ever.

See, I tried playing nice and green when I first noticed the telltale signs of early crabgrass incursions into the yard.  My first attempts were organic...a little apple cider vinegar diluted with water...cutting the crabgrass colonies out of the yard and sodding the bare patches...overseeding the yard every spring to gently choke out offending weeds.  None of those options were effective, and each spring more and more crabgrass worked its way into the yard.

For the last two years I have tried preemergence herbicides, products designed to discourage crabgrass seeds from germinating.  Well, all that stuff did was act as a super serum that created an unstoppable pestilence.  The crabgrass friggin' thrived after throwing down some weed & feed with 'Halts'.  This stuff sucks no matter when applied...I don't think it even made the crabgrass feel bad about itself, let alone discourage it.    

My original plan for this evening was to apply yet another product that retarded crabgrass growth, but would not harm the lawn.  Just before hooking the bottle up to the hose, I took one last look around...and wanted to scream 'broken arrow' like Mel Gibson did in 'We Were Soldiers'...but I didn't want the new neighbors to think I was crazy.  Instead, I opened the shed and broke out the Round Up, the napalm of off the shelf weed killers, and went to work inside my own perimeter. 

Sadly, everywhere I sprayed Round Up is going to be scorched Earth within two days, but I stand by my decision.  Yes, some good grass will die, blue on blue casualties, but the lawn had been overrun.  The plan is to re-sod the impacted areas after all the vegetation has died and gets raked out.  I'll put down new top soil and starter fertilizer and begin anew...and about three years from now the battle to rid my life of the Great Crabgrass War of 2016 will kick off....

Macca At Safeco Field

Sweet jiminy bitchwhistle...Paul McCartney is playing Safeco Field July 14th.  Decent tickets are going for about $150.00...which leads to a real dilemma for me.  Paul is the last surviving Beatle if you don't count Ringo, but Ringo seems to play local winery shows every other weekend during the summer.  Paul, on the other hand, doesn't get around to this part of the world as much.  I'm really trying to take emotion out of any decision I make concerning this show, so let's break this somnabitch down pros and cons style...

Pros:  This might be Paul's last big tour and I don't think I should miss out, Paul's big hits with the Beatles and Wings are real crowd pleasers, he's still using the kick ass backing band he threw together 12 years ago, I've never seen any of the Beatles live...

Cons:  Jeebus, $150.00 is a lot of bones to pay to see a guy that struggles to hit notes, there's a chance he plays 'Say, Say, Say' or any other track off of the dismal 'Pipes Of Peace' album from 1983, he looked and sounded horrible at the recent Grammy awards, a lot of Paul's solo work without Wings is crap...

I think this is going to come down to me sleeping on it.  Prince played the Showbox recently and I passed on dropping $250 to see him with his new band in a small venue.  I've regretted that decision ever since, even though I'm glad my bank account isn't $250 lighter.  How much of missing that show is playing into me wanting to see McCartney?  Probably quite a bit...

Maybe I'll just watch 'A Hard Day's Night' and throw back a few drinks instead...

Cleaning House

It's been a while, so allow me to get a few things out of the way before cutting to the chase...

So, yeah...I went and saw Shania Twain while I was in Vegas.  Now, I didn't go alone...I promised The Better Half that I would take her to see Shania Twain when her Caesars Palace shows were announced over a year ago.  The opportunity to fulfill that promise presented itself and unlike every other situation I had promised to do something, I actually saw this one through. 

I am not a fan of Shania Twain's music.  At all.  However, Shania Twain's music was never meant for someone like me, it is/was targeted to females...the twang version of 'Girl Power' introduced by the Spice Girls in the mid-90's.  And that's fine.  I understand and accept that, so I just enjoyed the show for what it was, and that was a magnificently produced Vegas spectacle.  The set was simple but still saw numerous large piece changes ranging from a western saloon to a fake camp site to an icy snowscape...and there were two live horses and a flying motorcycle.

As a performer, Shania Twain is a pro.  She's much calmer than she was a decade ago, no longer running around the stage dressed as the world's wealthiest aerobics instructor.  Her voice is a lot stronger than I would have giver her credit for.  Song arrangements were stripped down and straightforward, driven by a top notch drummer that kept everything tight.  From a musical standpoint, it was good to hear the Mutt Lange overproduction from the studio kicked to the curb.

Overall, it was an enjoyable experience, one that TBH enjoyed more than I did.  I still had fun (the depth charge sized mojito I had before the show helped) and hey, if you are in Vegas and looking for a show you could do a lot worse than Shania Twain....

Now, back to business...

Here's the deal.  I've once again managed to roll up on some kind of identity crisis when it comes to this blog and writing in general.  Too many times I've stopped writing/posting out of fear of offending someone's tender sensibilities.  In my previous blog, that really wasn't an issue.  I had a dedicated set of readers that posted encouraging comments and sporadic readers that enjoyed telling me to get bent.  Good times!  I've been walking a fine line since linking to Facebook.  The fear is that some of my Facebook 'friends' may not get my humor or my point of view on certain topics, so I've self-censored.  A lot.  And it has been disastrous for me.

A turning point for me occurred shortly after the Boston Marathon bombing.  I posted a comment that read:  How long before the talking heads on CNN and MSNBC start asking, 'Does anyone really need a six-quart pressure cooker?'  This, of course, was a play on what some pundits had been saying about certain guns/ammo/clips leading up to the gun control vote.  The post was parody, but also designed to get people to think...why do we attempt to solve problems by skirting around the root of issues and going balls out to assign blame on inanimate objects and pass ineffective laws?

Well, this post set someone off and for some reason I allowed this person's hysterical and nonsensical reaction to influence me to the point of deleting what I had written.  I've regretted doing so ever since going back and reading our message thread about my post.  Unfortunately, I let someone's illogical and emotional reaction dictate my opinion on what I should and should not post.  As time passed I realized that I have been actively going out of my way to avoid posting on FB or writing in this blog anything that might be controversial or remotely interesting. I've stifled myself and that has turned something I really used to enjoy doing into a chore...worse, it made me boring.

Now, does this sudden burst of self-awareness mean I'm going to start dropping F-bombs all over the place as if they were fire bombs over Dresden?  Of course not.  It also doesn't mean that I am going to go out of my way to be offensive just to be offensive...or profane...that has never been my style.  I do have opinions though, very strong ones that not everyone agrees with, which is fine.  I welcome disagreement and opinions that differ from mine, as long as they aren't the rantings of conspiracy theory fever swamp apes or melodramatic mewling.  I've no time for either.

            

The Long And Winding Road

Hey, long time no posts from yours truly here.  My apologies.  It's been a busy couple of weeks...where shall we begin?

Howz bout we start with the beginning of the Pescado family Spring Break road trip.  When the Pescado parents moved to Utah last October I told them I'd try to visit them when the girls were on Spring Break.  Before making that promise, however, I told The Better Half I'd take her to see Shania Twain at Caesar's Palace.  I figured I'd take care of two promises I vaguely remembered making with one long road trip.

We left Washington last Saturday (4/6) morning during a driving rain storm that stayed with us all the way to the Utah border.  When we hit Utah all we had to contend with were some strong head winds.  In fact, wind was a central theme of the trip down and back.  The mighty Expedition handled well, but MPG suffered in a big way.  During last summer's trip to California we were averaging close to 15 MPG, this trip I never got higher than 13.8 MPG.  Battling through wind had the engine working harder, the higher altitude didn't help either.

The drive on Saturday took 13 1/2 hours because the girls are quite possibly the greatest road trip kids in existence.  We only had to stop three times on the way down for gas/potty/stretch breaks.  They never really pestered us about when we were going to get there, and didn't ask for anything at the crazy Pilot travel centers.  Now, even I was surprised that they didn't want any toys or games at Pilot.  Those places are nothing but one big giant impulse buy shopping centers.  They carry everything from bungee cords to CB radios to Funyuns to movies starring Kurt Russell you didn't even know existed...basically, everything and anything a homicidal trucker on a three state killing spree needs to keep himself entertained.  The only real moment of concern was when Maddy asked me why the loudspeaker kept announcing that so and so's shower was ready.  I just told her that truckin' is a dirty job...but left out the part about dead hooker blood not being able to wash itself off....

Our drive home was equally uneventful outside of more strong winds that were sometimes accompanied by sheets of rain, snow flurries and blinding dust storms east and west of Boise.  The stretch of highway between the Utah border and Boise, ID is what hell most look like, minus demons with fiery pitchforks running around.  That may be the most singularly unlovely stretch of highway in the western United States...flat, windy, dusty, and nothing to see but tumbleweeds.  Every other portion of our trip provided some scenery to gape at...and occasional wildlife, such as elk heading in Cle Elum, deer in Oregon, and dead coyotes in Nevada.  The only wildlife we saw in southern Idaho were crows and magpies.  That just isn't an enjoyable stretch of highway to drive....

Oh, we did get stuck on Snoqualmie Pass Saturday night, crushing my goal of being home before 9pm (We left SLC at 8:20 that morning and I was pushing the 'long way to go, short time to get there' Smokey & The Bandit meme).  Due to blizzard like conditions, several accidents, and an avalanche, we spent quality time together as a family for 3 1/2 hours near the pass summit.  Luckily, the kids had a movie to watch and were tired, so they fell asleep...TBH and I posted updates to FB and Twitter about our status.  Thankfully, we were in the first group to get escorted over the pass by plows and the State Patrol, so we were home before midnight...but the Bandit would have been disappointed.

Still to come, recap of our Vegas trip, my near disastrous hair of the dog moment at The Palms, a Shania Twain concert review, and more on the greatest 80's cover band I've ever seen in Vegas....!

Perler Tricks

After a particularly...discouraging day at work, I had a few choices on how to purge myself of the sour mood I was in when I got home.  Option one was nothing more than pouring myself a pint glass of Maker's Mark and drinking myself into an alcohol induced semi-coma.  Being unconscious would have made it nearly impossible to dwell on the mind-boggling events that transpired earlier, but since I'm way out of whiskey practice I would go from coma to dead in a hurry...and there would be barfing somewhere in there as well.  Not good times.  My second option was to internalize and suppress my close to boiling over emotions below the surface, keeping the lid on that pressure cooker filled with disbelief and ineffectual rage until something minor and unrelated to the days events set me off like a mixture of nitroglycerin and weapons grade plutonium...something minor and unrelated like stepping barefoot onto fake vampire teeth one of the kids left on the floor.  The third option was to just say 'eff it', talk out what happened with The Better Half, and come up with a plan to address it all...and then sit down with her and Maddy and create a colorful creation using perler beads and a fish pattern.

I went with the third option, but that came with a whole new set of frustrations.  Perler beads are, in a word, bullsh*t.  For someone with less than dainty hands, they are a biznatch to manipulate.  Placing them on the pattern requires the deft touch and subtle dexterity of a surgeon.  I am not a surgeon.  My hands are beaten, gnarled atrocities that cramp up using chop sticks if I'm not careful.  When the beads do finally get placed on the pattern, so much as breathing on them unseats them from the pegs.  Then there is the ironing.  Due to my time in the Air Force, I can iron like a mofo.  What I can't do, however, is follow simple instructions...such as only turning the iron to medium heat.  I set the iron to razor sharp crease on the dress blues and partially melted my fish creation.  Luckily, that was only one side....not so lucky was my decision to pick my melty plastic fish up.  It was hot...and melted plastic sticks to skin.  And that's all I have to say about that.

Anyhoo, being stooped over a pile of perler beads took my mind off work.  Now I'm just thinking about the throbbing pain in the middle of my shoulder blades and the back of my neck.  So I have that going for me...

I'm not going to recommend perler beads as a stress reliever to anyone...but if you do want to partake in an activity that will frustrate you in an entirely different manner than whatever it was that angered up your blood, then perler beads are the way to go.  Buy them here!    

A Band Called Death

O.M.G. I must watch this documentary...and I must watch it NOW!!!!

Computer Blue

A couple of items...one, trying to post using my iPhone.  This is kind of awkward.  I'm not all that good at using the touch screen.  Two, I think my PC at home is dying a slow miserable death.  That means my photo back up project is going to have to pick some steam.  Why do I think the PC is dying?  Well, it is super slow to boot up, even after cleaning out temp files, scanning for viruses and malware, defragging the hard drive, and streamlining the apps to kick on during start up.  The computer is also randomly shutting down and tries to read the CD drives even when they are empty.  Lots of driver errors are popping up as well, mainly with the sound card...and because it is a Dell, said sound card is integrated.  I could take it in to the local guy at the bottom of my hill to provide a proper diagnosis...but that costs dollars I don't want to spend.  I also don't want to spend money on a desktop, especially a Windows based one...but criminey Apple notebooks and desk tops cost a fortune.  I'm thinking a laptop or a tablet...but has anyone out there in nine reader land successfully moved away from a desktop/laptop setup to tablet only?  Am I crazy to think a tablet can be used for productivity and not just consumption? Let me know if you have made that move...

Update On The Black Mamba

Checked the cardboard under the car this morning after pulling out of the garage...not a drop of oil to be found anywhere.  Only moisture was some water directly underneath the AC line from condensation.  I apparently drove home from the shop with the AC on last night.  Anyhoo, this is just baffling and I'm beginning to wonder if the Grease Monkey goombah failed to tighten or seal something correctly.  I feel I may have tipped my hand to the dealership as well.  I think I may have been too specific when I took it in.  Instead of saying, 'I think I have an oil leak' I may have said, 'I think I have a bad oil pan gasket.'  That gave the service manager the green light to confirm a diagnosis I was in no position to make.  Either way, it was a bad business move so eff those guys.  They won't be getting any more business from me in the future....

Burning The Midnight Oil

Some of my faithful 9 readers may remember that I got rid of the faithful Toyota Camry because it sprang so many oil leaks due to so many failed gaskets and seals that repairing them all was financially silly - the cost of the repairs totaled more than the worth of the car.  So, I traded the Camry in and picked up a 2006 Impala Super Sport (SS for short), a surly 300+ HP V8 of a muscle car hidden behind a bland facade of GM's mid oughts exterior design malaise.  She may not look like much, but she's got it where it counts...just like the Millennium Falcon.  So it has that going for it....

I quickly dubbed the Impala the 'Black Mamba' because the car is black and it's fast.  Not the most original name, but a name none the less.  It has been relatively trouble free since I've owned it, but about 3 months ago I began noticing the tell tale signs of an oil leak.  I took it in for an oil change and the goober at Grease Monkey confirmed my fear - an oil leak from the oil pan gasket.  A few weeks passed after the oil change before I took it in to my local Chevy dealer for an estimate.  Oil pan gaskets run about 28 bucks, but labor pushes the repair north of 800 bones....throw in a broken motor mount and we are looking at a cool grand.  The dealership service department also said I needed two new battery cables (OEM cables run $200 bucks each), and the transmission cooler hoses replaced.  All in all, I walked out of there looking at $1800 in vehicle repairs.  A decision had to be made...do I sink money into the Black Mamba chasing an oil leak around, or do I just trade it in on a new car.  Criminey, domestic automakers are stuffing so much cash on the hood and trunks of their cars that it almost makes sense to take on a cheap lease for 24 months...or does it?

I've been unable to decide what to do about the Black Mamba.  So, it's been spouting oil like the Spy Hunter car up and down Auburn streets for the last few months.  The Better Half mentioned my car issues to a co-worker and he recommended a small independent garage down the road.  I took it in today to have them look at it...and low and behold, they can't find an oil leak.  The car was two quarts low on oil when I brought it in, but for the life of the tech that worked on it a leak can't be found...not from the oil pan, not from the filter, not from the valve covers, not from the rear main seal.  He changed the oil in the car, added a UV dye and drove it around for about an hour, hoisted it up in the air, and came up dry as a bone.  Which is just effing crazy because the cardboard I placed underneath it to protect the garage floor looks as if the Exxon Valdez ran aground on top of it.

Needless to say, I was incredulous and perplexed.  How could my car suddenly stop leaking oil?  It's nonsensical.  At one point I even argued with the tech a bit and stated that I had physical evidence of a leak at my house and two different mechanic types told me that my oil pan gasket was bad.  This probably offended the gent because he fired back with, 'I don't sell people sh*t they don't need, your car doesn't have a leaky oil pan gasket.  If you want to spend $500 dollars to have it replaced, I'll replace it.  You don't need it though.'  I backed off and thanked him for his honesty, but that I was confused by it all.  He walked me back into the shop where the car was hoisted and had me look underneath.  No evidence of a leak.  The frame was clean, the engine block was clean, the exterior of the oil pan was clean.  He even broke out the black light to show me that no UV dye was detectable.  I thanked him again, he brought my car out front of the shop, and we settled up for the oil change and his time.

He asked me to send him a photo of the cardboard in my garage when I got home, and I obliged.  I'm supposed to take my car back after putting a 100 miles on it.  He'll add more dye and hoist the car up again, but he is adamant that I don't have a leak.  While he didn't come out and say that the dealership was trying to rip me off, he did suggest that they weren't being totally honest.  Oh, and the $400 battery cables they tried to sell me because I had some corrosion on the contact points?  He cleaned those off and recharged the battery for $12.00...so, yeah. I won't be taking my car to that particular dealership for service of any kind again.

I'm going to check the fresh cardboard I put under the car when I got home for evidence of a leak.  If I see something I think I'm going to email the following Leo Kottke tune to the mechanic that worked on the car today...he has a pretty good sense of humor and he might even appreciate it:

Linkedin Fueled Random Air Force Story

A very strange connection recommendation came across my secondary Linkedin profile today, a name I haven't thought of since December of 1988.  I had to stop and do a double take because I didn't think there was any way possible that guy could still be alive.  By that guy I mean quite possibly one of the creepiest, strangest, and all around disturbing individuals I have ever met...and I have met and kept company with an assortment of strange people in my 43 years. 

I'm not going to mention that guy's name because it is a very unique name.  A quick Google search returned a 'there in one person in the United States named......' and it has to be him.  He hailed from the hinterlands of Wisconsin, somewhere near the Canadian border.  I don't remember the name of the town, and frankly, I don't care to remember.  Somehow he wound up in my Air Force basic training squadron, sleeping in the bunk below me.  That's how I made his most unfortunate acquaintance. 

That guy was the first person to get noticed at boot for all the wrong reasons.  He was tall, gangly, pale, and had these Marty Feldman like bugged out eyes.  His walk was more of a skulking glide and he sort of hunched over.  After he received his standard buzzers with no guide military indoctrination hair cut he resembled Nosferatu.  It was an unnerving resemblance. 

Due to our last names being next to each other alphabetically I had to endure standing next to him in a lot of lines.  He didn't smell right, giving off a sickly sweet odor that was unpleasant.  He didn't speak much, but when he did it was almost a stream of consciousness outburst or non sequiturs such as, 'I like cheese curds from home because it's so quiet there.'  Words fell from his mouth like dead fish being emptied from a net...lifeless and limp. 

During our in processing medical exams the nurse freaked out a bit because that guy's temperature kept reading low.  I think the highest temp reading they were able to get was around 96.5 or so, but a couple came in around 95.8.  That guy was then whisked away for further testing, but he was returned to our squadron by lights out...and then things really got strange.

That guy slept with his eyes about 3/4 of the way open.  The reason I know this is because he scared the living piss out of the poor airman from a more seasoned flight in our training squadron that pulled guard duty our first night.  He was doing his rounds and his flashlight caught that guys pale face with his partially open eyes.  The guard thought he was dead and kind of freaked.  I hopped down from my bunk and took a look at that guy and thought the same...then he made a strange gurgling sound in his throat and woke up and smiled in a manner that can only be described as unholy.  His smile was 80 proof nightmare fuel.  That guy explained to us that he sleept poorly and that his eyes lids fluttered open due to the bugged out nature of his eye balls.  We accepted this explanation, but then I had trouble sleeping knowing that a freak was staring up at me all night through unseeing sleep eyes.  Not. Good. Times.

When reveille played not so bright and early at 4:30 the next morning, that guy did not wake up.  As the rest of the flight scrambled to get uniforms on and bunks squared away, that guy just laid there like a corpse.  One of my fellow trainees asked me to shake him to wake him up, but to be honest I didn't know whether I should shake him or drive a stake through his heart.  I really didn't want to touch or be near him, but he wouldn't move.  Finally, after several pensive and tense moments, I reached out to shake him by the shoulder...but he leaped up before I had a chance to shake him.  He stood up out of his bunk as if nothing was amiss, dressed himself, squared away his stuff, and fell into formation...

The routine above lasted less than a week as that guy washed out in a hurry.  He couldn't do anything right, think Private Pyle from 'Full Metal Jacket', but vampirish and rake thin.  The drill instructors hammered away at him for an entire day, but he was incapable of responding to motivation of any kind.  At one point our DI stepped out of character and attempted to engage that guy person to person, but even that failed to get through to him.  It was the strangest thing I had ever seen.  A sense of relief swept through the flight when the DI announced to us that that guy had washed out.  I believe the DI was relieved as well...

To this day I don't understand how that guy not only got recruited, but passed physicals and MEPS screening.  He had no business joining the Air Force.  One member of our flight had met that guy before at an Air Force recruiting event in Wisconsin and said his impression of him at that time was that he was more or less normal.  What happened to him between that event and when we all were thrown together in San Antonio for boot camp is a mystery.  Perhaps he was stressed beyond belief, causing his blood sugar to plummet.  That might explain the deathly pallor, low body temp, and what not.  Everything else though was all him....

I won't be adding that guy to my Linkedin connections...   

A Kinda Sorta Great Wolf Lodge Review

We made our annual trip to the Great Wolf Lodge on Sunday as the girls had Monday off.  I always have a decent time at the GWL, mainly because I get to spend time with the kids in the wave pool and the various slides.  Jossy was an absolute trooper, conquering her fears of the Howlin' Tornado and mastering the lily pad challenge.  Maddy is still the cautious one of the bunch and Katelyn is rambunctious, but limited by height requirements.  Still, there was plenty to keep the girls and The Better Half and myself occupied.  The arcade is a blast and I loved playing some of the games with the family.  Winning tickets is secondary to the experience of it all.  Watching Katelyn and Jossy on the virtual roller coaster was hilarious.  The room itself was clean, the bed comfortable, the temperature just right...standard hotel fare, no great shakes but still more than acceptable.  The water park was clean as well, the lifeguards attentive and squashing all horseplay or shenanigans in the pools from getting out of hand.  

With all of the above being said I still feel obligated to warn families that have never experienced the Great Wolf Lodge.  There are...things going on there that you will never see at any other hotel or amusement park setting such as: 

- An abundance of regrettable tattoos on even more regrettable body parts

- An overwhelming feeling that half of the patrons won't be making rent next month as they used that money to fund a weekend at the GWL

- Packs of kids under the age of 10 wandering the hotel unsupervised playing a money suck of a game called 'Magic Quest'

- Shaky parenting bordering on abuse, the likes you will not see at Disney parks or Six Flags

- Sh*tty little kids trying to bully smaller kids by cutting in front of them in line

- Anything remotely resembling customer service, apathy rules the day at that place

The last few points are definitely worth expanding on as they are the more serious of my observations.  During our stay we saw one mom pin her child (probably around 6 years old) to the wall by his throat.  Had she asked for the whereabouts of the ambassador and missing Death Star plans I would have mistaken her for Darth Vader.  Lots of kids get dragged around by their various limbs, there is yelling and carrying on that is most unbecoming.  Not all the parents behave like buffoons, but enough do that it is noticeable.

Some of the kids are not cherubic bundles of joy either.  I tried to make it a point to walk up to some of the slides with the girls as there were several kids that pushed and shoved their way to the front of the line.  That behavior was met with some, uh, 'coaching' from me on proper queue etiquette.  The Magic Quest game compels kids to wander the entire hotel, running in and out of stairwells, ducking into elevators, and generally making a gigantic nuisance of themselves.  It's not uncommon to hear a gaggle of kids running up and down the hallways at midnight or later, slamming doors and carrying on as they run from one 'quest' to the next.  The resort supposedly has a quiet time that starts at 10:30pm, but it is not enforced.  It's also absurd that parents let their children run amok in a hotel with extremely lax security when it comes to entering the building.  Basically, any one can enter off the street and no one will say anything to them.  Only exterior doorways to the hotel are locked and can only be unlocked with a wristband/key, but we saw several propped open.  Unsupervised children and security best described as lacking is a recipe for disaster.  I've seen more stringent security at Chuck E Cheese...    

The front desk staff are all either severely under-trained or just don't give a woodchuck's ass about customer service.  The lines are slow, no one can answer a basic question, and God forbid you call down to the front desk to arrange for a late check out.  I have no idea what is so hard about extending a check out time by an hour, but the last two times we have stayed at the Great Wolf Lodge that request was muffed badly.  Even better was the combative front desk employee that wanted to argue whether or not I called down.  Be prepared to be underwhelmed.  Anything resembling competency is a win.

The Great Wolf Lodge could be an excellent experience with some tweaking.  Don't go expecting resort service from the staff or resort behavior from some of the patrons.  Bring your own food and bottled water as well, I wouldn't recommend eating on site as it is pricey and mediocre...but there is a Starbucks on the premises, so they do have that going for them. 

Mowin' Em Down

And so begins the Battle of the Weeds: 2013 - I mowed the lawn yesterday, the first lawn mowing of 2013.  There wasn't any fanfare or ceremony to celebrate the occasion, just a couple of yanks on the mower starter cord that was met with stony silence.  Apparently, I managed to end last year's mowing season without a drop of gas to spare in the mower tank.  Not a bad thing, unless all of your gas cans are also empty and you really don't want to make a run to the gas station.  So, what does one do?  He collects up all the gas cans in the shed and tips them upside down in an effort to collect enough in the mower tank to complete the job he started out to do.  And that's what I did.  I have a motley collection of gas cans and the bottom of each can held juuuuuust enough gas that I was able to eventually fill the lawnmower....kind of like how Mel Gibson filled the tank of his bitchin' muscle car in 'Road Warrior' minus the rough trade gay dudes chasing him around and a wolf boy with a razor sharp boomerang. 

While mowing the lawn I was able to appraise and assess the threat posed by insurrectionist weeds, mainly of the crabgrass variety.  Last year's war of attrition left an untold amount of collateral damage that is...unfortunate.  Patches of dead grass are the wages we sometimes reap when waging total war against weeds.  Scattered amongst the dead grass and burned out crabgrass colonies lay plenty of healthy grass blades, but I'm going to have my work cut out for me again this year as I noticed some new species of weeds I had never seen before.  Organic weed & feed isn't going to be enough....

To support the brave partisan grass blades, I put down a decent enough of organic lawn food.  Now, if you've never used organic lawn food please take heed - it reeks something awful...like a wood block used to clean fish and a compromised septic tank.  It's bad.  The lawn food also throws off a decent cloud of dust, so if you are using a broadcast spreader be prepared for the foul smelling dust to get all in your clothes.  Now, the lawn food works great, your grass will grow and be happy...just don't expect a deep green that comes from using Ironite or any product that contains a combo of nitrogen and ammonia.  Personally, I try staying away from Ironite because it will stain your sidewalk and driveway if you aren't careful.  However, nothing works better to give grass a deep green color...

As far as the weeds go, I'm not sure what to do.  I don't like putting non-organic stuff down on the lawn because the kids go out there barefoot in the summer.  The right combo of chemicals and next thing you know one of my kids turns into the Toxic Avenger.  Not good times.  Organic weed & feed is weak sauce as it doesn't really kill weeds as much as it tries to talk them out of growing.  It's completely ineffective.  I may have to hit the lawn with hardcore stuff early on before it warms up and then switch over to organic products later in the summer...or just have the whole lawn ripped up and cement poured to replace it.

I may have finally succeeded in killing my Meyer's lemon tree.  I forgot to bring it inside or under cover last night and there was a had freeze.  That may have been enough to push the poor little guy over the edge.  It was looking pretty sad when I got home from work today.  Yeah, it was sunny and unseasonably warm this afternoon, but a freeze is a freeze and citrus trees don't dig the cold.

Keeping this one short and snappy as I am kind of wiped out.  Had to write reviews last week, a task that always sucks the life out of me.  I hope this post met expectations.... 

And The Beat Goes On...

I dislike battling out service issues with large corporations.  While whatever grievance I have may get addressed, at the end of the day nothing will be solved.  Large companies, especially those that sell appliances or any other 'big ticket' item rarely own the entire customer experience.  You buy from the Big Box store, but the delivery team and warehouse will more than likely be contract players that aren't officially tied back to the Big Box.  They have no skin in the game, so to speak, therefore they have no real incentive to not beat the living piss out of your floors when making a delivery.  It's not as if the Big Box store is going to fire them.  Yes, they will issue forth sincere apologies for the inconvenience and cut a check or gift card for damages, but nothing will be changed for the better. 

Online shopping has definitely taken a big bite out of the retail pie, but brick and mortar retail do themselves no favors by not owning the customer experience from start to finish.  Contracting out delivery may save a couple of nickels, but the dollars going up in flames when consumers decide to shop elsewhere next time add up.  Big Box retailers, should they wish to remain in business, would be wise to adapt the following:

1.  Own the transaction from start to finish.  No more farming out the work to low-bid shops.  Nothing good comes from that.

2.  Hire and train your staff to know your products.  Tape measures are not detonators.  If your sales staff can't answer simple measurement questions then they shouldn't be selling appliances.

3.  Retain and promote individuals that actually care about the job they are doing.  The floor manager at the last Big Box store we were at was a one man wrecking crew.  Whatever he is being paid isn't enough.

4.  Follow up when you say you will follow up.  A simple phone call solves many, many problems and alleviates negative perceptions if person calling is sincere in wanting to help...even when they can't.

And that's all I have to say about that!
 
So, the Oscars were on last night.  I didn't watch most of it as I cannot stand the self-importance of the entire affair.  Actors are dullards, for the most part.  They read other people's words aloud, and they can't even get that right...otherwise there wouldn't be directors.  The work of an actor is neither brave nor harrowing, it's role playing.  Why they behave as if their job is the single hardest job in the world is beyond me...and why we have a night set aside each year to kiss their asses as they contort to congratulate themselves is a mystery as well. 

Seth McFarlane wasn't a bad host, but he held back.  Why he didn't tear the entire premise of the Oscars apart limb from limb is beyond me.  His restraint was obvious, which is why so many jokes and gags fell flat.  If there ever was an awards show that needed to be skinned, flayed, and tossed into the flames it would be the Oscars.  That's what makes Jennifer Lawrence awesome.  Yeah, she's happy she won, but she's sees award season for the overwrought dipsh*ttery it is.  Here's hoping she stays grounded and doesn't fall into the same trap that seems to have swallowed Lindsay Lohan whole....

99 Bottles Of Beer...

During the Great Appliance Debacle of 2013, many things around the house became askew.  The garage suffered a tremendous amount of disorganization as we attempted to make room for appliances we were getting rid of, appliances we received in error, and appliances that never even showed up.  (Thanks again, Sears!)  As I shuffled things around the garage I had to make use of various items, such as a cooler to empty out the freezer before the refrigerator could be moved.  The biggest cooler we have was still filled with bottles of Corona from the disasterpiece of a b-day get together I had.  Those had to be taken out and because I never knew when Sears was showing up with stuff different from the stuff we had purchased, I just kind of put the bottles of Corona on the garage floor.  This planned worked well...until yesterday.

There's a long convoluted story about me trying to repair the passenger side mirror of the Black Mamba up to what happened when I tried to clean the garage, but that's a story for another time. Just know that I'm still driving with only one working side mirror on my bucket due to my super genius move of clipping the frame of the garage door a while back.  A job that looked so easy on the instructions I received with the replacement mirror was confounding, to say the least.  Every single bolt and screw on the Black Mamba are of different sizes, even if they serve the same purpose.  When I went to remove the door panel I discovered I needed special door panel removal tools that I do not own.  Much cursing took place as I struggled to remove the door panel...so much cursing that if F-bombs were fire bombs my garage would have been Dresden.  Anyhoo, I never removed the door panel, but I left a mess in the garage...my ego and self-worth as a half-assed wrencher still lie crumpled in the corner near the LED candy cane lights...

When the girls and I returned home from their gymnastics class yesterday evening, I attempted a quick clean up of the garage.  During said clean up attempt I managed to knock over a Corona bottle, as I reached to stop it from toppling over I tipped another bottle over..next thing you know three bottles of Corona exploded in the garage.  Now, a 16 ounce bottle of beer doesn't look like much until it detonates and showers everything in a three yard radius with barley pop...three don't even seem that daunting until a river of middling Mexican beer is flowing like a mini Rio Grande snaking across the garage floor.  However, the reality is that three bottles of beer contain quite a bit of liquid...and glass...

I did my best with the glass, but I was mostly concerned with the beer.  I opened the garage doors, doused the floor with several 5 gallon buckets of water, and swept the place clean.  This morning the garage still smelled like a bar rag though, and it probably will for eternity.  Stale beer is just an odor that never really goes away and is a distance third only to cat wizz and bong water, in that order, when it comes to smelling offensive.  Come summertime the garage is going to stink like a wino that stumbled upon a cache of Foster's oil cans and a family sized bag of Chili Cheese Fritos.  Not good.  I suppose I could take some Purex or something and swab the place out again...or maybe we'll just move.

Moral of the story- never clean the garage after being disappointed by a big box appliance retailer.  Nothing good comes of it.  

You Want Outlet Prices....?

You say you want to save a few bucks on appliances, so you visit a scratch and dent store...like the Sears Outlet or something.  Sure enough, they have all kinds of appliances from refrigerators to dishwashers to LCD televisions, and all of them are deeply discounted due to the following:

- They are aesthetically challenged, meaning they are as the name implies..scratched and dented, some profoundly, some superficially, but they are flawed appearance wise

- The item is simply overstocked at retail locations and they have to move them, profit margins be damned!

- The item is a return, meaning someone else didn't like it...congrats, you just bought a fridge at a glorified garage sale!


The Better Half And I attempted to buy a new refrigerator at the Sears Outlet, and so far it has been a most unpleasant experience.  Apparently, outlet prices come with outlet service...not so much from the sales staff (the manager at the Tukwila location is a miracle worker, Sears is not paying him enough to keep that place from imploding), but from the delivery side of the equation.

Our refrigerator was supposed to be delivered on 2/14, along with our ding and dent dishwasher. I took that day as a work from home day so I could keep an eye on the delivery guys as they carried stuff in and out.  Around the time the fridge was supposed to arrive, I received a call from the delivery team stating they couldn't find the fridge...because refrigerators are so mobile and all that, it probably scurried away.  They asked to reschedule for Saturday, but the dishwasher was on the way, so I didn't burn a WFH day for absolutely nothing.

We spent Saturday patiently waiting for the fridge.  When it arrived the delivery team was surly and out of sorts.  There were more issues locating the oh so elusive fridge, but they finally wrangled it onto the truck.  Here's where the real fun begins.  Since I had no real idea what time they were arriving, I didn't empty our existing fridge.  The delivery team was all pissy about having to wait for me to remove bags of frozen vegetables, freezer burned peas, and condiments from the fridge.  They became even more agitated when I asked for them to not bring the new fridge in until I cleaned the space where the old one had been, something that took me about 5 minutes to do....

I gave them the all clear signal and they brought the new fridge in...and it was gargantuan.  We looked at and were sold a counter depth fridge, had it measured by the sales staff and confirmed it was counter depth, it was stickered as counter depth, and our fargin receipt said it was counter depth.  What we received was a 31 cubic foot fridge, one about the same size as a fridge/freezer you'd see at your local morgue.  All of this explains why the fridge was so hard to locate...the delivery team was looking for a counter depth appliance, which they could not find.  So I guess they grabbed the nearest one to the door and hoped we wouldn't notice. 

The delivery team refused my refusal to accept delivery of the new fridge and set about hooking it up...even as I objected.  When I told them to haul the thing out, they said they couldn't because they were out of time (must be a union shop) and had to move on, leaving me with a fridge I could stuff the bodies of at least two decent sized hobos into...should I be so inclined.   Luckily, we had a guest over when the delivery team pulled their stunt or I would have gone into a full-blown berserker rage on them...we're talking the Hulk crossed with Wolverine with maybe a little Mr. Hyde thrown in for good measure.  There would have been carnage had I not kept my wits about me as I didn't want to terrify our guest.

At the moment, I still have a Battlestar Galactica sized fridge sitting in the kitchen and our old one wondering what it did to be relegated to the garage.  The Sears delivery team is supposed to be over sometime tomorrow to haul Gigantor back to whatever netherworld it sprung forth from.  While they are here we are also going to discuss the lovely gouges in the floor the last team left as a reminder of that debacle.

What have we learned from this episode?  Sometimes, it isn't worth saving a buck or two shopping at an outlet store for big ticket items.  Maybe springing a few extra bucks is the price you pay if you want the items you paid for actually delivered.  We are taking a break from fridge shopping, but when back in the hunt we'll be going to Lowe's or Home Depot...    

Bash & Pop

Remember back several weeks ago when I posted that every appliance in the house decided to become self-aware and began waging a war of inconvenience against me?  Well, the machines lost, baby!  Okay, they didn't lose, but they are being replaced by appliances that will appreciate a stable home.  We bought a new fridge and dishwasher from the Sears Outlet, better known as the ding and dent store.  Every appliance in that joint has an aesthetic flaw ranging from superficial scratches to profound dents.  All of it is new, but mishandled and suffering from Outlet store low self-esteem.  Like the jelly shooting water gun on the Island of Misfit Toys, these new appliances will just be happy to be appreciated for not randomly freezing everything in the fridge while thawing out everything in the freezer.  And should the fridge or dishwasher decide to act up, they know what fate awaits them...being auctioned off to the first random freak that answers our Craigslist ad.  Appliance heaven help them should their behavior lead to such an excruciating awful end...

In other news, I forgot my lunch today and took the day off from the gym to give the ol' creaky knees a break.  Rather than serve penance and not eat lunch I decided to have pho.  It took me a while, but I'm finally eating pho with chopsticks and not asking for a fork like the culturally insensitive round eyed d*ck I used to be.  Now, I hate chopsticks.  They're stupid and inefficient, especially for eating what amounts to be noodle soup.  Why Asians insist on still using chopsticks is beyond me, but hey, I work in the International District so when in Chinatown do as the Chinese do...and eat soup with chopsticks.  Where was I?  Oh yeah, so...I'm not racially insensitive anymore.  Yep.  Anyhoo, I finally decided to squeeze lime into the broth today and it was pretty good.  However, I think that's as far as I'm going to take my pho experience.  I don't see my trying beef tendon pho anytime soon.  The menu doesn't specify the sort of tendon being served up either...is it an Achilles tendon...patella tendon?  I'll stick to my 'beef' of questionable origin and hope none of it is being imported from the EU or UK.

I will leave you with this: The Grammys were on a few days back and they were as ridiculous as ever.  To illustrate how meaningless the Grammys have become, check this out - The Beatles won a total of 11 Grammys, but 3 were for best album cover, and 2 were for engineering, meaning 6 were for performances.  The Rolling Stones have won three Grammys, one being a lifetime achievement award in 1987, another one in 1995 for best video, and one more in '95 for rock album of the year.  Queen, The Who, Tupac, Bob Marley, Led Zeppelin, Run DMC, and Jimi Hendrix have won a grand total of 0 Grammys.  Taylor Swift has been awarded 7 Grammys.  The same Taylor Swift that can't carry a tune and plays a banjo the same way kids mime playing guitar with a tennis racket has been handed more Grammys than Radiohead, arguably the best band of the last 20 years.  Now, I understand that music and art are subjective, but sweet mother of sassafras, is anyone going to be digging out Taylor Swift albums 10 years from now in a non-ironic manner?  Yeah, I didn't think so...now I'm going to chase kids off my lawn and complain about the price of gasoline.     

The Band Perry

Hey there...what's up?

Anyone that has spent any time on my blog or follows me on Twitter knows how I feel about a majority of today's popular country music, especially the idiotic dreck put out by the male's of the genre.  Turn on any country station right now and you'll hear songs about beaches, hanging out in Mexico, flip flops, and sand.  Male country, um, 'artists' are churning out the musical equivalent of 'Beach Blanket Bingo'.  It's ridiculously stupid.  The biggest offender of this trend would be cartoon turtle faced Kenny Chesney, but there are others that have followed him down that path as well.  Unfortunately, the other trend in male country songs is the dumbass novelty song, something everyone's favorite albino Sasquatch, aka Toby Keith, excels at.  He could put out a double album of his imbecilic cartoon country...and people would buy it.  So I guess that particular joke is on me.

If you want to hear tough country music with some heart, grit, and soul, you have to turn to the women.  Firecrackers like Miranda Lambert are doing what they can to keep country music from digressing to mindless party anthems.  Carrie Underwood has also turned up the guts and sass now that she has let Jesus take the wheel.  And while old school icons like Dolly Parton and Loretta Lynn aren't afraid of dumbing it down to turn a quick buck, they can still bring it as witnessed here and here. 

I was kind of late coming around on The Band Perry, mainly because the two male members of the band look like they walked off the set of an off-Broadway Syd & Marty Kroft Bugaloos tribute.  Their first single didn't do much for me either as it just sounded and came across as another country song by a cute girl fronted band.  The I heard 'If I Die Young' and I was just floored by the sincerity and honesty of the lyrics and melody.  Lead singer Kimberly Perry wrote what I consider to be one of the most beautiful songs I have heard from a mainstream country artist, Bugaloos be damned.

Their debut album is rock solid, but I'm seriously looking forward to their next release as The Band Perry have been working with Rick Rubin.  The first single was released a while ago, but I'm just now getting around to writing about because I'm wildly inefficient and inconsistent.  'Better Dig Two' is the first track, check it out below....

Steer Clear Of The Everclear

Saturday night was one of those nights where things escalated quickly.  I didn't stab a man in the heart with a trident and no one burst into flames, but a relatively easy going get together got away from me.  In a hurry.

Had I just stuck to Adam Carolla's Mangria, I might have escaped Saturday night unscathed.  Unfortunately, TBH decided to break out a mason jar of demon drink her cousin's husband brought over - it's called 'apple pie', and it is unholy.  The warning on the page I linked to is understated as apple pie does not sneak up on you, at least it didn't sneak up on me.  It hit me like a runaway 18-wheeler.  About 5 minutes after taking my first pull from the jar I may have started speaking in tongues.  The gathering broke up soon after, but the apple pie had just started with me. 

I vaguely remember going to bed after drinking a pint of water and a bottle of coconut water (it has more potassium than a banana!), but soon after I was in the throes of unspeakable nausea.  Then came the throwing up.  After about an hour of that unpleasantness I went back to bed, but then I started to worry that I might wake up blind.  I was pretty sure the creator of the apple pie used Everclear (hey, you can buy it from Amazon!), but one can never be too paranoid that he didn't buy the stuff from a North Bend moonshiner.  Luckily, I didn't wake up blind on Sunday morning, less lucky was the fact I was in full on Def Con 1 hangover mode.  I couldn't even keep water down for more than a few minutes and I was bed-ridden until 1:30 or so.  TBH was a trooper and kept bringing me water, but it was apple juice that finally quelled the unruly partisans storming the governor's mansion in my stomach.  Around 2pm I took an ice cold shower (not sure why I did this, just had a hunch that shocking my system with cold water would clear the fog from my head...and it worked!) and rejoined the rest of humanity.

I wasn't much fun for the first half of the Super Bowl yesterday, and I apologize to my guests for an understated performance.  I was about as animated as the corpse in Weekend At Bernie's until I got two bottles of coconut water and two pints of lemon water in me, then I started coming around.  By the fourth quarter I was letting zingers fly as the Niners came storming back only to fall short.

This morning was a wee bit rough as well, and my face told yesterday's sad sack story.  I look like I was in a cage fight with a Kodiak bear.  Dry-heaves are a mofo and did a number around my eyes and my abs are really sore, so I guess I worked my core muscles...winning!?  Even though I was still really worn out I did still manage to run 2.5 miles today to sweat the blood toxins out once and for all...looking forward to REM sleep tonight.

The lesson in all of this?  Nothing good ever comes out of a Mason jar your better half's cousin's husband brings over.  Like David Lee Roth, I've been to the edge and I stood and looked down...and no amount of preemptive coconut water and/or PowerAde will keep you from tumbling over.  Learn from my mistakes!         

Golden Slumbers

Maddy attended her first slumber party Saturday night, which of course filled TBH and myself with all kinds of anxiety.  She has spent the night at a friends houses before, but for some reason the slumber party was a bigger deal.  Perhaps it's because her attendance was in question up until the day of the party itself as 9 year old kids are really crappy social planners.  See, there were at least 3 different Maddy's that were invited to the party...a couple of Madelyns and a Madison.  My Maddy never received a proper invite because the b-day girl throwing the party was told by Maddy that I knew her dad and we would work it out.  Well, I do know her dad, I met him during 3rd grade field day last spring.  That's it.  We aren't besties, exchanging recipes for apple brown betty or anything like that.  I don't even remember his name, but Maddy recalled me meeting him and that was that...which means we never received a proper invite.

TBH and I found out Maddy was invited to the slumber party the night before when Maddy dropped it during casual conversation, but we had no phone numbers to call and no address.  Maddy assumed I had worked everything out with the birthday girl's dad and vice versa.  Luckily, the mom of Maddy's best friend got all parties involved to actually talk, and everything was worked out.  Otherwise, TBH and I were going to be undertaking some serious emotional damage control if Maddy would have been unable to attend....

...but the crisis was averted, Maddy attended and took part in a scavenger hunt at the local mall, a TP assault on a neighbor's house, and the thrill of staying up way too late.  All activities were reportedly fueled by shrieking and copious amounts of Red Vines.  When I picked her up Sunday morning she looked tired, but very happy.  Nothing traumatic happened, no one was snubbed or had their feelings hurt...it just sounded like a residence full of 9-10 year old girls that refused, for the most part, to go to sleep.  In the end, TBH and I were relieved she had a great time...and that the party did not take place at our house.

Eggs Benedict Arnold

Sometimes I make decisions that are truly baffling.  Most of the time these decisions lead to nothing more than having to explain myself in great detail to others.  Other times there are consequences, some serious, some annoying, but usually never painful.  This morning I made a breakfast decision that resulted in great discomfort...and I'm still recovering.

Today was the company National Sales Meeting. I'm not in sales, but the team I'm on develops the relationships and account plans that supports the sales team.  I won't get into details because that would be boring.  Just know that I'm not in sales.

Anyway, there was a breakfast buffet at the hotel where the sales meeting was being held.  Breakfast buffets are a weakness of mine.  Scrambled eggs, toast, pork products of every imaginable kind...what's not to like?  Well, this being Seattle someone always has to get too clever by half and Pacific Northwest up a recipe.  The result today was eggs Benedict served over crab cakes.  In theory, that's not a bad combo.  I love eggs Benedict and have been known to enjoy a crab cake from time to time.  What isn't good in theory or reality is to come in on the tail end of a breakfast buffet and partake of undercooked eggs and crab cakes that have been sitting around in a tepid warming tray for an undetermined amount of time.

A couple of hours after my ill-advised breakfast I got hit with searing stomach pain, dizziness, and nausea.  By the time I left to catch the train, I could barely form a proper sentence.  Luckily, I still had my Alka-Seltzer stash in my desk, so I downed some and that took the edge off.  Otherwise, it was going to be a very interesting train ride home as I honestly felt like I was going to heave my pancreas.  It was not good times.

It was touch and go when I got home, but the worst seems to have passed.  Still feeling a little lightheaded and really wiped out, but I don't think I'll be doing toilet bowl pullups anytime soon.  So, winning!  However, next time I'm presented with the option of eggs Benedict served over crab cakes at a breakfast buffet I am going to pass.  Instead, I'm going for the chicken fried geoduck and poached eggs.  What could go wrong there?   

Know When To Say When

Sometimes I stumble across a story that at first glance should not anger up my blood.  The a small detail emerges near the end of the story that red lines my rage meter.  For instance, the story of Roger Strong, the back country skier that had to be rescued from Snoqualmie last year after triggering an avalanche.  As if being buried in an avalanche weren't bad enough, his legs were smashed against a tree and he spent three months in a wheelchair.  It's been a year since the accident and his recovery story is being sold as 'inspirational', and it very well may be.  However, what cheesed me off is the fact that he is married and has a very young daughter yet will continue to back country ski after having a near fatal accident.  Strong even admits he's lucky to be alive, but states that not being able to back country ski would be like depriving him of the oxygen he breathes by 50%.  Yes, well...how 'bout this Rog...next time you trigger an avalanche you may not be so lucky and the results would be depriving your daughter of 50% of her parents.  I understand that back country skiing is a 'passion', but why not channel some of that energy into sticking around for your kid?  The time to take chances with your life ended when you became a parent...imagine the impact your death would have on your family and your daughter growing up without you.  If you were a single guy, hey, I'd say great job on the rehab and you've got more guts than I do by returning to what nearly killed you.  But you aren't a single guy, you are married with a young daughter...continuing to pursue your passion is just selfish.

Well, wasn't that a peachy way to start this post?  Hmmm, what else has me riled up...oh yeah, Manti Te'o.  So, first off, I'm renaming my fantasy football team Fake Dead Girlfriend next year.  That's low hanging fruit that needs picked.  Secondly, wow...Manti is either the dumbest person to ever play linebacker for Notre Dame or incredibly and unbelievably naive.  I've heard just about every side of this story and I still think he was somehow in on it.  There's no way anyone is as stupidly naive as he claims to be.  Manti Te'o was more than willing to share details of how he met his dead fake girlfriend, things they did together, etc., when the story advanced his narrative.  As the story collapsed he turtled up and now wants us to believe that he was too embarrassed to admit it was an online only relationship and they never actually met.  If that were the case, why exploit the living piss out of that relationship all season long?  That's still the part that makes no sense - he pumped this up as Love Story, Part II and hooked a lot of people into believing him.  I feel he played a part in perpetuating the hoax and his involvement will be discovered by private dicks hired by the NFL during the vetting process of potential draftees.

I'm glad to see the fog has finally begun to dissipate.  Getting to work the last couple of mornings has been more of an adventure than usual due to icy roads.  I almost piled the Black Mamba up into a row of parked cars getting out of our neighborhood.  Luckily, the tires caught a bare spot and I was able to safely navigate the car without incident.  The fog also seems to amplify the cold, so standing around and waiting for the train to arrive hasn't been fun either.  I'm also just sick of the gray, fog makes everything look dilapidated and hung over...walking through the thick air makes me feel as if I'm strolling through a BBC production of yet another Jack the Ripper story...minus the homicidal slasher attacking and hacking ladies of the night.

If you get a chance, check out Leo Kottke's cover of 'Sweet Emotion'...lots of guitar noodling for those of you that enjoy such things.

Cheers!