Brixon Ivy

Bring out your dead!!!

2011-11-28T14:47:00.001-06:00

In my lifetime a Zombie apocalypse is most assuredly going to happen, and when it does I shall be ready for it. I say this with the same level of confidence I normally reserve for knowing that if I am ever aboard a commercial flight whereby both pilots have succumbed to Acute Bavarian Diverticulitis, I will be able to ease behind the controls and bring that puppy in, all 200 tons with souls on board unscathed. How? Simple...I own a pirated copy of MS FLIGHT SIM 2003. As far as zombies are concerned, that's mere child's play in comparison. Zombies, (Walkers, for you purists,)are simple creatures with traits that require specific rules of engagement. Once all of those rules are clearly understood, surviving is limited by only ones creativity and preparation. But how does one prepare? Movies. Lot's of 'em.Since the first time I saw Barbara laugh off the warning..."they're coming to get you...!!!" I was hooked on all living dead. I'm far from alone. Zombies seemingly have become the hottest cold cut the little shop of horrors we call Hollywood has to offer, and based on all things undead out there, we don't seem to be leaving the menu any time soon. YUM! I have been wondering lately why zombies seem to be so popular, and I have a theory. We can probably thank sexy vampire movies with stories revolving around horny supernatural monster teens trying to get in the pants of vapid valley girl ho-bags. Team Dumbass, anyone? For the rest of us post pubescent non female types, zombies not only appeal to us on a horror level but fend off any wandering interlopers from the Twilight camp with an effective display of shotgun blasts, splattered blood and rotting flesh. It's a win win, and operates on the same principal as offensive odors emanating from one's man cave. Enter at your own risk.Zombie flicks have come a long way since the original life challenged wobblers first whined for "Braiiiinnnnnsssss..."in the 60's. With each movie borrowing or expanding on a previous idea, zombies have evolved, devolved and changed countless times, with few exceptions, but almost all are defined by the following rules. 1. Zombies may not all eat brains to survive, but they do need them to walk. A head shot is the only way to take one down.2. They were dead before zombification, and not just Princess Bride "mostly dead", but dead-dead. 3. They infect others with a bite, usually while trying to eat the victim.4. Zombies attack the living only...not each other. 5. Loosely placed boards over windows and doors can keep them out of buildings.* 6. They must eat constantly, and are never not hungry. 7. All zombies are mindless...devoid of emotion or reasoning. (* All makeshift barricades will fail over time. Usually moments after a plan is hatched to escape the building before they get in. ) Luke and I spent this fall eagerly awaiting Sunday evenings, when we could turn off the lights, sit on the floor in front of the couch and catch the latest episode of "The Walking Dead" season 2, on AMC. (This was officially season one for Luke, since I had decided it was only right to keep him from such nightmarish images until he was at least 12, or until he could successfully pass level 6 in CALL OF DUTY Modern Warfare/Zombies. Being father of the year? work work work.)Suffice it to say we have been marinating in the rotting entrails of the undead for long enough to know how to handle any world wide outbreak that might spread. Luke is the sniper and weapons expert, (NERF,all models) I have the home front, and the girls? They are in charge of eye rolling and wandering off to catch up on Barbies and Real Housewives. As for the rest; 1. The house...We live inside a Boulder with windows. The outside walls are 10 inch thick formed concrete. Covered in small granulated stone flake, they are solid, abrasive and awesome. Any zombie trying to gnaw his way thru them will be turned to grated zombie Parmesan. 2. The Windows...Standard 2 pane brittle cracked old house glass, incapable of not breaking all by themselves for no good reason, let alone under the strain of hordes of brain munchers. No worries...we have...3. Scrap wood. I have a garage full. As any zombie aficionado is aware, the standard method of sealing off entrances to a residence during a crisis is hurriedly, with a tack hammer, bent rusted nails and scrap wood. Check check and check-4. Duct tape. A few years ago, I took a free CERT course given by homeland security here in Palatine. It was during that class that we learned what all the fuss was about duct tape. Using it to seal off cracks in the windows and doors keeps out any potential gasses and viruses let loose accidentally or by terrorists. Since BOTH are the preferred method by which all zombie apocalypses start...we are safe. I have 40 rolls.Now it's simply a matter of waiting for it all to go down...and when it does, look for us to be on the roof, giddily taking out the neighborhood, one walker at a time.

Cleveland, Ohio

2011-10-17T12:59:00.001-05:00

Cleveland is a strange and depressing place. People seem to move about the city with sort of a bewildered amble, as if they can't believe they got left behind. There is no polish here. It is rust stained concrete and old timey looking store fronts. There are loading docks and warehouses and mismatched architecture and weeds. It reminds me of my grandfathers basement workshop in a way. A lot of old but useful and needful things, hoping to be remembered. Faded signs and ancient streetlights hang overhead. Below, cracked pavement and patched potholes obscuring traffic lanes. Some of the streets wind around small valleys which seem to promise a view as you approach, then pull a bait and switch when you arrive and show instead the skeletons of some industry left to decay. There are car shops and muffler shops and submarine sandwich places everywhere, broken up by the occasional shot and a beer joint. Kids leaving school do so in a hurry, loudly bypassing the playgrounds and disappearing into the folds of the neighborhood. There may be a vibrant nightlife here, but it was planted here, like a pacemaker in a damaged heart. Nothing here is dying, but nothing feels really alive.

Farewell Steve Jobs

2011-10-06T20:46:00.001-05:00

And thank you...

A facebook farewell...

2011-09-27T14:18:00.001-05:00

About 8 years ago I quit smoking. I think it was about 8 anyway, I made a point not to make a point about it. It was the 3rd serious try at it and it stuck. I am now a non smoker, and for that matter an anti smoker. Watching two parents die disturbing deaths will do that to a guy. Watching dear, young friends continue to smoke makes me sad, and angry. If I could do it, they can, there's no question. Addictions are different for anyone, and having seen both sides of the wonderfully calming yet disgusting deadly side of smoking, I know one when I see one.
Facebook is becoming one. I suppose it's just a small part In the overall Internet addiction, but it's growing, it's number of followers are growing. It's reach and intrusiveness is growing, and I want no more part of it. I'm freaked out by it now, the number of pictures of my kids I've posted. The sheer amount of information we all share is staggering, even if we are just occasionally dropping by. Facebook has big plans, however, and they include nothing less than tracking our every move. Paranoid? Yeah, maybe a little. In my high school library, a sign hung over the desk that said in ominous text and tone BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING! Never In my wildest did I imagine we would be him. 8 years from now I might be blogging about how 8 years prior I had quit facebook. Hopefully, by that time, my lungs AND my head are both In good health.

Bridgets. 9th B day sleepover

2011-09-24T22:15:00.001-05:00

D R A M A. omg

Later Facebook

2011-09-22T12:19:00.001-05:00

Giving Zuckerberg a time out until the latest awful, bloated, unwieldy version sheds some of its trinkets, do dads and widgets. A nice blank sheet and a keypad is about my speed now, I'll catch up on other peoples every second later on.

2010-12-27T07:30:00.001-06:00

Merry Christmas!!!

Yep, the card is late…sorry, it seems to get later every year.
Next year’s Christmas card will come around August (right after I send out our 4th of July invitations.)

Hopefully this letter finds you in pre, present or post holiday merriment and joy! We are doing our best here to keep the meaning of Christmas above the stress and craziness that goes with it all.

We all started the year out with a trip to see the Grand Canyon and catch a pre-season Cub game in Arizona. If you have not yet seen the Grand Canyon, it should be high on the list…”amazing” just doesn’t cut it.

Luke and Bridget are rocking in the report card department, and Mary has graduated to “Destroyer” earning her black belt in ROOM TRASHING and BOOK RIPPING. We are keeping an eye on that development.

This year’s card is a little different. I wanted to share with you one of my favorite things to do, and because of that, this card comes with specific instructions. Before turning this page over, please prepare by completing the following steps.

1. Get a nice hot cup of coffee or tea. (For those of you on the North shore or West coast, you may substitute a Grande double decaffeinated alfalfa mocha latte half-caf or whatever the current popular coffee house nonsense makes ya happy!)

2. Gather the current newspaper, find your favorite place to sit on a quiet afternoon, spread the paper all around your feet and read the funnies. Include these funnies. This is a collection of some memories and moments from the past year, in funny pages format. I always hear we should be in the funny pages…so be it!

3. Fall asleep.

(EXTRA CREDIT) When you’re done, and it’s time to clean up the Christmas clutter-give this to the kids to color, fold into Christmas origami, start a Yule log… hey it’s your card, make something up!

4. Have a Merry Christmas, and a wonderful New Year. Our wish for you is that you always find ways to smile, and laugh at yourself. (We will continue to laugh at you. Laugh…and point.)

Love…Ken, Jill, Luke, Bridget, Mary and…no that’s it…ANDERSON!

R.I.P. Mr. Santo

2010-12-03T13:21:00.003-06:00

Today the Chicago Cubs lost thier biggest fan, and Cubs fans lost the best ally they ever had to ward off the 100+ year blues.
Thanks Ron, for your charity, your selfless work for JDRF, and for your inspiration.
Thank you mostly...for the laughs!

From one die hard to another...

A New Brew Review: Saint Bridgets Porter

2010-07-07T21:59:00.005-05:00

I guess it's time to take my beer snobbery to a new level...Brew Reviews. Why the hell not? Afterall, most reviewers have not the first, slightest clue about what they are reviewing. (Okay, thats MY opinion, and this being MY blog, my opinion is all that matters. Deal.) That being said, since I have no expertise in all matters beer, (aside from a family history of over indulgers and a spanking beer belly starter kit,) I'd say I'm perfectly within my rights to give you a well balanced review. And let's be real, if what I type can get you to TRY a nice IPA instead of a case of MGD 64 or some other GOD AWFUL SWILL...then my work here is done. Until another beer comes my way.

SO HERE GOES KIDS...MY FIRST BREW REVIEW!
NAME:SAINT BRIDGET'S PORTER
TYPE:(ROBUST)PORTER
BREWER:GREAT DIVIDE BREWING COMPANY
DOM/IMP:DOMESTIC,DENVER
COLD/WARM:COLD
BOTTLE/CAN/GLASS/OTHER:GLASS
WEBSITE: http://www.greatdivide.com/

SNOB REVIEW: Porter's , or stout beers, are not my favorites for a few reasons. Dark, peppery or chocolaty notes are hard to pair with anything for me, especially cold which is how we Yanks drink 'em. Secondly, porters are heavy, slow beers that don't lend well to pounding, and have a hard time following each other at all. (Okay unless you are a soccer hooligan. I'm not.) Most porter's I have tried have a flat finish and dead weight along with the dark root beer coloring. This beer did however stand out just a little. Very little head, dark body and open airy aroma on pour were all present, but the harsher notes were not at first sip. A pleasant, clean, malty finish that almost disappears after a sip or a slug. Most beers with that nature are watery or cheap, but this was not in the least. It simply has a full body with little left to say afterwards. I'd pair this with BBQ ribs or a nice steak and taters, or maybe a swordfish. I'd be careful with chicken, despite what the label suggests.
Overall rating: 7 out of 10
REGULAR GUY REVIEW.
This is one of those "black" beers, like Guinness. It smells kinda skunky and taste's like licorice a little bit. Big chugs taste bitter, so you should sip it until you get used to the taste. You'll want to look like you know what your doing if you order one up, so get it in a glass, because no matter how cold the damn thing is it'll taste warm in a bottle. Tilt the glass slightly and pour quick, the foam wont pop up too much.
SHOT PAIRINGS: Jagermeister. Chugability: 1 out of 5

OTHER/SPECIALS:According to the label, St. Bridget was the patron Saint of Ireland known for transforming her bathwater into beer for thirsty clerics. This may explain the silhouette of a curvy girl dancing on the label. Why, I have no idea.

The Luke and Billy show!

2010-06-29T23:46:00.011-05:00

WHAT A GAME!!! WHAT A GAME!!! WHAT A GAME!!! DATELINE; JUNE 29TH, PALATINE IL
WHITE SOX VS. ORIOLES
Memories are sometimes made from moments that appear in the blink of an eye. The video below is only 30 seconds long, but it shows 30 seconds that will stay with us for a lifetime. It's a grainy, shaky video of a baseball game played June 29th during the Palatine "World Series" game. Billy, Lukes best friend, had got on base and proceeded to steal second, then third!. "Thats a start!" we called...one run was all we needed! It was the bottom of the eighth, extra innings for little leage. A few seconds before the video was shot, I was scrambling to get the phone from my pocket and turn on the recorder. "LUKE HAS ANOTHER CHANCE!" his aunt reminded me. ANOTHER! It suddenly hit me...I turned to reply, and noticed the crowd had doubled. The other baseball games had ended, curious coaches and parents strolled over to see the end of the big game. Some of Luke's past coaches were there, "What's the score? Who's at the plate? Tied? Wow, exciting game!..." Exciting was an understatement. The sox had taken and lost an early lead, and watched the other team steadily add runs. But in the 5th Billy made an awesome double play at third, and in the 6th they started a comeback. With bases loaded and 2 strikes, Luke had plinked one up the middle. Two were in, the score was tied, and I strutted over to Jill..."He did it! He tied the game!" I was beaming. Nothing else could have made me more proud, afterall he had told me he was nervous before he got to the plate. I suppose he had reason to be nervous, his Grandpa was watching, too. Grandpa,or 'Coach' as his kids still call him, had been working with Luke on his swing. He had put what he had learned to good use. If nothing else happened, I couldn't have been happier for him. Now all we hoped for was an extra innings win! LUKE HAS ANOTHER CHANCE!" was ringing in my ears. I scrambled for my cell phone, there at Home plate was my son, watching a kid fire fastballs at him like a pitching machine. "VOOM! BALL ONE! VOOM! STRIKE ONE!" It had become very quiet, I clicked record. 'VOOM..STRIKE TWO!"- "Yer swingin' early Luke! Yer swingin' early! his teammates chanted. "EYE ON THE BALL BUDDY! KEEP YER EYE ON THE BALL...

MAYHEM!!! "THAT'S MY BOY!!!" I called...
I don't remember how far the ball went, or where it landed...30 feet, 430 feet...it didn't matter. A sweet "PING" and the ball dropped before it was touched somewhere up the middle...
Billy chugged across home plate and turned to mob Luke with the rest of the team. One of Lukes coaches slapped me on the back "GET OUT THERE!" he said... I met him at the fence, wanting to grab him and hug him and squeeze him and embarass him...but settled for a hair ruffle and slap on the butt. His smile said everything, and he saved his big hug for his Grandpa, "Coach", sitting in the front bleachers. A few moments later, the Ump handed Jill the game winning ball. "Mrs. Anderson, this belongs to you." Tears all around. 30 seconds are on the video...but the moments I never captured will stay with us forever. Luke was over it by the next day, there was a summer of fun out there, and he and Billy had plans, and both of them were done answering questions, but I suppose that's how it's supposed to work. Every time I bring up the hit, Luke reminds me of the run...It was Billy who got crossed the plate, afterall.
Congrat's to the Palatine 5th grade White Sox! You ALL made us proud!

Faboo

2010-02-05T15:12:00.000-06:00

Down with the Flu...boo hoo.
Luke and I both got whalloped. So much for not being sick all year.

I have the urge to start bloggin' again, and once I think of something to say I will. Until then, chicken noodle soup, sleep, and NyQuil dreams await...

WOW...JUST....wow..

2009-01-13T21:23:00.005-06:00

Thanks Russ, for the flashback.
You will pay for this!!!
Jim Fucciolo, me and Russ Huebner
Graduation day 1986
York High School.
(Not pictured, my Duck shoes and the Duckster glasses.)

Party like it's Dec.21, 2012

2009-01-09T23:32:00.002-06:00

Here's what scares me.

A few days ago I upgraded my beloved yet outdated flip phone to a brand new shiny hot mess of touch screen techno-coolness. Not only does this thing have built in GPS,Mp3,Video player, blue tooth and of all things...T.V. (complete with a retractable r2d2-esque antenna) But I'm told by a few people "in the know" that it makes...get this...PHONE CALLS!

All for about a hundred bucks, give or take a hundred bucks for chargers,carrying cases, blue-toothy ear thingies and plastic screen covers to protect the existing plastic screen cover.

Not bad...but what amazes me the most isn't what comes WITH the phone...but what comes seperatly. A memory chip, one quarter the size of a postage stamp and costing less than $15.00.

A memory chip that can hold 100 cd's worth of music, a few hundred pictures and even some video...give or take. No moving parts...no lights, batteries...nothing fancy...just a thin flake of plastic and magic that clicks into the side of the phone. And I bought the cheap one.
Whoah.

So what's next? More memory, cheaper.
Every year, roughly, the technology to store data doubles while the price decreases. If I'm blown away by this little chip, I won't be able to comprehend what we are in store for in ten years...that is...if we are still around at all.

Which brings me to the title of this little blurb...go ahead and google the date 12/21/2012. In short, the Aztec calander ends on that date...and so,ironically, does the I-Ching prophecy.
Perhaps by that date, the machines we create will have taken over, thanks to all that memory.
Or, maybe... they will just erase all the crap we have been downloading and replace every Megabit with Air Supply.
Either way...the world ends.

I constantly smell smoke when no one is smoking

2008-12-12T22:07:00.002-06:00

Of all the stupid problems someone could have, this is the one I get stuck with.

For the past few weeks, I have been smelling cigarette smoke regardless of where I am, or what time of day it is. To add to the problem, my eyes sting as if I were sitting in a dark corner bar filled with smokers while drowning my sorrows in a tall Jack and Beer chaser, only without the ambiance.
This sucks, because I used to smoke.
I quit because, among other things, It stunk. NOW I can't get away from it.
And I have to suffer without the benefit of the smooth, relaxing calm that comes from a long draw on a short red. Nope...just the stink, like an old ashtray left is the rain.
Like my car USED to smell like.

Here's the kicker, when I say constant...I mean constant. Usually, a person gets accustomed to a particular smell, given prolonged exposure to it. But this is maddening.
It's ever present, like Chinese water torture, it won't go away.
So, after I decided I was going nuts, I Googled the problem on the off chance one other person had the same stupid problem.

Boy...I am not alone.
Go ahead, Google "smell smoke when no one is smoking..." and read up on the matter.

Seems like there's a lot of me...plenty of symptoms...no cures. No advice.
Woo hoo.

Something about Mary

2008-12-08T20:42:00.012-06:00

Every proud father brags, I'm no exception. But after three kids, a lot of things that once seemed ultra important and all consuming seem to fall by the wayside ever so much.
When Luke was born, I videotaped or photographed every second of his life, it seemed.
The same with Bridget, since she was daddies little girl. Then came Mary.
Poor Mary, I feel like she's getting Jipped. Of course, much of my time has been spent pounding together Luke's new 'Greg Brady' bachelor pad and basement bathroom, not to mention my full time job as Captain Everything.
Something tells me that once I'm done milking this project as an excuse to buy more tools, I'll be back to playing jr. paparazzi.
In the meantime, Here's Mary Catherine.

Mary "Buzz" Catherine

Going home, now and then

2008-11-17T18:48:00.001-06:00

This entry was to be posted in '06 but got "lost"...silly me.
They say you can't go home again. I agree. For one it would be a pain in the ass for me to try, seeing as how "home" for the most part was always a choice between here or there. If anything, I had "homes"...a second floor above my grandparents, a few roach infested dumps with mom, an apartment with dad, then a house for the school years, another with my mom for the summers...on and on it went. I have revisited those years with limited interest in the past, mainly because I don't notice the years slipping away. I always assume there will be time to sift thru those memories later, then life happens to get in the way a little here and there...suddenly the occasional fading picture found at the bottom of a shoebox brings back a flood of strange memories or feelings. Of all the years I recall with any regularity, my high school years are the most confusing to me. A few weeks ago many of the people I graduated with got together and celebrated 20 years since we all parted ways. I kicked around the idea of going a bit, but in the end decided against it for one simple reason. I don't know those people anymore.
In fact, I never knew those people.
I shared 6 full years with them in all, from my first awkward moments coming to a new suburb and school in 7th grade, to the day I grabbed my barely earned diploma and ran for daylight with the urgency of a diver surfacing for air. I ran from that school, and those people, from that history and those memories, from that house and that suburb and all of it. I was a square peg from day one, no matter how well I faked it and "fit in", be it in some artsy clique or team...I didn't belong.
A few days ago I drove through that old neighborhood and down near my old school. It was nice to see certain things have not changed, like our old house. It looks as if we just left, with the exception of some lace curtains in my old basement bedroom window. It was also nice to see that some things had changed, entirely. What absolutely did not change was that stale,chilling feel of being a perpetual visitor. Every moment I spent in Elmhurst felt as if I were watching the world through a pane of glass. I could get close, but close was close enough, then I would catch my own reflection staring back. I was by no means depressed living in Elmhurst, although compared to how my life turned for the better afterwards it's safe to say they werent the best years of my life. They were the growing up years, the ones where it's hard to fit in your own skin, let alone a(nother) new location. And afterall, I did make at least a few good friends. One of the few people in my life I ever met that not only "got" my warped sense of humor (my defense mechanism against all that raging teen angst) but bolstered it with his own brand of insanity. I met him the same way most people meet each other...shortly after he punched me, squarely in the nose.

It was an accident,of course. Jim Fucciolo, or "Fuch" (careful now, it's pronounced FOOOOOSH)is Italian, and by virtue of his heritage must speak only whilst flailing his arms about in wild animated fashion. This serves two distinct purposes. One, it gives a visual punctuation to accompany the story being told ... and secondly, it effectivly lays out flat any attempt to sabotage said speaker from a sneak attack from behind.
I honestly don't remember what I was doing walking up behind him, but I do remember the momentary flash of knuckles shortly before hearing..."OOOH...oh..uh...you ok?"
As luck would have it, Jim not only had a wicked backhand, but was a master at stopping nosebleeds thanks to having been tormented by them most of his life.
Our friendship grew quickly, and before long we commandeered out little corner of the school. The jocks had the football field, the brains had the Library...we...owned Art Staff... holding hostage it's residents as our captive audience for about an hour or so a day. We both had our talents, not the least of which was driving our otherwise unflappable teacher insane. He and his battle worn Jeep got us to and from school, and the occasional trip to the mall and everywhere else for that matter.
We suffered through psychotic G-I Joe looking gymnastic coaches and one or two insane girlfriends (one in particular,who,after telling me she wanted to date other guys, dropped Jim's name as candidate number 1. Jim replied by laughing, stating that nobody in thier right mind would date her...and then added..."except for you...of course...!") My dad got a kick out of him and his Jeep with the rusted snowplow, it's shovel complete with huge snarling teeth and blood red tongue.
Jim had lost his own dad early in his life. I remember trying and never quite being able to understand what that felt like...to lose someone that close. At the time, I had both parents in reasonably good health. The closest relatives that had passed in my life had done so when I was too young to comprehend. Jim kept memento's of his father, a luger and some other firearms. One thing he kept in particular I remember quite well. A flag, folded in a triangle honoring his dads military service. Now that I have one for my own dad, I can understand how deep that loss is, but only from an adult perspective.

Hanging with him was good for my soul, I have come to realize. He was a good friend, and for all intents and "porposes" (just for the halibut)my best friend in high school.
I had all those memories in my head when I finally decided it was time to find him again. It was about 15-ish years since we last spoke. A lot has happened in that time. I got married, had 2 kids, bought and sold a house or two, and lost both parents and grandparents. I wondered what those years did for him. I hoped he was married with kids, and that his mom was ok, that he made millions inventing some useless info-mercial trash.
I found Jim's family with a little Googling and some luck. I sent a greeting, crossed my fingers, and a few days later, got a reply. His new wife sent a note saying I had found him...and gave a number.
I felt like a kid again...

Babies, Scooters Cubbies and Birthday's

2008-06-01T10:19:00.002-05:00

Four little blogs for the price of one!

Mary
Mary slept thru the nigh last night for the first time. She's an eating machine...and has gained weight at a perfect rate. She's awesome, hardly cries,farts like a longshoreman snuggles up under my chin after she eats. Thats a feeling that can't be described. She's our last, most likely, and I hope I remeber that warmth forever.

ZUUUUMA...!
In an attempt to cut the insane fuel prices a tad, I wen't ahead and got a scooter!
YES thats right, I'm THAT guy. You know the one, thinks he's saving the earth by dressing up like a giant pez dispenser and flying down the road at a blistering 40mph (downhill in a stiff breeze)
Yep, indeed. Hell, and 125+ MPG, I'll wear a pink friggin tu-tu if it saves me a buck.
Even if the price of gas drops, I've got a pretty cool little street legal bike to play with. It seats two, but aside from swinging Luke to baseball/soccer practice or flying (ok scooting) around town, We won't be buying any junior size motorcycle leathers just yet.
I do have a great idea for a license plate tho... HRDLEY
Get it?
Anyway...
How 'bout THEM CUBS!!!
As of right now, they have the best record in ALL of baseball, are on a 6 game win streak, and played a miracle com-from-behind game to beat the Rockies 10-9 after being down 9-1 in the 6th.
I will not be jinxing them with any talk of how this season will end. I will however say that they are running like maniacs, hitting the ball everywhere and playing as a true team.
FU-KU-DO-ME! I say...
And I mean it!
The Big 4-0
I turned 40 last week.
And, as forrest Gump would say, Is all I have to say about that.

More to come, stay tuned.

HERES MARY!!!!

2008-05-01T10:18:00.006-05:00

Dear Mary,
Sorry about all the noise and bright lights, but things move pretty quick on the outside. Don't worry, you have a big brother to protect you and a big sister to help you to deal with big brother!
Even though you aren't home just yet, I'm doing everything I can to get it ready for you! (Just don't look in the basement for a few years, k?)
A few things you should know before we get get to far.
1. You are a Cubs fan. It's not a choice. If you want, that can change at 18, but until then you will just have to suffer with the rest of us. Bonus, it builds character. Lots.
2. Despite what the other 2 short people in this house say, YOU ARE NOT A VEGETARIAN.
I expect one...at least ONE of my kids to eat meat. Since you are the last in line, that you. Lucky you, I make a great BBQ.
3. You are loved!
From here on out... you will be included in, and sometimes excluded from, play time with your siblings. You will laugh with them, and be laughed at. Some days you will feel important, and some days you may feel left out. Some days this world will seem really, really big. And some days, it may seem way too small. Some days are good, and some are bad.
Thats just how it goes. We get both, but through it all, and no matter what, you are surrounded by a blanket of people who love you with everything they have. Thats how families work.
(Especially on the bad days.)
God bless you little one, welcome to the family!
Love, Mom and Dad and bro and sis.

Public enemy number one

2008-04-21T09:50:00.005-05:00

Buy American?
Save the planet? Go "green?" Do your part?

Enough talk already.
I am sick to death of empty "politically correct" catch phrases spewed forth readily yet never acted upon. I'm tired of these eco friendly bandwagon jumping nitwits who buy a hybrid Honda civic for it's gas saving ability, then slap an American flag bumper sticker on it's egg shaped ass and park it in the nearest Wal-Mart lot to "save" a few bucks. Heres a perfect example of what EXACTLY is being saved.

Website: www.walmartstores.com

A facelift and even lower prices kept the world's largest retailer afloat in a troubled economy.
Staring down the barrel of brutal fourth-quarter retail forecasts, CEO Lee Scott dramatically cut prices on 15,000 items - including popular toys and electronics - by 20% more than usual to lure holiday shoppers. That rocked the industry, pressuring other retailers to squeeze already tight margins.

The tactic worked: Wal-Mart grossed $100 billion, breaking its fourth-quarter sales record, and soundly beat Target in same-store holiday sales for the first time in nearly a decade. --Christopher Tkaczyk and David Goldman

Way to go Wall mart. Not only have you screwed the economy by forcing the bar lower, you grossed huge profits while maintaining low wages for your employees and even lower standards of living for the nearly ONE MILLION EMPLOYEES you screw, half of which CANNOT AFFORD the crap health insurance you provide.

Next time you want to be environmentally conscious, consider where you shop and what you buy BEFORE you begin looking at the waste it creates.
Saving this "planet" might start at saving this Country, and THAT might begin at the parking lot rather than the garbage can.

Or, consider this...that foreign car you bought that was "assembled" in America? Of the 30k you spent, 98 percent goes back to Japan, Korea, etc. as profits. THAT in turn is spent where? Not here.
If you were asked to send part of your paycheck to better the Japanese economy, would you?
Hmmm

Close, but no cigar

2008-04-14T13:00:00.003-05:00

...bubblegum or otherwise.

Jill's ultrasound was "normal" and the lack of proper fluid during the last result was because baby Mary didn't pee yet.

Yeah. I know.

Anyway...
We're still a go for the 29th...barring any unusual events.

Unusual as in, more than a lack of enough baby pee.

Bleh.

Early Arrival?

2008-04-12T22:06:00.002-05:00

When Jill and I went for Luke's final ultrasound eight years ago, the doctor told us his birthday would be that day, based on what little room was left for him and his big melon.
We were prepared, the baby's room was complete...the crib assembled, and we had been impatiently awaiting that moment when we would finally meet him.

Now we are doing the same thing for Mary with one teensy little baby difference.

WERE NOWHERE NEAR READY!

The basement looks more like a Katrina victim than a boys bedroom, the house is a disaster, and we have barely begun to organize baby stuff.

We have two weeks, right?
No sweat?

Not so fast. Mary is about ready for show-time...and if Mondays ultrasound shows no improvement in her current living space...well...
Lets say telling Luke to clean his room will include putting up drywall and painting the bathroom.

Wish us luck!

13 hours

2008-04-06T22:12:00.003-05:00

I'm in pain.

Everything hurts, my hands especially.

I've been at the basement for 13 hours straight, breaking only to run to home depot for lumber, and Mike's to pick up a Hilti.

Then back at it.

And what have I accomplished?
Well, to look at it, not much, but I know better.
Marty wants 2x 6's instead of 2x4's, hes got 'em. Fire the footings into the ground with a power gun instead of screw anchors? Done.
The house smells like gun powder and pine. Like some crazy shootout took place in a forest, and when the smoke cleared, a bathroom got framed out.

I wish it were that easy. But I'm running out of time, I'm always running out of time. Tonight especially.

My hands hurt, they ache like a toothache aches. Arthritis, probably. Or some other pain in the ass-in the hands.

I don't care, not yet. That comes after I'm done working...

And theres always work to be done.

Time for a shower and 8 hours of sleep...
If I'm lucky I'll get 4.

CUBS WIN!

2008-04-03T22:22:00.003-05:00

First win of the season, and no I won't be posting every one, but the first is worth it.

Luke's first baseball practice was mostly today, aside from sleet and fridgid rain, all went well.

OH did I mention, his team is the WHITE SOX?
NO?
I DIDNT?

Hm..
go figure.

FUK-U-DO-ME

2008-04-01T21:43:00.004-05:00

How awesome is it that the guy who got the first hit in Wrigley for the Cubs this season, and then the first HOME RUN has a name that most drunk guys can, and often do, pronounce in the bleachers.

Here's to you, Kosuke Fuka..Fukodu...
Here's to you Japanese Cub player guy!

Just thank god Harry's not around for THAT name!

Some random thoughts

2008-03-28T23:22:00.003-05:00

I have been meaning to sit down and really go on about the Cubs, being that spring training is coming to an end, regardless of weather or not SPRING will actuall ever get here or not, but I just have had so little time to even think, let alone type, that the best I could manage is this cumbersome, yet engaging, run on sentence.
So, some random thoughts.

1. Jeff, please don't go off the deep end! not after all the time I spent trying to find you. You are seriously tripping me out. Call me, we should talk.
2. Construction (destruction) inside the place you call home sucks nuts.
The further I get with the basement, the behinder I feel.
Behinder. Its a word, look it up.
3. I dont usually like to swear in my blogs because A) vulgarities are a sign of low brow humor and B) My sister is the only one I know who actually ever reads this and I don't feel right about swearing but in this case I simply can't help it...
FUCK SNOW.

4.I honestly can't take any more winter. I have been able to keep "the blues" at bay, but only barely and only because I've been too busy to be depressed, but Jebus this spring needs to get here post haste or I'm going to start calling Tom Skilling at his house at 3am and complain.That'll fix his wagon.

5. People, by and large, are ok...but society sucks.
I base this solely on the number of nitwit drivers I see on the roads.
Perhaps I'm just gettin older.
No...they suck. Those...people. Driver people.
Meh.

6. MEH is not a word, it is a sentence.

7. If the definition of integrity is doing the right thing when no one is looking, then the 20 something pinheads I work with have none. The amount of apathy lately among "kids" scares me. It's we went from Gen X to Gen Y to Gen y- me to now GEN-who cares.
Sad.
8. I think wanting your country to better itself on a continuous basis is the definition of patriotism. Which is why I consider myself a patriot when I say that this country is Fu@#ed. From the dimwit running the show to the fact that less than 18% of the world population has a favorable opinion of the USA (DOWN FROM 60% AND UP PRE 911/PRE IRAQ....YIPES)We need to lead the charge in world COMMUNICATION and UNITY.
But hey, you cant outsource patriotism, so I guess it isn't cost effective.
9. Love beats death.
and finally
10. I don't care who gets in the White house at this point, Im just looking forward to being lied to by someone who can construct a sentence without having to take his shoes off to count.

Overwhelmed, Over my head...

2008-03-02T22:05:00.004-06:00

Over and out...

I am surrounded, knee deep in alligators and completely out of my element.
It will pass, with time and hard work but for right now the light at the end of my "project tunnel" is nary a flicker.

I have completely destroyed our basement and begun to frame out Luke's new bedroom.
With a kick in the pants by Mike and a few good tips, I think I have a great start...if only I could keep the momentum going. Thats where outside elements beyond my control come in a f@#$ everything up.
Let's start with this miserable winter. Enough already. Snow, freeze, thaw,snow some more, freeze again, then more snow...
I can't keep up and let's not talk about my not having a snowblower that works.

I've resorted to using bad aerosols and burning oil drums full of gas just to advance global warming that much more. Every little bit helps, they say.

When I'm not shoveling (or looking for the shovel) or chipping ice from the driveway...the 100 foot long BRICK driveway...ahem...
I'm working my real job. (Saving the world, being awesome...that sort of thing. As Christian says, being fantastic is a full time Job. And why exactly am I quoting people from Project Runway? Oh right...it's the only show we watch anymore. Another reason why we don't own a plasma.)
So as a result I have big plans and bigger gaps between times when I can get any real work done.
Time is running out, I need this finished, the bathroom in and the kids rooms done by the end of May.

BWAAAHAAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

I can't wait to meet you Mary, but don't be surprised if we take lot's of naps together...
for the first couple of years, anyway.

-Pop

CUBS WIN! CUBS WIN! CUBS WIN!

2008-02-28T18:55:00.003-06:00

Funny how the winter blues, regardless of how bad they get, can be chased into oblivion with a simple game of baseball.

The Cubs played game one of the season, the pre-season opener against the Giants. They won, and so begins this years journey toward greatness. The Cubs will win it all this year, and do so with an attitude.

I'm sure of it.
Arent YOU????

:)

Cubs win!

Hula skirts, baby

2008-02-02T09:22:00.000-06:00

When you work outside for a living, you gain a true appreciation for just how much winter can suck. Right around this time every year I begin daydreaming of warmer weather, tropical weather....tropical weather and grass skirts...tropical weather grass skirts and dancing a hula on the beach with my friend Jeff wearing coconut bras...

Ah,crap... did I say that out loud?

Don't send a lame Starring You! eCard. Try JibJab Sendables!

SPRING TRAINING!

2008-01-30T07:20:00.000-06:00

15 SHORT, MISERABLY COLD, PATHETICALLY BONE CHILLING AND FREEZE DRIED DAYS UNTIL PITCHERS AND CATCHERS REPORT TO MESA, AZ!!!

This year will be a historic baseball year. Not only will the Cubs win the Championship, but they will also participate in the last ever Hall of Fame game, vs the Padres.

I need baseball. Luke needs baseball. The world NEEDS baseball.

Lets play two!

The DARK SIDE of the RAINBOW

2008-01-29T19:46:00.001-06:00

So you want to know if there REALLY is a link between Pink Floyd's groundbreaking album DARK SIDE OF THE MOON, and the classic movie The Wizard of Oz? Even for someone who worships Floyd like myself, the beginning synchronizations are hard to spot, and are wildly debated all over the internet...but a little further into the movie the similarities are chilling. (Okay, maybe CHILLING is a bit strong. Odd may be more like it.) Starting with Dorothy balancing on the fence while the song lyrics "balance on the biggest wave" and ending with Dorothy listening to the tin mans chest while the heartbeat sound effect plays, everyone who watches sees something exciting. (My personal favorite is the action scene when the house is lifted and spun...the music is spot on.)
Sit back, relax (in whatever way you choose), click play below and judge for yourself!
(If you aren't familiar with the lyrics it helps to have some notes while you watch...here's printable list of coincidences.)

p.s. No, your speakers aren't off...the music starts softly with a heartbeat and builds

Vagabond Resort, Iron Mt. Mi

2007-12-07T11:09:00.000-06:00

A recent search thru an old shoebox of photographs brought back a flood of memories. The Vagabond resort, In Iron Mt. Michigan was our yearly summer destination for the better part of my youth.
A favorite place of my grandparents and father, this collection of simple wooden cabins lined up along the shore of a man made lake was a wonderland for a kid like me.
It had everything that the big city did not. Fishing, pine trees, an old rusty bridge and lazy quietness.
It was there that I learned how to clean a fish, shoot a BB gun and catch toads without them peeing on me.
After it closed down in the late 80's, we stopped going, even though Larsen's resort was just next door. It was the end of an era, the Grandparents could no longer make the drive, and I was growing out of toads anyway.
I sometimes wonder about my friends I met there, fleeting friendships that meant so much for such a short period of time.

Mark Krajewski, if your out there, thanks for the memories!

Pictures to come.

911 Conspiracy!!! New Pretend Evidence!!!

2007-12-01T20:25:00.000-06:00

If there's one thing I hate more than a bad conspiracy theory, it's ignorance.
As it so happens, in order to buy into most conspiracy theories you are required to be very, very ignorant.
As George Carlin would say, there is such balance in nature.

Oh, sure, for those of you who do in fact ~~think~~ sorry..KNOW... that the twin towers were brought down by a controlled demolition...or that a missile hit the Pentagon...all of this is just more of the same "so called facts from the sheep who shun the 'truth'"...g'head, lemme have it!

But for the rest of humanity dealing in sanity...I have had a change of heart.

From this day forward, I will no longer get involved with, or upset at, discussions involving CT's...or the people who fill thier pathetic lives making up new ones.

NEWP...from now on...I will happily nod and smile and step slowly away...and one day they will all fade into oblivion, from whence came the IQ they possess.

And I shall post a few of the more plausable CT's. For instance, this Gem from The Onion.
Satire? Sure...and no more or less believable to a 'Truther' than anything you might see on the schlockfest that is 'Loose Change'.
Enjoy.

New Oliver Stone 9/11 Film Introduces 'Single Plane' Theory
NEW YORK—Academy Award-winning director Oliver Stone said Monday that his new film World Trade Center unveils "compelling and controversial" new evidence that a single plane was responsible for all four collisions in New York, Washington, D.C., and Pennsylvania on Sept. 11, 2001.

"There's no way anyone can ever deny there was only one plane."

"Get ready to go through the looking glass here, people," Stone told reporters at a Manhattan press conference before an advance screening of the movie, which premieres Wednesday. "The film you are about to see is going to blow the lid off the 9/11 Commission's official report and expose a conspiracy that reaches the highest levels of government."

World Trade Center, which stars Nicolas Cage as a dedicated Port Authority officer who stumbles on secret evidence amid the rubble and carnage of the terrorist attack, tells a story quite different from what Stone called "the official government line" about the event. According to the film, at 8:46 a.m., a lone commercial airliner flew diagonally through the North Tower of the World Trade Center, maintained a circular holding pattern for approximately 17 minutes, then struck the South Tower before heading to the Pentagon.

After its collision with the center of American military operations, the so-called "magic plane"—which variously and ingeniously identified itself to air-traffic controllers as "American Airlines Flight 11," "United Airlines Flight 175," "American Airlines Flight 77" and "United Airlines Flight 93"—took to the skies once again, landing at a top-secret "black-ops" Air Force base in West Virginia, where it was reloaded with a group of clones from another shadowy government program that Stone described as "shocking."

Stone, who said he did not have time to explore the clone angle in the three-and-a-half-hour film, plans to do so in the sequel, September 12.

In a gripping sequence, undercover agents transmit pre-recorded cell-phone messages intended to fool loved ones and relatives with a false cover story as the aircraft heads to its final, prearranged crash site in the fields of southwestern Pennsylvania.

Viewers of the advance screening agreed that the most striking and pivotal scene was Cage's character's discovery of security-camera footage that affirmed the single-plane theory. Showing his skeptical but supportive wife the footage frame by frame, Cage notices that the so-called "first" plane, which, according to official, whitewashed reports, detonated upon impact with the North Tower in the initial collision, actually banks "back and to the left, circling for about 17 minutes, and then diving into the other tower." He repeats the phrase over and over in increasing intensity, toggling back and forth between individual frames while the music swells and the emotional drama rises to a fever pitch.

"After seeing that sequence, there's no way anyone can ever deny again that there was only one plane in the airspace over the eastern seaboard that morning," Stone said.

"I am the most important filmmaker working today," he added.

Early public reaction to the film has been skeptical. Many 9/11 conspiracy theorists claim Stone is presenting an exploitative, far-fetched, and manipulative Hollywood version of the pain and suffering—including eye strain and carpal tunnel syndrome—they have undergone during their countless hours on the Internet in the tragedy's aftermath.

Despite the controversy, Stone stands by his film. "This is a story that needs to be told, in a reality that only I can bring to the big screen," Stone said. "I realize it will be hard to accept for those unable to confront the truth, but I can't hide my head in the sand like some goddamn ostrich. To sin by silence when we should protest makes cowards out of men.

First The Middle East...then...Sarah Connor!!

2007-11-27T21:27:00.000-06:00

After watching this report, I'm not sure if I want to buy stock in SARCOS...or begin stockpiling an arsenal large enough to hold off the T3's. (And if none of this makes sense, go rent The Terminator with Ahnold and get back to me.)

I love technology, don't get me wrong...but the days when 'science fiction' was someone's idea of the far off future are over. We are living it, or are at least on the verge of another wild breakthrough. Nano-tech looks to be the big whiz-bang sci-fi thing. Or teleportation, which was accomplished within the framework of quantum physics a few years ago. Or...could it be something more sinister? Artificial Intelligence? Autonomous robotics? It seems we are due, like it or not, for another revolution.
The internet revolution is strumming along nicely, sure...but I keep thinking any day now I will finally stumble upon the last page of the internet, as if we all collectively decided we really ARE bored with this Googling our own name, or surfing eBay for deals on other peoples crap.
It is a wonderful tool, if used properly. THATS a big if, and it's become a link to my childhood of late, a time machine of sorts.

In the past 2 years, I have reconnected with Jim Fucciolo, Jerry Thompson, Jeff Drake and just yesterday, Maureen Mahoney. (Hey MO, ya made my Blog! Oh...For Joy.)
I mean, if it werent for the internet, I don't know how I would have found them...phone? BWAHA!
Please, thats so last Tuesday!

I also connect in some strange way with my sister, who unless I am completely mistaken, is the only person who actually reads this blog.
That reminds me, THANK YOU BARB! YOU ROCK!!! SORRY I HAVEN'T CALLED!!! I LOVE YOU!

So, what do we have...a time machine, and a company making robotic exoskeletons that, by the admission of the maker, could one day become ...Autonomous.

If anyone needs me I'll be in the cellar.

Waiting.

Flying cars

2007-11-05T19:53:00.000-06:00

Yanno how old people always lament that we don't have flying cars yet?
We do.
Theyre called airplanes.

Mean Automakers Dash Nation's Hope For Flying Cars

And for our next trick....

2007-10-24T21:33:00.000-05:00

The human experience, I am coming to find, is one that can be extremely fulfilling, or paralyzingly dull. The answer to the question of the meaning of life may never be fully understood unless the person asking has really lived his life to the extent he is capable. Sadly most of us skip through life with our shoelaces untied, never really knowing what our potential could be. I love new experiences, most of them anyway...and nothing is more unsettling to me than being completely comfortable. Maybe most people are that way...always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Life however, has a way of balancing things out.

That being said, Jill is pregnant again. Some time in early May, God willing, we will be welcoming our third child.

The most common question asked by the few people we have confided in is "Was it planned? Or was it...you know..."

An accident?

The answer is simply, neither.
Jill and I were not planning on adding another child, (in fact the biggest plans we had involved adding another bathroom.)

That plan stands, however, especially now. And with it, a basement-bedroom for Luke.

And this was in no way a mistake, either. It is simply one more page,chapter,verse and subject, to the story of our lives, both together and as individuals. I'm thrilled, we both are, and nervous.

Prior to her discovering we were pregnant, I had dreamed of a child with Downs Syndrome in our family. I don't recall if that child was ours or not, but the timing was enough to give pause.

I can say this in all honesty and with unabashed pride, it bothers me not when all is said and done.
I look forward to meeting out next little baby no matter what challenges we are faced with, even if they are little more than affording diapers again.
But really, you can't afford a child, regardless of how rich or poor you are...currency has nothing to do with love.
And love we got.

Our biggest challenge...a name.
For a girl, we are set...Mary Cathryn.
For a boy?
So far...Buzz. Ahhh...trouble looms.

Home Video

2007-06-26T13:03:00.001-05:00

Britney is Dead

2007-02-18T13:25:00.000-06:00

BRITNEY IS DEAD!
Not really. But she is bald, and in a way, the Britney the world once knew is long gone. Like other female pop-tarts or her ilk, the massive crash and burn began as a pretend career, manufactured by corporations and marketed by conglomerates, processed, packaged and shoved down the throats of the gullible youth. There is a process to all of this for the people pulling the strings...cash in early and get out before the puppet wakes up.Britney woke up a few years ago, and realized that her life was anything BUT her own. In the first of many attempts to cut the strings holding her from reality, she married some dazed and confused hillbilly boyfriend from days gone by, and lived happily ever after (or at least until sunrise.)It was the warning shot across the bow of her fans, her "handlers" and her clueless parents.She was trying stand up on her own...without permission. Since then, she has tried and tried again in vain to be her own person. The strings are embedded deep in her skin. She is and always was a living metaphor for fame, better than regular, but less than human. Her name, likeness, personality, all manufactured, designed and tested. Be a virgin, be sweet...dance and sing, smile, be sexy...be Britney.Britney is dead...what is left of her lies on the floor scattered in bleach blonde locks and twisted braids.What is left is the mannequin that once held those locks in place, now a blank canvas complete with vapid empty stare and a seeming lonliness that feels paralyzing even to those of us on the other side of the tv screen. The strings are still there...but whoever was once pulling them has slinked off and slipped into the shadows...for now.Britney has a choice, and a chance. Grow up, be a mother, make hard decisions and battle for her true self...Or buy a wig, toss her underwear out the limousine window and once again try to attain normalcy by way of insanity.Personally, I think shes never looked better.Britney is dead...Long live curly.

"LOL" for a good cause...

2007-01-31T20:54:00.000-06:00

So...heres an idea...

See that long haired hippie freak up there, with the dorky grin and a half pint of Harp nearly a fond memory? Yeah...that's me.

But not the now me...that's the OLD me...a lifetime come and gone. It isn't hard to tell us apart...the old and new me.
For starters, Jill made me toss that shirt years ago. Secondly, I no longer have that long, thick, curly mane of ebony colored hair. At least...not YET. (heh heh...)

Shortly before our wedding I cut that mop off, and since then...with one brief exception, I have kept it somewhat respectable. (In some circles...and never usually the fun circles.)

Frankly...I'm bored with respectable...The fact of the matter is I DIG having long hair (to unearth and old hippie term) and based on my receding hairline...I may have one last shot at it...starting now.
There are pro's and cons to having long hair, of course...as with anything. It's a lifestyle choice, for certain...and one must be able to pull it off without coming across like a slob.
Looking back on what a fuss it was to have such a do is almost enough to make me think twice...but there is one thing, above all else...one nagging problem that I really don't look forward to...and thats simply...
"IT'S NOT FAIR!"
I got that a lot...from women. The fact of the matter is, I have really GREAT hair. For a girl.
Great for them...stinks for me. It grows thick and wavy and bouncy...it's every girls dream...
and my nightmare. I want straight hair. I want ponytail hair, hair I can pull back and tie in a knot at work, and whip out at a concert.
Instead, I have hair thats one static charge away from being a perm.
Perfect girls hair. Perfect for a little girl...
And then it hit me...
Based on that problem alone...I have made a decision. Actually, I've made two. The first is obvious. I'm going to grow my hair long again. Longer than It's ever been. Seriously...were talking ZZ-top, Jack Sparrow...Motley Crue,David Lee Roth long. (Well, before he lost it all.)
The second (and this is where the exact reason you are reading this in the first place comes in)
I'm doing it for charity.
:)
Today is January 31st, 2007. I'm 38 years old.
I plan on growing my hair without cutting it until May 28th, 2009.
My 40th Birthday.
On that day, I will have a world wide hair cutting party, and YOU are invited.
And who...may I ask.. is YOU?
YOU...are anyone who is reading this, regardless if I know you or not, regardless of where you live in the world, regardless of race, sex, political affiliation or social status. If you have hair that you can grow to a length of 10" or more...YOU are in. (Oh, and human...that's important...)
Why?
Because I want you to do the same as me. On May 28th, 2009...I will be cutting my long beautiful hair off and donating it to 'Locks Of Love', a charity that uses real hair to make wigs for sick kids.
I want to invite as many people to do the same, all over the world, young, old...male, female...you name it. All the information you need is at the Locks for Love website. (As of today, I have not contacted them, but I plan to, more info as it comes to me...seat of the pants kinda guy, yanno)
In the meantime, It would be great if you could help me out!
Send this to a friend. Send it to an enemy...
Got a Myspace account? (Of course you do, silly question.) Email all those...er..."friends" and tell them about it.
And PLEASE, Leave a comment below if you want to join in or show support.
This is all just a thought so far, but thats how big ideas start...maybe this will get big, maybe this will go viral (I'm not 100% certain what that means exactly, but I'm thinking it's good.)

Personally, I think this is a great way to accomplish two of MY favorite things...getting attention and looking like a girl.

No,wait...

Having long hair and helping kids!
Phew...close one.

Visit the locks of love website to learn more about the wonderful work they do at www.locksoflove.org
Peace, and let that freak-flag-fly!!!
Ken
Email me for more info at
lolken@ameritech.net

When the Saints come marching...

2007-01-20T09:28:00.000-06:00

I have some bad news. REALLY bad news. Any Chicago sports fan knows what I'm talking about. Any Chicago CUB fan expecially knows. This is Chicago. These are the Bears.
We are in for a whoopin'.

I realize these are fightin' words to some, especially to those die-hards who have started tailgating officially as of last Sunday...but facts be facts. The Bears are gonna get embarrassed in front of a bazillion people tomorrow and we need to steel ourselves from yet another Chicago failure.

I HATE to be this pessimistic about the whole affair, trust me. I have been soaking in the awesomeness that has been the Bears from the first kickoff when we put a hurtin' on the "don't kick us when were down" Packers. I have loved every victory, cheered for every long Grossman-Berrian bomb, and growled along with Urlacher as he wrangled down some unsuspecting quaterback. I'm diggin the Bears season, I am...but it's about to end.

Based on nothing more than these 2 rules, I have predicted the following suckfest inside Soldier Field will come without doubt.
RULE # 1.) Grossman has turned into an up-and-down QB. If he blows one game, he buckles down for the next...and turns a 0.0 rating into amazing feats of athletic prowess. Last weekend, he bounced back from a previous disaster to barely squeak the Bears past a loss. He's due for a big collapse, one of those "I give up...you beat me...let me just curl up and die" type of collapses. Expect to see Grossman pacing the sidelines with that deer-caught-in-the- headlights face during the start of the 4th while Greise tries to right the Titanic on the field.

Rule # 2.) The second city syndrome. If you are not familiar with this phenom,...phinom..with this pHEMOMEN, with this ...syndrome...it basically states that if you are a sports team in Chicago, don't expect to go all the way unless you have DOMINATED the entire season. Chicago teams don't fall into championships, they earn them. The Bears have not earned the position they are in. They had a somewhat easy season, and despite having a QB who made more completions to the other team than his own, they won games they should have lost.
The Saints on the other hand, have all the right bits of Karma in thier corner.
They are the team of destiny...the fiery Phoenix rising from the ashes of Katrina...the hope that a city needs right now.
The Bears are a stumbling bumbling bunch of jamokes trying to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory every chance they get.
I want them to win, but they can't, it simply defies the very fabric the city is built on right now.
This is why comparing this team to 1985 just sounds so silly.
Heres are my keys to the game.
Grossman-4 Picks in the first half, 2 for points the other way. Will be sacked 6 times, lose the ball twice.
Urlacher -will get hurt, hammy or groin- out for the 2nd half.
Berrian-will drop 2 in the end zone
Thomas will turn over once.
Greise will do what he always does, look good despite the swirling mass of insanity around him. He will have the only Bears TD.

And the worst?
Robbie Gould...the Bears 'goulden boy'...will miss a point after.

Final score...

Saints 34
Bears 9

Prove me wrong..guys...PLEASE...prove me wrong!!!
As always...
GO BEARS!!!!!

A letter to The Cure

2007-01-10T22:07:00.000-06:00

The Cure have been a huge part of my music life since the early 80's, and especially since high school, when a classmate since 7th grade, Anissa Balassa, graced our halls and art staff presence in full-blown Robert Smith attire on a daily basis. I had as much of an appreciation for her fondness of the band as I did for her own creativity and personality. I figured if she, of all people, saw something more to the band than I did, they deserved more attention than I had allotted. She was right. I grew to love the band and the music they made crept into my life at points when I needed it most for the next few rocky and turbulent years. Some people accuse them of being too dark, or morbid. I never felt that, any more than I felt Anissa was strange for spiking her hair and screwing up her lipstick so badly it seemed as if she tried getting ready on the bus ride to school. They were, all of them, doing what meant something to them. I spent years learning how to do that...how to be true to my own nature, to stop being the image of someone else's idea of me. Im still learning.

I suppose I'm old enough to recognize all of that now, and I cherish those years, good and horrible, as years that brought me to where I am now. Of all the bands in the 80's, 90's and on, The Cure followed me around in my car stereo, tape collections, albums and now mp3's like old friends, while other bands I once loved sometimes haunt me in the form of where are they now videos and one hit wonders.

I suppose thats why asking to be added to a myspace friends list seemed redundant. I did that 20 years ago already, they said yes. Of course, 20 years ago I was 5 years too old to HAVE myspace account, but hey, with kids ya gotta keep up with whats hip.That IS what the kids say not, isnt it?

So, thanks, guys, much appreciated. I must go be sullen and moody now.

The Christmas Letter

2007-01-08T19:22:00.000-06:00

Late, but I wanted to blog it for no apparent reason.
Enjoy, and Feliz..nablabla or whatever

Merry Christmas to all…

The return of the Benton st. Christmas Letter.

‘Twas a week before Christmas… the letter not done…

(Nor had it been started, not a single word, none!)

The words simply failed me, sans humor, nil quip…

My mind simply wandered on a long muddled trip.

I recalled the whole year, I gave it my best…

There were weddings and there were babies and…then…

What of the rest?

I thought and I thunk until I fell asleep snoring…

“Could it be?” I shuddered… “Have we become…BORING?”

“Never!” I exclaimed, “We’re the Anderson’s after all…

( So what If I make our tale…a bit…tall )

And so here it is thusly…our year in review

As remembered by Ken, and related to you…

Barb’s doing nicely in our sprawling abode,

What with her GIGANTIC master suite and gold plated commode.

She’s won numerous awards for her solitaire skills.

Her natural ability would give anyone chills.

Jill as you know runs this house with great ease…

And even takes time to earn all her degrees.

She now has her Bachelors, Masters and C.P.A

All this while running a Y.M.C.A.

Luke is our genius, and starts Harvard this spring…

After helping out NASA with some silly ol’ thing.

The Cubs want to draft him, the Sox want him too…

But they’ll just have to wait ‘til Youth soccer is thru.

Bridget, dearest Bridget…well what can we say…

Our debutante princess just has it her way.

Her ‘MYSPACE’ account has more friends than most others…

(Much to the chagrin of the other girls’ mothers.)

Then we have Charlie, the cutest dog ever…

His dog food commercials are just oh so clever.

And Spike our bearded dragon really does breathe out fire!

(Luke says so, so it’s true, since Luke is no liar!)

Fond remembrances to Spot, a giant praying mantis dad caught

(No easy task either, for three hours they fought)

We kept him in barbed wire, fed him livestock , deep fried.

Heart healthy? Not really… he keeled over and died.

And that brings us to me, the head of this house…

And everything in it, (yes, even the mouse.)

Santa just phoned, he needs an assistant this year.

My smile is required to spread love and good cheer.

But seriously folks, all kidding aside…

All of our love and prayers this blessed yuletide.

May you find peace in simple moments,

And laughter in tears.

And love that will last…for a thousand more years!

Peace

What the hell is happening?

2006-12-29T21:46:00.000-06:00

I'm watching CNN as the news that Saddam Hussein has been executed breaks.
In Dearborn Mi, men are jumping in the streets, waving the Iraqi flag and cheering. In the middle of them is a reporter, smiling, getting the joyful reaction of the revelers.
Smiling.
A man has been executed, and our reaction here in the states is to broadcast our own American Iraqi's jumping for joy.

I understand he was a tyrant, a devil. But what I don't understand is why covering the death of a human being as if it were the moment the ball dropped on New Years eve is necessary.

I have too often watched other humans jumping up and down in joyful celebration at the death of other people. I remember them doing it on 9/11...I remember them doing it around the bodies of AMERICAN SOLDIERS.

I remember thinking of them as lost, soulless people, in need of culture...in need of direction, of compassion.

I still feel that way about them, I just never thought "they" would be on our own soil.

What a shameful act of cowardice, to use one living moment to celebrate the death of another.

CNN,the reporter mentioned, and the people cheering this on should be ashamed.

2006-12-04T18:45:00.000-06:00

BMW (South Africa). Defining innovation.

"...the walls between art and engineering exist only in our minds..."

An Axl to grind

2006-11-28T22:03:00.000-06:00

EDITORS NOTE: This is my 100th weblog posting. Happy anniversary to me.
Gifts may be sent in the form of paypal cash to...
Nevermind. Back to the review...

As promised, here is my take on last night's (November 27th) Guns N' Roses show.
First, the important legal 'covermyass' stuff.
A.) I'm not a music reviewer by trade. I couldn't hold a tune with a handle and I have never learned a single note of a single song in any form ever, ever.
2.) I'm barely awake...whatever words follow this sentence exist as a result of sheer will power. Take them with a grain of salt and a shot of Cuervo, if that floats yer boat.
And finally...) I never did find my leather chaps...dash it all...

THE GOOD
We had a great time. I want to get that out there first, so there is no confusion. Jill (or "My Ol' lady" as I was asked to call her by the good Dr.) and I had a blast. It was what we considered to be a well deserved night out to blow off some steam, built up from the Thanksgiving family madness. There's nothing like a good primal scream now and again to clear the bad Chi from the inner mojo, or, whatever.
I would do it again in a heartbeat. Even the part where Jill's friend Gloria made fun of me taking notes in my little black book, in the dark, during the show. This is what little black books are for apparently when you are married. Set lists.

8:35pm Our experience started outside the Allstate arena, when the tickets we had wouldn't scan. A quick fix at the box office, and we were back in line, waiting to get frisked, probed, searched, fondled and groped by expert hands.(And after that, we still had to get through security. Badum-bum!)

Former Skid Row front man Sebastian Bach was about to take the stage and warm up the crowd, but not before the Suicide Girls had their way with the crowd first. I'm not exactly certain what a suicide girl is, per se, but if you are interested in becoming one, you will need a lot less clothes (like, none...)and WAYYY more Hershey's syrup. Trust me on the last one.
We all had our suspicions that this night would be full of roof-raising rock and roll metal head madness. After all, the legendary GUN'S N' ROSES were due up in a little while. It also crossed our collective minds that this circus we were attending, replete with a myriad of leather clad fans both young and old,(very young, some way too young)and the usual "Dude, I'm so wasted and the show hasn't even started yet" clowns, was quite possibly the next big Axl Rose drama about to unfold.
Trouble started almost on que, when alcohol sales were cut off at precisely 10 p.m., with Bach still headbanging thru half of his set. This may have actually been a blessing in disguise, since Axl was A.W.O.L. until 11:40pm, nearly 4 hours past the ticketed time. Had the entire audience known this in advance, there may have been a drunken riot when his majesty finally did show.

I have to give Sebastian Bach a lot of credit for a lot of reasons. First and foremost, he has perhaps the greatest metal voice I have heard live and in person. If you are even luke warm to skid row (or for that matter don't really like them at all) I highly suggest giving him a second listen, in person if possible.
Secondly, aside from a fun stage presence, (he can work a stage and whip some hair, for sure)he's truly a class act. During his prolonged warmup, he probably thanked 'Chicago' 5 times in various ways, not the least of which was for our patience. A favorite moment for all was when he welcomed everyone to the "ROSEMONT F*CKING HORIZON!!! NOT THE ALLSTATE F*CKING ARENA!!!)He went on to say that in his career, this particular venue was his first big crowd. He also applauded our troops, and made it oddly non-political, and more from the heart, glad they were there so we were free to rock.
THE BAD
His stage manager gave him sporadic updates during the set(one of which produced 'FOUR MORE SONGS? WE DON'T HAVE FOUR MORE...JESUS' caught on mic) and on they played. At one point he became frustrated at the delay, but took it backstage, allowing a most worthy drum solo to fill the void. Upon his return, the rocking continued, loud as hell. Until finally...
FINALLY
One thing I love about high energy concerts is the roar of the crowd when the lights flicker out...this was no exception...
The lights stayed out and the cheering ebbed and flowed as shadows crossed the darkened stage...then the 3 jumbo-trons lit up suddenly and the air was filled with the opening, echoing guitar riff of Welcome to the jungle...the familiar chords repeating then fading...repeating then fading...until the lights came up and the first power chord hit with exploding pyro-technics. The place went nuts. Axl hit the stage running and blew the doors off the song. In an instant he had changed my mind,for now... this was going to be a great show...maybe even an AWESOME show...
Maybe...
The energy was at full tilt for the next two songs It's so easy and Mr. Brownstone. He paused,said hey to the screaming crowd...and then...

Then...???

At this point, I'm not certain...but the wheels came off big time. First, Axl's voice began to give, OR the mic did...OR both. Neither were ever corrected, however, and some songs sounded as if the mic had completely quit altogether. It was about that time that I realized Axl has a very robotic thing happening. I remembered the days when he was cart-wheeling around, jumping, throwing the mic...I hardly expected that now, I mean I get it, he's older, we all are. But...he was phoning this is big time. He seemed practiced, and wooden. Maybe it was the lack of a headband. Maybe it was the fact that he now dressed less like a rock star and more like Bono.(No disrespect to Bono, our Lord and Savior. Ahem)Then the band seemed to give up as well. One guitar solo followed by some songs nobody heard of,(Okay, me...but I wasnt the only one not cheering) followed by another prolonged, drawn out, lousy guitar solo...the crowd...sat down. SAT DOWN!

Let's face it, we were friggin tired by the time he got on stage...boring us to death with some lame high school fret work is really no way to keep our attention.

I found myself drifting off, staring at the jumbo tron, trying to figure out if his shirt was leather, or faux leather. I wondered how much the set cost...how long it took Axl to get dreadlocks. Dreadlocks?

DREADLOCKS? WTF?

Then, the small exodus began. About 1:00 a.m. some people started calling it quits. Not just mom and dad types like myself...rockers, hard core looking types had had enough. (Or perhaps needed a beer) A fairly steady stream of people began inching out of the stadium. It was a sign, there was no booing, no drama, just, tired people, a little too old to be living the "rock and roll all night, party all day" lifestyle anymore.

We stayed, soldiered on. It was worth it, toward the end, Axl hit the grand piano and knocked out a dead on November Rain while showers of sparks fell around him. There was the usual fake ending, the required encore...and a few more songs nobody heard of, followed by...Patience?
I can't remember...which says a lot. The night was memorable thanks to good company and good friends...but no thanks to Axl, who by now should realize he isn't a kid anymore. None of us are.
It sounds silly to ask the little things from rock gods, but the basics would be appreciated. The tickets arent cheap, be on time. get your set list together before you get on stage and stick to it...check your equipment and for cryin' out loud, play TO the audience, not AT it.

I guess you could say we went to see Sebastian Bach that night, with Axl Rose and some musicians closing for him.
Or you could simply say, collectively, our "patience" has worn thin.

GN'R are
Axl Rose
Robin Finck
Ron Thal
Richard Fortus
Tommy Stinson
Brian Mantia
Dizzy Reed
Frank Ferrer

The setlist from that night,(thank Ja for Dr. Music and Google, supplementing my poor memory)is as follows
Setlist: Welcome To The Jungle, It's So Easy, Mr. Brownstone, Live And Let Die, Robin Guitar Solo & Jam (with Dizzy & Frank), Sweet Child O' Mine, Better, Knockin' On Heaven's Door, You Could Be Mine, Piano Moving Jam, Dizzy Piano Solo, The Blues, IRS, Richard Guitar Solo, Out Ta Get Me, Piano Jam, November Rain, Ron Guitar Solo (Don't Cry), My Michelle (with Sebastian Bach), Patience, Nightrain
Encores: Chinese Democracy, Madagascar, Paradise City

Update, December 16thChinese Democracy due out in March:
After nearly a decade, 13 million dollars in recording fees,countless delays and the total decimation of the origional band, save for Axl...GN'R has finally announced (again) they will be releasing Chinese Democracy in March.
For Joy.
Based on the show I saw, it should sell out in no time. You know, if they only print one cd for each band member.

GN'R, ANYONE?

2006-11-27T10:14:00.000-06:00

"Wanna go see Guns N' Roses?"

I about spit my coffee out. "Seriously?" I was ready to laugh it off but something made me ponder the possibility a bit longer. "Um...how much are tickets?" Jill turned and repeated my question into the phone. "Sixty five" she said, crinkling her nose.

"Uh.... we'll call you back.." she added, seeing my reaction.

Sixty five bucks? For GUN'S N' ROSES?? SERIOUSLY???

I imagined Allstate arena, I imagined the half empty seats, the thin aging crowd. I imagined the thousands of faded, thin filthy bandanas covering faded, thin filthy hair. I imagined the worn faces of hard living rockers grabbing as many beer as was allowed and howling into the cavernous expanse as they entered the venue. I imagined standing there and wondering if I stood out, without my leather chaps and jean jacket,circa 1988. Then it hit me....

What kind of a friggin snob had I become??

Too good for a GN'R show?

Jill kindly pointed out that I loved them once. That was a half truth. I loved the music, cutting edge at the time...full of anger and attitude. The band itself I could have done without. I had never gone to see them before, mainly because going to a show was risky back then. Axl had a habit of not going to his own shows on occasion, and when he did, they sometimes ended with a big ol' gran-mall-stage-rippin' hissy fit, culminating with a middle finger and thousands of pissed off fans.

No thanks, not being one to be star-struck in the first place, I had not the time, patience or cash to afford a "non-show". But that wasn't snobbery then, it was simple economics. Bon Jovi? Sure, THAT I could afford...at least those cats showed up. But Axl...well, he'd have to wait.

And now here I was nearly 20 years later pondering making the trip...finally...complete with a free ride...and all the while stereotyping those who wouldnt hesitate to spend some holiday cash on the chance of having a good time? Those who would risk a repeat of an Axl Rose meltdown, watching him flame-out LIVE and in person? Who WOULDN'T want to see this???

Shame on me. I'm going. If not only for the music, (which..hey..cmon, welcome to the jungle..yanno?) but for the reminder that underneath all these snobby suburban entrapments lies a fun loving, greasy haired party animal. My people need me. I shall answer the call.

Now If I could only remember what I did with my leather chaps...
.

Spoke too soon?

2006-11-20T21:13:00.000-06:00

First, some whoop-deee-doo hoorays for Julie and Walter...the wedding was amazing, almost as good as ours, but a bit more pricey ;)

During said wedding, I recall pointing out to a few uncles that the recent purchase of non refundable round trippers to Miami might be a smidge premature. Shortly therafter, the Bears lost the first game of the season.

I promised not to screw up the delicate balance of the universe like that again, and since abstaining, the Bears have resumed winning.

And so, now that they are 9-1 on the season, and looking reasonably less pathetic than I thought they might by now, I'll go ahead and say that they do indeed have a shot at it.

Maybe.

We'll see. Then again, this blog is supposed to be about my Cubbies, the little ones, not the big grizzly ones. So...I'll shaddup about them and return to off-season Cub luvvin.

ALFONSO SORIANO SIGNED WITH THE CUBS!!!!!

ALFONSO SORIANO SIGNED WITH THE CUBS!!!!!

ALFONSO SORIANO SIGNED WITH THE CUBS!!!!!

WHY AM I REPEATING THIS IN CAPS?

BECAUSE WE ARE GOING TO THE WORLD SERIES NEXT YEAR!!!!

Aw, crap, there goes the delicate balance of the universe again.

Screw it, Go CUBS!

Miami bound? Hardly...yet

2006-10-27T09:42:00.000-05:00

A quick thought to the Bears fans, players,coaches and media.

The Bears are 6-0. As of right now, they are not in the superbowl. They are, however, winners of the superbowl, depending on who you listen to.

I would like to take this moment to remind everyone that this is Chicago.
We have a habit here of folding like a book in the worst possible moments. The Bears are one key injury of being left in the dust...again.

Let's all take a breath here...the Bears have many games to play and win, before anything good happens...otherwise we may all be sitting in front of our 6-10 Bears wondering what the hell just happened.

HEADLINE OF THE MONTH

2006-09-27T20:57:00.000-05:00

"Too much testosterone kills brain cells..."

This means only one thing.

George Bush has 38 testicles, drinks steroids like Gatorade and can benchpress a VW.

This also explains a lot about gym class.

Idiots and A-holes

2006-09-19T18:19:00.000-05:00

The best advice my father ever gave me was this: Never argue with an idiot, because others have a hard time telling who's winning.
I have a hard time following that advice, expecially lately.

It seems we are beset on all sides, to quote Julius from Pulp Fiction, by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Keep in mind that while I just described most of our leadership globally, I'm also speaking indirectly to the vast legions of nitwits and dumbfucks that fill up cyberspace and take up air. Most recently added to the swirling chum...the loathesome 9-11 conspiracy theorist. Next to them, extremist anyones and religious fanatics. I was raised Catholic. I have guilt. I know all about the crusades, so lets get over it...I'm talking about now.

I'm talking about the religious right, the Muslim extremist, the this the that, any organized collective that figures the best way to teach another society a lesson about it's beliefs is by annihilating it.
I'm done with it. This insanity is,as far as I'm concerned, the knock on the door of the end of the world. Sad.

Most recently, the Pope made a reference to Muhammed and Islam, and quoted a 14th century manuscript that stated all Islam ever brought was evil and inhumanity.
The reaction by the muslim world was predictable, which is why I wonder what the hell was he thinking.

The most ironic part of it all...a high ranking Muslim extremist is calling for the assination of the Pontiff and a(nother) all out jihad against Christians because, essentially, the Pope mentioned that some extreme Muslims can be violent and irrational.
If you ask me, looks like the more things change the more they stay the same...even since the 14th century.

Wallpaper, Part II

2006-08-28T23:15:00.000-05:00

Jill is scraping the wallpaper from the plaster walls in our dining room. I'm in charge of putting it up again, the paper is on order. I'm also in charge of fixing all the wood trim and replacing some fugly boards that we had to remove to get furniture up the stairs to the bedroom. (Note to self. When Luke has outgrown his bnunkbed, it goes out the window, in splinters, not down the stairs.)

Jill brought home a preggo test today. Just for kicks, I'm sure. Oh, look...sweat!

I need to feed Luke's praying mantis...before he escapes and kills us all.

Thats all for now...

2006-08-27T21:36:00.000-05:00

I need to start using this thing as it is meant to be used, a journal of the the everyday mundane. I will try to update this often, at least 3 times a week.
Congrats to Mike and Viv, happily married last month, and expecting soon. The baby shower was today.

Luke started School last Wednesday. He loves school, and it looks like the extra work he did over the summer is paying off. On his first or second day, the teacher quizzed the kids on various things. Luke got the most right.

Took the kids to the uptown to the street fest yesterday, and Jill brought them home while I stayed and partied with cousin Scott and Jay. I'm hurting, but it was worth it, especially seeing the Modern day romeo's opening up for Big head Todd and the Monster's.

Currently looking for a cover the the Weber. If I can convince Jill, it'll have a Cubs lofo on it. Naturally.

Bridget is such a ham. I think she's having a hard time not getting all the attention now that Jill and Barb are watching Grace again.

The Cubs season is winding down, another pathetic year but, as always, there is next year.
Until then, we have FOOTBALL!!!!
Speaking of which, I have sorta-kinda joined a fantasy football league. I say sorta because I did the noob version of Yahoo! Fantasy league and had it all auto assigned. I know that takes almost all the fun out of it, but never having done one of these, I need to see how the whole thing works before paying into a league. Sure, I wont win anything, but who cares, it's all for fun.

"AND THE WINNER IS ?!?!?!"

2006-08-22T07:10:00.000-05:00

ME!

Thats right, feast your eyes on the Weber Genesis Silver C...36,000 BTU's of meat searing fire power with an extra 12k on the kettle boiling sidecar. This baby goes from 0-450 in under 2 minutes (I think, maybe?) and can handle a half a cow for your consumption without dropping a fork..and best of all...
I WON IT!

No kidding. The call came yesterday at dinnertime. I had nearly forgotten about the raffle tickets I had purchased from the local ACE earlier in the summer for $5. Oddly enough, I stopped at that very same ACE on the way home and walked right past the grill, positioned between the sliding glass doors on the way in. A few hours later, I was back in the store, grinning like a kid in a candy store. I had my choice, the Grill, or another cool Weber product, the gas powered outdoor fireplace. I chose the grill, knowing I would get more use out of it. Besides, somethings call for good old fashioned wood burning. Then again, I said the same about charcoal a scant few years ago when guys at work started buying propane grills.

Who knows, maybe one day I will see the sense in an outdoor propane fireplace with fake logs. Until then...LET'S BA-BA-QUE!

The Old and the Beautiful

2006-07-08T20:22:00.000-05:00

Tools.

In recent months, specifically since owning this old house, I have a new fascination with them. All kinds. Hand tools, power tools, sticks and stones...you name it.
I began to beef up my meager collection with the purchase of a laser level last December, and most recently a Delta 10" table saw.

Just a 10" INCH? You say? Not a chunkier, meaner 12" or better?
Nah, afterall... size doesnt matter, right?

Besides...when it comes to the beefy, chunky, badass department, I now have the bases covered, thanks to my brother in law Mike. I am now the proud owner of two heavy, heavy metal, well worn and aching for more, "let's build something KICKASS" type tools. One bandsaw, and one drill press, mine to keep if I can get them running.
Mine to keep if I can keep them from cracking and falling thru the concrete in my basement.
These things are monsters.
These things are cool.
These things ARE real tools.

There isnt an ounce of plastinc anywhere to be found on them...even the electric cord is wrapped in highly flammable cloth.
Cool...flammable.
The motors are a mess, I have my hands full just getting them cleaned up after decades of service...but I dont mind. Working on machines like this isn't like trying to figure out what the vacuum sucked up once it begins flooding the house with the stench of burned rubber...this is something else.
Something a little more peaceful. A little more meditative. Ironic, since the purpose of these growling monsters is to create the ear splitting, joyous sound of construction. Thats something to work toward. They don't make them like this anymore. It's a priveledge just to work on them.
It's nice to imagine they would feel the same about me.

You know, instead of trying to eat my fingers.

Tools....
Cool.

2006-07-01T08:13:00.000-05:00

Sunday Bloody Sunday , and monday...and tuesday...

It's been a while since I posted, well, anything...but it's specifically been a while since I ranted and raved about old George. One good reason, he doesn't apparently need any help from the likes of me to point out what the definition of pathetic is, his approval ratings prove he's got that department all wrapped up tight. Mission accomplished if you will.

Love him or loathe him, there is one truth that we cannot escape,we have him... and he's apparently not going anywhere, thanks largely to the inability of the Democrats to to capitalize on opportunity after opportunity to get rid of this bozo.

Bill Clinton was impeached for not meeting the personal moral agenda of a so called majority, and yet Bush has basically ordered the unnecessary deaths of THOUSANDS of Americans with little end in sight, made bazillions on the insane price of oil and lied about nearly every single facet of his farcical administration, and STILL he wobbles around the White House with that smug, vacant grin...oblivious to reality.
He is the worst president this or any country has ever had. (At least with a ruthless dictator of some sort you have an idea what your up against. With the Bush administration, it's a new, head shaking disgrace every day.)

What makes me sad about all this, even more so than the sickening loss of life, are those who defend his actions and re-defend them as each previous defense falls away.
Blind faith is a horrifying thing. It is why there are so many people who liken him to Hitler. Fortunatly, Hitlers approval ratings were much higher than Dubya's, due in part to fear of retribution from a government hell bent on world domination and absolute power. Thank god we don't have a government like that. Right?

Start 'em young

2006-06-02T11:20:00.000-05:00

The life of a Cub fan is a life filled with equal parts beer,fun and misery. This little lady is a bit young for the first part, and has a way to go before realising the full effect of the last-but fun we can do for now.

Thanks Grace, for hanging out with me on my Birthday...and for being a fan... I promise it isn't as bad as you think.

It's worse.

St.Louis Blues, Part II

2006-06-02T10:03:00.000-05:00

The nearly last place Cubs take on the FIRST PLACE Cards in St.Louis tonight.
I can hardly wait.
Can't you tell by the way Im jumping up and down. Yeah...I thought so.

Er...Go Cubs.

woo.

Patty O'furniture

2006-05-29T22:57:00.000-05:00

If you want something done right...
Work the overtime and pay the man.
In this case, Gabriel and his merry band of bricklaying
bandito's. Nice work, now the hunt for the right patio set
has begun...

notice the cut cable in the background...oops.
"HELP PAY FOR ALL OF THIS!!!"

Let the summer begin!

2006-05-29T22:35:00.000-05:00

The Cubs flat out suck. Okay, fine...at least they have chosen to get the hurting over with early instead of stringing us along...then again it's early. They still may just start a win streak that carries them, and us, to late September...and THEN fall apart. Like I've said before...at least theres no surprises with this team.

Well, ok...theres a few...

The Cubs Prayer

2006-05-19T07:12:00.000-05:00

GOOGLE is a wonderful tool. With the impending Crosstown classic between the Cubs and ... the other guys... it seemed necessary to say an appropriate prayer or two for our beloved Nort' Syders over by 'der. Thanks to google and the cubdom.com , I have been able to find at least a general shout out to the powers that be (Jack, Harry)
Let's hope they get the message up yonder... first pitch 3:05pm.

The Cub's Prayer
Our team which plays in Wrigley,
Hallowed be thy field.
Thy Cubdom.com
Thy games be won on the road
as it is in Wrigley.
Give us this day our daily win.
And limit our losses,
as we inflict them on others.
And lead us not into errors
but deliver us from our defensive woes:
for thine is the hitting
and the pitching, and the fielding, for ever.
Amen!

http://www.thecubdom.com/features/thecubsprayer.html

What an....INNING!

2006-04-26T00:27:00.000-05:00

It's official, Wrigley field has been improved. Our trip to the city was awesome, we all had a blast. Sure, it was 7 innings of yawn inducing losing, but the eighth inning,6 run rally provided all the thrills we needed. Cubs won 6-3...I could go on and on but who wants to read...this is all ya need.

Off we go!

Monkey on my back!

These are "premium" Bleacher seats? I'll stick with left field, thanks.

Patience, Padawan, never give up on the Cubs...

You too, kid...WAKE UP!!!

Smile...squint, whatever...

Wrigley Update

2006-04-24T11:28:00.000-05:00

Wrigley field has been "renovated" and tonight we get to see the final product up close and personal. Luke and I will be sitting the the new "Bleacher box" section, basically the same old bleachers with seatbacks in far right field. Jill and Bridget? Not so much, they get plain old bleachers, but that's better than nothing at all since as of 10a.m. this morning they were planning on an evening with Curious George instead.

Being a purist myself, (aka - grumpy old heartbroken Cubs skeptic) I'm apprehensive about the changes, but so far the reports are good...and as long as the beer is cold, the dogs are hot and the Cubs are winning, who cares where we sit...

Ok I do but Im a freak.

Catch us at the game tonight, WCIU at 6:05 pm...
Look for something similar to this...but, more to the right.

Finished!

2006-04-23T19:20:00.000-05:00

Bridget's room is done, (has been for a few weeks,) and I'd say its a success.
Even got to use my laser level. Tools. Cool.

R.I.P. Teddy...

2006-04-23T18:59:00.000-05:00

Teddy is gone, officially, and the search party has been called off. Despite our best efforts of locating him...(her?) it, there is nothing more we can do. Well, almost nothing.

Bridget was pretty torn up for a few days after our trip to the North Woods of Wisconsin. Somewhere between our stay at the ~~incomperable...~~ ~~Amazing~~...~~so-so~~...flea-bag motel "The Camelot", and my nephews wedding in Ladysmith, Teddy disappeared. We checked everywhere, even going so far as to double check the restaurants and rest-stops we hit along the way.
Nada.
So, Teddy is gone, but not forgotten. Seeing as how I was in the middle of re-creating Bridget's room from Maple street, I thought it would be a nice touch to add him-her-it to the decor.

Teddy now lives on in memory only, but Bridget approved, and shows everyone who visits her room. Bonus: She's sucking her thumb less. Thanks Teddy, for everything.

Thank you, Chicago White Sox!!!!!!!!

2006-04-10T18:48:00.000-05:00

This may be the single greatest day of my Cub-fan life...and I have the Chicago White Sox to thank for it.

Go figure...the team who's name I vowed never to mention in the same galaxy as my beloved Cubs is responsible for my renewed love of the greatest ball club ever.
EVER.

How, you ask, did they accomplish this feat?
Simple.
They won a little thing called the World Series last year, and in turn accomplished more than they had bargained for. WAY more.
Confused? I don't blame you. Why on earth would a completely crazed, dyed-in-the wool-bleeds red and Cubbie blue Cub fan like myself ever mention, let alone THANK, the lowly sout' siders in this blog? Well, it's because in a strange sort of way, I feel sorry for them. I know what your thinking, it should be the other way around, not that a Sox fan would ever stoop so low as to show emotion for another human, but thats beside the point.
See...a Cub fan always has next year.
Year after year, we root, scream, swear and lose our minds over our team, and every year they respond in one of two ways.
1.)They lose early or
2.)They lose late.
In either respect, they are consistant. They lose eventually, we know it, they know it and because of that, there is a balance. Sure, every now and again they take it a bit too far and try to pull a fast one by taking us all the way to the brink of glory- only to have a Steve Bartman show up and bring the balance back to center.
But not too often.
Just often enough to keep the fire stoked.
And so it goes, year after year, we make our pilgrimages to the Mecca by the lake, imbide in far too much alcohol, sun ourselves until we are roasted to medium-well, and become at one with the moment, a wondersul summer in the sun. Perfect, predictable, baseball at it's funnest.

Sadly, it isnt that way for Sox fans. It WAS that way for some of them, maybe...(I have yet to meet a Sox fan who spoke kindly of the team without peppering said praise with anti-Cub propoganda) but the team let them down. They ruined the balance. As it stands now, the glorious moment they won is gone, and will NEVER be duplicated.
It's over, for them, it will never get any better than this.
Not this year, not next year, not if they won 30 Series in a row while breaking every major league record, the moment is over...the balance is for them, forever lost.

I will say one thing for the true fans, as Steve Dahl remarked, the bottom feeders and lower tier fans (tattood father and son thug teams who like to jump onto the field and beat up opposing coaches, what have you) have dropped off thanks to the higher ticket prices and corporate asses filling seats.
Still,they have been let down, the fire has been extinguished... They won the World Series. I can't think of a worse thing to do to your own fans.

At this very moment, there are hundreds of true Sox fans, and millions of late to the game band wagon jumpers are set adrift. This may explain the sudden surge in anti-Cub attitudes. Sure, Sox fans have always been a surly, jealous bunch...but now they are beside themselves...not even winning a World Series could quelch the roar on the north side as every sold out game furthers the legend...
The sound of 48 thousand fans, screaming for every hit, home run, win and even loss...knowing that no matter what, we always have next year...we always have another chance...in perfect balance.

Congratulations Chicago White Sox, with the team you had last year, you deserved to win. Congratulations White Sox fans, I hope you have a good memory, there's always last year.
GO CUBS!!!!!

Dig them Gorillaz

2006-04-07T01:24:00.000-05:00

Music Video Code provided by MySpace Video Code

16-7 CUBS WIN!!!

2006-04-03T19:27:00.000-05:00

Ah, spring. When a young man's fancy turns to Hebrew Nationals, Budweisers and bleacher-seat tan lines.
The Cubs. MY Cubs. First day of Cub's Baseball, rung in with a big ol' win.
Life is good.

At war with...The Knights who say NEE!!!

2006-02-04T17:05:00.000-06:00

DATELINE SYRIA
Fires set at Danish, Norwegian embassies in Syria, protesting Muslim cartoons.

CARTOONS?!?

Yes, folks, as Penn Jilette put it, we are now fighting the knights who say nee. This is a good thing, actually.
Remember just a few days ago we were fighting a nameless, faceless threat...the threat of ...-gasp- TERROR!!!

But as it turns out, its all been a waste of time. In fact, we can call back the troops this second and send in the cartoonists. Who would have thought that instead of carpet bombing mountains in Afghanastan, we could simple airlift 30 of Disney's finest to the front line.

Heres how it would play out...
Them
"DEATH TO AMERICA! WE WILL NOW SEND OUR SUICIDE WOMEN AND CHILDREN TO THE INFIDELS AND...."
U.S.
Not so fast, Achmed...allow me to just take this pen and scribble a crude depiction of your precious Muhammed ...SCREWING A PIG!!!" -SCRIBBLE SCRIBBLE-

Them"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO -We QUIT!!!"

See? now all we need to do is stop the spread of democracy before a terrorist outfit becomes elected...oh, nevermind...."

52 DAYS AND COUNTING!!!!!

2006-01-09T21:11:00.000-06:00

No, not since I had a smoke, thats been over two years, and I stopped counting...I'm talking 52 DAYS UNTIL, CUBS BASEBALL, BAY-BEE!!!!

That's right, 52 days until the sweet sound of a real roaring crowd fills the air...not that lame south side band wagon jumping hollering that went on last year, no siree...Im talking REAL baseball fans, fans with stick-to-it-tivness, guts, pride and above all...fabulous tan lines.

Speaking of which, Wrigley is at this very moment getting a little face lift out yonder in the sun-tannin' area. I can't wait to plop my ass down on some new hardwood, cold beer in hand and nothing but God and sunshine looking down upon me.

It's been a lousy winter, and an even lousier New Year so far. I've been sick, bored and overwhelmed. Spring can't come soon enough, and until the gates open for the real Chicago baseball fans, I won't quite feel right.
Let's go Cubbies, whoever you end up being, you have fan number 1 ready and waiting...this could be our year!

WelcomeGrace!!!!

2005-09-30T14:19:00.000-05:00

!!!!!

Later, Brownie

2005-09-14T23:31:00.000-05:00

Michael D. Brown has resigned from FEMA. Good. Enough from me, theres a hundred thousand people directly injured by your lack of ability, there need not be further bashing from the likes of me, high dry and far away. Listening to Animals from Pink Floyd while painting today, however, I couldnt help but think how appropriate the lyrics, recorded in 1977, were to your pathetic ineptness. Enjoy.
Sheep (Waters) 10:19

Harmlessly passing your time in the grassland away;
Only dimly aware of a certain unease in the air.
You better watch out,
There may be dogs about
I've looked over Jordan, and I have seen
Things are not what they seem.

What do you get for pretending the danger's not real.
Meek and obedient you follow the leader
Down well trodden corridors into the valley of steel.
What a surprise!
A look of terminal shock in your eyes.
Now things are really what they seem.
No, this is no bad dream.

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want
He makes me down to lie
Through pastures green He leadeth me the silent waters by.
With bright knives He releaseth my soul.
He maketh me to hang on hooks in high places.
He converteth me to lamb cutlets,
For lo, He hath great power, and great hunger.
When cometh the day we lowly ones,
Through quiet reflection, and great dedication
Master the art of karate,
Lo, we shall rise up,
And then we'll make the bugger's eyes water.

Bleating and babbling I fell on his neck with a scream.
Wave upon wave of demented avengers
March cheerfully out of obscurity into the dream.

Have you heard the news?
The dogs are dead!
You better stay home
And do as you're told.
Get out of the road if you want to grow old

And a little child shall lead them...

2005-09-08T21:40:00.000-05:00

There are times when I look at our 2 children and see such power and strength, the kind I wish more adults had. It's fleeting but it's there. I see it in moments of sudden learning, when the lighbulb goes off while Luke is doing his homework. I see it when Bridget holds up her latest coloring creation up for my approval, then nods when I tell her what a great job she's doing. They are small moments that make parents proud to be in such a position. I sometimes wonder what the limits of a childs ability are, when forced to use every bit of what they have learned in such a short time.
Maybe not all kids are equal, and some catch on more than others...and then there are kids like Deamonte Love.

Deamonte Is six, the same as Luke. When he was discovered in New Orleans last week, he was holding a 5 month old baby. Following close behind like baby ducklings were 5 more toddlers. Daemonte was the leader. He spoke for the group. He told rescuers what he could. He lead them, as best as he could, to safety.

They are all orphans so far, the wherabouts of the parents are unknown. With the intervention of a miracle, they will all be reuinted with family. One thing is for certain, if it were not for the bravest little six year old I have ever heard of, they may all be dead.

Theres a lot of heartache going on down there, and all over the country, wherever someone has lost someone else. I can't find a place to put all of the emotions I am feeling about it yet...I suppose it's why I have this stupid blog in some ways, to vent it out and give it some other place to live than in my heart.

If there is a God I hope he has wonderful plans for little Deamonte Love, it took him only 6 years to become what some people never do... a brave and capable leader.
Perhaps our own lame duck president, the "leader" of FEMA and the countless other "leaders" who completely and utterly FAILED at thier job- while Americans died and suffered...perhaps they could take a lesson from a child.
I doubt it.

Marga-WRIGLEY-ville!!!!

2005-09-06T22:11:00.000-05:00

Recovering from one hell of a party is one thing...getting up at 7am, working it off and then trying to blog whatever is left in my shriveled brain (with matching pickled liver, new this fall) has left to offer is impossible. I can't "think" for any length of time without the lambs screaming for silence, so I will keep it simple. This entry if mainly for the AWESOME, WONDERFUL,FUN AND FUNNY people we met at the Jimmy Buffet show yesterday. The pics will be at my flickr site, just click the pic above. You are one and all a riot to party with, and some of the greatest people we have met...too bad I can't remember ONE SINGLE NAME in the bunch, but no worries, you have my email- give us a shout if you ever get to Palatine...Durty Nellies and Lamplighters are within stumbling distance... we will party again! Jill, Jeanne, Jay and I got the limo at our house around 11am. Jay brought along a "box o' ritas" (just add tequila and shake) a round of salt and all the necessary accoutrements to get us "going" on the way. We started with a glass of Champaign to celebrate the sale (finally) of our house. Thanks to you both, it was a nice touch.
I wont detail the show, it was amazing, it was Jimmy Buffet at Wrigley, what more do you want. Ok, fine...but another time. For now it's time to sleep a little and work on appologies and other damage control...from what I hear it's minimal ...must not have drank enough...go figure!
Direct link to pics

An open letter to the FRIGGING MORON in charge...

2005-09-04T14:56:00.000-05:00

Dear Mister ~~Dumbass,~~Whatever-
In my opinion...my emotional and knee jerk opinion...is-
YOU are to blame for the NATIONAL DISGRACE that is the Iraqi War, and the thousands dead.
YOU are to blame to the failed Levee's in New Orleans, and the thousands dead.
YOU are to blame for lowering the standard of this country, from what was once a proud land to a global JOKE.

I hope the horrors you created for thousands, if not millions of human beings come back to haunt you for the rest of your life... but you would need to have a soul for that to happen, something, along with a brain, you and your nitwit followers are sorely lacking.
It sickens me that I cant say more, but I fear that the sham you pulled over our eyes called the patriot act will somehow get my ass thrown in jail for being a communist or some other nonsense. Im an American with an opinion, thats all, how sad that that can be in and of itself, dangerous.
Get back to me after I've actually done research- in the meantime, allow e to be Democratic about all of this.
Thanks.

Whats ONE more project, anyway?

2005-08-21T14:46:00.000-05:00

I'm officially up to my ass in alligators. First, let me say i'm not complaining...I'm just saying. My first project is getting Luke's room painted in a Star Wars theme. Not the easiest thing to do I have found, all my skills are stretched to the limit and so far I have just started painting the ceiling dark blue. Oy.
But it's worth every second. With the closing of the other house a week away, I need to haul ass and get the crawlspace cleaned out. First, however, I need to find room here, and the garage is full as it is, especially since I bought a new lawnmower,which incidentally, broke in 10 minutes. Add that to the list. Then theres the swingset, which I need to dismantle and haul over here, after that...Bridgets room gets painted with hearts and I... I....I-yi yi.
Worth it? Look at these kids...hell yeah...but what I wouldnt give to have it all over and done with. Maybe next year. Hey, at least I have the Cubs to...oh nevermind.

Star Wars vs. Yu-Gi-OH!

2005-08-02T21:15:00.000-05:00

Now that we are settled in the new house it's time to paint Luke's room. I have a feeling this will be the last time since he won't be into theme rooms much longer. It was a toss up between Yu-Gi-Oh!(oh-no!) and my personal favorite..Star Wars.
So far, Star Wars is in the lead. There is much to do, I will post what I can as I work on it. This should be fun.
UPDATE: Star Wars won the battle, and theres no turning back now...the painting has begun!
I'm kicking around posting the whole project as a step by step just for fun, and maybe to help anyone else whos got a notion to try this. We'll see, and may the force be with me...always! Oh, how lame was THAT!?!
UPDATE: DONE!

UFO CAPTURE CONFIRMED BY THE GOVERNMENT!!!

2005-07-18T20:40:00.000-05:00

Just kidding.
No really, remove the tin foil beanie and come out from under the couch you dweeb. There is no UFO, there never was a UFO and no, aliens from outer space are not visiting us. They are not abducting us. They are not mutilating our cows, impregnating our women or sizing up our planet for anything. They can't afterall, since they don't exist.
I'll say that again.

We ARE ALONE!!!!!

Which of course, also disproves Scientology, since it is based on the evil galactic overlord xenu placing the lost souls of many dead thetans in volcanos all over the world..or...something...I dunno, click this and you figure it out.

Did you hear that Tom Cruise? There are no thetan motherships or alien races with knowledge handed down through the likes of you, you shrimpy chucklehead.
In the town of Roswell New Mexico, the only thing that ever fell from the sky is a weather balloon, or..and I'm really stretching it on this one...maybe a top secret government something or other that they would rather not disclose. But this I can assure you...whatever it was, it was made from materials found right here on good ol' planet Earth, and not the third septaurian rim planet Alpha Promithius in the Crab Nebula sector of the outer rim.

How do I know this? Simple, really...you all know this too. Some of you, however, cling to the theory that if you can't DISPROVE something, then it simply must be real.
Yeah? Really?
Bullsh!T!
There are no aliens. Science fiction scared us into thinking there were then BAM, white trash's rejects were suddenly the prime target for ET after travelling 30 bazillion light years to earth. Why not the President? No...Billy Bob is much more interesting.
Give me a break.
Man walked on the moon, there are no aliens, and Oswald acted alone. Period.
I think I finally reache my limit in the "tolerance of lunatics" department. Tom Cruise and the media circus surrounding his lunkheaded psychotic belief system (not that there arent plenty of those to go around)and the incessint ramblings that follow just irked me somethin' fierce. Add to that a healthy dose of Penn and Teller disproving conspiracy theories, sprinkle some myth busters on top and suddenly it all becomes clear. The only truly enlightened people on this planet are the ones who DON'T follow like sheep the messiahs of madness.
Aliens...pfft...seriously, I LOVE sci-fi. But enough already. L.Ron Hubbard was quoted once as saying that if someone reallywanted to make some $$ they would start a religion. He wasn't kidding, the church of Scientology from what I understand simply asks for all your $$ in exchange for being completely brainwashed into thinking that people who dont believe what they do are to be shunned.
Even family.
Sorry, Tom, no thanks, I'm not much of a joiner.
But hey, keep up the good work...your future ex wife must be a real catch to buy into your B.S.
I give it 3 more months.
So in closing...there are no aliens...none...okay?
Ok.

Now...stare at this pen...while...I.....

"What I did this summer" by....

2005-07-10T20:27:00.000-05:00

Summer has barely started and already I'm asking what you did ? 'm impatient, so sue me. Have you been in a store lately? It's already back to school time. Since we havn't had much time to enjoy this summer what with moving and the drought and all, I figured it would be nice to hear from some of youz guys out there...SOOO....Here it is folks, the first ever interactive Kidcubfan blog post where YOU...the casual observer...can tell the rest of the world (ok, more like 6 other people) about your wonderful (or not so much) summer thus far. I've been going on and on far too long about me...now it's your turn to go on and on about me. I mean...oh you get the idea.
Make it long winded or short and sweet, simple or boringly in depth. I don't care...it's YOUR turn to fill in my little corner of the internet with whatever.Just click the little blue COMMENTS below and HAVE AT!

Summer regardless

2005-07-09T13:03:00.000-05:00

Despite my best efforts to be a perpetual crabass, the kids keep changing my mood.
Luke had his first Soccer game at the Y today, but had to leave early and do a quick change in the car for his Tee-ball rookie team trophy presentation. We made it with no time to spare, and Luke got his trophy (they all got one) and proceeded to drop it while attempting to slide down a skate ramp. I collected the pieces and assured him it would be fixed before mom saw it. All this while her Majesty Princess Bridget held court in her Princess and the Pauper dress. Forget that it's high noon in the middle of summer...one must look her best when one is royalty.
Kids.

The making of a bitter old man - Part I

2005-07-07T20:20:00.000-05:00

Ever wonder where they come from? The bitter old men of the world? I'll tell you where they come from. They start out like everyone else, happy, carefree...then BAM! One zig when they should have zagged and life takes a whiz in thier morning Cheerios for eternity. I know...it's beginning to happen to me. My Cheerios are at great risk people...and I have had almost enough. In the past months I have discovered, sadly, that I have an absolute limit when it comes to certain things like, for example, real estate. In the next coming entries I will try to put together details of the last four months in hell trying to sell our old house and our old mortgage while moving in to our new house and its brand new mortgage. Ill also describe as best I can the low lifes and n'er do-well's involved in the process. SOUND LIKE FUN? Whoopdie, I gotta vent, and short of unloading a howitzer into a busload of kittens, this is what I got. My blog. My out of date, neglected little space on the web that nobody looks at. Except you...you...masochist.

Speaking of tragedy, How 'bout dem Cubs, huh?
About the only good thing to come from Wrigley lately is this shot of me and Mike earlier this year. Yeah, I know, nothing says STUD like flannel shirts and long underwear at a baseball game.
Stick a fork in us both...we're done.

WISHLIST

2005-05-19T20:08:00.000-05:00

Here. Nuff said.
May the force be with me.(Birthday, MAY 28TH..HINT HINT HINT HINT)
And this

And this
And, of course, This

But THIS, above all else, is a must.

Oh, and peace on earth.

A long time ago...

2005-05-18T21:41:00.000-05:00

In a galaxy far, far away...

Thank you Mr. Lucas for a wild friggin' ride. As a confirmed STAR WARS geek all my life I would be failing my true self not to post up a long diatribe regarding my passions for all things Skywalker (My son's name is Luke, Hello?)
But until I get those words lined up, Heres some boogie fer yer Bounty Hunting Butt!

MC Chris

Cruisin' mos espa in my delorian
war's over I'm a peacetime mandalorian
my story has stumped star wars historians
deep in deabte buffet plate at bennigans
rhyme renegade sure to penetrate
first and second defense I won't hesitate
got a job to do and Darth's the guy that delegates
got something against skywalker someone he really hates
I don't give a fu#k I'm after Solo
For all I care he could be hiding at yoda's dojo
Gotta make the money credit's no good
When the jawas run the shop in your neighborhood
Think you can cook I got a grappling hook
Let's make this quick cuz I'm really booked
I'm a devious degenerate, defender of the devil
Shut down all the trash compactor's on the detention level

chorus
My backpack's got jets
I'm boba the fett
I bounty hunt for jaba hut
To finance my vette
wiggy wiggy wiggy
I chill in deep space
A mask is over my face
I deliver the prize but I still narrow my eyes
Cuz my time I don't like to waste.
Get down

I'm a question wrapped inside an enigma
Get inside the slave one find your homing signal
From endor to hoth, ripley to spock
I'll find what you want, but there's gonna be a cost
Say my name is boba fett I know my sh1t is tight
Start not acting in right, you're frozen in carbonite
Got telescopic sight, flame throwers on my wrist
You still don't get the gist, spiked boots are made to kick
Targets are made to hit, you think I give a sh1t
Yer mama is a bi#ch, I see you in the sarlaac pit
You just flipped my switch integrity been dissed
You scratchin on my itch you know I shoot the gift
Got bambinas at cantinas waitin to lick my lusty lips
So I'll let you get back inside you're little space ship
Give you a head start, cuz I'm the sportin' kind
Consider the starting line the sneaky smile I hide inside
Hope you have hyper drive, pray to stay alive
Don't try to slip me a five cuz I never take a bribe
To the beat of a different drummer, bad ass bounty hunter
Let no man put asunder or else they be put under
As in six feet, got an imperial fleet
Backin me up gonna blow up any attempt to defeat
They gotta death star, got four payments on my car
Hand it over to hammer head at mos eisley bar
He used to carjack, now he's a barback
Just goes to show how you can get back on the right track
As for me that's not an option can't say that with more clarity
Me going legit would be jar jar in speech therapy

chorus

Slice you open like a tauntan, faster than the autobahn
Or a motorbike in tron, do the deed and then I'm gone
Jabba has a hissyfit, contact calrissian
Over a colt, the plan unfolds, no politic is legit
Back in the day when I was a slave
Living life in the fast lane like in a pod race
My mean streak tweeked I became a basket case
So this space ace split that place poste haste
Took up a noble cause called the clone wars
Cuz life's not all about girls and cars
Getting fu%ked up in fu#ked up bars
See I'm not a retard or gay like de barge
I'm large and in charge with a face so scarred
A cold black heart that's been torn apart
The sith wish that they had a dick so hard
Cuz it's long long ago in a pussy far far
Call me master cuz I'm faster than pryor on fire
I no longer have to hot wire
I'm a hunter for hire with no plans to retire
And all the sucka mc's can call me sire

Word, nerd. :)

Getting High at U2

2005-05-11T22:52:00.000-05:00

First, let's make one thing perfectly clear, I am in no way shape or form qualified to make an official review of any concert, especially one where I spent far too much money on beer and not quite enough on anything resembling solid food. That being said, the Good Doctor has invited me to share with his legions of fans my thoughts on last Mondays U2/ Vertigo show at the United center here in Chicago.
Let me begin with a few basics. Tickets, $95.00 plus tax (times two), Babysitter $60, Parking, $20, Beer (draft) $7.00! Beer ("premium")$7.50!! (times...well, read on...)
Having seats so far ABOVE nosebleed that the only benefit is not having any seats left behind you, therefore not enduring any stuffed shirt mamby pambys' complaining that you are standing up at a ROCK CONCERT...Priceless.
BEER ONE
So there I was, my first overpriced beer in hand and following the wife and brother in law up the very same flight of stairs that Sir Edmund Hillary once trained on when I suddenly realized we couldnt go any higher. I'd like to say they were lousy seats,(A certain irony was noted at the fact the tickets said VERTIGO in big letters)and if we were watching a Bulls game they might have been, but for a big fancy schmancy light 'em up show like U2, I figured we would settle in pretty quickly and forget about our distance from the stage, and we did. This was to be my first U2 show, and my wife, who was a veteran with 3 behind her, assured me I was in for a treat. Already the walls were rocking thanks to the opening act 'Kings Of Leon', who I will be looking out for thanks to hearing them live. Just before the last song the lead singer very humbly, and wisely, thanked U2 for the opportunity and stage time.
BEER TWO
After the opening act cleared away, my brother in law sprang for round two. Bonus,since at 7 bucks a pop, drinking was really a group effort.
Showtime was quickly approaching, the roadies had finished scrambling and scurrying about, strange shadowy people popped in and out of not so secret places here and there. The round stage, large enough for the whole band, was encircled by a huge oval runway that travelled out into the heart of the main floor and back again. This had Bono's name all over it, a crafty little way for him to vamp and strut out and back. People were seated inside and all around it, making "front row seating" subjective. Above the stage hung a monsterous rig, brimming with sound equipment, lights, lasers, miles of duct tape,cabling, kitchen sinks and who knows what else. Four enormous screens faced all 4 directions, occasionally popping up little messages reminding the operators that the lamps were ready, or that the filter needed cleaning. "Figures" I thought. "Even U2 gets hassled by technology." The seats were filling, the atmosphere was charging, and friends were arriving with, ah yes, more beer.
BEER THREE, FOUR...ah you get the idea...
Showtime, my favorite part of any concert is the hair raising cheer that roars forth when the lights go out...it sets the mood for the rest of the night, for me it's a barometer. If a band is great, it surpasses that first excitement and the memory you have to take with you is the performance itself. When a band misses the mark, that first rush is sometimes all you get to remember. I cheered for the band, I wanted them to blow me away. The entire audience screamed at fever pitch, U2 had taken the stage, and they hit the stage full speed. Bono was invisible for a moment, slinking around in the shadows as the song City of Blinding Lights pumped out, then the screens found him, trotting along the runway and into the heart of the main floor crowd just fingertips length away from frenzied fans stretching for just one touch. I couldn't help but think that when it comes to being a "rock star" Bono is simply a machine. He struts and poses and sings as if he were built for that kinda thing. Over the years I have relaxed my fanatacism a bit. Maybe it's the over-saturation of the politics, or the last few lackluster albums. Bono is after all human, and as Dr. Music so rightly pointed out in a recent review of HTDAAB, he's not a god, but I'll be damned if those words didn't ring in my head as blasphemy watching the little shrimpy feller drive home the first song of the set. He really is something to see live.
BUT HE'S STILL HUMAN
And he was sick, too. The radio had mentioned he was under the weather for the first show the night prior, and I had been nervously watching to see if he would cancel. The radio also alluded to the fact that Bruce Springsteen, Bono's best buddy ol' pal, was in town for a show or two and maybe he would join the boys on stage. No dice, I won't leave you hanging, it never happened. Too bad, too, because Bono could have used a backup singer. After belting out Vertigo and Elevation, his voice cracked and sputtered and at one point during a one of the songs he barked,( not sang) "...got a frog in my throat..." mid-lyric. I waited for the payoff, ala Elvis Presley...perhaps a little laughing, giggly moment with the audience while he begged forgiveness and swigged from a water bottle. Nada, he just went on with the song. He got away with it, and a few songs later he thanked the crowd for listening to him and the band rant and rave about this atrocity and that violation over the years, and reminded us all that we are all just the same, equals, yada yada. I took that opportunity to daydream and try and figure out about how much his stage cost and at some point divided that by how many beers that would buy someone in the United Center. Not very many, I digress.
NOT BAD
..is not how you want to describe any powerhouse. Babe Ruth was never "not bad", Michael Jordan was not described as "Not bad" not even on his worst day.
I really didn't want to tell people the U2 show was simply "Not bad" but that was what it was shaping up to be. The songs were right on, Bono's voice never cracked again and the lighting and stage antics were brilliant and fun, if not awe inspiring, but something was missing, and I still don't know what it was. It was kinda like sitting on Santa's lap for the last time, you know that ONE of you is getting too old for this, but neither of you want to admit it. Some kind of magic was absent, and I was in complete denial. I cheered for every song, high fived my brother in law for Sunday Bloody Sunday, kissed my wife at Bullet the Blue sky (a personal favorite) and even displayed my cell phone's cool blue and white lights when Bono asked the entire crowd to hold them up high (This, incidentally, is what we do now that nobody smokes anymore and is, for the most part, sans bic) Imagine of you will 40 thousand mobile phones lighting up an arena. Now imagine them taking up space in a landfill. There, Bono, make that your next cause. I digress again.
MAGIC MOMENTS
...did come, at least for one very lucky girl named Laura. It was the second encore, the most pretentious part of any large show, and Bono trotted around the runway singing 'Yahweh' when he stopped for a large white banner held up in the crowd. I couldn't make out the words, but they said something to the effect of "I can play guitar please god if you are real let Bono notice me or I will cry like a pathetic howler monkey with rickets!"
At Bono's request, the girl was escorted on stage and handed an acoustic guitar by the Edge. Even from our seats we could see the smile on her face. Bono broke the ice by commenting on her height and gave her fair warning that lying was bad. She laughed, and began to play the first few strained notes of 'Party girl.'
Once she got it rolling, Bono joined in and sang up to the first chorus. The crowd cheered, and when Bono hugged the shaking girl, the crowd went insane. Contrived? Sure, and pretty cool too. The show wrapped up with '40' and the lights came up to 40 thousand couples calling 20 thousand tired babysitters. Our group said our good byes and we filtered out happy with what we just saw...not bad I thought. Coulda been better someone else said. "Next time" I figured, and we went home with sore throats and ringing ears just the same.

And now for something completely different...

2005-05-04T22:39:00.000-05:00

This is where I am supposed to post something funny and/or creative about the Cubs, the house we are buying, the house we are trying to sell, life, kids or anything else worthy of your attention.
Unfortunatly, I'm fresh out of funny and/or creative for now, so in the meantime...
Here's a couple of dudes who aren't.

Back makin with the funny ASAP.

Pope John Paul II

2005-04-03T21:57:00.000-05:00

The passing of the holy father has sparked my attention toward my own faith quite a bit. Hearing about his life, his legacy, and his journey has impressed me to no end. He was a man who from an early age felt so strongly about his faith that he devoted his life to it. Anyone who can do that against those odds has my eternal respect.
I know very little about much of my own faith, something I'm not very proud of. Over the years I have waffled between teenage angst-fueled "athiesm," and full blown religious devotion. If I had to pick a point on the map where I am now, it's somewhere in between, with all the other fencepost sitters. Luckily, that point is never very stationary, and every day is shakily moves towards a comfortable level of acceptance. One thing that I am certain of, I am not in total control of anything and the closer I get to accepting that the closer I come to realising that it's ok. So I pray, sometimes, and hope that if it's important, my prayer will come true. Luke and Bridget are two prayers that did. The joy they give us is more than we deserve probably, but I'm not complaining. I think the joy all children can bring a loving parent is more than any of us deserve, and thats the point that religion and faith hold for us I think.
Being open and accepting of good things is not selfish, or wrong. It's healthy, and needed. Knowing that I have faith in something, even if it's just a little, is immeasurably more comforting than trying to prove something doesnt exist.
I'm done with that part of faith. Proving an unknown is impossible, and frankly a waste of my valuable time. I have made my peace with my God.

A question from Bolivia

2005-03-28T00:20:00.000-06:00

A certain Bolivian someone who shall remain nameless for now (Her name rhymes with VIVIAN!)asked a simple question..."What IS that website for?"
The answer, I found, was a bit more complicated. I don't know what this blog is for really. Sure, I claim it's for ranting and raving about the Cubs...my family, etc. But what am I really using it for? Therapy? Journalism practice? A diary? A complete waste of valuable time?
Who knows...who cares. All of those things maybe. If I actually had time to keep it up to date it might grow to something of more substance or interest, but for now, It's my little place on the net where I can do as I please. Like say, for instance, posting pictures of certain Bolivian chikka's who ask about my habits, and the boyfriends they hang with. (His name rhymes with MIKE!) G'head, Viv, leave a message. Make sure it means something, though! :P

Moving? First things first...

2005-03-27T20:36:00.000-06:00

...like selling your house. Ever sell A house? No? Heres how it works. First, the realtor looks at it, tells you how cute it is, can't get over what you have done with the place, then tells you to clean it up, paint every wall white and remove nearly everything you own including you and you so strangers can rifle thru your underwear drawer while your away.
Then...wait. And wait. Every phonecall sounds amplified a thousand times. Your emotions are already shot to hell but it doesnt matter, they have more hell to go thru before things get interesting.
We are in the thick of it right now, and I am dealing with raw emotions and a short temper. Topping it off, I shattered a temporary crown today. It came apart like a cartoon. People with less than anything nice to say are best to avoid me for the next few weeks, I'm in no friggin mood.
-Snarl!-

The Ninth Configuration, a review

2005-03-05T22:13:00.000-06:00

Ah, yes..it's that time once again for
MOVIE REVIEW OUT OF NOWHERE!!!

This time around, a classic underdog. Back in the days of yore, the gang and I were laying around one of our houses, half baked and completely bored when someone walked in with a movie. "The Ninth Configuration" starring Stacey Keach as a half crazy shrink running an experimental insane asylum in a castle somewhere in America. The lunatics have taken over in more ways than one. As an alternative to shock rehab and drugs, Keach encourages odd behaviour and all sorts of wackiness to be played out as therapy. The only one not buying into the whole program is an astronaut who lost his marbles on the launch pad at t-minus 10 seconds and counting. "THERES NOTHING OUT THERE!!! THERES NOTHING OUT THERE!!!"
For weeks that became our battle cry as we tried to shed the sinking feeling of post-high school apathy. I think we watched that movie 5 times in one weekend. Honestly, I havnt seen it since and don't ask me why I'ts on my mind now...but I know what I'll be renting this weekend.
You should,too.

Cubs get new digs, we don't

2005-03-04T21:59:00.000-06:00

It's a good news/ bad news thing really.
What started as a giggling thought turned into a full blown, credit-checking, sign the papers before they do knock down drag out mortgage fest. We offered, the other guy counter-offered...the seller couldnt have been happier... and when the smoke, lawyers,guns and money cleared...the beautiful 136 year old Victorian with more character than solid foundation went to someone else. Three days later, my teeth were still gnashing. We REALLY wanted that house. If any good came from it at all, it would be the fact that we had a clearer understandting of what our current house needs. Secondly, we found out what our current place is worth, which was pleasantly surprising. We now have work to do here, which isnt saying much, we always have work to do on the house.
Than theres my home away from home...
Wrigley Field is about to get an "extreme makeover" and judging by the pics, it looks exciting. Another ancient building in need of work. Like it or not, this is the house that Sosa built. Love him or hate him, his time spent here blasting balls onto waveland and sheffield helped pack 'em in and pay for the future expansions. Was he the single reason? No. Not by a longshot. (get it?) But he sure helped.
So thanks Sammy...good luck with the O's and let the games begin.
Pre-season watch: Cubs 2, THEM 0
WOOOO-HOOOO!!!

Do we have a winner?

2005-03-04T20:42:00.000-06:00

The FBI wants to know!
I sent along a note to point out something I saw on another website...Going on a sketch and nothing else, Id say they have this case solved...check out the sketch and then look at the guy second from the right (with the festive Pillsbury Hateboy cap on)
Bingo?
Well see. In any event, I hope they all end up in the pokey, pun intended.

Home sweet headache

2005-02-27T15:52:00.000-06:00

So this is the part where I decide if the events of the last 2 weeks are worth keeping a record of or not. The decision really isnt up to me at this point, but rather hinges on a precarious decision by someone I have never met. In the next 24 hrs, I will find out if the following words are the beginnings to the journal of our new home, or a disappointing waste of time. Here goes nothing...

At 11 am this morning I met with our real estate agent Mark, and a guy named Joe. Joe is a structural engineer, and we had him out to give our "dreamhome" a once over. He confirmed with me that the house we like is solid...old, but solid. He also confirmed that old saying, you snooze...you lose. The house, as Mark pointed out the day before yesterday, is under contract with another buyer. Had we listened to our hearts (not a smart business move) and not our fears, we would have bid on the house last week.
We stalled, and someone else came in with a bid.
Now the fun really begins. In order to get the house, we not only need a higher bid, unsecured by a bank as of yet...but a wing, 2 prayers...one arm, a leg and nerves of steel. Nerves of steel are not my forte'. Nerves of hard plastic, maybe. Steel I need help with.
Thats where Mark comes in. He knows this stuff, he's done this before. We decided we can't not have this house. As of 2pm today, we crunched numbers, signed papers, asked questions, crossed our fingers and set the wheels in motion.
The clock is ticking, and every time the phone rings I jump three feet.
It's out of my hands for the moment, and I'm hoping to write more about this adventure over the next few months. Let the games begin...

Cubs tix, hurry up and wait!

2005-02-26T10:48:00.000-06:00

You know you have an addiction when the credit card company you used to feed it calls to ask if everything is ok. Starting at 9:30 am and continuing on through the night and early into this morning, Jill and I tag-teamed the "virtual waiting room" wait. Apparently the virtual waiting room is the online equivilant of getting a numbered wristband. SUpposedly this maddening wait-and-see game evens the playing field between common fans and the ticket hogs who snap up blocks of bazillions and re-sell them at a 900% mark up. What a load of crap. At the end of a long, boring, wait and see day, we finally ended up with tickets for a number of games, but not after a maddeningly jerky system booted us out over and over. Is it worth it?
C'mon now... Wrigley here we come!

Telefunny has it's own place on the web!

2005-02-24T21:34:00.000-06:00

As some of you know, I enjoy cartooning as a hobby. I don't get paid for it in the traditional sense, for now giving other people a chUckle or two is payment enough.*
Now that I have a fancy schmancy scanner and some mad kwezzy web skillz, it only seemed right that the two converge to form "TELEFUNNY"... your one stop shop for all my cartooning rantings and ravings. It's just a teeny baby thing now but I hope to one day grow it into a large multi-national conglomerate worth billions pumping out crap merchandise for cheap and utilizing some of the finest skilled 8 yr old hands the government run sweatshops of Malaysia can produce.
KIDDING! Like I'd ever trust a Malaysian sweatshop. China, baby...all the way!
SEE HERE
So now for all the legal stuff I suppose. Ready?
TELEFUNNY IS A FREE WEBSITE DEVOTED TO POSTING ORIGIONAL ARTWORK DEPICTING WHATEVER THE ARTIST (THATS ME) DEEMS FUNNY. THE "TELE" OF TELE-FUNNY IS DERIVED FROM THE WORD TELEPHONE, WHICH IS LATIN FOR "TELEPHONY", WHICH IN TURN IS PIG-LATIN FOR "PORNO". AND AS YOU ALL KNOW, PORNO RULES THE INTERNET, WHICH IS WHERE TELEFUNNY HAPPENS TO BE LOCATED. QUESTIONS? READ THE FAQ PORTION OF TELEFUNNY ONCE I GET ENOUGH QUESTIONS ASKED TO ACTUALLY HAVE SOME BE DEEMED MORE "FREQUENTLY ASKED" THAN OTHERS.
INCINDENTALLY, IN NO WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM SHOULD THE ARTWORK POSTED AT TELEFUNNY, THE NAME TELEFUNNY ITSELF OR THE INTENT OF THE CREATION OF EITHER OR ALL AFORE MENTIONED THINGS RELATED TO TELEFUNNY TO BE CONSIDERED AN OPINION OF ANY PARTICULAR COMPANY OR INDUSTRY, EITHER AS A WHOLE OR IN PART. HERETOFOR MENTIONED PERTICIPLES SHALL BE SEQUESTERED AND ELIMINATED FROM ALL PARTY FOR TO WITH INTERAPPLICABLY AND SOLIDORNIFICATED,THEREFORE MAKING ME TEFLON AND OH GOD I THINK I'M HAVING AN ANEURYSM.

There, now that that has been settled, I'll have my lawyers give it a once over and go from there.
Peace and remember, keep laughing, no matter what, MMMMkaY?
Geez that sounded gay.

*(Note to large corporations, newspapers, magazines and other periodicals employing cartoonists for large sums of money...disregard that. You did NOT read the first part of this story. I enjoy cash by the boatload, small bills are fine...hire me now)

Good bye,Sammy...

2005-02-05T17:05:00.000-06:00

Sosa has been traded to the Orioles.
A blog/rant to follow. In the meantime, I shall vent my frustrations in frozen water sculptures. Spring training, by the way, is almost here. REJOICE!!!!!!

The Rant That Never Was...Nyuk Nyuk!

2005-01-22T23:26:00.000-06:00

Why is it that whenever someone decides one race is superior to another race, the person chosen to be representative is a complete wreck as a human being to begin with?

I posted a rant yesterday regarding some idiot thats working the media for attention. I have deleted it, as said idiot shifted gears and used the attention he gained as a springboard for a white supremacy webste.

Yawn.

There's not much more to say, and I wont be mentioning him again, the last thing a dweeb like him, or any skinhead needs, is attention. I suggest anyone who knows who I am talking about do the same.

Peace.

"Hey bud, Let's PARTY!"

2005-01-21T07:12:00.000-06:00

Happy president's day, everyone!
Ok, so it isn't the REAL presidents day, bet hey, he's not the real president-so it's a wash. He is however, the people's choice, barely, by the hair of the last tassle on his worst pair of cowboy boots. Four more years folks, four. Get out your mad-libs and headphones, this ride is gonna be long, bumpy and probably full of pit stops to ask for directions.
What to do? I say PARTY! I say party like Jeff Spicoli. I say party til ya puke!
I say to ease the pain and dull the senses, we need to make these next four years a very hazy, foggy, bad memory. No need to dwell on details, we already know the outcome. The Iraqi elections will be a complete disaster-and no one in Washington will admit it regardless of the number of smoldering corpses of candidates piling up in the streets of Fallujah. After we claim victory in the name of freedom over there, we can regroup...turn tail and take the welcoming party to Iran, where we will again engage in a fruitless bloodbath. It's only a matter of time. And what can YOU do? Well, regardless if you are in the 51% for or 49% against, I say party till the cops show up, and try again in 4 years.
God help us, one and all.
Oh, and start here.

Who are these people?

2005-01-16T01:39:00.000-06:00

Ok, I want to know...where are they?
WHO ARE THEY?
Who, on earth, are these crazed, uptight, closet-nun soccer moms and wimpy husbands who comprise the core group of the wacko organization known as
THE PARENTS TELEVISION COUNCIL?
Even the name scares me. If I saw it on a letterhead I'd surely run away, afraid I was next to be called in the principals office for a whoopin'
They're nuts(in my opinion, and I assume litigious as well). If you have never heard of them, surely you have felt the effects of them. They are almost solely responsible for the OMIGOD's and HOW-DARE-SHE! anti-controversies that swirled around Janet's wardrobe gaff. I poked around the website the other day, and was about to write them off, when I realized just how loose behind the wheel these people are. Read any of the latest news reports and you will see for yourself. Apparently the only thing decent enough not to warrant an absolute OUTRAGE is the video of the American flag, waving as the Star spangled banner plays the station to sleep. That and one re-run of Punky Brewster, episode 4 I think.
In keeping with my New Years resolution of pissing off people who piss me off, I dropped them a line.
Enjoy.
letters@parentstv.org
Dear sirs
or Madams,
I am a proud father of two children. I watch what they eat, wear, and watch on TV. I protect them as any father should or would.
My wife and I take pride in how we raise our kids, to be good, honest,hard working members of society. With a resume' like that you would think I'd sign up to be a member of your little group, but I just can't bring myself around to seeing your point.

I understand the need for watchdog groups, but seriously, your tactics approach lower standards than what you claim to be against. Do you really want to live in a society that is so close minded and anal that any utterance of a word or slip of the tongue is met with screeching soccer moms, hell bent on making someone pay?
Apparently so, since that seems to be the aftertaste your website leaves behind.
I would not have bothered to write, and really dont care for a response, but one thing caught my eye that really solidified the fact you are nothing more than a group of extremist cry babies. The cartoon you posted,depicting a man whos child was abducted, being told by an officer all the leads came from one neighborhood, so they couldnt be followed up.
How dare you?
To equate what you do, whine about language and situations that may or may not be "indecent" to that of a father whos child has been abducted. That, to me, is indecent.In fact it borders on sick.
But I should practice what I preach...and simply not visit your site. In fact, I might just start an email campaign on my own, and collect signatures of people who promise not to join your little pity party.
Seems like the decent thing to do.

Next up, this bunch of useless-as-a-poopy-flavored-lollypop hillbillies..YEEEHAW!

Ren Loves Sheila? We will see

2005-01-15T14:45:00.000-06:00

It's now been 15 years since I promised myself I would start and eventually finish the comic book Ren Loves Sheila and so far nothing. I'm pretty certain it will never get done at this point. I'm too old to care anymore, the whole teen angst thing is long since dried up, and any time I spend on it now will be frustrating moment of me trying to remember why it was so important to start in the first place.
I wont say never, maybe not, probably not, I doubt it with a snowballs chance in hell but not never. Not yet, anyway.

G'nite, Krista puppy

2005-01-14T20:59:00.000-06:00

Dogs don't last long enough. If I had one complaint that I could take up with the big guy upstairs about the operating system he installed down here, that would be it.
Dogs die too soon and it's a bug that should be fixed. I know, there are bigger things to take up with God, especially given recent headlines. But most everything else seems to have a "master plan." At least, that's what I've been lead to believe. But nobody seems to have an answer as to why Rover's mortality rate seems to be directly opposite to how awesome the dog was to begin with.
If I had this little site a few years ago, a post very similar to this would have probably existed, but with much more anger. The day I took our bulldog Barney to the vet to be put down was a day I'd just as soon forget. But I didn't have this site to rant and rave about it back then and it's probably just as well, emotions that cut that close don't belong on blogs anyway. Silly soliloquies about Cubs, bad politics and new haircuts do. And, maybe, the occasional passing of a freinds dog.
Last night I learned that a friends dog had gone. She was getting old and suffering the usual old-doggie problems, and even her "mom" Terri found it hard to deny her days were numbered. Krista, a Lab-something or other mix was rescued by Terri years ago from the road. The bond was instantanious and Krista became Terri's first "baby."
And damnit, she was a great dog. "Krista-puppy" was all I ever called her, cupping her doggy mug in my hands and kissing her snoot. That was my greeting for her, and she always seemed to approach me for it when we visited. Once she got it, she was good, and off she went to do her thing, which was usually accepting attention and similar greeting from everyone else.
She had a soulful, passive mojo about her. I liked that. I liked her presence, it was calming. And I liked the way she was loved by her owners. Early on, the level of devotion was made unmistakable when Krista was attacked by another dog. It would have been bad had it not been for Mark, her new "dad",who ran to the attacking dog and folded it in half with one kick. The other dog lived and it's owners got an earful. Krista had gone from homeless, possibly abused to loved, really loved, and completely protected. Over the years she returned the love she got time and time again. She saw Terri and Mark get married. She welcomed 2 beautiful "siblings" and played with kids all over the neighborhood. She was a part of every function and gathering that came her way.
When it was her time to go, it was her turn to find Terri. She probably couldn't do this alone, she couldn't just "go" without saying goodbye. She collapsed at Terri's feet from a stroke, and was put down the next day.
Terri was with her all night, and I imagine they both remembered every moment they had together.
Dogs don't last long enough. Maybe they aren't supposed to. In thier own way and in thier own time they help us figure out what to do with what time we have. They have us beat in that respect. They come into our lives, do what needs to be done, and then go. We get the memories. It's a pretty great gift, and who am I to question God.

REUNION!!! WAIT...It's been HOW LONG?

2005-01-08T01:04:00.000-06:00

A few days ago at the stroke of midnight,our earth tumbled one more year closer to the Twentieth...wait that should be bold... TWENTIETH frigging year gone by since high school graduation. Jebus.
There must be some mistake!
Back-tracking the events of my life takes but a few seconds, and twenty years is just too many. Let's see, yesterday I played with the kids in the snow, the day before that I got married and, what, a week or so before that I was sweating the small stuff in 3rd period art staff with Mr. Randle busting my balls about taking life too seriously and that I should stop because one day I'd wake up and HOLY SHIT IT'S BEEN TWENTY YEARS ALREADY!!! Whoah!, no, my bad...nineteen.It's been nineteen years... Phew...ok, Im ok.
HOLY SHIT IT'S BEEN NINETEEN YEARS ALREADY!!!
I need a drink.

I have someone to thank for this wonderful~~epiphiny~~ /~~ephiphiniy~~ for this revelation...a former classmate and friend trying to get a hold of me throught that blood sucking money wasting tease of a site called classmates-dot-com. They got a slick system over there of filtering all contact except the absolute very basic of all tid bits. You sign up for free, just enough to get a foot in the door and then the second you glance a name from years gone past WHAMMO they spring the fine print (and do so with the most refined smarmy-ness I have ever seen)
Found someone you know? Remember them from way back when? Dying to drop a line and say hi? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? THEYRE DYING TO HEAR FROM YOU, TOO, AND YOUR EVER SO CLOSE TO MAKING THAT HAPPEN!!! just pay this amount or that and we can hook it up!"

Bah! I say! It'll be a cold day in hell before they get a dime out of me! No sir, not this cowboy. Hell, I'm not even a cowboy! Where was I? Oh right...
It's driving me nuts. Sure,there's a few names listed I wouldnt mind seeing, a few I wish would sign up, and then theres Aimee. She's was a cool chick, probably still is. Her bio begins to mention she had kids and then she...*POOF, want more? PAY UP!
Well, good for her, I'm just hoping her bio doesn't end with "...the adadictome was a complete success and I finally changed my name to Frank." Not that theres anything wrong with that, but I'll be damned If I'm paying for that kind of thing when it's free at the YMCA. Not that I'd know. Where was I?
Oh yeah...
I'm old. Getting older. I wanted to go to the the reunion, sorta, but not really. I don't remember those people, I didnt hang with many people from H.S. and the few I did hang out with vanished after I got married. High School was the most stressful time of my life as far as family was concerned. I resigned myself early on to not revisit some of those moments and most of those people. I'm convinced I blocked a lot out as well. Hell, just the other day I found a binder filled...FILLED with notes passed to me froma girl I dated back then. Leafing through it, I was amazed at how I had forgotten almost every player in them, including most of the details about the girl I dated as well.

I dunno. What to do. Twenty years, huh? Well...I suppose It's worth a shot at seeing some old friends,(Jim, Russ,Aimee-aka-Bambi) and a chance to see how far some of the mighty have fallen (the entire football team)
I'll think about it. In the meantime, Aimee, email me like normal people do if you can decipher my "classmates" code. I'll be looking for it.
Peace,

"I got a bad feeling about this..."

2005-01-05T23:15:00.000-06:00

His name is Jeff Tweiten, and he has an obsession. I understand the obsession. I have understood the power of the dark side of this force for as long as I can remember. It's an obsession rivaled only by my passion for a perpetually losing baseball team. It is a passion for Star Wars and it's a deep one.
I fully realize that, by admitting this, I run the risk of showing my true identity...a total closet geek with a side of general Sci-fi nerdosity. (I also fully realize that since no one reads this but me I don't much care.) It's not like it's a big secret anyway, come over to the house sometime...the Star Wars shrine I built at the bottom of the family room stairs pretty much gives it away. Figures, cars, books,models, even old drawings of Chewie and Han Solo from when I was...let's see, last Wednesday, adorn the small corner allotted to me by the wife. Once a majestic collection, it is now but a shell of itself, like so many Jedi masters glowing in the perifery. I love what is left, and shun any attempt at my "grown up" self to sell it off on ebay once and for all. With luck, it will accompany me to the retirement home years from now.
But enough about me, what do YOU think of me? I digress.
Back to Jeff for a moment. In the tightly drawn circle of fanatics like us it is not so hard to understand the desire, wish or even need to sit and wait, and wait...and.....wait. 5 months is a big bite to swallow for any fan, (especially this Chicago cowboy, folks, it aint happenin') But Jeff seems like he might be made of the stuff to pull this off, based solely on the video he posted on his blog. There's a nervousness about him that screams utter devotion. It's the kind of foot-shuffling, hand wringing, chain smoking obsession one might expect from any completely twisted fan faced with the challenge of being a part of something just on the larger than life side of whatever it is that grips them. Jeff will get publicity for this, maybe more than he expected, maybe less...and maybe in ways he never imagined or expected. And while the publicity and the idea that his name has been attached to, if ever so slightly, the Star Wars phenomenon is all well and good, there is a deeper payoff to all of this. The fleeting 15 minutes of fame we all are allotted mean so much more when they come as a result of chasing our passions. Way to go Jeff, stay warm...get used to raman noodles and creative urination and, as always, may the force be with you.
Yanno, to this day I can't hear those words and not want to reply..."and also with you..." Must be the Catholic in me :)