Janitor: Them's Fightin' Words

One of the wonderful things about being a "janitor" is the respect you get from other people. I personally don't consider myself a janitor, I view myself as a Floor Care Professional. Janitor is a very broad term. Floor Care Professional is an exact term for a very specialized field of the cleaning industry. Anyhow, back to the original statement. Of course, it was a sarcastic statement, because people, well, some people, don't view you as an expert of anything, thus they give you about as much respect as the guy living out in the dumpster in the alley. What brings all this on is an account of ours that we have been doing for more than 5 years got themselves a brand new building. They had been in a retched dump up until moving into the new building. For the 5 years we cleaned the other dump, the people in charge, both from local management and corporate management, have been impressed with how we have been able to make a dirty, gross, dump, into a presentable place to do business. To my way of thinking, we have proved our worth and shown that we know what we are doing. But, with a new building comes new expectations. From the day we started the construction cleanup in the new building, our ability to handle such a "large undertaking" has been called into question. You see, the new building is around 30,000 square feet. Yet, no matter how much we would remind them that we did a construction cleanup that was 200,000 square feet, they would still think we were over our head. I guess I shouldn't really say "they", it was more or less one person that was worried. The guy we answer to, who is basically the Maintenance Manager (and a moron) was the main person giving us grief. The guy is a jack of all trades and master of none. He will tell us things we need to be doing that make no sense whatsoever. For example, the flooring they put in is similar to what you would find in a Target, which is called VCT, only it's made to look like planks of wood. But you are supposed to care for it exactly like you would VCT, but, the doofus tells us that it is a "no maintenance" flooring. All we have to do is sweep it and mop it, scrubbing it occasionally. I request the specifications from the manufacturer, and tells me the exact opposite, sweep, mop, buff after applying a minimum of 3 coats of finish. So, the guy is kind of like that scene in Ace Ventura: Pet Detective where Jim Carrey comes into the police station and starts "talking out of his butt" to his buddy. Yep, the guy has no clue, so he just talks out of his butt, and lately he has been doing it a lot. I have a theory on why he's been such a pain lately. In the old building, the place was so incredibly dilapidated that the expectations for him were very low. Most of the time if you came in to talk to him about something, you would enter his office and he would be watching television. Yet, you would look around and see about a dozen things the guy could be doing. Now, in the new building, he too has new expectations. Only, with him, ironically, he is the one that is over his head. In the old place, when he did do something, it was usually done in a very poor fashion. (What I really want to say is, Half-@$$ed, but I won't. (By the way, that's not really a link to anything.)) Now, he can't do things that way, and he is freaking out. I think he knows his job is on the line.

I guess my point to all this is that, being in the janitorial industry is a pretty humbling experience. He have to take orders from people that think they are smarter than you, and eat crow on a daily basis. Maybe that's why most "janitors" have a big-ol'-belly. At any rate, if you have an opportunity, give a cleaning person a hug today. They will probably be really scared at first, and may cut you with their retractable razor blade, but when you explain your reason for the hug, they just might not slap you with that Sexual Harassment lawsuit. Won't that be nice!

Yo, Dude, Who Did Your Ink?

After noting an ad for tattoo removal training, I was reminded of something I saw the other day while at my local builder supply store. Two very large individuals with tattoos that must have got the tats much earlier in life, when they were, oh let's say, 100 pounds lighter. The gentleman, and I use the term loosely, had a tat on the back of his calf of a pinup girl. Strange place for a pinup girl, but his calf was so jiggly that it made his pinup girl look tubby. Yes, this is just one example of people not really thinking out the tattoos they get. Maybe if he could see the back of his calf, he would notice his pinup girl doesn't look as nice as it once did and he would have the incentive to drop some of those added pounds, if only for her sake.

Another bad decision that it seems more and more people are making, is the decision to get inked on the neck, or face. Almost any other place a person could get a tattoo, they could cover it up with clothing if they needed to. What are you going to do when you go on a job interview, and you have to stare at your future boss with a tattoo on the side of your neck of an Uzi, or an exgirlfriends name. Or worse yet with a tat on your cheek of some tears, which may or may not indicate that you have killed someone. Please, tell me, what are people thinking when they get tattoos on these locations? They must be thinking they are going to make it big as a rock star, or are just going to sell drugs the rest of their life. Then you have the people that actually think that just because they have a tattoo on their neck, they shouldn't be judged because of it. I am sorry, but I really don't want to send in a scary looking dude with tattoos from his ankle to his neck to my accounts where they have to work among my customer's customers. If you have a problem with that, move to California where they are a little more excepting of those types of things. If California is too far for you, I am sure Council Bluffs will work for you.

Yes, it's these people that makes me think getting into tattoo removal is not a bad idea at all. So, click on the ad and start your journey on your new career!

Too Much Information (It's not what you think)

Still a little grumpy today, but for a new reason. It's because of a certain jerk that felt the need to put an apostate link on my blog, most likely because he searched for blogs with God's name in it. I have deleted said link, and have enacted a security measure for those that post, so we will not have this problem again. But what makes me mad is I had to delete "Jehovah" from my profile so as to not attract more idiots. I always kind of questioned if I should have the divine name in my blog, if for no other reason, that I wouldn't bring shame to his name. But now because some bozo comes wandering into my blog and feels the need to post lies about my religion, I feel it best to remove God's name, so I won't attract more bafoons. To any that may have seen or read the link, I apologize for allowing it to come into my blog. Had I had the security measures installed already, it wouldn't have happened. All I know is he better have clicked on all the ads while he was here! It's the least he could do. You know what, on second thought, I don't want his clicks, I just want him to stay away!

This actually is related to a subject that I have been wanting to write about lately. It is amazing to me how people are so credulous when it comes to information on the web, in the news, in books, and so on. For instance, this ninny that left the link, in the link, there was a brief description of the website it would take you to. The description was full of lies about my religion. Yet, people will go there, read all of those lies, and those people take that info hook line and sinker. When if those people would do some honest research from honest sources, they would come away with a totally different view. The problem is, what is an honest source? For the most part, if you want to find a certain opinion about a certain subject, it's out there if you look hard enough. Let's say for instance I am a diabetic and I want to find information about what foods are the best to eat when my blood sugar is low. Sure, there are all kinds of books and websites that say complex sugars, such as fruit, and juice are best. But what I want to hear is CANDY! With out too much digging, I can find a book and/or a website, maybe even a quack doctor, that says simple sugar is best. This is an example of how too much information is actually disinformation. Flood society with information, and before long, most people don't know what the truth is anymore. And that is where we are today. So, how do we filter out all the crap? Go straight to the source. If you want to know about diabetes, go to the American Diabetes Association, or http://www.diabetes.org/. Or if you want to learn about a certain religion, say Catholics, go to their website. But, supposedly the Catholic religion is based on the teaching of the Bible, so then you have to compare what they say with the teaching of Jesus and the Bible. Otherwise you are just back to taking someones word for it.

So, don't be gullible. In fact, stop reading my blog. It is just more information in an already saturated information age. As for me, I think I will pack up my multi-tool, wife, and dogs, and go live in the mountains where the only information is what you see around you. Ah, yes, give me the simple life!

Grumpy Gus

I am feeling a little grumpy today, so if you came looking for sunshine, you came to the wrong damn place. But tune in tomorrow, the weather man is saying clear and sunny, unless my aunt drives me up a wall at our family gathering. Anyhow, on with the show, er, blog, whatever.

The source of my petulance is my basement bathroom project. It seems that no matter how hard I work on the thing, there are still a million little things to do. If it's not painting, it's caulking. If it's not light fixtures, it's door hardware. And the list goes on. It just always blows my mind that projects can, not necessarily around here, but they can, be moving along so fast, but then when you get down to the final details, it slows down to a snails pace. To make matters worse, next week we have our district convention here in town, and we have a house full of people scheduled to stay with us for it. I don't want to have to mess with anything after they leave. I want everything DONE. I guess it kind of my own fault. Maybe if I hadn't been dragging my feet all this time, I wouldn't be scrabbling to get done. But, there is this item you need when you are working on a remodeling project. It's called money, and we didn't have any. Story of my life, if I have the money, I don't have the time, and if I have the time, I don't have the money. Funny how that works. But, and here is a positive note for all you sunshine lovers, not only do we have the means, we also have the time. It may not be as much as I need, it's time none-the-less, and by any means necessary, I will finish this never ending project. Then, after we have all of company, I will then complete the next never ending project. Just as The Little Engine That Could said, "I think I can! I think I can!"

HEEEHE! WOOO!

Okay, I know the dude was a freak, but I can't help but share some of my Michael Jackson memories because there was a time when Michael Jackson was cool. Most, if not all, of what I am about to share with you is embarrassing, so the thought of sharing these MJ memories has me feeling a bit ill at ease. Please bare in mind that I was in the 5th grade when Thriller came out, so I didn't know any better.

Memory 1) A friend of mine, that most of you know, but I won't mention his name, we used to have dance contests to see who could imitate MJ's moves. I always lost. I could never moon walk effectively. It always just looked like I was just walking backwards.

Memory 2) I used to have a MJ sticker collection. There was a short lived phase where stickers were "the next big thing". So, imagine how popular I was having several pages of Michael Jackson stickers.

Memory 3) Now for the most embarrassing one. Somehow, I found out what MJ's address was and I wrote him a letter and asked him to call me. For weeks, every time the phone rang, I would get a lump in my throat and the butterflies would start going. I made the mistake of telling one of my older friends that I did this. For the next year, every time I saw him he would say, "Did he call?". And I saw him at least twice a week. Looking back on it now, I am surprised he didn't call, considering I was 11 or 12 at the time. That was right up his alley!

Memory 4) The friend that I used to dance with (how am I not gay!) and I rewrote Billie Jean, with funny (or at least what a 12 year old and a 10 year old thought were funny) lyrics. What's more, we even recorded us singing our new song. We had the song playing in the background on one tape deck, and then we recorded on a second tape deck. It worked, more or less. What scares me, is that his mom is the type to save those kinds of things. There is a chance the tape still exists.

Well, I think that is enough baring of my soul for one day, maybe even a life time. I am feeling very vulnerable right now. So please, be gentle. And remember, I'LL BE THERE...

I am a Realist

So, I looked at the results, thus far, to the poll question. Most of you like things just the way they are. That's good to hear, because I really had no plans on changing the way I have been doing things. But by all means, if you haven't voted yet, please do so. For the one person that said I need to be more positive, please note that this blog is entitled, Stinkin Lincoln, how positive did you think it was going to be? Even so, I will try to be a touch more positive. It's hard for me because being positive does not run in my family. You see, we like to refer to ourselves as realists. Some misconstrued this as negativity, but in reality, we are just big believers in Murphy's Law. Imagine the great joy we derive when everything goes as planned. Would you rob us of this? If so, shame on you! Now, I do admit, that I have a tendency to dwell on the negative. This self awareness is the reason I put that in the poll. I would love to be that person that has a ray of sunshine coming out of his butt all day, everyday. On second thought, no I wouldn't! Those people are annoying! Not to mention, they are the kind of person that one day they get an AK-47 and shoot up a church bake sale. That big toothy grin and incessant giggle is all a cover for someone that has too much stress and pressure in their lives. I am not that person. I look at everything with the potential to be good, but don't necessarily expect it to go that way. I am always wondering what could go wrong. As a result, I am always problem solving in my head. It's kind of fun, you should try it. I remember when I was a little kid, if my dad would run into the store, or bank and would leave me in the car (don't worry, the windows were rolled down in the summer), I would be sitting there thinking, if someone tried to kidnap me, what would I do? I would have this whole scenario in my head of how I was going to free myself from my kidnapper. I am sure this was the result of being an only child and having an overactive imagination. Yep, try being a little negative every once in a while. The life you save may be your own.

Sell Out!

You can say it. Go ahead. That's right, go ahead, make my day! Yes, I sold out. Attempting to make ends meet, I am now a sponsored blog. I can not divulge the details of my contract (too much fine print). But, I am sure I will now be able to retire on the huge incentives I receive for allowing random people advertise on my blog. I am sure millions of people will be clicking on the ads so I can make my pennies. I can hear my two fans now, "I remember him when he was small, and down to earth, now he won't even look at my comments." Don't worry, I will never forget the little people, no matter how small and inconsequential they are. That's right, stand in my giant shadow and seek shelter from the blazing sun, you little person.

On another note, please notice the poll that is in the left hand margin. The poll is designed to help me help you with your Stinkin' Lincoln cravings. Also, I have a link to some Husker stuff for those that like Husker stuff. And who doesn't like Husker stuff!

Horrid Weather = Great Garden

It seems that everybody is sick of the heat already. Everybody, that is, except the plants in my garden. While the rest of us were enjoying the nice cool, almost perfect, spring, my garden was just putting along. The garden did pretty well in the sense that all the seeds I planted came up, and all the plants I bought did reasonably well, save for the one tomato plant that died. But it seemed as though the plants were not getting as big as they normally do. I did everything I religiously do for my garden. I went to the dump and got a truck load of compost mixed with black dirt and added it to the top of my garden. I have kept it relatively weed free. I added Epsom salt to the tomatoes and peppers. I fertilized all my plants. The only thing I didn't do as much as I should have was water more. But the garden was watered at least 3 times a week. Even with all of this, the garden did not thrive as much as it has in years past. Last year I had people driving by, stop and tell me they had never seen such beautiful tomato plants. For the record, they were quite lovely. But this year it had not lived up to my expectations. That is until the heat, humidity, and rain came. You can do all the gardening you want to. You can water as much as you can. But nothing, NOTHING, beats a good rain and some humidity to make plants happy, especially tomato plants. Though I hate this type of weather, I will tolerate it as long as it gives me a bountiful harvest. If it doesn't, I may as well move to Canada. Toss me a Molsen, eh.

"It's Like a Sauna In Here!"

What is it with this heat!? This time of the year I always find myself wondering what's worse, winter, or this part of summer? I always come to the same conclusion. It's winter, hands down. At least this time of year you have the sun about 5 hours longer, the scenery is a million shades of green instead of 100 shades of brown, and if you get too hot, you can either go swimming or take a cold shower and sit butt naked in front of a fan set at high speed. I have never actually done that last thing, but my cousin who lives in Australia says that is how he has survived his first summer "down under". Apparently, Aussies are very at one with the heat, as he put it. Very few people have air conditioning, even though summers in Australia are much like being on the surface of the sun. Before they were married my cousin's wife to be came to visit him in Nebraska, and for some strange reason, she came during winter. It's important to keep in mind that Australian winters consist of a not-so-frigid 50 degrees. So, when she had to deal with a real winter, temperatures in the 20's and snow, she thought she might die. All because she is used to warmer temperatures. What does that say about you and I? (or is it you and me?) I love it cool. To me, 68 degrees is the perfect temperature. No matter if it is winter or summer, my thermostat is set at 69 degrees. I realize that I like it cooler than most people, but I am willing to bet that most Americans like it cooler than most Aussies. We are spoiled rotten. I sometimes find myself wondering how people survived during the summer before the advent of the glorious invention that is air conditioning. I can't imagine trying to sleep on a night that says it is 71 degrees, but is at 94% humidity, and that is at the beginning of summer. We will no doubt see nights in the 90's with 94% humidity. Yet, people 50 years ago did it every summer and without the aid of A/C. I remember when I was living with my parents, there were a few summers my dad was trying to save money, most likely during our last recession, talk about your miserable nights. There is nothing like trying to sleep when you are sweating like a fat man at a tax audit. When it got really bad, I would get a wet wash cloth and put it on my head until I would finally fall asleep. Flash forward to our day, and I can't sleep if it's 72 in our house. A few times we have attempted summer camping and I didn't sleep a wink. (What does that mean exactly, "didn't sleep a wink"?) Yep, we are spoiled rotten. Now excuse me while I turn my thermostat down another degree. Why? Because I can. Plus it helps me cope with Stinkin Lincoln.

Shower Power

We have entered a new dawn. Yes, the sun is shining on my household. Why, you ask? Let me tell you. For the first time in nearly a year, I took a shower in my own home. No, I didn't go "no poo", nor was this some environmental awareness ploy to further the "Go Green" movement. We simply didn't have a shower. Yes, that's right, 11 months of baths. Eleven months of sitting in my own filth. Sometimes I would get out of the tub and look at all the dirt left behind and wonder if I needed to take another bath since I was just sitting in that muck. I will say, though, baths in the winter aren't all bad. For one, our basement currently doesn't have any duct work in it, so it gets pretty chilly in the winter. So, running upstairs after getting out of the shower was sometimes quite brutal. Plus, hot showers in the winter are enjoyable, but nothing beats a hot bath on a cold day to warm you up. Conversely, cold baths on a hot summers day, in a word, suck. Nothing beats a cold shower to cure what ails you. (Insert your own joke here)

You may be wondering what necessitated the use of the tub. Well, we remodeled our basement bathroom. It was something that needed to be done. I think that bathroom was added on in the 40's or early 50's when they didn't have building codes or, apparently, brains. We had a slight problem with mold in the old shower because of the way it was built. The shower was built in such a way that the water would hit you right in the face the whole time you were in there, with nowhere to retreat. It was like Chinese water torture. Where they put the toilet, when you would be sitting to take care of your business, your elbows would each be resting against the adjacent wall, which would from time to time result in a bang, followed by some choice words, usually involving a curse of the bathroom and how I needed to remodel. So, when a tree fell on one of our trucks and totalled it, we decided to use the money for a new bathroom. Of course, the bathroom ended up costing double what we figured, but that's the way it goes with do-it-yourself projects. It always takes way more time and money, neither of which are in abundance around here. But, when I took my shower, it was amazing to not have water pounding you in the face. In fact, it was like showering in a giant room, instead of a telephone booth. When I sit on my throne, it's amazing to not be banging my elbow on something. So, if you find yourself in Stinkin' Lincoln, and would like to take a shower, come on over. You will be amazed!

Everybody Get Dangerous!

I bought the new Weezer CD a while back and finally got a chance to listen to it on the way to our canoe trip. It's a little different, but what Weezer CD isn't. There is one song where they are talking about how it's amazing they are alive considering all the dangerous things they did when they were younger, including, but not limited to, bad driving when with a car load of friends. That song got me thinking about my younger days behind the wheel, and I, too, am lucky to be alive because of all the dangerous driving decisions I made, especially when with a carload of friends. It seemed to be the worst from 17-22 years of age. That first year of driving, I was scared spitless that I was going to kill myself driving, so I was old man cautious. But, by the time I hit 17 I was overly confident and thought I was a driver in the NASCAR circuit. There is one occasion in particular that sticks out in my mind. There was a scavenger hunt that some friends put together, there were probably 6 cars with 4 people in each car. Before we would receive our list of things we were supposed to scavenge, we were given a series of clues that would eventually lead us to the list of items we were to try to find so we could score points off each item. Depending on how difficult it would be to find the item, it would effect how much that item was worth. We only had a certain amount of time to find the list and then gather everything that we could off the list and head back to a designated location where we would determine the winner. Being that time was not on our side, everybody drove like a bat out of h-e-double toothpicks. I apparently am about to make another confession to my parents, because my poor parents were duped into letting me borrow their car. A 1988 Olds Delta 88. If you are familiar with the car, it wasn't the smallest car ever built. And it handled like a pig. On this one road, there was a curve that you weren't supposed to take at more than 25 mph. I think I took it at 45 mph. I ended up on the wrong side of the dotted line with traffic coming at me. Fortunately, that traffic was over a block away, because, had they been any closer, me and friends probably would have been shoveled off of Vinton Street. That is probably one of the biggest driving errors I ever made and lived to tell about it. What is it about having a bunch of friends with you when you are young that makes you lose all common sense. I guess the moral of the story is, if you have a child that wants to borrow the car so they can drive their three other friends around town, just say no. No matter how intelligent your child is, no matter how good they drive when you are with them, no matter how innocent they play it, when they are with their friends, they are doing something stupid at one point of another. Funny how the more things change, the more they stat the same.

The Crap Shoot that is Camping

One aspect of my life that kind of stinks, besides my place of residence, feet, and gas, is the fact that my life is so full. I can't just pick up and leave on a trip anytime I feel like it. There are so many times I will be driving with the windows rolled down and I think, this would be a perfect night to go camping. Quickly I take stock of the things I have to do and realize there is no way I could just run home, load up my wife, dogs, and camping gear and head out to a remote area where I can burn things until my heart is content.

The reason I bring this up is camping/canoe trips, like the one I went on this weekend, are usually planned months in advance. There are usually 16 people on this trip (not all Lincolnites are bad, actually half of them reside in Omaha, go figure) and to make sure all can make the trip we have to pick a weekend in June and hope that the weather cooperates. It is always a crap shoot. The very first year my wife and I made the trip, it was horrible. It is amazing we ever went on another canoe trip. It was cold, cloudy and WINDY. Because of how that wind was blowing right in our faces and forcing our canoe sideways the whole way down the river, my marriage was put to the test like no other time up to that point. And we weren't the only ones. Many couples now go separate down the river in one-man kayaks because of that year. This years canoe trip wasn't quite as bad as that first year, but it made a play for worst year ever. If there would have been more wind, it would have taken the cake. The clouds were threatening all day, but it only sprinkled on us a time or two. But it was the coldest weather I have ever experienced on that river, and not a ray of sunshine broke through the clouds all day. That is until we got back to camp. Once we were off the river, showered and sitting around the fire to warm up, the sun burned off all the clouds, and there was a nice light breeze to perfectly compliment the warm afternoon sun. It was perfect camping weather. For once, instead of wishing I could drop everything and head out to a nice remote spot to burn things until my heart's content, I was already doing it. It was one of the best and worst camping trips I have ever been on, all wrapped up into one. Without a doubt, it could have been worse. The day that we left, there were thunderstorms where we camped all day long and into the night. Sometimes it's really nice to have a roof over your head.

Bon Voyage!

Have to be quick today, I am going camping/canoeing! Very exciting! The only thing that is not exciting about this trip is I am still recovering from my sunburn from last weekend. So, there will be no removing of my shirt this weekend... not that there would have been had I not got a sunburn. Somethings are just better left covered.

One thing that I don't like about the campsite that we stay at is they do not allow beer. What is camping without beer? So, I usually just do my best Stinkin' Lincoln impersonation and either drink it in my tent, which feels naughty and is thus more fulfilling, or I just put it in a cup. The one nice thing about there not being beer allowed at the camp is that you don't run the risk of having the drunken idiots that tend to gravitate to the campsites next to me, usually. One time I had to knock on someones tent and tell them to SHUT UP. I am all for having a good time on a camping trip, however, when you are supposed to get up at 7am to go canoeing, that is another story. Well, I better get going, sorry, no time to proof read, deadlines you know.

Friends Rock!

Friends are pretty cool. I am fortunate enough to have many friends. Friends of all different shapes and sizes. Friends of all different colors. Friends of all different ages. Friends old and new. I am also fortunate enough to have, at the minimum, 7 close friends that I cannot remember a time when I did not know them. Being an only child, I consider some of them as my brothers. Friends make fun times all the more enjoyable. But above all, friends make tough times, bearable. There is nothing better than when a friend asks you how you are doing, and you know that they really want to know. There is also nothing more telling as when a person you think is a friend asks you how you are doing and you tell them the truth and their eyes glaze over within two sentences. Then again, if you are one of those people that when asked how you are doing and you say, "Oh, horrible! I can't figure out whether to go to Tahiti or Australia for my vacation this month. It is really wearing on me." This is especially unacceptable if your friend just had a kidney stone, his mom is in the hospital and his wife just lost her job. I am sure none of you are one of those people. I only have quality people reading my blog. So, tell me, how are doing? Thank God for friends!

iPhone? No, I Brandon.

I joined a cult yesterday. Don't worry, it's harmless. It is the iPhone cult. All hail Steve Jobbs! As you all know from a previous post (if you don't know, go back and read all my posts and send me a 2000 word essay on all my blogs by Friday!), I destroyed my phone last weekend. On top of that my contract with Alltel/Verizon has expired. Due to two very distinct facts, 1) Verizon is expensive, and 2) I am cheap, I have decided to change carriers. I did a little research, and AT&T seems to be the best for the money. I went into the AT&T store with a very open mind, if anything I was a little leery of the iPhone. Could it really be that great? I didn't look at the iPhone until the very end. First I looked at a couple Motorola and Blackberry phones. I am lost without an appointment calendar in my phone. Plus, it has become a handy luxury to have internet access on the go. Never know when I might want to blog about something. I then went and looked at the iPhone. After tinkering with it for a few minutes, I decided I was going to go with a Motorola. My friend has a similar one, and I used it after my phone was crushed in South Dakota, and I liked it. Enter salesman. He says, "It's fine if you want to get the Motorola, but what usually happens is people go home and then realize how cool the iPhone is and end up coming back to trade in their phone for an iPhone the next day. So, I will just save you a trip, you have to get the iPhone. Every salesperson here has an iPhone, nothing compares. If you get the iPhone and don't like it, bring and back and I will give you a 10% discount on the Motorola."

Of course I said, "SOLD!" I have now had it for 24 hours, and I have to say, it really is that great. I even got this case for it. It's a military grade case. Hard plastic goes over the iPhone, and a rubber skin goes over the plastic. I am sure I will find a way to break the only vulnerable spot, the screen. I guess I should be okay as long as I don't keep a multi-tool in the same pocket and then throw my body on the ground. But who would be stupid enough to do that.

Time of the Season...

I don't have any facts to back this up, so don't go around telling people that you read this somewhere you can quote from. Time Magazine I am not. Now that we have the disclaimer out of the way, let's get to the main subject of this post. I have heard, that time is all relative. To illustrate, a 6 year old kid feels that a year is a long, long time, almost infinitesimal. Yet, to a guy my age, we'll say 30-something, a year seems to fly by. The reason for these different perspectives is because of the amount of time the 6 year old and the older guy have experienced. To the 6 year old, 1 year is 1/6 of the time they have experienced in life. For the older guy, 1 year is 1/36 of the time he has experienced. Therefore, 1 year seems like a shorter period of time for the older man. Now, like I said, don't go quoting me on this, but it seems pretty logical to me. In fact, I think I will name the theory. Yes, I will call it, the Theory of Relativity.

The reason I bring up this theory is because it amazes me how each year, spring seems to come and go much quicker than when I was 6 years old. It seems like the weather just warmed up, and I just went mushroom hunting. That was almost 6 weeks ago. Soon, July will be here, and the dog days of summer will start. Then fall will arrive and we will be able to enjoy about 6 weeks of nice weather again. Followed closely by hell frozen over, a.k.a. Nebraska winter. But then the next thing you know, spring. It is just kind of scary to see time pick up speed as you get a little older. I guess it just makes me want to embrace life and keep enjoying it. I don't know if that qualifies as a mid-life crisis or not. To be honest, I don't want to have a mid-life crisis until I am at least in my early 40's. If I have one now, does that mean I will only live to be 72? That might be to deep of a subject for a Saturday evening. Let's just leave it at, I can't believe spring is almost over already. I better get crackin' on the things I need to get done around here before the snow flies. Basement, here I come!

Feelin' Hot-Hot-Hot

Today, a friend of mine and myself added on to my driveway. It really has been a work in progress for the past 3 years. Let me tell you, concrete is ex-pen-sive! As a result we have been putting the driveway in bit by bit. So, it felt nice to get it totally completed. What does not feel nice, is my killer sunburn. Currently, I am much like a Quizino's sandwich... toasted. For some reason I decided to wear a tank-top today. I haven't worn a tank-top in about 8 years. So, my formerly pasty white shoulders and upper arms are now a glowing red. Even my eyeballs seem to be burned. I am so burnt... (HOW BURNT ARE YOU!). I am so burnt that if you had some marshmallows, you could roast them by holding them over my shoulders.

Most likely, there is somebody out there that is asking themselves, "Why didn't he wear sunscreen?" Well, I did. I think maybe what the problem was, it was in my golf bag and it had been there for at least 3 years. I don't know if sunscreen can expire, or what. All I know is it didn't work worth beans. I seriously can't remember the last time I was this burnt. Apparently it's time to start think about major sun protection, if it's not too late already. The reason being, a friend of mine, who shall remain nameless, had a mole removed recently that looked "funny", and it turned out to be cancerous. The guy is younger than me! I think about all the times when this fella and myself were out playing baseball, or on the golf course and just got burnt beyond recognition out in the summer sun. Back then, it wasn't cool to put on sunscreen. You had to burn at least once a summer to get a good base tan, or at least that was the thinking. I used to think my wife was being ridiculous when she would make me put sunscreen on when we would be out in the sun for a prolonged period of time. Who knows, but now it could be the difference between skin cancer and... well, not getting skin cancer.

So, take a lesson from my lovely and smart wife, wear sunscreen if you are going to be in the sun. In the words of Bob Dylan, "Times they are a-changin'." The world climate is trying to kill us. Protect yourself. Wear sunscreen!

This has been a public service announcement. Brought to you by Coppertone.

Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King

Anybody that knows me knows that I am a huge Dave Matthews Band fan. It borders on freakish and embarrassing. You may or may not be aware of the fact that DMB had a new release Tuesday. I, of course, ordered the new CD on the internet from a place that guaranteed the CD would be on my doorstep Tuesday morning. I awoke, and it was what I imagine Christmas morning must be like, without all the pagan rituals that go along with it. I ran downstairs (more like an old man walk, because I feel like an old man when I first get up), and found that THE PACKAGE HAD NOT ARRIVED! I flew into a rage! I kicked the cat, flipped over the dining room table and smashed my guitar on the wall, just like John Belushi in Animal House. Actually, I am just kidding. My wife had already brought the package inside. My wife is also a DMB fan, but her being the wonderful lady she is, she let me open the package. I have now listened to it a couple times, so I wanted to give you my two cents worth, if you care. Even if you don't care you can continue reading just for the entertainment value alone. Though DMB has released two CDs since 2003, it has been 7 years since DMB has released anything worth while. So, would this new CD be worth the effort of opening the CD case? I believe it is. It isn't what you would call classic DMB, but it is much better than their last two releases, Everyday and Stand Up. For true, die-hard DMB fans, I think this CD is something they will be happy with. (Minor side point. This is where my grandmother would point out to me that the word fan is short for fanatic. "You don't want to be fanatical, do you? Yes, grandma, I do!) I am not saying run out today and buy the CD. No, I won't say that unless Dave and the gang give me some backstage passes, or maybe just some front row seats. I would say it even if it wasn't true for both. I am not saying it's not true, but, nor am I saying it is. So, either buy it, or don't. I really don't care. Just don't get it from Limewire, the authorities are cracking down on such things. Plus you would be taking money out of DMB's pocket, and then they might up the price of tickets, and then I would have to pay more. I can't have that. My addiction is on a budget.

Traffic Part IV: Stinkin' Lincoln "Courteous" Driver

Yes, it is time once again to revisit the topic of Stinkin' Lincoln Traffic. This will most definitely be a regular feature of this blog. After I share this installment with you, I already have 4 other traffic topics filed away in the back of my head and ready to be discussed. Maybe we will make it a weekly feature. If that is the case, this week we will strictly discuss the topic of "The Stinkin' Lincoln 'Courteous' Driver". There seems to be a trend in Stinkin' Lincoln that I have never experienced anywhere else, at least not on this scale. What I am referring to is the so called "courteous" driver. My wife and I live on one of the busier streets in Stinkin' Lincoln, but our driveway is on a side street. When we leave the homestead to go somewhere, we usually turn onto that busy street. There are certain times of the day that make that turn, especially a left turn, fairly difficult. But, after ten years of living on this corner, we have adapted to the challenge. When you see a break in the traffic, it's peddle to the medal, with no hesitation. What annoys me, is when I am patiently, and sometimes not so patiently, sitting and waiting for my opportunity to punch the gas and some bozo or little old lady decides they are going to help me out and be the "courteous driver" and stop on that busy street and let me make my turn. What usually happens is, the many cars stopped behind this "courteous" person gets mad and uses the center turn lane to pass this ignormus. So, should I have pulled onto the street, most likely I would be t-boned by the passing car, and the Stinkin' Lincoln police (to be clear, I am referring to the city as Stinkin', not the fine officers of law enforcement) probably would find me at fault. All because of the "courteous driver".
Now, it's important to know that the "courteous driver" is not solely found on the corner on which I reside. No, they are found all around Stinkin' Lincoln. They come in all shapes and sizes. My favorite "courteous drivers" are the ones that totally and completely have the right of way at a stop sign, stop light, etc. They will wave you on to go first, and sometimes will look annoyed while doing it, when all the while they are the ones with the right of way. That's why they made the rule, so everyone would know who is supposed to go first if two people tie when approaching a four-way stop. So, to all of you "courteous drivers" out there, I just want you to know that I have been driving for over 20 years now. I think I know how to turn onto a busy street all by myself, and I am a huge fan of the right-of-way rule. It brings order to the streets. Therefore, I don't mind waiting my turn. Just obey the rules of the road, and we will get along just fine.
Well, I must say, staying on point with the "courteous driver" took some restraint. When talking about driving in Stinkin' Lincoln, it's easy to get side tracked by another traffic issue. But on the bright side, I think I came up with some more topics. So, tune in next week to see what Traffic Part V brings us.

MULTI-TOOL!!!

You may have noticed in one of the comments from one of my Stinkin' Lincoln followers in an earlier post this week, that my multi-tool was brought up. What that is all about is back when I went Morrel mushroom hunting earlier this spring, prior to that trip I fulfilled a life long dream of owning a multi-tool, in this case a Leatherman. As it turned out, it came in quite handy that trip. The bottle opener alone was worth the purchase. Plus we used it to cut the mushrooms from the ground rather than plucking them, so as to not mix in any dirt with our mushrooms. Yes, these uses and others made my purchase a wise one. I had another opportunity to use my multi-tool this weekend up in Hot Springs, SD. I was one of many volunteers that helped in building a meeting place for the local congregation of Jehovah's Witnesses. It's funny when you have an opportunity to use a newly acquired multi-tool. A sweet old lady asks, 'Do you have anything that can cut this rag in two pieces?' My response, 'No, sorry, I d.... OH! WAIT, I DO HAVE SOMETHING! HANG ON!' I then fumble around for my multi-tool. Now, in which pocket of my cargo pants did I put it? Is this it? No, that's my perfectly not broken phone. Maybe it's over here... Ah, yes, here it is! All the while the poor lady is wondering what kind of a freak she asked for help? But finally, with multi-tool in hand, I proudly open up my knife and cut through her rag like a hot knife through butter. The only unfulfilling part was the nice lady wasn't nearly as impressed as I had hoped she would be. I figure she was just jealous. Then at the hotel I thought I had remembered everything. Vodka... check. Tonic... check. Lime... check. Giant cups... check. I start to put some drinks together for my friends and me after a long day at the golf cour... building project, and my buddy says, 'Did you bring a knife for the lime?' My response, 'Crrrrap! No I didn.... OH WAIT! I DO HAVE SOMETHING! HANG ON! This time though, I know exactly where it is. I open it like a seasoned veteran multi-tool handler, if there is such a thing. I cut up our limes, and we have tasty vodka tonics for all. Yes, there is nothing quite like the satisfaction that a multi-tool can bring a person. To quote Ferris Bueller, "If you have the means, I highly recommend it." Of course Ferris was talking about a Ferrari, I am talking about a $20 Leatherman. Now that, my friend, is the definition of value!