Inspired

Well, it's been a while. Pull up a chair and listen to me drone on about nothing in particular. I found myself inspired by a friend to post another blog. Flattery is a great way to get people motivated. Oh, and did I mention how great you look? Have you lost weight? Regardless, enjoy!

DOG DAYS OF SUMMER

Well, another spring has come and gone and we are into the "dog days" of summer. In the middle of this past abominable winter, I told myself no matter how hot it got this summer, I would not complain. The question is, does it count as "not complaining" if I would choose to go to the dentist, the doctor, or even have an IRS audit rather than go outside and work in the garage or pull weeds? Is it "not complaining" when I hop in the truck and sit on the black leather seats and bite my lower lip while putting my fist through the roof of the truck due to the seats being 323 degrees? Is it really "not complaining" if someone says, I sure do love this hot weather after last winter, and I have to put on a fake smile and say, "Yeah, I love it! It reminds me of the tropical heat in Mexico. I just can't get enough of it."? I guess the answer is in an old adage, "Grin and bare it."

SUMMER STORMS

As you may have read in a previous post, I enjoy storms of all kinds. Whether it be a summer thunder storm or a winter blizzard, they intrigue me in various ways. By far, the most intriguing of them all is the Supercell thunderstorm. If you have lived in the great plains for any amount of time, in all likelihood you have at least heard of a Supercell thunderstorm. For those of you challenged in the meteorological sense, a Supercell is a small storm(1-6 miles wide) that packs a big punch. It is a storm that is rotating and has a great deal of updraft, or a vortex. To dumb it down even further (not that you are dumb), most tornadoes spawn from Supercells. The picture above is a text book example of a Supercell.

I did get to see a couple rotating storms this year, but I still haven't had the treat (yes, treat) of witnessing a tornado. Now, don't go reading anything into this, I did not storm chase. I am very aware of the fact that I know just enough about tornadoes to get myself killed. But the fact of the matter is, every spring, from May to July, I contemplate the prospect of happening upon a tornado. Of course, in my head the tornado I happen upon is out in the middle of no where, and I am southwest of the tornado as it travels to the northeast. It does nothing to hurt anyone and maybe hits an abandoned barn or silo just to give me a display of it's power. But, with the way things usually go in my life, I would be locked in an all glass building with no basement, directly in the path of the tornado with no where to run, no where to hide. I guess that would probably help rid myself of my storm intrigue...if I were to survive, that is.

IN CONCLUSION

Well, those are just a few thoughts off the top of my head. Maybe next time someone compliments me on my writing skillz (yeah, that's right, I said skillz) I will put fingers to keyboard once again. And yes, this is a shameless ploy to get you to shower me with praise. But don't worry I won't let it go to my head.

Facebook, the Proverbial Can-O-Worms

I am here today to talk to you about one of the dangers of Facebook. I am not going to say it's from the devil or anything like that, that for you to decide. I am no judge. But one of the pitfalls I find in Facebook is that horrible moment when you get a friend request from someone that you have major reservations about granting that friend request. The requesting "friend" comes in many forms. You have the guy/gal from school that you either don't remember or didn't like, the relative that you don't even know, the stalker from work that decided that you and he are BFF's, and of course the person that you just plain don't like, but they are unaware of this fact.

The dilemma with all of these "friends" is what to do once you get that friend request. For some, like the guy/gal from high school that you don't remember, it's easy to click that deny button. But, your third cousin on your dad's side that you met once when you were 14 and he was 8, and haven't seen since, this is a predicament. Let's say you deny this request, what happens when dad or grandma hears you dissed your own family? But then if you accept the request, what if the "cousin" turns out to be a psychopath and befriends one of your friends and then eats them with some fava beans and a nice Chianti? Yes, this is an extreme case, but I don't know this fictitious cousin from Adam. Really, isn't it just as dangerous to "friend" a cousin you don't know as it would be to "friend" a random person you find on Facebook?

Then what about the person you know but don't like that asks to be your "friend"? I have worked hard to keep the peace and not let on that I can't stand this person. On one hand I could just "friend" this person just to continue to keep the peace. But, I really don't want this obnoxious person saying something stupid on my Facebook page. Plus, I don't want him to access to my thoughts. But if I don't accept his request, he will know that I don't think that much of him. I suppose it would be wise to find some sort of middle ground. But what could that be? Oh, I got it, how about I don't accept the "friend" request, BUT, I also don't deny it. Just leave it in limbo. But, what happens when I see this person and they say, "Hey, did you see my "friend" request on Facebook?" Then what!? Maybe this is one of the reasons why I should consider not getting involved with a "Social Networking" site. It is a slippery slope, a can proverbial can-o-worms. But, hey, do what you want, I'm no judge...sinner.

Save the Planet!

As I have mentioned in a previous blog, I am enamored with the ocean. Though I have only been in contact with it a relatively minimal amount, it is something that brings me great joy. The smell, sound, wild life, and scenery both above and below it's surface is something I feel I would never grow tired of. So, you can probably imagine how the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico makes me feel. Seeing fish and sea turtles wash up on shore already, not only saddens me, it angers me. Sadly, this is just the beginning. The Gulf of Mexico is one of the richest fishing waters in the entire world. It is an incredible ecosystem. This means there are more species of aquatic life, both enormous and microscopic, than can be counted.

I don't really consider myself a "tree hugger" in the purest sense. But, I feel one of my greatest attributes and at the same time one of my biggest faults, is my ability to feel. I have been told by many a person that I wear my heart on my sleeve. Because of this, if I see injustice it cuts me to the bone. To me, things like oil rigs in the ocean, animal poaching in Africa, strip mining, deforestation, etc., these are all things that really get to me. One of my biggest pet peeves is shortsightedness, and oil rigs, poaching, strip mining, and deforestation are all things that look at what can be had now without any regard for what our children, grand children, and great grand children will be able to have. This oil spill was preventable, but shortsighted people chose vast amounts of money over protecting the ocean. As a result, one the most incredible ecosystems in the world is in jeopardy. It's been 21 years since Exxon Valdez ran aground and spilled 11 million barrels of oil into the ocean in Alaska. Today, the ecosystem in that area has yet to fully recover. So, at my age of 37 years old, I will officially be a senior citizen by the time the Gulf Coast gets close to being back to what it is today.

The bright side is the fact that the earth is a pretty amazing place. Try as man might, the earth will never be brought to ruin. Man on the other hand, well that's a different story. We may drive ourselves extinct before we get a chance to kill "Mother Nature". At that point, the earth will be just fine.

I am going scuba diving next week, and if anything, this oil spill is going to make me enjoy my visit to the ocean all the more. It's a shame man has to destroy things before we can all appreciate what the earth has to offer. But this coming week, I am going to look a little closer at the coral and the sea turtles and really appreciate what I get the privilege to see. Hopefully, someday soon, those ruining the earth, will be ruined themselves and the next generation will get to enjoy a much more beautiful world.

Grumpy Old Man

Anger management once again pays off. I was about a gnats eyelash away from pushing some grumpy old fat guy off a ladder this weekend. But, I walked away, counted to ten and then pushed him off the ladder. No, just kidding. I actually regained my composure and just laughed at the guy. I think that may have made him more angry. So, you are probably wondering what lead up to all of this. Well, I was working at an extremely crowded construction sight, where we all had the same common goal, which was to finish. What I was working on was finish carpentry. As usual, I was working on base trim. I had a piece of 12 foot base sitting on the floor and I was going over to grab it when the grumpy old man put his ladder over the top of it so it was impossible to pick up without moving said ladder. I said to him, "Oh, actually I need to grab that piece of piece of trim you just put your ladder over."

The grumpy old man looks at the piece of base, and while stepping on to the ladder he says, "I will be done in just a minute."

Now, let it be known that the guy was done with his task in under 3 minutes. But how long would it have taken for the guy to move the ladder and allow me to get my piece of base out from under his ladder? My guess would be around 15 seconds or so. I am no math wizard, but I am pretty sure it would have made more sense for him to move his ladder, but of course I am quite biased in my stance. Didn't he, by his actions, put the project behind another 2 minutes or so? Of course all of this was frustrating, but this wasn't when I wanted to push him off the ladder. So, let's move on to the next stage of my anger pot wanting to boil over.

A few moments later after he was done screwing around on the ladder, he was coming down, and he had put a piece of ceiling tile against the wall where I was going to install the base molding. I picked up the ceiling tile to move it, and as soon as this old geezers foot hit the floor, he ripped the ceiling tile out of my hand while saying the ever so eloquent and well thought out words, "Gimme that!".

I just shook my head and as he moved his ladder, I picked up my piece of base. For the next several minutes I went about my business and did what I was set there to do, put in base. When I was finishing up my last piece, a person from the safety department came in the room and asked the grumpy old cuss if he was using the scaffolding that was blocking the exterior door that came into the room. The old poop said he would be using it again in a minute. The safety guy said, that it was blocking the entrance, so if he wasn't using it, could he please keep it out of the way. It was at this moment that my anger pot almost runneth over. The old coot said, "If they want it, they can go around and come in another door."

I looked up at him and saw that he was smiling, but after seeing his behavior over the past 15 minutes, I knew he wasn't kidding. It was at that moment that I wanted to just accidentally "bump" into his ladder. But instead, I looked at him and said, "You know, you aren't a very nice person." I then gathered up my tools and walked out of the room. Having reached my anger management capacity, I told my boss man that I had to go home and go to bed. I knew that if I had another encounter with that guy, it wasn't going to be pretty, and I would come out on the short end of the stick.

I like to look at this experience as a triumph of sorts. First of all, no grumpy old men were injured in the making of that building. And I kept my cool under some fairly adverse conditions. I may have turned the corner in my quest to rid my self of the curse of the medulla oblongata.

Laughter is the Best Medicine

Greetings friends and strangers! Tonight, I am going to embark on a journey of happiness. For those that know me, you are probably thinking, "Who is this and what have you done with Brandon!?" Well sometimes, even when you feel like curling up into a ball in some hole in the woods, you have to count your blessings. That's one good way out of that hole. Anyhow, back to happiness. This weekend was pretty nice. I had the opportunity to spend time with some dear old friends, and to hopefully make some new friends. To have people you can call friends is pretty special. There are many people that go throughout life that either don't have time for friends, or are too concerned with getting ahead in life, therefore walking all over people that might otherwise be friends. I won't even get into the people that are too strange to have friends, this might divert us from the journey. I am fortunate to have people that overlook my bad qualities (and there are many) and accept me for who I am. I am not saying I don't try to change those bad traits, my friends are just patient while I am working those things out. Heck, I have a few friends that has been patient with me as long as I can remember, even if I have been working on not being a blunt jerk for that entire time. (Believe it or not, it's gotten better.)

It was a nice variety of settings that our interactions took place. One night it was with good wine (or in my case, beer) and good food around a fire the next night it was at a giant round table in a restaurant, also with good beer and good food. Another common thread was laughter. To put it simply, laughing is pretty great. It seems that for that period of time when you are laughing with friends, all the troubles that we all battle in the daily rat race take a back seat. I believe this can have a healing affect. I'm no doctor, but if your blood pressure goes down, and even for a short time you can just relax instead of being so blasted tense, that has to be good for you. So, my prescription for life is laughing with friends. Do take with alcohol. Will not cause drowsiness. Take on a full stomach. Please take as directed.

"Send a Janitor on Vacation Foundation"

In an effort to get myself out of Stinkin' Lincoln, I have started down a path never travelled by myself. EBay! Oh sure I've purchased many items on EBay. According to my "Feedback Score", I have purchased 28 different items over the last several years. Usually concert tickets and the occasional janitorial supply. But now I have taken on the selling aspect of EBay. And you know what, it's kind of fun. My wife told me that if I sell all the things I have been tucking away like the pack rat I am, I can use the money towards my trip south of the border.

The first item I sold was my scuba regulator. Though the goal with that was to upgrade to a better scuba regulator, I couldn't believe the "high" that I got when I received the email that informed me that my regulator had sold. Next thing you know I am going through boxes in the attic, boxes in the basement, and boxes in the garage to find things that I may be able to sell. (In case you haven't figured it out, I have what they call an addictive personality.) Over the past week or so I have put approximately 15 items on EBay to try and sell, of which, half have sold already. What really blows me away, is usually when I get into something like this, my lovely wife gets frustrated because she feels, and is probably right, that I am wasting time. But here are two things that drive my wife crazy:

1) Clutter

2) A Tight Budget

So for her, my new found obsession is awesome. Much of the junk, i.e., clutter, that has been building up around here is slowly be sent off to various parts of the country. Then the trip that I am going on in a month or so was going to make the budget a little tight. But now, I am raising my own capital to use as spending money in Mexico. Yep, she is a happy camper. The only problem is I am starting to run out of things to sell. That's where this story takes an unfortunate turn for my bride of nearly 14 years. You see, my wife's sister and brother-in-law are in town. They recently moved out of Stinkin' Lincoln and perhaps went to one of the few places that is worse than here, Stinkin' Bowman, North Dakota. Anyhow, since they are back in town, they are picking up the last of their belonging that are still here. The brother-in-law, who is one of the most generous people I have ever met, sees the fun I am having selling things on EBay and decides to make a few donations to, what I call the "Send a Janitor on a Vacation Foundation". (I wanted to call it the "Send a Janitor to Mexico Foundation", but with all the Hispanics that are in cleaning, I didn't want it to sound like a political statement.) At first he just gave me some tools he had that were pretty old, or as we like to say in the EBay selling biz, "vintage". But then it got a little out of hand. The brother-in-law heads to the grocery store and to just grab a couple things for their trip back to North Dakota tomorrow. After a while, my wife, her sister and myself are all wondering where Joe is. (Names have been changed to protect the innocent, as well as the guilty.) My sister-in-law calls him up and he says, I'm in the middle of something, I will call you back. I say to my sister-in-law, he must be getting you a present or maybe some flowers. But boy was I wrong. He was getting me something instead. On his journey to store, he spotted a yard sale that was a "ONE DAY ONLY EVENT!", so he had to stop. He looks around and quickly spots a couple large boxes of trading cards. He tells the guy he will take them all. The guy says, "I have two more boxes in the house," and Joe says he'll take them. So, imagine my wife's expression when Joe walks in with a 4 boxes of trading cards. Baseball, football, NASCAR, even some Batman and 007.

Needless to say, I appreciate the donation. However, I have to move things fast before my wife's head explodes. The problem is, everybody and their mother has baseball cards on EBay. There was a time when it was a popular and booming business. Not so much anymore. Cards that were worth $15-20 back when I collected in the 80's and early 90's are worth $8. That wasn't the direction we saw that going back then. For once I made a wise decision and sold the cards when they were worth something. So, I think I am going to have to get creative. Maybe sell them by team, or something like that. All I know is the approximately 30,000 cards have got to go somewhere, they just can't stay here.

Spring Has Sprung

As I was pulling up to the neighborhood coffee shop, I noticed there were no parking spots near the popular coffee emporium. I drove about half a block down, parked and hopped out of the truck into the delightful warm sun. As I walked to the coffee house, in my shorts and t-shirt, I was reminded of a few short weeks ago when the same thing happened. Only then it was about 14 degrees, I had my winter coat on, and flannel lined jeans. I thought to myself, "It's funny how you don't mind parking a little ways away when the weather is nice."

A couple days after the trip to the coffee shop, I had some things I needed to do around the house. After running up stairs and downs stairs for a while I started noticing how warm it was getting in the house. I figured the thermostat must have been set too high. But to my surprise the heat wasn't on, yet it was 76 degrees in the house. I needed some things out in my garage, which detached from the house. I stepped out and I couldn't believe hot warm it was. I checked the thermometer and it said 85! I thought to myself, "So that's why it's so hot in the house!". Next thing you know I am greeted by two slobbering, panting, and hot English Mastiffs. I noticed their massive water bowls were all but empty, aside from a thick gelatinous liquid that most definitely was not water. I then empty the Mastiff goo out of the water bowls and refilled them. The dogs greedily lapped up the water in nothing flat. I headed to the garage to get what I needed and as I approach the dogs, they both are still looking quite hot. So, I grabbed a rag to wipe off their dripping faces, and asked them if they wanted to come in. Usually at that point they will either come in if they want to, or stay outside if they don't. When I asked them, they just both plopped down in the sun, and one even rolled over on her back. Even the dogs are happy winter is over.

Today I was driving around a bit, and I noticed a Magnolia tree was starting to blossom. Seeing that made me what to jump up and down, but I was driving so I thought it was better that I didn't. A few blocks down, a tree is starting to get it's leaves. As I continued on I see a Maple tree budding out. Then I get home and notice how green our grass is getting. I looked beside the garage where I planted Vinca Minor last year and the plants had hundreds of little flowers about to bloom.

Oh my goodness! It happened! The winter from a frozen over hell has ended. The scientist said it had to happen but I was starting to doubt them. The worst winter I can ever remember is done, and spring has sprung. (I'm a poet, and didn't knowit.) Yippy!!!

My Love Affair with the Ocean

Many of you that know me, and that are my Facebook friends and so forth, know that I have been raving, perhaps to the edge, if not falling off the edge in to pure crazy, about scuba diving, the ocean, islands, the beach and everything that goes with it. My wife can attest to the fact that I may go a bit overboard with my new found love of scuba diving. But allow me to explain myself.

Ever since I was a little kid, actually it's more accurate to say, as long as I can remember, I have always had a fascination with the ocean, especially with warm sunny beaches and it would be even better if it was on an island. I have no idea why, especially when you take into account that I live smack dab in the middle of the country, and the closest salt water is in the Gulf of Mexico a minimum of 16 hours away by car. (Maybe that's it in a nutshell.) Though I can't explain the fascination, there is no question it has always been there. When I was 7 or 8 years old, I had this dream (and isn't life just a sweet dream at that age) that when I turned 16 I was going to hop into my red convertible 1972 Olds Cutlass 442 and take a road trip to California with another dreamer friend of mine. When reality struck, the only part of that dream that came true was I was driving an Olds Cutlass. Only, it was a white 1976 Gutlass Supreme, a major hunk of junk that my parents bought me for $300. (My dad later said he wanted as much steel around me as possible while I was getting used to driving) However, when I turned 17 I got my chance to go to California and see my beloved beach. A family I have been close to my whole life was going to L.A. and asked if I wanted to join them. Next thing you know, I sold my baseball card collection and paid my way to California and had spending money to boot. (HUGE baseball card collection. I sold it at the perfect time.) We didn't get to spend a ton of time at the beach, but we did spend an afternoon at Huntington Beach. We got in the water and goofed around in the waves. That's when I got my first taste of ocean water. Later we found out that the water was only 65 degrees, but we had a great time. We were from Nebraska, we didn't know any better.

The next time I found myself at the ocean was nearly 10 years later in Bar Harbor, Maine. It was beautiful to look at, but Maine in September is not a good time to jump in the ocean. But, I remember just standing on the beach just staring out into the ocean. It was amazing. But still, not what I was looking for, not exactly.

After a few views of the ocean in Washington state, and San Diego, California, I finally got my chance to do the real thing. An island get away! I flew to Grand Cayman with a couple friends. I remember standing outside the airport waiting for my buddy and his wife to get the rental car. I was thinking, "I don't think I have ever been anywhere this hot and this humid." That's saying a lot when you are from Nebraska. Not many places can compete with our humidity level. But in Cayman, it was so humid it felt like you needed your scuba gear on just to breath. The next day, we headed out to the dive sites. From the moment I got into that water and once I calmed down about going 65 feet under water, it's like I was home. It sounds cliche, but it's true. The ocean, islands and scuba diving was everything I thought it would be and more. Which is amazing when you think about it. How many times has a person said, "Oh! You have GOT to see that new movie, it will blow your mind!", or "Dude! You have GOT to eat at this new restaurant, it's AMAZING!", only to see the movie or eat at the restaurant and be utterly disappointed. But, for me, the ocean was everything I had built up in my mind for 36 years, only better.

So, that is why I am obsessed with the ocean and scuba diving. I don't remember a time I wasn't in love with the idea of the ocean. Maybe it was all the Beach Boys and Jan and Dean that my dad and I listened to together? But regardless of the reason, I love the ocean.

Pit Bulls: Image vs. Reality

Growing up, I was a cat person. My family always had at least one cat, usually two. My parents still are cat people, but now they have 3 cats. But that is a blog for another time. Anyhow, my wife on the other hand, has always been an animal person. She can't even look at a stray cat or dog, or even turtle for that matter, without wanting to bring it home. But, if I had to pigeon hole her into a category, I would say she is a dog person. In fact, it was her family's dog, Pepper, a Dalmatian, that started me on the path to becoming a dog person. As most of you know, we now own two English Mastiffs, Lucy (8) and Howard (3). I went from being a little bit afraid of dogs (after being bit twice, you get a little traumatized), to having virtually no fear of dogs. Owning the breed of dog that is in the Guinness Book of World Records for largest dog will make most other dogs seem a bit underwhelming.

However, there are dogs that I have a very deep respect for, and won't just go running up to them and starting rubbing their belly. The one that is on top of that list is Pitbull. I am sure just the mention of this breed made half of you turn on the light, make sure the doors are locked and the cat is in. Afterall, they are the most vicious and heartless dog on the planet. They are a killing machine. At least that is what the media has gotten all of us to think. I will admit, that for the longest time, I felt that it was just in the nature of the Pitbull to attack even when unprovoked. But, without a doubt in my mind, the Pitbull is one of the most misunderstood animals in existence, right up there with sharks. Yes, some Pitbulls do attack. Yes, some are vicious. But, to say, in a blanket statement, that all Pitbulls are bad and the breed should be exterminated is ridiculous. Why?

Whether a Pitbull will be aggressive, and evil comes down to just a few factors. Really, they are factors that determine whether or not ALL dogs will be aggressive and evil.

1) BREEDING

One of the biggest problems in the dog community is "backyard breeding". You get some addlepated buffoon that thinks they can make a quick buck by letting their two Pits make babies. That's why if you get ANY puppy, you really are better off getting one from a respected breeder. Most respectable breeders do their best to either breed certain characteristics in or out of their puppies. They can do this with physical attributes such as color, size, and health, as well as the dogs temperament, i.e. personality. Almost ALL backyard breeders don't think to do this or even care if it's done. Also, backyard breeders will sometimes be extremely irresponsible about the dogs they breed. With all the inbreeding going on in those backyards, the backyard in which they are being breed should be known as Kentucky. (Sorry to any friends I used to have in Kentucky.) Believe it or not, their is incest in the animal kingdom. When I was 5, my parents got a retarded cat from my aunts farm. For the 14 years he lived, he would be laying on your lap purring away, then next thing you know he was trying to claw out your eyes. That was an example of farm cat inbreeding. The same thing results in the canine world. You breed a brother and sister together that are both angry dogs, what do you think you are going to get? You are going to get Charles Manson in a dogs body only not quite as charming.

2) Socialization

All dogs need to have interaction with both other dogs, and other people than just their owner. If you have a dog that never goes out of the backyard, that dog is not going to do well when it finally does get out of the backyard, it doesn't matter if it's a Pitbull or a Labradoodle (Although, what self respecting gangster owns a Labradoodle?). Now, hopefully I don't get myself in trouble here, but what type of people usually own Pitbulls? Probably the better portion of people that own Pitbulls are people that shouldn't have any kind of dog. They lack the time, money and/or education to know how to raise a well socialized dog. That being said, some of the most well behaved Pits I have seen were owned by people that didn't appear to have a lot materially in life. But, they appeared to have the intelligence to handle socializing their dog. On the other hand, I have seen wealthy people with a Labradoodle that barely had control of their dog. I chalk that up to a lack of time and possibly a lack of intelligence. Many times, when Pitbulls do attack, they seem to go after kids. I know my dogs don't love kids, but mostly because they aren't around them much. They aren't mean to the kids, they usually just run off and hide with their tale tucked deeply between their legs. Now, you get a Pitbull that is never around kids, and that is a recipe for disaster. They see that little "thing" as a threat. So, it's up to the OWNER to socialize their dog so it will play nice with others.

3) Training

Our last factor we will consider is training. In many ways, a lack of training comes down to many of the same reasons a dog lacks socialization. But there are a few things that makes it a category in and of itself. Training is important in all dogs, but especially with dogs like Pitbulls. Pitbulls, by nature, are determined animals. That's why they use them for dog fights. The Pitbull will fight to the death if an owner tells it to do so. In the dogs mind, he is defending his owner. Therefore, Pitbulls need training so they know what they should be doing with all that determination. As we see from my example, that can be used for the bad, like in dog fighting. But, with the proper training a Pitbull can be the best family pet anyone could have.

So what am I trying to say? I am trying to say that the bad wrap the Pitbull gets is because of the morons that own them. For some reason, the same people that feel it's okay to squeeze out 6 different babies from 9 different daddies, think it's cool to own a Pitbull. A good rule of thumb is, if you are totally inept at raising children, you probably should stay away from a strong willed dog like a Pitbull.

I have always felt there are two things people should have to pass a test for before they can do it. Those two things are, 1) Have children and 2) Own a dog. Maybe if this was done Pitbulls wouldn't have to be vilified by the media, and made to wear a muzzle 24/7. Most of those dogs are probably more deserving of respect than some of their owners. Maybe we should put the muzzles on the owners since they are ones that are really at fault for most of the Pitbull's woes.

I Need it Done Yesterday!

As we all know, times are tough. At least that is what they keep telling us. Because of this fact, anyone who is in business for themselves is constantly holding their breath that everything doesn't fall apart. For me and my business, we have some decent accounts that keeps the money rolling just good enough to keep our nose above water. (At least I think this think brown liquid I am standing in is water...) Really, I had been "lucky" during this recession. That is until recently. The phone stopped ringing, and some of my long time accounts started looking for ways to save money. It's almost as if the recession finally made it's way to the Midwest.

But, in my business of cleaning floors, the rough winter could be a blessing in disguise. Though it was horrible while it was happening, I think it has left many a floor in desperate need of attention. With the nicer weather that has began to surface, people are starting to think it's safe to have some work done on their floors. The problem is, they always call up on a Wednesday and say they are having some head honcho come in to inspect their store and "we need to have our floors done over the weekend". Now, I will be the first one to tell you that I am a disorganized mess in many areas of my life, including parts of my business. But one thing I am organized about is calling service providers. I always give them plenty of warning. Most likely I am this way because I hate getting that late week phone call. Another reason I am probably this way is because I know that when someone calls me up at the last minute to have some work done, I have what I like to refer to as a "rush fee". The nice thing about these last minute phone calls is that they are going to be desperate, and they may not get anyone that is interested in doing the job for them on such short notice. Cha-CHING!

The worst feeling though, is when you give them a price and they don't even blink an eye and immediately say, "Okay, what time can you get started?", which means I could have gotten more moola. At that point, "Bloody hell!!!", is the expression that usually enters my head. This happened to me a few weeks ago. Only this lady called on a Thursday and needed the work completed by Friday night. So, I shot her a price that I thought was a little on the high side, and even before I had the number completely out of my mouth she said, "It's yours!". Now, what makes this worse is the next day when I am cleaning her floor, she says, "Oh, by the way the week of the 22nd I have another store I need you to do. It's the same size, can you just do it for the same price?". "Bloody hell!!!"

Oh well, it could be worse. I could be a real estate agent in California. That might call for an upgrade to the expression in my head.

Facebook Junkie

I have a confession to make. I am a bit of a Facebook junkie. I am addicted to seeing what friends, past and present, old and new, are up to. What was really strange was going and looking at people I went to school with nearly 20 years ago and have not talked to many of them since. Whenever you close your eyes and go back to that nightmare that was high school, you always envision your old classmates the way they were; young and thin, with the girls having big hair and the guys sportin' a mullet, or perhaps a perm. The popular people that you were afraid to even talk to. (Speaking as someone that was not popular. Well liked, yes, popular, no.) The jocks that were too cool for anyone but the cheerleaders. The cheerleaders that some how had the power to turn me into a complete blithering idiot. Then there were the people that I was cooler than. (How I did feel sorry for those 5 people.) The girls and guys that got no attention from the opposite sex, either because they were a nerd or a little chubby, if you will.

Flash forward to the modern age of Facebook. Looking through the people that I went to school with, there are some that haven't changed very much at all. But then you have others that have changed A LOT! Some for the good, and some for the bad. There are some people that I am really happy for because they were some of the nicest people, but ignored because of their outward appearance, but now, they are the complete package and look better than ever. Then there are others that were jerks because of how wonderful they were. But now they are 50 lbs over weight and balding.

It's also fun to look at people's kids. Even though it's been 19 years, it seems like most of the old classmates didn't get started with the kids up until the last 12 years of so. But you look at those kids and can see the resemblance they have to their parents during their glory years.

Really though, what I enjoy about Facebook the most is keeping in touch with many of the friends I had some of the best times of my life with. Most of these people were in my life between 1992-1996. I have had some great times since being married, and I wouldn't trade my wife for the chance to be single again. (She truly is THAT great.) But MAN did I have some fun between the ages of 19-23. Sadly, most of the people that I shared that fun with, I don't get to see hardly ever. And, when I do get to see them it's briefly. So, Facebook has been a nice way to be able to keep tabs on some old friends. You get to watch their kids grow up. You get to hear some of the interesting things that happen to them from day to day. You get to see when they drop a mirror on their arm and cut themselves down to the bone. (You know who you are.) So, it's interesting on many levels.

But then there is the dark side of Facebook. You know, things like Farmville and Farmtown, and people that feel it's necessary to post a comment every time they go to the bathroom. (Size, color, and consistency.) Plus, Bozos that post 61 pictures of them self. (Guilty as charged.)

Yes, like everything else, Facebook has it's good points and it's bad points. But, also like anything else you find on the internet, if you are careful, it's something that can be used for the good, to stay in touch with past and present friends. I think of it as email with pictures. So, do your best to use it for the good. Which includes not sending me any that has to do with Farmville or town. Don't make me unfriend you.

ALL ABOARD THE YO-YO-DIET EXPRESS!

Well, here we go again. In a little over 8 weeks, if all goes well, I will be heading on a trip with my dive buddies. Of course, this means it's time for a weight loss program. I have a bad feeling about this. Usually, I am pretty stoked for trying to lose weight especially when there is a date that the goal needs to be met. I am kind of a deadline person. You could give me 6 months to do a two week task, and I would wait until I had 13 days, 23 hours, 55 minutes and 34 seconds before I got started. I don't like to think of it as being a procrastinator, I prefer to the term deadline motivated. I sometimes think I thrive on the stress. But I digress. Getting back to my point, I am not very excited about this next ride on the Yo-Yo-Diet-Express. The last few times I have really put a great deal of effort into my weight loss, I ended up losing just a few pounds. Which, this is better than nothing, but for all that sacrificing of food I enjoy and the Sweating to the Oldies I end up doing, I sure as heck better get some results.

To get things started, I am going to swear off alcohol, but especially beer. Yep, you heard me, beer. That golden nectur of the gods must stay on the shelf at the store instead of in it's home, AKA, my belly. (Except on Tuesday's or Saturday's. Yes, these days shall be Miller time! And they will be good.) Also, I will be resisting the temptation that is Runza and anything else that is battered, fried and then dipped in some sort of sauce and/or dressing. Instead, I think I will be subsisting on soup. I have discovered a vegan deli/coffee shop that may just have some of the best soups I have ever tasted. Now remember, I live in Stinkin' Lincoln, therefore, unlike my friends in Omaha, I don't have a great selection of places like this. But, should you ever be in this god forsa...I mean Lincoln, try a bowl of soup at The Cup. (You can find it on Yelp.com.) I think this is a good way to start.

After this month is over, I will then start to incorporate a thing called ex-er-cise into the program. I hear it can do wonders to help you lose weight. Although, it is probably just one of those gimics like taking your blood pressure, washing your hands or buckling your seatbelt. There's always someone out there buying what your selling. Crazy fools. Nonetheless, I will be giving exercise a go. So, if you see me, give some encouragement. If you see me eating at Runza, take the Runza out of my hands, throw it on the floor, begin jumping up and down on the "food" and yell, "You ain't gonna lose weight like this, fatty!". At which time you will no doubt be lead out by Runza management and asked to never return. But I will be eternally greatful.

I'm Back, Baby!

It's been 5 long, cold, snowy, months since my last blog. You may be wondering why. (Then again, you might not.) Because, I don't like offending people. But, as those that know me will tell you, it's in my make-up. I cannot help it from time to time. Therefore, I felt it was best to set aside the blog indefinitely. But now I feel it's time to get back on the horse that bucked me off and dig my heels in for the long haul. The fact of the matter is, I enjoy writing. It's what all those stupid placement tests when I was in school told me I should be doing. Who would have ever thought those things worked? Plus, I was given some kudos tonight from a...well, for lack of a better word, fan. What this person said to me reminded me how much I like doing it. Plus, if there are actually people out there that are reading this thing, then maybe I should give it another go. So, without further ado, I give you, Stinkin' Lincoln, the Rapture.

Stinkin' Lincoln Driving

I have had 5 months of experiences and tales about the wonderful driving experience that is Stinkin' Lincoln Driving. Not only did I have those 5 months, it also snowed like we were entering an ice-age. Therefore, I got some stories for you.

The one that really stands out actually only happened a week ago. My wife and I were driving down 84th Street on the south side of town. If you are unfamiliar with this street, it's probably one of the top 10 busiest streets in this god-forsaken town. So, we are driving and up ahead, I see a pedestrian with their dog standing on the median. Of course here in Stinkin' Lincoln, this means that some bonehead is going be "nice". This person in a Mercedes Benz stops in the middle of 84th street to give this person and their dog a chance to cross the street. On top of that, this person stops just on the other side of perhaps the only hill in Stinkin' Lincoln. I am sure you see where this is going. Oh, and the speed limit is a mind blowing 45 mph on 84th street. So, this means someone pops over the top of that hill at probably 40 mph. (It must be an unwritten law somewhere there that states, "everyone must drive at least 5 mph under all posted speed limits".) At this point the old tuna boat of a car, which looked like it was built sometime in the mid 80's, slams on their breaks and for a moment my wife and I thought we were going to get to see Mercedes' safety features demonstrated first hand. However, the person in the giant lead sled did some nifty driving and averted disaster. Somehow, this person slams on their breaks, jerks the car over into the turning lane to and does a complete 360 around the Benzo. How the hoopty didn't hit either the back or front of that Benz is beyond me.

Now imagine the dog and it's owner watching all of this unfold 20 feet in front of them. The lead sled stopped maybe less than 10 feet from the dog and it's owner. The owner stood there shocked at what was happening in front of her. The dog on the other hand was trying to figure out how to get the hell out of there. (Dog's aren't stupid.) Fortunately, everything turned out fine, with nothing hurt but couple people's pride.

There are many things we can learn from this story.

1) If you stop to let someone cross a very busy street, especially just on the other side of a hill, you are an idiot. Don't do that!

2) The one thing I did not mention in the story, but is key to us learning something. There was a tunnel that went under the street right there for pedestrians. I can only guess that since it was night time, this person didn't want to take the tunnel. Who can blame them with the high crime rates in South Lincoln. Oh...wait, there isn't a high crime rate there.

3) The cash for clunkers program was a good one that many people that should have taken advantage of it, didn't. Perhaps had the driver cashed in on the program, maybe they wouldn't have lost control.

This ends yet another addition of Stinking Lincoln Driving. It's probably not my best effort, but I am tired, and out of practice, I will do better next time...I promise.

By the way, it's nice to be back.