Opprobrious

Ball Licking-Man Research Opportunity

2012-01-24T11:32:00.002-06:00

Was hard at work today when it I saw that FINALLY the smart people at Harvard (They gave us G.W. Bush, right?) were offering to hand me sacks full of money to contiue my research.

But hey, this might not work out so be sure to hit up the T-Shirt store on the side of the page. With your help we will find the missing link in the fossil record and I am pretty sure it will be the Ball Licking-Man

Science/Technology

Foundational Questions in Evolutionary Biology Initiative at Harvard University Invites Letters of Interest for Research Project Funding
Grants of $200,000 per year for up to two years are available for research projects designed to substantially advance fundamental questions in the context of evolutionary biology....

Posted on January 15, 2012
Deadline: January 31, 2012 (Letters of Interest)
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Two Weeks

2011-07-02T19:07:00.004-05:00

It's been two weeks since my mother died. It is a miracle she survived for the past five years and every day was a blessing. See, Mom was a diabetic and she got gangrene and needed an amputation. But she also had a rash and "did not meet the criteria for surgery." So three Tulsa hospitals sent her home to die.

We didn't give up. I called a friend of mine who is a doctor in Oklahoma City and he had a team meet her in the ER at OU's Medical Center. They did not look for reasons to turn her away, but for ways to save her life. They succeeded.

I can fill the rest of this post with bitter and bittersweet stories of how universal insurance does not mean health care. I could share her painful last days. But instead, maybe I should tell you why she mattered.

Mom was a drunk. Nope, I am not exaggerating nor holding back. She was a drunk and she married a drunk and she hung out with a bunch of drunks. All of this creates a legacy I struggle to maintain and build upon.

My mother came to the realization she had a drinking problem while I was in high school. I always I suspect I had a bit to do with that realization when I verbally struck out one morning when I had myself been partying with friends all night. I never knew for sure, but it seemed as if shortly after that she entered Alcoholics Anonymous. Mom got sober and stayed. Like a lot of reformed drinkers, Mom got the religion to save others and she dedicated the reminder of her life to help others break addictions.

She was always dragging people home, and waking up to find her TV stolen and checking account wiped out. Mom found out not everybody who joins AA really wants to keep from drinking or using drugs! Her brothers like to say she had to kiss a lot of toads to find a prince. She did finally find that prince and he stayed by her side to the end, offering all the things she had wanted and missed out of in life. Together she and her reformed drunk husband joined with a few others and bought an old church and fixed it up for AA and NA meetings. Ending the need to track down meetings at various churches, city buildings or basements. That building allowed people to go to meetings in the small community twice a day seven days a week if they wanted.

Off of the power of that volume recovery sessions the local District Judge wrote for and got a grant to start up a drug court that has saved the lives of thousands of people. This program worked so well he wrote for a grant for a family drug court to help even more people. That worked so well he added a mental health court and wants to add a juvenile drug court! This judge and the Director of the mental health clinic claim none of those program would be able to succeed without that church that hosts all of those meetings every day. And that place was started by my Mom.

Several years ago she came to a community meeting I had started for service agencies in the area, and asked if we could help. The building was run as a corporation with a board of directors that make decisions on the use and maintenance of the building. All of the old guard that had bought the building and maintained the property were dying off. They were in danger of closing the doors. Several of the directors of those agencies and myself started attending meetings. I am the only one of the service agency people still attending and have been appointed to a board position that does not require a vote.

Since that time even my mother quit the program she started, due to health problems and the high level of tobacco smoke in the meeting rooms. She saw how stressed I grew working with the group and she urged me to leave several times, but like her, I saw the bigger picture, and somehow, without ever attending an AA meeting, I had caught her need to help save others. A legacy from her to me. Nothing tangible, nothing I can sell or trade or even take a picture of for others to marvel over. But a legacy that is bigger than ourselves.

One week ago there was a memorial service held at that old church. The room filled out with generations of people who testified that their life was changed for the better because my mother either helped them stop drinking and using drugs, or helped their children stop drinking and/or using drugs, or even a few who said they would not be alive today if it weren't for that old church that now hosts two meetings a day, seven days a week.

It has been two weeks and just typing this post my throat is constricted to the point I can barely breathe and once again I find tears leaking down my face. I will miss my mother. But her loss is greater to the world than it is just to me. In the final weeks of her life she was back in the hospital again. Her body was bloated from retained fluids that diminished her heart capacity to 10%. We learned later that was terminal condition. I went to visit her after work, as I tried to do every night I was in town. She had a smile and seemed more at ease. She told me a nurse had come in to check on her and noticed the AA charm on her bracelet and admitted she had a drinking problem but had stopped going to meetings because of her work schedule.

Had it been me, I think I would have asked for a new nurse and not the admitted drunk in the failed recovery program. But Mom pushed her laptop computer aside, sucked in a deep breath of oxygen so she could talk and asked the nurse when her break was scheduled. See, anytime two or more alcoholics get together they can have a meeting. That is how lives are saved, one at a time by somebody who is also recovering, still addicted and fighting the urge to relapse.

Thirty years since she stopped drinking and Mom was literally reaching out on her death bed to help HER caregiver find sobriety. That was my Mother. She died two weeks ago on Father's Day.

I have mAnswers

2010-08-29T09:41:00.007-05:00

OK all you hot chicks that are always pissed off about stupid people ruining your life. It turns out there is a way to solve the problem and you are sitting on the solution right now baby! Oh yeah.

There was a study released back in 2007 where Scientists had noticed that brains seem to have retarded growth in bad stress situations. So they naturally started wondering what would happen if they exposed brains to the opposite stimulus, and created stressful situations that caused pleasure. The result was they compared mice they isolated to mice they pimped out for sex.

I am SOOOO happy to report that study findings show that sex makes your brain grow! Oh yeah baby! So if you are bothered by the bovine plodding of the pimply faced store clerks or the smelly old man who holds up the check out line while he searches for his double value coupons, you KNOW what you gotta do cowgirl!

The study also had another interesting find. Mice that had been exposed to sex not only had bigger brains than the virginal mice, they showed less anxiety. This was shown by the fact that sexed up mice would quickly go to new food when introduced wheres virginal mice were more timid and anxious. It has been suggested that the sexed up mice were more ravenous due to increased activity, but I suspect the male mice reasoned it out. I mean after hours of sexual activity they probably felt there was nothing left that they could put in their mouth that would hurt them now. Then again, I am not a scientist. Just a man with a computer and a thirst to share.

Empty Nest

2010-08-15T08:52:00.006-05:00

It's an odd feeling. After 19 years of obsessing and hovering, nurturing, protecting and providing for the first born... she is suddenly gone. Not dead or anything tragic, in fact it is wonderful that she gets to do what she has prepared for all these years and start her college life. She secured funds and created a plan that will provide her a good professional education at a good school.

Yes the house is quiet and haunted by memories of a lifetime of her growing up. Daddy's little girl took her last trip in a little three hour drive to a new and exciting life that holds all the promise of a future that we parents have always targeted. But I look in her room and see the long line of nights at work or play, with friends and alone. The long, deep philosophical discussions of right and wrong, good and evil. All ghostly and faded memories of a little girl that no longer exists.

Every time I see her from now on she will be a newer, more grown up, more educated, more responsible adult. Carving out her independence as young adults should. As all parents hope their children will.

With a flash of painful realization I see that my parental drive to raise a capable, independent and self sufficient adult daughter means the most tragic pain of loss for a parent. Because by design of nature she is clawing and scraping to gain independence FROM ME! Just as I clawed and fought to be free of my dependence of my parents so many years ago. Every achievement now will not be a shared victory but another wedge driven solidly between us, separating the little girl that clung to my neck and smothered me in sweet kisses. At one point her mother and I made up her whole world. Now we are like the old playthings of her youth, left behind to collect dust in the back of the closet back home. Sure, she will always look back with love and fondness, but for a short shining time in her history I was the greatest man in the world. I don't know when that changed but I knew for certain the time was over when I left her at college and she hugged her mother, kissed her boyfriend and waived goodbye to her father.

Hukuna Matata Bitches

The Heat is ON

2010-07-31T22:27:00.004-05:00

Mrs. Cris took the little furry dog for a haircut again. Usually the lil fella is so please he got pampered and trimmed and is so relieved he has lost all those pounds of fur and can see, hat he bounces all over the place in joy. Today he scooted to the front edge of the porch where he was hiding from the heat.

How hot was it? Well at one point I got in may can and noticed I couldn't touch anything! Not the steering wheel, not the center consol, not the dash. My on board temp reading was 114 degrees. The banks downtown said it was 107. In the peek heat I decided to walk a block over to a store. I was at the office doing some weekend work and thought the walk would do me good. The trip over was slightly downhill. The trip back was slightly uphill. I had no trouble going to the store but thought I might not make it back! It was HOT!

Hey did anybody else see the gay cell phone commercial? I mean I look up and see these guys that are so gay they make the Village People look understated. I am shocked at the marketing strategy. I was so shocked I keep asking why would they feature guy people?

Now we have a fairly non judgemental house. While I doubt if anybody is really successful, we try to not push prejudice onto our children... except towards lazy stupid people that refuse to work or think about financial responsibility. ...but I feel that is our job as parents, show them the real harms and dangers of life and hope they never see barriers like color, race, sex or orientation.

But these guys selling cell phones were like WAY gay! I mean gayer than Jack on Will and Grace gay! "So what's wrong with featuring gay people?" my son asks me.

"The message they are giving is it is a gay phone service," I explain. "That commercial is airing here in Oklahoma! Once that image sticks to the phone how many kids in your school would be cool if that was your cell phone service? Do you want to be the kid in school with the gay cell phone carrier?" The adds are bold and unapologetic about gay... to the point it's kind of "We're here, we're queer: Get used to it." That will not play well in the reddest state in Oklahoma. From a strict marketing view it is near corporate suicide to air that commercial in Oklahoma.

Good news... I bet there will be a few job opening as a result of that commercial. Bad news... you know the jobs wont be in Oklahoma.

Boy Story

2010-07-30T23:07:00.003-05:00

So the boy comes bouncing into the room. This is a rarity as he usually only ventures out of his room to feed or beg for money. This time he tells me he has good news. His friend's mom came home early and said he could have company for the night after all. It is a Friday night, the end of summer vacation is looming before us like living with a terminal cancer patient.

Unfortunately for the boy I came home tonight and decided to dive into my favorite summer past time... my fruity gay drink. While I value my son's waning youth, in what he calls the final summer of his childhood: Next year he will be 16 and a licensed driver who has to work to pay for his underage 25 male insurance premiums as well as cash for gas and probably hookers. Thus he knows, his idle days of video gaming and sleeping til noon will have soon past him by, "Nope!" I stammer over my faded Eskimo Joe commemorative plastic cup of rum and Wal-Mart brand Koolaide. "That taxi ship has sailed. I am not getting out again tonight."

"But I wanna go to Jacobs!!"

"See if your sister will take you," was the first buck I tried to pass off. Then a thought occurred to me as I pictured my 18 year old daughter snuggled up in the other room watching movies with her boyfriend. "In fact, if you go in the other room and jump on the snuggle buddies and wiggle down between them... I'll give you a dollar!"

He looks at me with that sneer of adolescent morality and nicely asks his sister for help. "DO I OWE YOU A DOLLAR YET?!!" I yell out because I don't hear the screams of protest.

"No!" He shouts in reply. "I am not going to do that!"

My wife stirs next to me. She has fallen asleep while we watched Eureka. I don't know how she could, because I love that show! I tell her the boy needs a ride to his friend's house but I thought it best if I don't drive. Then I asked if she would be willing to take him. "Sure," she agrees in a tired mumble, "if I can just wake up."

Soon the boy wanders back into the den and slumps into the recliner. Defeated and dejected vibes radiate his sorrow into the room. "What did your sister say about taking you?"

"She said she would only do it if I gave her gas money," he said glumly. I knew he was penniless because he spent all of his summer money repairing his computer after he fried the motherboard last week.

"Well hey, I told you how you could make some money!" I encouraged.

"No I am not going to jump on them and wiggle in between them."

I wait. The silence builds. He begins to suspect his sorrowful broadcast is analog in a digital household when I happily tell him, "Hey Colin...? Mom says SHE will take you to your friend's house if you can wake her up first." Then I smiled as big and innocently at him as possible.

His eyes widened in surprise only to narrow in suspicion. "Wait... You're messing with me! You just want me to try to wake her up so she will be mad at me!"

"Colin!" I gasp in mock shock. "Why would I do that?! What could I possibly gain from that?!!" I always ask him this question when I am messing with him.

"You think it is funny when I get in trouble because you are mean!"

We sit in silence. He in shrouded in clouds of suspicion and me in what could only be called a shit eating grin. Finally I break the silence. "Hey Colin...? You know she really did say she would take you to your friend's house if you wake her up first."

"I don't believe you!"

"Colin...? Hey Colin...? You know what you need to do here?" OK so now I am laughing, I can't help it. This does not help sell my story and I really was being nice but he thinks I'm being mean... and I REALLY hate to disappoint my children. "What you need to do is decide what you want most. Do you want to go to your friend's house... OR do you want to believe I am playing a mean prank on you? Hmmmm Which is it Colin?"

He squirms and twists and you can see the battle play out across his face as he desperately needs to be with his friends. "Really? You would rather believe I am mean than try to go stay with your friend? REALLY?"

Just as he was about to break, my wife wakes up and ruins the game. She took him. He was happy. And best of all.... next time... when I really AM messing with him... He will never see it coming! BAHAHAHA

Protective Dad

2010-07-24T12:29:00.005-05:00

We drove across the state as the sun went down. I drove the whole way in spite of the plan to allow my daughter to drive, so she would get used to finding her way through Oklahoma City. OKC is one of the largest cities in the nation in land mass and has some pretty dangerous driving where I-40 meets I-35. But it was about dark and there was no reason to take chances with my little girl at this stage of the game. Therefore I drove.

The next morning the college made the parents go to a different orientation session than the children, even though I felt I should be there when she enrolled in her classes. I do have a Master's Degree in Education and have spent more than a few hours deciding the best courses a person should take, but for some reason the college wouldn't allow that. I can only assume I will have to make corrections later.

The presentation is predictable and boring. I take care of business on my Blackberry that ranges from checking on the site-visit back at the office to dealing with the local bank. Then the Dean of Students took the stage.

I don't remember her name, she referred to herself as "Dean." She showed interest in the students on the stage and even the equipment they used in the presentation. Then she turned to face the assembled parents and with a look of concern asked how many were there with their first child?

Suddenly overcome with a wave of emotion at the "loss" of my baby girl that I have cherished and helicoptered around for the past two decades, I raised my hand with eyes brimming with tears. Be a freakin man, you big wuss! I silently screamed to myself as I struggled to NOT wipe away the drops welling around my lower eyelids. I glanced around nervously and saw there were a few other parents (yes, mostly the moms) who were openly weeping.

The Dean nodded her head as she surveyed the room, like she had seen this several times in her career. "Now," she said. "How many of you are here with your last child...?"

The room erupted into cheers and whoops of joy. An aged and broken looking couple even got up and began a little dance of joy. "Well you people need to stop trying to push those poor kids out of the house already! Sheesh! They know you intend to turn their rooms into the guest room or game room or whatever you plan... they know because some of you already have them sleeping in the laundry room! Quit it! They will be gone soon enough but they are NOT feeling the love at home, so scale back for a little bit longer."

Then she focused on first group of parents who went from tears of loss to amazement and shock at the other parents. "And you first timers take note... you need to let go. Your child will be fine. We have a long history of taking your life's work and turning them into the adults you always hoped they would become. Trust them and trust us... and back off!"

So now, a few days later I am reliving the words in my head and I can see maybe I was holding on a little too tight. I let her drive home.... well up to Oklahoma City and and then after we got through Oklahoma City. I griped and yelled and cussed at her so she would pay attention and stop texting and watch the road and the traffic. "This is important!" I told her as I dodged a semi moving into our lane without warning. "You will be making this trip all by yourself in two weeks when school starts. You are an adult now and you will have to do this on your own from now on."

Is it wrong that I only made sure she learned how to drive through Oklahoma City on the way back home? Maybe she will use that knowledge before Thanksgiving... you think?

Love

2010-07-21T17:39:00.003-05:00

I have been thinking about love lately. I have often said I never fully understood the word until I was about 30 year old. At that time my cousin Jason had been in a car wreck where he sustained a brain stem injury. In that torturous week that followed we gathered in the hospital and watched the blood supply slowly stop flowing to his brain, and I came to understand the word.

I know this sounds like an odd time to find love but that is exactly what happened as I stood by a boy I loved from the day he was born. I held his hand as machines breathed for him and prayed not for his recovery, not for a miracle, but for whatever was best for him. Like a light had been turned on in my head, I realized that true love is unconditional and freely given. I know I am capable of unconditional love and I both feel it for others and I know others feel it for me.

BUT the other day I am watching a TNT showing of "When Harry Met Sally" and Billy Crystal is saying how men and women can never be friends because the sex thing always gets in the way. And THIS raises the question that should never be asked: Can married people actually UNCONDITIONALLY love each other?

I mean, really?

Without conditions?

I. Don't. Think. So.

Lets say you get married and life is great then not so good then you get a divorce because you find you can not longer live with THAT person. We will have to punt on the reasons for the divorce as there can be many ..and really, shouldn't there be many reasons to end a marriage in the first place? Sure you felt love for them. You made love to them. You declared your love at them... but when they walk away with half your stuff and control who sees the children and when and how... you might not even be fond of them after that! So did you ever really love them? I mean really? Because if you did you would have loved them regardless of how they acted before the divorce, right? Your love for them would have been unconditional, right?

You can have an addictive child and you can toss them out, call the cops on them, refuse to see them but you will always love them and you only use tough love on them BECAUSE you love them unconditionally. A spouse is different. It is meet my needs or hit the bricks so I can find the missing person that WILL meet my needs and I will love them... if that is possible... which I am beginning to think IS NOT.

There are rare cases where two people have undying love for each other. They stand by and defend and support the other until the bitter end and when one dies, the other can't seem to live alone with a part of their heart missing. But that is the exception and not the rule! Today most marriages end in divorce and the second marriage is less likely to last than the first. Not only that but we KNOW that divorced couples are not known for LOVING each other... excluding the guilt free hook ups I hear happen from time to time.. that ironically might have prevented the divorce had they happened prior to the big split... but I digress.

So here is the question that should not be asked: If men and women can feel love for each other and then fall out of love and even into dislike... was it ever really love? Trust me, if we are going to share our lives together I WILL HAVE CONDITIONS! I want the house maintained a certain way, I need a level of privacy and you KNOW I have expectations on sex. Therefore... am I incapable of unconditionally loving anybody as a spouse? Does this in turn make me unlovable?

Wind Storm

2010-07-18T12:07:00.005-05:00

It all started by my wife asking, "When can we move to a cooler climate? I am sick of this 100 degree weather for months on end!"

That led to me doing my yearly search for a more reasonable summer state to live in, which always has me yearning to be Canadian then looking at the west coast, then Maine. This year however, I added affordable states to live-in, and cross referenced them to cooler climates.

NOW THE FOLLOWING IS CONFIDENTIAL AND I AM TRUSTING YOU NOT TO BLAB THIS INFORMATION TO OTHERS AND CAUSE THE AREA TO OVER POPULATE BEFORE I GET IN ON THE GROUND FLOOR.... am I concerned about the general population seeing this protected information on a public blog...? UH... have you seen the number of hits I get a year? I think the secret is safe!

The most perfect place in the Universe, with upward mobility, nice climate, similar job opportunities for my degree and work experience and an overall Freakin Cool Place to live... Canton Ohio.

Yeah Canton! While it has cooler winters it has super mild summers. Oklahoma will stay around 100 degrees from July 1 to September 15 and then will hit 90-100 several times up until November or mid December. Canton exceeds 90 degrees maybe 7 times a freakin year dude! SEVEN! We might exceed 110 seven times a year! It has a booming economy compared to Oklahoma, it has a much higher level of educated people compared to Oklahoma, it has way lower poverty than Oklahoma and did I mention it only exceeds 90 degrees something like 7 times a freakin year?!! The final kicker... Canton has cheaper housing than Tulsa. Oh and every year the first NFL football game played will be the pre-season Hall of Fame game in Canton Ohio! Which means Joe Montana will probably be there every year.

So I am telling the family where our new dream home will be located and the boy (future leader of the world) asks me if that is near the Great Lakes. It is, by the way, but just far enough South that it doesn't have snow squalls.

"Yes it is son, can you tell me which lake it might be near?"

He struggles a bit and ventures, "Yukon?"

All of my attention is not suddenly focused on the boy who hopes to start driving this fall with a learner's permit, "uh... did you say Yukon?" I snicker a bit, "Can you name any of the other Great Lakes?"

I should point out that for most of his life I have had my study wall covered in a huge dry/erase map of the continental United States and I know the kids spent hours and hours studying it as they progressed through Elementary, Middle and now High School. "There is that big one... Superior..and Yukon.. eh..Ohio.... um..." his voice trailed off.

"Yes Superior, Yukon, Ohio, Erie.." I jumped in so I could help him out. "Any others? ...how about Ontario?"

"No," he shook his head. "I think it is named for some place in Canada."

Now, as a certified History and Geography teacher, I am getting wound up with pride in my progeny. "So do you know what people do up on the Great Lakes around Ohio, like on the Great Lake Ohio? They Ice Fish! Can you imagine, fishing for ice? But they do, they cut holes in the top of the lake and fish for ice cubes. Then they turn around and sell those to the Eskimos so they can make Igloos. That's where they came up with the saying, 'Can sell ice cubes to an Eskimo.'"

"No way!" the boy comes alive with suspicion. "Now I know you are full of crap! It's hard to tell with you but you went too far. I know what ice fishing is and they don't fish for ice they fish for fish."

"Son, son son..." I say sadly while shaking my head. "See once again you have jumped to conclusions due to your limited education and lack of experience. I, on the other hand am a man of the world that has been all over and watched a lot of TV. In fact, as far as you know I might have been ice fishing on the Great Lake Ohio and turned in my day's catch for cash from the Eskimos."

"You did not!" He semi-laughs and screams in protest. "You don't even like to fish!"

"I don't like to fish for fish because I don't enjoy killing or hurting animals." I countered. "But this was different. Up there we just fished for ice cubes which we could sell. Actually I didn't sell mine. The place I fished for ships them off to a nearby prison where the prisoners turn the big ice cubes into little ice cubes and sells it as crushed ice to restaurants all around the country."

"That's not true! It is so obvious you are so full of crap your ears are turning brown." Then he leans in and says in a stage whisper, "I'm not gullible like Mom."

"Son at 15 you think you know everything in the world and that's the attitude that will hold you back from success in the real world. Have you ever been ice fishing?" I asked

He looked guarded, "No."

"Have you ever met anybody beside me that has gone ice fishing?"

"Not that I know of..."

"Then at this point you have to admit I am the area expert on the matter. Where the heck do you think crushed ice comes from anyway? It certainly doesn't grow on trees and it is way too hot around here to make the amount of ice that is used in restaurants. Nope it comes from colder climates and they use prison labor to crush the ice. They used to also let the prisoners make shaved ice but they had to quit because the inmates were making shanks and shivs out of the ice razors."

My son retreated to the only defense he had left, "I am not listening to you anymore! I know you are full of crap and I am not listening."

"Yep they made the prisons stop allowing the inmates to make shaved ice and now only the juvenile prisoners can make it down in juvy hall. You know that's where the expression 'Little Shavers' comes from. You have heard of that expression haven't you?"

"I hate you." he mumbles from between teeth clinched to keep from grinning.

Presby Proud

2010-07-14T22:43:00.004-05:00

Presbyterian leaders voted to allow gay clergy, but not gay marriage, during the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) General Assembly last week. But PBS's Religion & Ethics Newsweekly reports that the measure now goes to the presbyteries, or local jurisdictions, which have previously rejected resolutions to ordain gays and lesbians.

Read more: http://blog.beliefnet.com/beliefbeat/2010/07/presbyterian-assembly-approves-gay-clergy-not-gay-marriage.html#ixzz0tiebF0cY

You know my good friend Flip once sat me down and tried with a good deal of patience tried to explain to me that being gay is not a matter of sexual choice but orientation. Naturally my strong right wing conservative back ground rebelled against what he was suggesting... that people are born attracted to same sex and it is not a choice. That no sane or reasonable person would ever choose to be gay in Texas. He has been both.

I don't have gay children. I am not gay. I do not have gay family members that I am aware of but even at an early age I could not get on board with making gay people to be villains. The older I get the more I see the way we, as a society, treat gay people is like the way blacks, and women have been treated in the past. The older I get I am opposed to Don't ask, Don't tell, ban on marriage, and any number of ways we thumb our noses at people because they are different. My old philosophy used to be, "How can it be wrong if there is love involved?" but that is evolved to a simple discrimination is wrong. I am happy to be Presbyterian and have made this big step, now lets regroup and marry some of these people off.

Geez I hope I don't have to give up making gay jokes over this.

Boomers Did It

2010-07-13T09:45:00.004-05:00

So there was this interesting article I just read on how businesses were dreading 2012. "Sure" I thought, "so do the Mayans and anybody with HBO because we know that will be a movie shown 200 times in the next six months."

Surprisingly, the article didn't deal with either of those past/future tragedies. The article instead focused on the massive amount of people that are now employed and facing retirement. Baby Boomers are the generation that was born when Papa came home from War back in 1945. When the Country got so involved in the follow up to the war to end all wars that it swept the nation clean of able bodied men to the point traditional housewives were recruited to work on assembly lines. Rosey the Riveter was a character created to describe the type of woman worker needed to help keep the war machine rolling. The level of feminine empowerment lasted until the end of the follow up to the war to end all wars and Rosey was sent packing so real PTSD enabled war veterans could return to MAN the assembly line.

What happened to all those empowered working women, you ask? They were sent packing to be retrained to care for the returning hero by making the perfect home. These talented superwomen did such a fine job of creating a warm and welcoming island of domestic bliss that our returning veterans did what they do best, they knocked up the gal back home. The problem here was there were millions of returning veterans getting welcomed by million of superwomen and nine months later the big welcome home party began producing results! Millions and millions of them! But hey Rosey wasn't riveting just because she looked hot in overalls, nope she was a can do gal with a wanna do it attitude to the point that these post war families now had 2.5 children born between the years 1946 and 1964. And those little tykes in the class of '46 will be eligible for full retirement in 2012. We are talking MILLIONS of them hitting the over strained social security system at the same time followed by wave after wave of aged out baby boomers.

Sure we have all heard about how this will wreak havoc in the Social Security system but now area businesses are thinking about what it will mean to the bottom line of production. See, while these post war tykes grew up and became hippies and smoked pot, burned bras and draft cards while putting flowers in their hair in San Francisco, they also advanced through the ranks to management and became the man they once so vehemently protested against. And the man is about to step down. Only it isn't just A man, it is millions and millions of men and women that have clawed their way to the top of lower and middle management.

See the big concern isn't the top 5% of the wage earners... nooooo... what we are concern about here is the Alpha personality that devotes his/her life to a job to make the trains run on time. They get the produce to the stores and the mail sorted and the bank accounts balanced. We are talking the top mean ass grunts that run our businesses by keeping their thumbs down on the irresponsible twerps that followed the class of '64. The people our society depends upon to thrive and feed us and support us and provide us the lifestyle we have grown accustomed to over the past 50 years. Those guys are about to age out and who... WHO do we have to replace them?

Sure we could deal with the loss of one or two or nationwide maybe even a hundred or possibly a thousand... but we are talking millions of them. Possibly ALL of them and it all starts in 2012. So maybe the ancient Mayans aint so dumb and superstitious after all huh? Maybe... just maybe they were watching a baby boom in the stars and saw the tragedy that would follow teaching a nation of women a solid work ethic and then sending them home to please a man. We are all doomed. DOOMED!!

Lack of Virtue

2010-07-12T02:08:00.003-05:00

I am not a craftsman. I have some skills but I lack the basic, most fundamental trait or virtue necessary to be a true craftsman. I lack patience. In fact, a co-worker, a former police administrator, often calls me “too timid” (pussy) because I refuse to drive across multiple lanes of traffic on left handed turns. The simple truth is not that I lack nerve… no… I have good insurance and a cheap car, so I am pretty sure that means I have the right of way. The fact is I lack the patience to wait and wait and wait when I can simply drive around the block and ease into traffic with a right turn.

So this week I took off work. My annual “I am too cheap to take the family on a trip so I will STAY home STAYCATION. I flipped channel s and played on the computer and got bored. SO I started a little project by taking some scrap wood and making a guitar hanger. Over the years I have made a few of these and everyone is slightly different as I improve upon the design of the past. This last one was a master piece. I created a fork to hold the neck of the guitar and I placed a simple shelf under the fork to reinforce it and prevent sagging from the weight of the instrument. I glued as screwed each piece together to give it added support and I believe you could have hung sides of beef on those hangers as well as a guitar. Then as an added bonus and because I was off work and hate to be bored, I upholstered, or covered the fork in black leather to give it added gripping power, prevent scuffing of the guitar neck and because I thought it would look cool.
I decided I would stain the back of the hanger pecan brown, mainly because I knew I had a small can of stain. So I spent two days making the hanger, mostly waiting on the glue to dry and applying the leather. Then I searched for a full day for the stain and never could find it. In the end I got impatient and used last of an old old gallon of pale green paint I had used in the bathroom years ago. I drilled a hole in the center of the backer board and went to the wall to hang the bad boy next to the piano.

Now I have all sorts of stud finders. I have a simple magnet that flips when you pass over a nail in a stud. I have a super electronic sensor that uses sound and telepathy and I think taps into my cell phone to call Ms Roberta the radio psychic. Of course I can never find one of these, and thus out of my lack of patience, I reverted to the old fashioned method. I tapped on the wall until I thought I heard a full solid sound and I tried driving the screw into the wall with an 18 volt Sears Craftsman cordless drill. Nothing. So I pulled out the screw and moved over an inch to the right and tried again. Nothing. So I pulled the screw out of the wall and a small chunk of wall came out with it, but hey I was going to have to repair the other missed hole anyway, right? I moved over another inch to the right and
tried again. Nothing.

At this point I should inform you that standard wall framing dictates that you place wall studs every 16 inches. I know for a fact the studs are 16 inches apart on this wall because I put up the dry wall myself a few years ago. So I moved over another inch to the right and tried another hole. Nothing. At this point I am growing really impatient and blaming everybody who has ever even driven down the road in front of our house for my inability to find the stud finder I never really bothered to look for because how freakin hard can it be to hit a Godamn stud in the fucking wall when you know the bastards are only 16 fucking inches apart? RIGHT?!!

Eh… did I mention when I get frustrated I tend to maybe swear a tad bit? Anyway, because I am trying to hang a guitar that will be on a wall and displayed in the living room, I am making all of these attempts by holding the hanger and the heavy 18 volt Sears Craftsman cordless drill over my head and by this time the hanger and the drill are getting really heavy. The screw is now firmly embedded into the backboard of the hanger and after the past several attempts of not getting a really square stab at the screw head, the powerful Sears Craftsman has stripped out the head. I move another inch over and another inch over and on the 14th GODDAMN attempt I hit the fucking stud only to bury the screw about half way in before completely stripping out the head. Now I can’t get the screw to go in and I can’t get it to back out. My arms ache and burn from effort, profanity is blistering the paint off the walls, my wife got out of bed to see what was happening because…

Did I mention it was about 12:30am and how hard is it to put a simple fucking screw in the damn wall right?!!... but when she walks out and sees a 15 inch gash in the living room wall next to her piano and me tearing out a huge hole in the sheetrock because the screw head is stripped, she quietly turns back around and goes back to bed without saying anything.

I have to say I am blessed with a wife who has more than enough patience for the both of us.

So there I am going absolutely bat shit crazy trying to rip this guitar hanger off the wall because it is NOW semi secured into the only stud that must exist in that damn wall when I hear the fork of the guitar hanger I worked on the for the past three days crack and break someplace under the upholstered leather cover that looks real cool.

Now it is two hours later I again show I am not without skill. The holes in the wall are patched and the first coat of mud is drying. Later, after my staycation is over, I will reseal all the wood trim and repaint the entire living room. I have been saying all year that It needed repainting anyway, so it is no big deal, right? I mean I have the skills and how patient do you need to be to paint anyway?

Female Viagra

2010-07-11T11:54:00.003-05:00

So usually I joke around in this blog but today I want to address something of a more serious nature. There are reportedly hundreds of thousands of women in this country, possibly millions world wide, who don't wanna put out. What is worse, they would like to wanna put out, but they just can't seem to get in the right frame of mind. They curl up in a shawl and settle into a matronly feeling of content while their girly parts slowly rust shut from lack of use. Remember, if you don't use a muscle it will wither away and die... that's why guys touch themselves all the time even if they "don't feel like it."

OK OK seriously here: When Mrs. Cris and I first got together my mother in law had a stroke. She spent the remainder of her life trapped in a body where she could think and feel and want but never express herself physically or verbally. She was trapped against her will and you could see the frustration she dealt with on a daily basis.

Somehow I see this "Not Puttin' Out" or "Frigidity" disease as the same kind of betrayal by the body. And while many of these women will tell you that they are fine and they do not miss sex or have an interest in sex they, fail to see the devastation wreaked by this lack of desire.

I could go into many theories of the causes of a lack of desire. It could range from anthropological to superficial attractiveness. Maybe it is the lack of reproduction ability that quells the innate dive and desire to have sex for procreation. Possibly it is the fact the human body is only designed to live about 40 years, so after 15-20 with the same person the average relationship is incapable of thriving. Perhaps it is because of today's rapidly changing world, people grow apart due to different interests, or perhaps super sized meals lead to super sized asses to the point women don't wanna see it or have it seen. The thing is there is no single answer for all cases and there may not be a single answer of any individual case. It is what it is.

When you look at the family dynamics you can't fail to see that children, who develop a view of the world by watching and modeling the behaviors of the adults, primarily parents, in their lives. When they see a disconnect in wanting the touch, the sexual energy and desire in the home it has to have a residual effect. Oddly it seems that while the frigid women don't want sex they still love the chick flicks that rely on sexual desire to drive the storyline. Yet this element is totally lacking in real life, so children grow up believing life long love and desire are merely parts of Hollywood fantasy.

You know this puts a strain on marriage and most will not survive the lack of sexual desire from one partner or the other. Back in the day when couples had to cite reasons for divorce, sexual abandonment was a legitimate cause for divorce. The tragedy is the relationships end while both parties still deeply love and care for each other. This is not even counting the life-times spent working towards common goals, and decades of shared assets. The dissolution of which most likely leads to the animosity and bitterness in divorce.

Now I mention this because I was reading an article today about how drug companies are working to develop a female version of Viagra, only the medicine would create desire rather than boners... well hopefully it would ultimately create both. And there are groups out there protesting the creation of a drug that could potentially save hundreds of thousands of families. This fear of tampering with a woman's body would have prevented the use of anti depressants, insulin, or birth control. Every day we see data that represents information that has been in front of us for centuries and never recognized. We know there are many women out there that want to function sexually but can't. It is not normal. It effects the quality of life of those women and has a residual effect on those closest to them in the family. These women do not want to lose their marriages or cause harm to children or families. They need help the same as a person with in infection needs antibiotics, a broken bone needs a cast and a teenager needs condoms and duct tape.

My New Summer Fruity Gay Drink

2010-07-09T23:58:00.005-05:00

So I think I found the perfect summertime drink for me. It is easy, tasty and will knock you on your butt. Did I mention it was cheap too?

Go to Wal-Mart (or where ever) and get box of those individual flavor packets for bottled water called Raspberry Ice. It is sugar free and there is like 12 drink mixes in it for $2. Then take thee to yon spirits store and purchase a bottle of Blackhart Rum. OK the type of rum might not matter but this bottle was $10.99 with a $10 rebate(...sure wish I hadn't lost that rebate ticket) AND it has a sexy one eyes pirate chick on the label!

So you mix the flavor packet with a glass of water and a shot glass full of rum and ice that bad boy down. No special bar tricks, no bottle twirling, no mad mixing skills. Trust me, you will like what you get even if it IS kind of an iced down fruity gay drink for the summer.

No carbs, no sugars, and no problems. YOU. ARE. WELCOME.

Suck THIS Pythagoras!

2010-07-08T23:21:00.004-05:00

So there we were, the home building crew of "The Boy" and myself, out in the yard and embarking on an all new project. Our projects have been many and varied over the years as we have progressed from the initial flower beds we made when he was grounded as a little boy, to the major building projects we have undertaken with our present house. And all in all, he hates each of them equally.

Oh don't get me wrong, he does not dislike working with his hands or creating something from nothing. He HATES working with his father. But to be fair, a lot of this pent up disdain is from years of his being too small to be any real help, so he would stand around most of the time waiting to hand me a hammer or a some other assorted tool. Come to think on it, I would probably hate it too, but learning starts somewhere and now that he is taller than me, stronger than me and ha a more capable knee than me... I am letting him do sooooo much more of the labor part of our little projects. ...and you know what? I think his enjoyment is growing!

Several months ago a buddy of mine needed some quick cash and offered to sell me a carport. He said he would take his carport down and move it to my house and set it up for a little less than the price if of a new carport. It was a good deal for both of us and I do need a car port, only I wanted to level off the ground where the carport would be located. I agreed to pay him but he would have to wait until I had time to get the ground ready, and I told him I was so busy it would probably be months.

This week I was full into my annual STAYCATION. You know, where you work all year and you get time off to do what you want, but I have so many things I don't have time to do during the year I can only do them when I am not working... like my time off. So today I slept late, got up the boy and told him I was going to give him a practical workshop in the application of the Pythagorean Theorem. And for those of you following along at home, that's a2 + b2 = c2.

We trudge out in the yard where the July sun beats upon us without mercy. It has rained every day this week and the boy ventures that maybe we should do this another day since it might start raining again. I berate him for his foolishness, this is Oklahoma in July. It might have a freak rain every once in a while but there is no way it will keep raining.

So it began pouring down on us. Rain quickly soaking our shirts, matting our hair... ok HIS hair and leeching into our eyes and mouths. "DON'T WORRY!" I screamed over the pounding deluge and rolling thunder, "THESE SUMMER CLOUD BURSTS ONLY LAST A FEW MINUTES!" Then I handed him a tape measure and a roll of thin rope. We measured off six feet along the house from the corner and marked the spot. Then we measured out 24 feet from the house where we wanted to create a retaining wall and marked the distance by tying one end of the rope to a screw driver and jamming it into the ground. We went back and measured eight feet from the corner on this rope. Then we simply went to the two marks and made a triangle with a length of rope that measured ten feet long. When the two marks touched, we had a perfectly squared line for our retaining wall.

See I was taught that if you use multiples of 3,4,and 5 you will always make this work. Since we were working with a bigger number I decided 3,4,and 5 feet would not work so I multiplied them by 2 for greater distance and accuracy and because I did not have enough rope if I multiplied them by 3, plus I get confused easily so multiplying times 2 seemed the best solution.

Only it was REAL obvious, once we laid out the heavy railroad ties along our string line that we were not square with the house. Not even close! OK I will admit that maybe I was not REAL exact with the measurements. I mean, I used what I thought was a fleck on the wall of the side of the house rather than actually draw a mark on my siding! And maybe I tied a knot in the rope around where the eight foot mark would be and I was within a couple of inches, and MAYBE I didn't drive a nail into the siding to hold the hypotenuse rope line so MAYBE I kind of tied it to the front tire of an old bicycle that was leaning against the house so there could have been a little wiggle room there... but mostly... I never could see how simply using multiples of 3,4, and 5 equaled a2+b2=c2... I mean shouldn't the hypotenuse side be 14 feet long and not 10?

Oh well, we ended up using a large framing square and eyeballing it into place. As we placed the final railroad tie into place we were soaked and covered in mud and creosote. We rushed to put up the tools in the barn and just as we put away the last tool and walked towards the house the rain stopped and the clouds parted and filled the land with sunshine.

The boy gave me a disgusted look over his shoulder and went back into the house to play his video games and watch TV. As for me... I showered and made an excuse to go back to the office where I worked until about 9:00pm. It's a good thing I only relax like this once a year, I don't think the boy could take much more than that.

Mystery of the Gages

2010-07-08T10:38:00.003-05:00

So I am a Fat Ass Diabetic. You know, the kind who was not born with the disease but "grew into it" by way of my fat ass. Yes I have eaten my way into bad health with vengeance, according to modern medical literature. Naturally I am not as supportive of that firmly held true-ism as say... a skinny freakin dude. But that is besides the point.

The point is I am trying to monitor my sugar intake. For the past decade I have been a minor diabetic. Evidently after 10 years you loose your armature status and have to at least enter the ranks of the semi pros if you wish to stay in the game. The game being LIFE. So about 6 months ago I had an alarmingly high blood sugar count of about 300 and I was on medication. Up until then I was always around 100 and I never even bothered to check except when in the doctor's office. Since that day I try to check every morning.

Herein lies the mystery. My blood sugar level doesn't make any freakin sense!! After doubling my medication a few different times and then adding a new medication I have dropped from a daily 200 level to about 130-140. Still too high but it beats the hell out of 200. I will be around 135 every day for about three days and then I will be like 64 or 70. This is falling a bit low so I might add something to my diet like whip cream to my coffee.

So this week I made cornbread. It is a no-no for diabetics because... ok I really don't know why. It is high in carbs and is considered the more evil of breads, as opposed to whole grains or NO bread. I was not surprised to see the next day I was a 179. But the morning I was a 179 Mrs. Cris made me breakfast.

Older readers may remember Mrs. Cris lacks a certain proficiency in the cooking skills. So this breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs and sausage. I know, I know... it is impossible to ruin this simple fare.... and yet she manages quite easily every time for the past 30 years of wedded bliss. We have two dogs that seem to think they live around here and they wont even eat this stuff! I slip it outside in the hopes of a little help and the worthless mutts act as if they prefer discount dry dog food to Mrs. Cris's home cooking... and you know... they MIGHT be on to something there! As a result I have stopped trying as all we end up with is a slowly decomposing bowl of unborn chicken and ground up pig in the back yard. Not even the ants will touch it!

OK I digress a bit. The point is after the exemplary first bite and courtesy "Yumm baby" that you have to perform to maintain a marriage for three decades, I HAD to find a way to maintain the contents of my stomach. I grabbed a cookie, then two and maybe three. Later that day, hours later the memory resurfaced and I had two more cookies, OREOS, and I am pretty sure I had the last of the corn bread. All in all I had a BAD CARB day with real sugar, several cookies and corn bread and today my sugar level is....

129

WTF DUDE?!! It should be WAYYYY higher today than it was yesterday at 179, but instead I am damn near healthy. My sugar level is bouncing around all over the charts and I can't figure out why. Maybe my gauge is defective. I have a second one. Maybe I should alternate them. I could check one and then check the other but those strips cost money and... well I AM me.

Or maybe... just maybe I am right and all those so called medical ex-spurts are wrong as I have always suspected. For years I ate a half a box of sugar coated donuts every morning and was as healthy as a horse. Now after 10 years of acting like a sickly diabetic I have turned into a freakin old man! Maybe the real message here is I need more OREOS in my diet!

Problem Fixers

2010-07-05T12:09:00.005-05:00

So yesterday was the Fourth of July. We had a good time with family at the lake. The boys went all pyrotechnic and kept running in the house with tales of encounters with bears, and fire, and near drowning heroics. It should have been amusing but they kept running the house screaming about man eating carnivores and near death experiences while we adults were trying to eat and visit. Naturally we yelled at them and told them to stay outside.

That is all pleasant and nice but the real purpose of this post is to do what I do best.. or most. BITCH! Yes I have a major bitch to share with you. Last winter my mother needed to get rid of cat. We have a mouse problem out in the country and I agreed to keep the cat as long as she could be an outside cat. I needed a predatory mouser.

Everybody was in agreement this cat would be perfect for the job. She had claws and loved to attack anything, and grew up fighting off neighborhood dogs. So we welcomed her to our happy yard where she began killing everything she found. Lizards, snakes, moles, horses, and mice. It worked out well and when all the local wild life was depleted she would skulk across the street and take out a few of the nearby farmer's pigs or cows. She was working out fantastic except whenever we opened the front door this stupid cat would run in and bolt to the inside cat food bowls.

This was a nuisance, but the real problem has been the hitchhikers. Yes there are always a hand full of fleas that ride along the outside cat's fur and jump ship onto the inside cat's fur. Over the course of a few weeks these fleas have bred and had a thousand babies each and now our house is overrun with fleas.

Today I have been doing research and have made the Man O' The House Decree: Either we are flea-less within one week from today or all cats must go! I have checked out the web and I think Wikipedia is the best guide on this. I will go invest the children's college savings funds in "Advantage" for the cats which will kill off 98% of all fleas within 12 hours and will stop eggs from hatching and the cats will become roving flea traps for the next few months.

Yes I will turn our cuddly little snuggle buddies into roving toxic instruments of death. They will roam through our house and dispense death with no more thought, compassion or consideration than BP Oil has for gulf fishermen. Only, unlike the oil companies and the US Government, WE WILL deal with our homeland disaster and we will do it quickly and efficiently with forethought, and research based, proven best practices. Not because it is the American Way, or the smart way but because Fleas piss me off and I want the fuckers out of my house ASAP!

And maybe that is key to fixing the oil spill. Scoop up all the oil we can and dump it on Washington and the homes of the BP executives. When you have to live in the disaster then suddenly you find the inspiration to fix the problems of your life. I know I am motivated!

A Positive Future Ahead

2010-07-03T22:57:00.005-05:00

OK OK OK so I tried to post a blog post everyday and then decided to take a little time off. Is a year really all that much time? I mean really? In that year I have tried to devote myself to learning my new job duties. A task I still feel I am not equipped to handle. The issues that popped up was there was not enough time in a normal 8-10 hour work day to get everything done and in spite of all efforts to beef up my internet abilities here at home... my service grew less and less. Yes I blame Bush. In the end I had to let something go, and to my great distress that something had to be you.

There are so many things I wanted... NEEDED to share with you since I know you are the only one who really understands me dear unnamed faceless reader who stopped checking this blog site six months ago. What things you ask?

Did I mention my daughter went ahead and graduated from High School?!! Despite all my protests she turned 18, graduated from school and will leave me in a six short weeks for the life of an adult. AN ADULT!! I am not ready for that! I am no where near grown up and mature enough to handle that kind of change! AND WORSE that would leave me home alone with the wife and the boy and no sanity buffer!

Did I mention I sent my son off to an ex-stream survivor camp we call call Camp PeePaw? Yes he was to spend a month living the Spartan lifestyle my father lives and in which I was raised. No TV, no video games, no friends, just work and more work and when you finish you can talk about all the work you aren't doing but should if you were man enough but you never will be. HA THAT will hold him! That will make him into the tough lean mean working machine I grew into as a man. The boy left for the month's adventure the day my daughter graduated high school.

Did I mention I went to an old drinking buddy's house for Memorial day and decided to show a bunch of 17 year olds the PROPER way to play volleyball? On the first ball that came to me I was text book in everything I did to make the perfect set... right up until I hyper-extended my knee. On the first freakin ball!!! Yes I realized with the sickening thought I might vomit on the volleyball field and at the same time I realized that I might be too fat and too old to play volleyball anymore.

Did I mention about one week leter I got a call from my father who said my son had been working fantastic around the old farm. He was driving tractors, and shoveling feed and working on machinery and then he busted up his knee one morning while trying to put on his pants after he showered. Naturally I thought they were taunting me and my now famed athletic ability. So after the grandfatherly scolding I got for calling my son's "injury" bullshit, I had to drive across state to bring him home for the local doctors to look over. We were one pathetic site. He was on crutches and I could barely walk. I refused crutches or a cane but my damn leg tried to buckle under me with every step. Another month has gone by and his knee has bounced back with the vitality of youth... I still hobble around like a fat old man who needs to be put out to pasture.... or put out of his misery so he wont suffer any longer.

Did I mention I will be 48 in a couple of weeks? Part of me thinks 50 is still a long ways off and part of me thinks I will never live that long. My blood sugar has been real high and we have been trying to bring it under control by changing up my meds. I really think stress is the main cause but I am back to induction level low carbs because it is effecting my vision and possibly even my breathing. We are closer but the sugar level still bounces all over the chart and not the steady 100 mark I want. I know, I know, you think "So big freakin deal if you turn 50. Lots of people turn 50 every day and you are only as young as you feel. It aint the end of the world just because you turn 50."

Did I mention I turn 50 in 2012? Do you suppose THAT was what the Mayans had in mind when they stopped adding dates to the stone calendar? Is it possible all of the cataclysmic events I just described are foreshadowing the end of my world? Oh great, just when I might get real DSL the end of the world would have to happen. Aint that just my luck?

MY Christmas Story

2009-12-27T02:07:00.003-06:00

The holidays are over and my pants don't want to fit. The state is under a good deal of snow which means my family gives me a daily schedule to drive them so they don't risk a wreck. Evidently the TV news warnings of DO NOT LEAVE YOUR HOUSE UNLESS OF AN EMERGENCY had a tag line that said "or if your Dad can take you." What is worse is Mrs. Cris keeps producing a new grocery/Wal-Mart list every day!

Yes Wal-Mart. The one store you want to avoid the day after Thanksgiving and the day after Christmas. You DO know that all holiday decorations, paper, bows, bags, inflatables, lights, toys, gift sets, and overstocked items will go on sale the day AFTER that most holy of holidays... don't you? So every redneck within 50 miles charges to the store with Christmas cash to get new tree skirts, next year's greetings cards, and the best lights left over from yesterday.

Now I too have been known to rush to this sale. A few years ago I got not one but TWO new tree skirts. They were things of beauty. See, over the past three decades we have collected a vast assortment of Christmas do-dads and trinkets. If we wanted to set it all out we could land jet airliners in the driveway and the house would make even the gaudiest of shopping center malls claim we "over did it" a bit. In fact, we had so much that I had to have an outside storage building created just to hold the Christmas stuff. OK, to be fair there are like three boxes of Halloween and one Thanksgiving box of decorations. But still the building is about 80% Christmas decor and we do not have big outdoor decorations. Nope, it is all indoors baby!

So yeah I don't mind a bargain. So like I said, I bought a couple of great tree skits a couple of years ago. I came in and we all marveled at MY brilliance at finding something pretty that nobody else wanted in a timely manner. Then I gave this freshly found treasure to Jr to put away in a storage bin for to use next year and many years thereafter.

Next fall, when pulling out the Halloween Decorations I found those Wal-Mart sacks where they had been tossed inside the door. Not in storage containers. Not protected from field mice or pack rats or any other vermin that inhabits sheds that only get opened for three months out of a year. No I found the last vestiges of rat torn and chewed rags that untold litters of rodents had crapped and procreated upon.

Hell Yes I stood there in that dank smelling environment desperately wondering if I could find a corner of the round skirt I could turn to face the living room and salvage my once great find. Alas I had to admit defeat and we returned to the old rust stained skirt we had been using for the past 15 years.

BEGONE FOUL MEMORY! GET THEE BEHIND ME!! For today the little Mrs and I ventured unto Wal-Mart where I got a fiber optic tree angle and Mrs C got a new tree skirt. Soon we will take down the tree for another season. We will put away the decorations, both old and new for another year. Then, as tradition dictates I will tell Jr to put the storage bins back in the shed because I am too freakin tired and too freakin fat from all the overeating during the holidays. And then 9 months from now we will see the job he performed and most likely the cycle will continue to turn.

New Year New Resolutions

2009-12-24T12:28:00.003-06:00

Nope I am not going to resolve to blog more often. Some time ago I read a bloggers tip sheet that begged bloggers to not post every day unless they had something worthy of saying. Then I had internet access problems that seemed unfixable unless I move to a more internet friendly location... which I am not going to do right now... So I got to thinking "Just how important is it to blog on and on about nothing?

Sure it was fun, but it was like an obsessive type of need rather than a productive past time. In the past few months I switched my leisure activity to creating a bragging rights only football pool. I could put my humor and limited creativity into that and impact (harass) people closer to home. That experiment has turned out very good but football is coming to a close.

What to do, what to do?

A few things are certain: The internet service will not get better in the foreseeable future and I will not have more "extra time." So, while I will not close down the O blog right now, it is under consideration. AND somehow with Facebook and a Smartphone AND a couple of teenagers who are always occupying the computer... I have less of a need to be online.

Anyway I feel I need to reach a resolution about this blog. My friend Tina just decided one day she was over blogging and she hasn't posted since. Maybe I should have more than one desire about Christina! Anyhoo Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Happy Hawnykah, and that Kiwanis thing. God bless us everyone.

Three Rules Of Life

2009-10-27T05:51:00.003-05:00

As I enter the winter of my life... ok the winter of the year, I grow more introspective. What, I ask myself, what wisdoms would I have liked to share with my children if they had not run off and joined the carnival. (Ha! The joke was on them, it was a community Halloween carnival and not a traveling band of lovable freaks and pedophiles. LOSERS!!)

So thus in my deep and thoughtful introspection I have selected three of life's rules that everybody should live follow in life. These are rules I learned at the college of hard knocks and misdemeanor criminal records.

#3. After year's of separation it always feels good to hug Grandma. But no matter how good that hug feels, no matter how much you are feeling the love; DO NOT slap that ass!

#2. If you apply Deep Heating Rub on your sore back prior to getting undressed and climbing into bed to relax to Cinemax TV; WASH YOUR HANDS before you even get close to touching Mr. Happy!

#1 If you hire a Bagpiper to march in a local parade to promote your new project; INSIST he wear something under that kilt when marching in Oklahoma where the wind comes sweeping up your legs!

Road Rage

2009-10-07T05:49:00.004-05:00

Why Cris, old boy! What the devil are you doing up and on your blog at 5:30am?

Well Dead Reader, I have a Blackberry. And from time to time that Blackberry gets Email. And from time to time, while on the road I set the phone to alert me to incoming messages so I don't miss important work or family related news while traveling.

All reasonable, you think? Responsible family man on a business trip out of town wanting to be available to family and staff needs, right? So there am asleep in a smelly old Holiday Inn when my phone starts alerting me to incoming mail from Overstock.Com and some Holiday Card business and it is 4:30 in the freakin morning!!

Sure I get out of bed, go across the room to check the phone, both times. Of course I go back to bed, I mean it IS this middle of the freakin night... the only reason I am staying in a hotel is so I can sleep the extra couple of hours it would take me to drive here. I mean if I had driven home last night, in order to get back to the state capital I would have had to get out of my comfortable new Serta Perfect Sleeper with the downy soft memory foam topper at em... about 5:30am.

So I go back to bed and toss and turn and figit and finally get up and vent to you, my faithful friend and reader. Yes I used the singular because I pretty much know who actually reads this (thanks Mom) ANYhoooo... Maybe I can go back to sleep and grab another hours rest before it is time to return to the training. I will try because I am responsible that way.

Yes I turned my damn phone off! Yes I want to hunt down and flick rubber bands at the SOB who signed me up for alerts from Overstock.com... a site I have never visited. But I am too mature for thoughts of violent and well deserved retribution. I am a man of piece and love. So I think I watch some porn and try to go back to bed.

The Heat Is On!

2009-10-05T13:32:00.005-05:00

Let it be known from this day forward Cris was cold and he turned on the heat for the winter. I know, I know this should not be blog worthy, but I live in Oklahoma dude! We are still mowing grass on weekends. We do not expect our first frost for another week or two. But it has been dipping down into the 40s at night, it is currently in the mid 50s and my big ass is COLD!

So let the other rednecks talk, scoff if they will. Cris turned on the heat on October 5, 2009. And... it feels good! By the way, I finally moved the TV back to where it belongs so we can access the fireplace. I have to admit the tile hearth and the new wood floor look pretty good together.

My son is in the final count down to the day he will sell his summer cow project for FAA. This is a heard project. He kept careful books on the feed and vet bills. These books he will turn into the teacher with the results of his sale, to show the profit margin on the project. This is NOT a true reflection of the experience. He is not paying pasture rent, he is not paying other family members to actually make sure the cows are fed and watered each day and most importantly he is not paying for water.

Yes Water! Our water bill has been on average about $100 a month more since we got the cows. Granted, a good portion of that is because when Mom or Dad go out to fill the water tank that the boy forgot to fill, they tend to get distracted and walk away in the 20 minutes it takes to fill, and they don't remember to turn off the water until the next morning when they see a flooded pasture on the way to work. If we have another heard project next year we will A. buy the calves earlier in the Spring. B. Mow down pasture weeds to enhance the grass and C. Buy the $20 valve you can put on a tank that turns the water on and off so doddering old relics like my son's Mom and Dad don't have to focus on a task for 20 full minutes at a time.

Today is my daughter's Half Birthday. She has been talking about it all week. She has exactly 6 months of childhood left from today. Fear has started to creep in as the excitement of possibilities has shifted to the reality of time. She is growing up. She will be an adult with adult responsibilities the rest of her life. There is no going back. I try to help ease the anxiety by reminding her that she will ALWAYS be Daddy's little girl.

Fear and the Fear of Fear

2009-09-12T21:53:00.003-05:00

There I said it all in the title. OK, its out there and lying like a cold dead fish on the counter top, waiting on us to chop it up, roll it around in our own special ideas of how to prepare and serve it. Some love it, others hate it and I think maybe the majority of us spend our lives trying to cope with it. Fear.

I will be the first to admit I am a collection of shivering, wide eyed awake in the middle of the night because I can't sleep fear. I fear the unknown, I fear the expected, I fear Y2K really happened and a huge Government cover-up is hiding the fact that we are now totally back in the stone age. I fear the death, harm, sickness, and possible future of my children. I fear loud thunderstorms, weak bladders, spiders, mean people, and Bigfoot.

I know that the majority of people that ride in cars (which is the majority of the majority of us all) will at some point in their lives be harmed in a major car crash, and that scares the crap out of me every time I pull out of my driveway! Statistically I know I am almost guaranteed to possibly die or be dismembered in a car wreck. And THAT fear doesn't even compare to the gut gnawing sick fear I feel every time my children leave in a car, and I don't care who is driving!

Yeah I gotta lot of fears. I fear poverty, health care, lack of health care and the Dentist. I fear I am not working enough, not getting enough done, not creating the security necessary to care for my family and for the time that will be here all too soon when I need more extensive health care.

But none of those fears even compare to my fear of Facebook.

Yeah that Social Networking thing scares the crap out of me because the walls I established between the real me and the Internet me is slowly getting torn down. So now the friends I gleefully spent years with in AOL Chat rooms where I encouraged Lesbian threesomes, are now making comments on the same page my pastor might visit on a regular basis. My kids go to my page as well as my co-workers, and all of the extended families of my co-workers. The Mayor of my hometown is a fellow graduating classmate of mine, and a Facebook friend.

"Not a big deal," you say? "Relax, Nobody cares about that stuff," you think? OK! OK! OK! Let me give you another example.

A few months ago I would have rushed to the computer to tell you of the verbal exchange between my wife and I. You know, one of those things where I am suggesting we have a bit of "Mom and Dad" time. So innuendo leads to suggestion leads to playful touching that leads to "the look."

Only now I am told, "That's not going to happen, for some reason my bottom hurts."

And while I fearlessly looked her straight in the eye with one arched eyebrow and suavely asked, "...you think it hurts now...?" followed by a bit of wagging of those arched eyebrows.

OK I am terrified to post that in a blog entry! Did I mention my wife and her friends read this thing? My mother reads this! My kids read this! And there is no way in the WORLD you can have a good entertaining blog if you allow yourself to be controlled by fear. Fear of castration with a dulled butter knife from the kitchen drawer... while sleeping.... in a house in the country... where nobody can hear me scream... that would report it... because they read the Blog too.... and they were probably the ones that suggested it.

FEAR!

February to Today

2009-09-03T21:16:00.003-05:00

So back in February I decided that it was time to upgrade our Internet Service Provider (ISP) from the on-again/off again wireless feed we have had for the past few years. I went high tech dude, $300 and a computer nerd later I had a high flying Norad satellite system on my brand new roof.

Sure it wasn't the same thing I had agreed to over the phone and it wasn't even technically hooked up and they didn't actually give me the new router (or any router) as promised in the ad. But I had lightening fast satellite internet dude! It worked great for 45 days, which was 15 days past the return date. Then it simply quit working.

We had exceeded our bandwidth limit, we were informed by the ISP. We should upgrade to the next highest package, our new ISP told us. Our son watched Youtube one Saturday Afternoon and ruined the internet for the rest of us... or so I told the others. So after a month went by without internet access we paid a little more and upgraded. Then another month went by and Still nothing. Not even able to access Email most of the time. "You're still exceeding the bandwidth limit" we were told. How in the hell we could exceed it without being logged onto the internet was never explained, but we were assured by the new ISP that if we upgrade to the very highest, most expensive package. And of course that never worked either. We were told neighbors were tapping into our feed and stealing the service, we were told many things and finally we were told that the ISP really "couldn't provide internet to everybody."

So we canceled and paid another $300 to buy out the contract we never used because of the service we never could access. For those of you keeping score... this means that while I paid for everything, I tried for months to get basic service, I kept upgrading to more and more expensive packages as advised until I was told THEY could not provide the service... IF you are keeping score... that translates into I BROKE THE DAMN CONTRACT?!!

SO the wife goes out and gets a 3G card from Verison. It's ok, not all that fast but it is OK. Then I get to looking at the contract she had and see it has... wait for it... w a i t for it........... a bandwidth limit! I refused to be trapped into the same situation as I was with the satellite, so after 30 of never being able to access our the website that shows usage, we canceled the service.

And I KNOW what you are thinking. "But Cris, if you canceled your ISP how are you able to post a blog entry two night in a row?"

Simple dear reader. For a mere $75 I called up my old on again/off again service and had it restored. The same service that I used for the nearly 18 months of uninterrupted nightly blog posts.

My Baby Girl

2009-09-02T22:33:00.004-05:00

So I made this fire pit out by the barn. We moved all our old porch swings that are too old and ugly to keep by the house over by the barn, took over a few metal chairs and made a bench. It is a nice place to sit around an open fire and visit, cook hot dogs or toast marshmallows.

So tonight my little girl says some of her friends are coming over to the house. Now I am hungry, I ate at the office and didn't even finish. Mrs. Cris took off for some selfish reason like church choir practice and I even though I tried to leave the office around 4:00 pm. I never actually got away until about 6:30 p.m. I was really getting hungry and you know what is a fast meal..? Ball Park franks roasted on a big fork over an open fire, that's what is a quick meal!

So I tell the little girl I will make a fire and roast some Ball Park Franks, IF she and her friends want to sit outside around the fire. They all agree this sounds like a great idea since we are having unseasonably cool weather for the first part of September.

Now I tell you all this to set the stage. I am kicking up this outdoor fire and talking to my 17 year old high school senior "little girl" when I mention I stopped by a friend's house on the way home. I told her as I was there, some woman came over and seemed like she wanted to visit and I felt like eh....

OK my mind was desperately searching for an alternative phrase. "Don't say cock block!" my mind screamed at me. "For God's sake say anything but Cock Block!!"

Before my befuddled and confused mind could reroute a synaptic pathway that would allow me to select alternative verbiage, my sweet and unsoiled child looked at me with sudden comprehension and said, "Oh! You didn't want to block his cock!"

All pretense of friendly father, good time guy disappeared as I roared at her in my most commanding paternal rage, "I DO NOT EVER WANT TO HEAR THOSE WORDS COME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH EVER AGAIN!! AND IT DOESN'T MATTER HOW MUCH I WAS THINKING THE SAME TERM EITHER!!"

Now I can't be sure, but based on her burst of giggles I don't think she took me seriously. And then when she told her friends the story later they all laughed and kept asking me what was the phrase I didn't want my delicate little flower to use..? "Was it Cock? Or was it Block? It bothers you to hear COCK BLOCK?"

No wonder girl children have no value in China.

UPDATES

2009-08-22T20:56:00.002-05:00

So we rent out our old house in town. The renter that was living there moved out in August and I found the old building was in need of repair. Part of the roof had blown off, and had been leaking into the house when it rained. The ceilings were ruined in two and a half rooms and the floors in the bathroom, kitchen and the back utility porch needed to be replaced.

Let me tell you, with a more than full time job, doing major repair on a house you are not living in, is TOUGH! Oh yeah I also found many light fixtures were broken or missing, the yard was out of control and needed a major tree removal and I needed a new garage door. Yeah... maybe I should have sold it rather than rent... NAH.. it still makes great return on the initial investment, way more than I would get if the money was in a bank... and WAYYYY more than I got from Edward Jones last year when I gave them $8,000 and they told me I had $4,500 left. Woohooo!

Oh well, luckily I was told the other day I need to take more vacation time or face a stern talking to from somebody that can be really scary. So I took off Friday and next Monday and now I am ALMOST finished!! WOOT!! I have new floors in the kitchen and bathroom and will put a new floor on the back porch soon. The lights are fixed or replaced and we have a new garage door. I have cleaned up most of the yard, there is a little that needs to be done and I think I have the tree things figured out (I hope) so there is light at the end of the tunnel and the house should be back on the rental market next week. THAT is a load off my mind dude. $600 a month lost income PLUS all the repair bills have been a bit of a stressor.

OK If I were to start a service like Twitter, but only for perv thoughts and dirty talk; Could I call it Clitter?

OK now that I tried to impress you with my handy abilities on the house repair, let me tell you that after a full day of laying tile I am covered from head to tow in floor glue. It clings to my leg hair and will not let go! I have bald spots on places of my body that are not the top of my head! And lemme tell ya due, you squat on a floor covered in glue all day with tile and body parts end up getting glued to each other and how THAT happened I'll never know! Honest!

Dallas Invasion

2009-08-14T07:12:00.004-05:00

So here I am in my last day in Big D. Thos of you that follow me on Facebook have seen the pictures. We went out last night for a cutting edge night of adventure, that ended up as a shopping trip to Wal Mart and dinner at a Mexican Restaurant. In a mood of defiance I Texaned up and ordered a manly Mango frozen Margarita with the meal, and then another.

When we returned to the Gaylord Texan I wandered over to the Margarita bar with a couple of my people and had two more MANLY mango frozen margaritas. Sufficiently calmed down from my hideous shopping foray by booze and pre-season Cowboy football I went back to the room to be reminded of a fact I keep forgetting.

I DO NOT do tequila well.

Not well at all.

Hope the neighbors are forgiving.

Oh, on my way back to the room I walked past a stuffed longhorn cow I MIGHT have somehow become convinced MIGHT have been Bevo and I MIGHT have thought it would be a good idea to go cow tipping... but you know how memories get all fuzzy over time? Right?

OK So I Am Not Really Back

2009-08-10T08:56:00.002-05:00

The truth is, I can't seem to get back into the groove. Maybe I am too busy being an adult. Maybe I am too busy with the new job or the family or any of the other things that take time. Maybe I am lazy. The fact is, I don't feel compelled to blog.

I know what you are thinking, "Oh great, yet another blog about not blogging! No wonder I quit reading this loser!" And I kind of agree with you.

The odd thing is there are many times in the day I think of things I really want to share with you. Last night I worked on replacing a floor in my rent house until late. Then I spent another hour peeling glue off my hairy ass. It was like a redneck wax job... Out of desperation I finally shaved bald spots on each knee because the glue was in patches of hair too thick to pull out.

But I didn't.

I'm BAAAAAACK!! ...mabe

2009-08-05T21:25:00.003-05:00

OK OK OK in case you did not know I have been away because I spent over $1000 since February on a different ISP only to find out they were not a reputable company. Last Week Mrs. Cris got a 3G wireless (cell phone) card. Then we wondered of there were routers made for those things and KABAM! I am back.

Tonight the boy and I hooked up the new system and we are back in business. EXCEPT it turns out Verizon has a bandwidth limit like Wildblue. Soooooo I think I should go crazy and watch all the porn that I have been missing over the past few MONTHS and if Verizon can't keep up they can have their freakin card back.

If THAT happens we have to decide of we want to go back to the old system we had but were not happy with back at the first of the year.

OK enough bitching about the wilds of remotest Oklahoma. I can say I missed you. I did! But... not as much as I thought I might. I had a post in mind about Jr's Garden, our new kitten, the fire pit plans, my new hardwood floors and marble tile hearth, good friends, and a few other topics... which includes my potable of choice lately... a mixture I call my fruity gay drink.

OK OK OK you have drug it out of me. My fruity gay drink is a blender of ice, a packet of sugar free cherry limeade kool-aid, one cup of rum of vodka and water. No sugar, no carbs, no calories (except for the liquor) and one refreshing way to get "faced."

Dropping In

2009-07-28T03:55:00.003-05:00

So it's come to this... I used to take pride in the fact that I posted on this blog, and the blog before it, every single day. Even when staying with family in the hospital in another state, I was able to make regular blog posts. Today, while contacting our state's Attorney General as well as the BBB and FCC about the abusive business practice of Wild Blue (Direct TV) Satellite Internet, we added the total bill for the past five months of torture. To date we have spent nearly $1,000 for 45 days of reliable service. 15 days past the refund stage, Wild Blue decided we had exceeded out bandwidth and never returned reliable service, even with two service package increases (one unauthorized) and then they billed us an extra $340ish for the remainder of the contract THEY broke by not providing service.

OK I know I have said all of this before. I know I am a big whine bag cry baby, but I usually spend about $400 a year on internet service. I have now spent $1,000 in the past 5 months and got 45 days of service. The BBB and other consumer watchdogs are filled with thousands of complaints that list the same issues I had. Yet Wild Blue continues to do business and take advantage of rural America that is desperate for Internet service.

So no change. Wild Blue did agree to the BBB to refund $150. Pretty freakin big of them. We quickly alerted the BBB we were not satisfied. Did you know you can not stop payment on bills submitted to a credit card? So, when I called Discover to tell them I no longer want Wild Blue (Direct TV Satellite Internet) paid from my account, I was told by Discover, "Too fucking bad! We pay all claims and then handle them as a dispute." AND if I canceled my card they would continue to bill me as Discover would be the one holding the bag.

Now here is something we all should do, because THIS situation is not right. We need some type of consumer protection. This is a separate issue and not really related to the bad internet thing... although it never would have caught my attention without underhanded and unscrupulous business practices of Wild Blue (Direct TV Satellite)and the way they use your credit card company to enable them to swindle poor defenseless bloggers.

Consumer Protection! It is wrong, fundamentally wrong that YOU do not have the authority to deny payment for services never rendered or that were unacceptable in quality. You have that level of protection with a check, and you have that protection with cash. But in today's modern society our money is an electronic enigma that is represented as account numbers rather than crisp green bills covering a king sized bed that allows you to roll around naked and wallow in your riches... eh... or.. hold in your hand.. while dressed... in a business suit and looking sternly at rest of the world who probably didn't work as hard as you did to get what you have. You know?

SOooooo if I watch Home Shopping Network and end up buying this amazing diet tool that ensures rapid weight loss and receive in the mail a small baby teaspoon... I should have the right to deny payment my four easy payments of $39.99. If I hear a radio ad that foretells the new travel craze of the millennium and 6 weeks later I get a pair of in-soles for my flip flops, it is my GOD GIVEN RIGHT to deny payment, even if it was "no payment no interest" for a full year. Those misleading bastids!

My point is, regardless if you made a good decision or bad decision, YOU should have the right to refuse payment on a contract you feel was broken or was not carried out in good faith. The current system seems to say you have no rights. You can dispute a claim, but if they are a better disputer than you are (and they have professional disputers) you are screwed.

So in closing I would like to remind you that Wild Blue (Direct TV Satellite) company is not to be trusted, they promise a service they never intend to fulfill and they use current credit card policy to swindle thousands of people out of money. The Credit Card Companies simply look at a contract and say "Well... you signed it." regardless of the fact that the other party was the one who operated in bad faith and never provided goods or services, which leave us, the consumer, without protection. In essence: Don't do business with Wild Blue (Direct TV Satellite) Company and contact local legislators about giving you, the consumer, the right to suspend credit card payment to a scum sucking asshat business that is hell bent on raping you like a redneck inmate at Shawshank.

Hey I hardly called them any bad or undeserved names! Pretty good for me, huh?

Blogging from Work

2009-07-10T19:23:00.003-05:00

Where the hell have you been dude?!! Well, I have been tilting at windmills great and small. I have been saving the world on a daily basis before bedtime and I have been without internet at the house. After a four month failed experiment with Wildblue (DirectTV) Satellite, I finally cancelled the service they had failed to provide. My bill had climbed from the initial $50 a month to $70 a month to the final bill of $90 a month (unauthorized increase) and still we had little, if any service. Thus, after months of no home service and hundreds of dollars wasted and tons of loss of work... I cancelled.

This is where Wildblue (DirectTV) Satellite tells me they will now charge me an additional $15 a month for the next two years ($280 total) for the unpaid balance on the service they never provided in the first place, AND they were sending me boxes to take down the dish and ship back to them or charge me several hundred dollars more, in spite of the $300 I paid up front for the equipment.

FUCK THAT!! I called my Discover card and told them to cease all payments on that service. I told them the situation and the suggested I contest all past bills and they certainly understood why I was so impassioned and used the F word a lot to a poor innocent girl who doesn't even work for Wildblue (DirectTV) Satellite company. BUT... Discover has a policy that they never deny payment to a card, they will only contest the charge after they pay... regardless what you tell them.

Soooooooo I think I will have to cancel my Discover card, even though they didn't screw me over. I hear they will continue to take charges and will continue to bill me even if I cancel the card. You know there is a chance this Wildblue (DirectTV) Satellite clusterfuck could end up costing me $1000 for 45 days of service.

So the wife (who seems to have way more time at work than I do) filed a report with the BBB. Turns out they have pages of complaints on this company. All of them exactly the same complaints we issued. She also found a couple of other consumer complaint sites that had a fuckton of Wildblue (DirectTV) Satellite issues. She filed a grievance with the State Attorney General's Office in the fraud investigation division. I feel these guys offer a service they never intend to provide and then take pray upon the desperate workaholics in rural areas. We will probably lodge a complaint with the FCC.

So what did you do this month?

The Great Equalizer

2009-05-29T07:53:00.003-05:00

This could get dirty. I want to warn you up front, things will be said, subjects will be broached, images will be painted vividly in your mind's eye. If you are squeamish, prudish, or feel a need to share with my mother, wife or children... maybe you should stop reading now.

Still here? Cool! I was in the shower this morning, scrubbing away and thinking of weapons for some odd reason, when I recalled the old saying of the Sam Colt's revolving six shooter. It was called the great equalizer of men. No longer was it the biggest, meanest, toughest guy ruled. Now it was the fastest, most accurate, and sometimes... smallest target. The non traditional strong guy could now step forward into a leadership role. This trend continued to the point bigger, stronger, more capable men decided "right by might" sucked ass (something little guys had known for a LONGGGG time) and they decided it was high time for civilization, laws, rules, and codes of acceptable societal conduct that included "No Guns allowed" policy. Then much like political rezoning after a Republican majority victory, all the power went back to the big guys. The dudes allowed to walk among us acting like thugs were back in the driver's seat.

Once again they were powerful, beyond normal rules that apply to others. They were the exception because without the equalizer, might made right. ..... OK OK OK this is not a political rant nor a rant for against gun control. Nope, it is about AOL.

Yes the free CD people of AOL are still trying to do all they can to get customers to leave their browser and use the service for free. See, after losing the lead to free services like Google, Yahoo etc, AOL wants to revamp business in a follow the leader model. Since the others do well with free services, AOL tried to suck up their service so that paying customers will leave but come back to use the suckier service for free. I can't imagine why this strategy is not working.

But back in the day, AOL was the great equalizer only comparable to Sam Colt's deadly invention. On that service, short, fat, bald men were suddenly tall bronzed golden haired Andonis's. All men were 6 foot tall, slim wasted, full head of hair and packed an impressive wad in the pants. Men of all nerdy types were now surfing the MILF world of unrequited love. Amore bloomed all over this planet for a brief shining moment in time.

Then came web cams and the whole system got fucked back up.

I am just saying. You know?

BUSY BUSY BUSY

2009-05-27T09:33:00.003-05:00

So with the job promotion came all new levels of work. Who freakin knew?!! I have not had any free time at my desk at work in months. Usually I can read over news, pass along information, keep up community contacts and get in a good game of Bookworm every now and again. NOT ANY MORE!!

Add to the normal Juggernaut of work load all new University policies and procedures and it is GRANT WRITING SEASON! So, the end result is I am not gone forever, but like the absent father that is common place in today's dysfunctional world, I am the absent blogger in your life. Yes, now when you are on food or alcohol binges, having unprotected sex with strangers and unwarranted shopping sprees with money you don't have, you can now lay all of your blame at my feet as a neglectful and absentee blogger. I have broad shoulders and evidently am willing to bear more responsibility than necessary. I can take it... til it kills me. Just don't expect any reader support checks from me!

On a sad note, I am mourning the passing of Flibbertigibbet. My old (I always intended to make you a drinking) buddy, Nina is dumping her blog in favor of Facebook. No, I am not happy about it. Yes, I can understand it. There just isn't enough of us to go around. So I understand her need to step back, but I will continue to keep my eye on her big, giving heart that is so full of love and promise. And really, I am looking at her heart and not her hooters, HONEST!! I AM NOT LYING!! Mostly.

Paint Worth the Price?

2009-05-20T06:48:00.003-05:00

So here I am up and ready for the two hour commute to the State Capitol for a day of meetings. I get up a bit early to stretch out a nagging back problem that I am just positive will go away any day now, even though it has been nagging me for about a full year. I shuffle from room to room, giant coffee cup in hand and look for something of interest while I stretch. Stretching consists of sitting on the edge of an office chair and leaning forward, which lends itself to activities like reading or getting on the computer.

This morning I saw the newspaper. More importantly I saw the Farm and Ranch circular and the Sears tool book! OK, in case you were not aware I am a MAN! Grunt-Grunt! I have tools and I use them. I have responsibilities of caring for a household of helpless, defenseless people that need MAN skills to keep them from reverting back to the caveman times of living in holes in the ground and eating bugs for nourishment. I know, I know, it is an awesome responsibility for one as young as myself and I am sure it might even make me look WAYYYYY older than I should. It is a burden I gladly bear for my family because I love them.

ANYhow, I start thumbing through the SEARS Tool Book and I see a push lawnmower that costs about $100 more than one at Wal Mart. I see yard tools "On Sale" that still cost twice the price as everyday low prices at Wal Mart. And because I am a child of my time and state, I heard all the old wisdoms that were handed to me by MEN as I grew up. "Sure they cost more, (talking about John Deere Mowers) but that green paint is worth it!" or "Yeah a Craftsman tool cost about twice what others cost, but that red paint or name stamp makes it worth every cent."

So here I am looking at the paper while my stiffened muscles stretch out enough I can drive to Oklahoma City for a long day of meetings, and I am listening to the misty water colored memories of MAN talk. But then my current culture intercedes. I work with a bunch of women. Girly-Girl foo-foo gabbing chicks that don't understand or respect MAN world. When we end up near Tulsa they always have to stop at BRA WORLD or SOAP, OIL AND CANDLE FACTORY. But when I suggest we stop by Home Depot or just hang out at the flat tire changing garage, you would think I had just crashed landed from Mars and asked spoken in some cool alien language. Maybe with a ray gun in my hand and a light saber attached to my cool Martian utility belt... yeah SpaceMAN tools! Cool!!

...uh... I mean... NO WAY! They wont even consider MAN feelings! So my wife walks by me and I point out the price difference and say, "You know that painted-on Craftsman name is worth more," because I have been conditioned by birth to say such things. Then lacking the years of Operational Conditioning from MEN who looked down upon you and called you a pussy throughout your developmental years, my wife sniffed and asked, "Aren't they all made in China or Mexico nowadays anyway?"

She walked away, not really caring if I answered. To her it was a rhetorical question tossed out to feign interest in the hopes of not having another real discussion on tools and MAN responsibility. She did not have to concern herself with the awesome burden of mowing every week or two for nearly half a year, or replacing the roof every 25 years. Nope, she flittered around without a thought in her head doing her girly things like getting the kids up and fed and ready for school, checking homework and paying bills. Chick things that have no place or value in the real world. But I love her and will try to continue to provide the easy life she has, but never fully understands.

Rockwellian Moment

2009-05-19T21:26:00.002-05:00

SO there I was driving along the old Highway 75 between Okmulgee and Tulsa. I say the old Highway, because they built a brand new one in the 1960s that is about a mile to the east. It has four lanes and almost no stops. It has bumper to bumper cars running 75 mph or faster, and they would cut off their own grandmothers if it meant they could get home from the jobs they hate a half minute earlier.

I was driving the old highway. It's a narrow two lane road. You have several small, backwater towns you drive through. From time to time you get stuck behind a farm truck driving 30 mph and you have to slow down and watch the country side. I prefer this road. It links me to where and how I grew up. That back highway is safer, more stable, more dependable, and you know what? Even though I drive slower, I kind of think I get where I want to go just as fast and with a hell of a lot more enjoyment than the ball of acid stress I get every time I drive on that freakin four lane road!

So today I am rounding a curve outside of Beggs Oklahoma. I drive by a collection of country homes and double-wides. Then, just like that, all of a sudden I am seeing a live-action Norman Rockwell Painting right there on the side of the road! It was so freakin cool I couldn't believe it!

If you don't know, Norman Rockwell was a famous painter of early to mid 20th century Americana. When you saw one of his paintings it was like a special look into a slice of Anywhere USA. The typical American experience with the typical American family. Assuming all typical Americans were middle class white people who owned their own homes and could afford Boy Scouts, Health Care, and Holiday feasts.

So today I am on the classic back road trip in rural ass Oklahoma when I look to the left, and there is a family gathered in the middle of a gravel driveway. Mom is prancing around with her arms windmilling about as she loses her cool. The older sister is standing in the middle of the drive with her arms crossed and glaring angrily at little sister, who is sitting next to her spilled bicycle and gently crying as she holds her scuffed knees. Dad, of course, is looking sheepish and ashamed he had not been able to catch his little girl and protect her from all the dangers that come from falling and getting hurt.

It was perfect. I saw the whole thing in a flash at 70 mph and then I was around the curve and they were gone forever. Picturesque America?... no... Picturesque Oklahoma.

Back a Little

2009-05-13T20:50:00.001-05:00

So today, Mrs. Cris called Direct TV's Wild Blue. Hell was raised. Evidently she is way more scarier than I am. They "increased our bandwidth" and tonight I am on-line and running faster than ever. Of course I think they are now charging me for the next step up. So AM NOW PAYING $70 for a service that everybody else can enjoy with DSL or cable for $25-35.

WooHoooooo Life in the country is great. As soon as the boy is 16 years old we might just move back to town.

Your Heart Any Fonder?

2009-05-09T19:48:00.003-05:00

OK here is the deal... Last Saturday afternoon it rained. My 14 year old son was stuck in the house and surfed the web and watched some streaming videos of Japanese cartoons. Monday our Internet pretty much quit working. My wife got an Email from Direct Satellite saying we had exceeded our bandwidth allowance with some massive downloads. .......?!!

It took us a bit of time to figure out what they were referring to and the anger I had built up already over the service not working since Monday has grown to a monumental burn. So I want to tell you about our experience with Direct Satellite's Wild Blue ISP and see if you agree with me, in the need to report these fuckers to our state Attorney General for "Bait and Switch" fraud.

We live in a rural part of our county in Oklahoma. Not a bad neighborhood, I mean there are two school board members across the street from me and the President of the local University is just down the road. The thing is, I am between two towns that have different phone systems. Neither wants to put in new equipment to provide DSL the extra half mile it will take to reach my house. In fact, phone service was so sporadic during wet weather, I finally decided to cancel a home phone and use only cellular phones.

With that decision I then needed to find a new Internet Service Provider (ISP). I decided to go with the local guy that offered wireless service. We had used his service at work years ago and it was not good. I had heard there had been improvements and at $35 a month it was only a bit more than DSL. The problem is, the service was not any better and on windy days, stormy days and sometimes sunny days the service disappeared. The ISP dude told me it was out computers so we actually bought two new ones. Still the problems continued. He said it was my kids, so we killed the kids and buried them in the back yard. Still the problems continued. He then said it was my web sites and that pissed me off so I canceled the Wireless and decided to give Direct TV's Wild Blue a shot.

There was an AD we found that said for $100 they would hook us up and give us a new wireless router. So they show up, the bill is $300 and they do not provide a router. I call and they tell me that the deal was only if we called a local Direct Network person and we had called the national number that had the local Direct Network guy come out. None of that seemed right to me, I mean a Direct Network representative that only used a Direct Network logo for identification seems to represent the same place... right?

OK MAYBE I made the mistake. MAYBE it was a fuck up on my part by calling a different number when I signed up. It didn't feel like it to me, but I let that go. The system is supposed to run at basic DSL speeds and it does have a bandwidth limit but the ads say it only applys to people that would make massive downloads, like loading a lot of movies. Not a problem for us, we mostly just have time for Email with maybe a little Facebook and my Google Blogoverse. I should be in good shape! Oh yeah and they charge $50 a month for the same serive DSL charges %25 - $30 and Wireless charged $35. That's ok, if I can do what I want to do, it is worth it... even if I do feel I was lied to about the hook up fees and installation of a router.

That was towards the end of February. Now in May we are pretty much without service for the past week because my son watched some streaming videos on a rainy Saturday. It couldn't have been much bandwidth because we can't access most videos due to the slower speed. SO I call Direct and the first words out of their mouth is trying to sell me the next more expensive package. If I go to $70 a month, I can REALLY get the same service everybody else gets for $25 - $30 or that Wireless provides at $35. It is not as good as the next tier of service that costs around $100 a month but it will be enough so I can check Email, look at Facebook, go on my Blogger reader and maybe on rainy weekends my kids can use it.

They told me I am "slowed" until the bandwidth returns to normal. That was most of a week ago. It took me four tries to get the post page on Blogger to load. This is not slow, it is not functional and I have no idea how long it is supposed to last because of some streaming videos. Every time I tried to explain we run three different businesses from home and need a service we can count on, they offered to upgrade up to the $70 package. And I am totally convinced that even if I did pay the $70 for the service every body else gets for $25 - $30 dollars and that Wireless provided at $35... they will say I exceeded the bandwidth and need the $100 a month package. It is insane!

Yes I am pissed. I am in a two year contract with a company that I honestly feel is corrupt. I really intend to send this same complaint to the Oklahoma Attorney General's Office Fraud Division, as well as complaints to the BBB and FCC.... except...

I CAN'T GET ON THE FUCKING INTERNET!!!!

2 Blog Or Not 2 Blog

2009-05-04T22:52:00.002-05:00

Ahhh That IS the question I have been asking myself for many months. See, I read a person's blog who said they use a reader and keep up with dozens of different blogs and begged people to PLEASEEEEEE not post everyday if they didn't REALLY have something to say. She said something along the line of, if you care at all about your readers, don't be the douche bag that posts every freakin day.

Mike over at Okiedoke told me the opposite. And he told it to me in person at one of his blogger awards things I never freakin win because he is just a big tease that never puts out! See, Mike said if you want to build a blog, you need to post every day and your writing will get better and you will build an audience. HA! Proved him wrong on BOTH counts, didn't I?!!

So from time to time I have a lull. I know, I know, you could never guess by the high volume of quality posts I make on a daily basis right? Sure I hit a peak when I was putting on a hard push to win me an Okie award* (See Mike fails to put out) but as all things in life have an ebb and flow, so does creativity, and well we are in grant writing season.

So I am faced with the question of "Do I blog or not blog?" I am rather proud of the fact that I have posted nearly everyday for the past year and a half. I am very pleased with the new readers. I am not too proud of the shiny new Okie Blogger Award that is NOT sitting on my sidebar... but you know... I am NOT one to hold grudges, even against a freakin tease like Mike.

So I sit here pondering and pondering about posting. The thing that keeps running through my mind was the last time I felt this way and shared it on my blog, kicked off about 8 months of uninterrupted posts. And face it, NONE of us wants to be the guy who throws a pity party and says I need a break, only to find I need an outlet WAYYYYYY more than I need down time.

In summation. Mike is a tease but I just can't stay away from him. I feel your need to not read crap and I am thinking about posting less, but no decisions have been made.

Summer 2009

2009-05-03T22:48:00.005-05:00

OK So I was thinking about this summer. Like many in Oklahoma, I was holed up with the rain, flipping channels and wondering how I can spend so much freakin money on entertainment and never have anything to watch. All of that is about to change as we are reinvigorated with a new summer season of TV. As a result, I thought I would some of my personal favs.

1. The Great Outdoors: No matter if you love camping, fishing, swimming, or think you want to try sailing. You can't beat the great outside. OK now that I said the required bullshit everybody else says, here is the real entertainment.

2. Eureka : I can't help but love this show. It is smart, funny and nerdy all at the same time.

3. Monk: Yes the show is old and stale. But it has been a winner all these past years and I wont quit it now in its final season.

4. The Deadliest Catch: Yes it will almost be over by the time summer starts, but it is still edge of your seat tension and action. I never feel like I work so hard as I feel that hour sitting on my sofa watching a big TV in a climate controlled house. Life does NOT get any better than that!

5. Burn Notice: Michael Weston is bad ass fun as a spy working Earl Hickey's Karma theory.

6. Rock Solid: Yes it is a home improvement show... crawl off me dude! I like it! In 30 minutes I can feel like I hauled tons of stone and dirt and built a lasting thing of beauty... again, all while sitting on my sofa in a climate controlled house.

7. Psych: Probably better than Monk, definitely funnier than most shows on TV. Shawn and Gus are the USA Bromance to watch.

8. True Blood: Yes I read the Sookie Stackhouse series after Christmas, so that means the series dropped a bit in my evaluation. Other than that, still a kick ass series and a fun tale to follow.

9. Indoors Out: The boys who brought you Rock Solid also make this little show. It is a bit over the top for me... but what the hell, it is summer in Oklahoma. I can either watch this crap or go outside where it is 110 degrees. All things considered... I love these guys!

10. Hung: OK I don't know anything about this show except the guy turns his life around and makes a living off of the fact he has a big dick. Oh yeah, I can foresee many awkward and uncomfortable hours at the old Cris household as the kids horn in on my TV programs of choice.

And there you have it. The entire blueprint of my planed summer vacation while I wait inside, sipping ice cold drinks and awaiting the chilly weather of football season.

2009-05-02T21:41:00.000-05:00

Overheard at the Office

2009-05-02T21:22:00.000-05:00

They always said pigs would fly before we ever had a black man serve a full term as President of the United States of America.

And now, 100 days into office and it is all over the news. Swine Flue!

Mythicles

2009-05-01T22:17:00.004-05:00

Long ago in the ancient Highlands of Caledonia there ruled a mighty warlord named Maesie. This battle scared warrior ruled with an iron fist and demanded the young men venture out bring him loot for his clan. The noble men of Caledonia would return with salvaged herds of cattle, sheep and birds of all kinds.

Maesie saw his kingdom grow and he was pleased. All the men knew their life was secure as long as they pleased Maesie by pilfering the land of all that was valuable. But in time the powerful king had taken all of the available goods. His neighbor's neighbors were without flock or herd. The spoils of conquest grew thin and the grizzled old warrior became angry.

He placed demands that could not be met by his subjects. When they failed he had them flogged in public as a warning to all others that failure to the King bears a high price. In time, all backs carried the marks of the old King's wrath.

One day the men were discussing how it was impossible to please the King. They began to fear for their lives and their families. When a young man named Diarmid suggested they honor the King with a celebration. He suggested they bring in musicians and erect a tall pole covered in vines and flowers. From the top of the pole they should attach many bolts of bright beautiful cloth. Then the cunning Diarmid suggested they have old King Maesie stand against the pole as beautiful maidens dance around him with the streaming cloth. In time the King would he bound and trapped by the streamers and the villagers could kill him or overthrow his Kingdom.

The people of Caledonia agreed to the idea and suggested a Spring celebration to the King. Feeling honored, the aging warrior agreed and was greatly pleased, in fact he was reportedly laughing with joy as the beautiful maidens carefully bound him to the pole as they danced around. Once trapped the villagers descended upon the helpless Maesie and killed the old King.

To this day the May Pole is recognized as a symbol of rebirth, freedom and a chance to watch hot chicks dance with each other.

Oh and Diarmid....? While the villagers were killing the bat shit crazy King, he was stealing back all the livestock stolen from the Highlands of Argyle.

If I were Miss California

2009-04-30T22:48:00.003-05:00

If I were Miss America, I would use all of my powers to try to make the world a better place. I would go to the United Nations and use all of my influence with world leaders so that bleach can be made available to all of the brown and black skinned peoples of the world. Follow the example of St Michael. When he stopped making that colored music and focused all of his attention to becoming a white woman, he proved for all others that you too can be just as good as the rest of us.

If I was Miss America I would visit all the hospitals and infirmaries so I could sit and share my faith with the poor sick and crippled children of the world. I would take their feeble little hands and I would pray that God forgive them for their homosexual thoughts and deeds that led them to be cursed with sickness and ugliness rather than beauty like normal people. Because I believe that if we all raise our voices together God can make all things right and maybe he will reign down his wrath on Muslims and Jews and women who think they are the equal of men.

If I were Miss America...

OK OK OK I can't go on! I can't even pretend to be this stupid twat who thinks she is being persecuted for her faith rather than her bigotry. She is the worst kind of low life. The kind who push hate and intolerance and call it Christian faith.

The Play Revisited

2009-04-29T21:32:00.004-05:00

Yes this play was weeks ago. A buddy of mine has been writing his own murder mystery plays for a community fund raiser for several years now. Actually the first play was produced by my office for some cause or another. That program fell apart and my buddy took the idea and ran with it as his agency's fund raiser. Since he had agreed to be in one for my group I knew I had to be in one for his. Quid Pro Quo and all that rigmarole.

The thing is, this little bitty community theater kind of works like organized crime. Once you get in, it is impossible to get back out! No matter how bad an actor you are! Like Michael Corleone, every time I think I am out, they pull me back in again!

So a few weeks ago I put on an embroidered western shirt under a fringed jacket with a ten gallon hat and stumped around a room full of friends and neighbors as Filbert Fimpleman, King of the Cowboy Catsup. As part of my back story, I would mill around the audience as they ate dinner and try to shill the goods, which was the catsup bottles on their table. My pitch was that it was the traditional cowboy recipe where the tomatoes were roasted over an open prairie fire. And since we all know there is a terrible lack of trees on the prairie, the authentic cowboy roasting fire for authentic COWBOY Catsup had to be made of cow and buffalo chips. "Mmmm if you close your eyes and think about it, sometimes you can actually taste the cow chip flavoring."

Yeah, when I am in a murder mystery, people ALWAYS WANT me to be the guy who gets killed.

Work Bitch and Lizard Spit

2009-04-28T21:36:00.007-05:00

OK I know I said a year or so ago I did not want this blog to be a daily post about how busy my life becomes. I really don't want to be that guy. I also don't want this blog to be about "Oh poor me, I am so unappreciated at work." I really don't want to be that guy. Really!

But today, there I was working with the grant writing team trying to create needed programs for an area in great need while generating 4-6 jobs in an area that leads the nation in poverty. I mean the tension is high as we batter our way through the extended hoops and obstacles of the Federal Government while at the same time I am trying to maintain management of three other programs and 6 other employees working in 23 communities, when suddenly I am accused of NOT paying attention!

Me! The site manager! The programming director. The director of operations. The overlord of the West. ...ok the last title is honorary that I have been trying for years to give myself, but OSU administration wont allow it. Evidently it conflicts with job duties approved by HR. ...ANYdoodle... There I am accused of not paying attention in my own office by the very grant team-mates that are gathered around my computer!

Do they even stop to consider that at that moment I might be working on an important email that will ensure the survival of all current grant programs? Do they even ask if I am setting up yet another super powerful community coalition that will sweep in and save the day for all identified problems?! Do they even care I was on track to break my personal best at Brickbreaker on my Blackberry?

Oh HELL to the no! They simply did not care. But I am an adult. I can take that abuse and let it roll off me like water off a duck's back. ...as soon as I finish this game.

OK there is one other thing. See, my doctor put me on a new drug a couple of months ago. He gave me free samples. The samples lowered the blood sugar and then he gave me a full prescription. It cost over $100 even with Insurance. Still, if it keeps me alive.. I guess it is worth it, right? Only last weekend I saw the drug advertised on TV and NOT in a good way. Yeah, seems people are dropping like flies all over the country because it tends to ruin hearts. SO I stop taking it and had every intention to call my MD and discuss the medicines during the week. But I was busy and never got around to it.

So then there I was last Sunday talking to a friend following church. We both go to the same doctor and we both have type II diabetes. Our Doctor goes to the same church and he walks by, and really, I have always made it a point to NOT talk medicine with him in social functions, but the guy I am with mentions his meds. He is on a new medicine that not only lowers blood sugar but it decreases appetite. He mentions how much he likes the new meds. So, since the door was open, I decided to tell him I had seen my meds on the news.

Well, it looks the drugs I have been taking will be changed because some attorneys will force it off the market simply because it kills people. In spite of its effectiveness at lowering blood sugar! I suggest I might want to try the meds my friend is on, and my Doc agrees we might consider that move.

The next day my friend visits my office. Turns out the meds he is on are shots, not oral medication. I really do NOT want to have to inject myself, let alone twice a day. The other thing I found out is the meds are made from the saliva of Gila Monsters. Oh yeah, not only would I have to inject myself, but I would be injecting lizard spit! So then the moral dilemma occurs to me, would I rather have it injected into me.. or would I rather swallow it?!!

Which would YOU choose?

GM, Swine Flu, and Other Big Topics

2009-04-27T21:20:00.004-05:00

WARNING: The following probably wont be very funny. But then again, Opprobrious Readers are used to that.

What's good for General Motors is good for America! That used to be the standard that this country followed for most of the past century. If it was good for GM to use unions, it was good for the country. If it was good to offer health insurance, retirement benefits, or flex spending plans, it was good for the entire nation. If it was good to focus on math and science and engineer a better mouse trap it was what was in the best interest of the United States of America.

Up until that time when it wasn't. People of Flint Michigan think they know about when that time came. A time where the corporation stopped thinking about serving their customers and only focuses on serving their board of directors. When GM hired Roger Smith and abandoned the Steel City area for the low wages of foreign work forces? Cost went down but prices stayed the same or continued to rise. Profits became the driving force behind the big three. "Damn the customer, full speed ahead." Profits, bottom lines, black ink all wrapped up in investment banker lingo of stock options, deferred payments and eh, well... you know... (b-a-i-l-o-u-t-s). What was never mentioned was service. Sure there was a lot of talk about product loyalty, but somewhere along the line GM and Corporate America forgot to be loyalty, responsible, and truthworthy. The end result was they could build a nice paper report but they knew nothing about running a business. A business is a partnership with the customer. And GM, like most of Corporate America, was not interested in partnerships.

Boy Scout traits like that have no place in American Business of the later 20th Century. When Japanese autos started threatening the big three, there was never talk about creating new and innovative machines that were dependable and reliable. What was produced were pale imitations and medicine show financing schemes. Corporate America took the legacy of Henry Ford, Frank Buick and General Bob Motors and ...(OK I made the last 2 names up) ...and moved away from the concept of service for a price. They believed America owed them loyalty because what was good for GM was good for the country.

Well GM is going belly up. Can the rest of the nation be far behind?

The news reports are full of the newest end of the world. Swine Flu pandemic is here! Swine Flu pandemic is here! There is no cure! There is no immunity nor vaccine nor medicine to treat it! The world is about to end in a coughing, sneezing explosion of vomit and diarrhea. The good news is: maybe you will part of the 50% that lives. The bad news: Not all the people you love will make it.

As for me: Until people start dropping off like a Stephen King novel, I am going to assume this is another Y2K scare.

Finally, we have heard a lot in the news lately about the Pirate situation along the African coast. Yes it is bad. Yes there are people losing their lives. No, I don't really know anything about it. But I do think I found a picture of one of these bastids.

WARNING: The picture you are about to see is a graphic representation

OK admit it... THAT was funny! Right? Hello?

EDITORS NOTE: The editorial staff discussed the above joke and came to the conclusion many Opprobrious Readers will not recognize a Somali (small E) Pirate if it sailed up and fired a cannon salvo in their ass!

Opprobrious Sponsor

2009-04-26T22:15:00.002-05:00

Windy Tale

2009-04-25T23:12:00.005-05:00

Man it is windy where I live! Did I ever tell you the worst tornado in the history of these parts came right over the lot where my house is sitting? Yeah, I heard THAT story several times right AFTER I bought the place.

SO the first year we are out here we get a strong wind and I look out in the back yard and the kid's trampoline is gone! I mean it is nowhere to be found. The next day we locate it a quarter of a mile away and smashed to pieces. After the second trampoline blew away I started driving steel T-Posts into the ground and wiring the frame to the post and the porch.

The first year I was out here the wind blew chunks off my roof. I quickly had to replace it with a much better quality roof. The wind blew apart some little pest repellent windmills. It blew so hard it wore out the ball bearing of the turbine within weeks!

But what bugs the hell out of me is when the wind blows stuff OUT of the ground. Last week we had a steady 60 mph wind for about 20 minutes. I am not kidding, it blew that hard for that long, non-stop. It blew chunks off my new high quality and damn expensive roof. It blew trellis poles out of my front flower garden, the down spout off the rain gutter and it blew so damn hard it blew my 3 year old butterfly bush right out of the ground!

Now blowing so hard it plants out of the ground... now THAT'S some wind!

Friday Fun Night

2009-04-24T23:32:00.005-05:00

So here it is Friday night. Growing up Fridays were the nights for big time TV. And by big time TV, I am talking the three networks of ABC, CBS and NBC. Yes, this was long before Fox, UPN, CW, ESPN or even HBO. Friday was the night of the Brady Bunch (Shut up! Everybody actually watched that freakin show) The Partridge Family, The Love Boat, Fantasy Island and other American staples. Friday night was TV fun night in America and it was all free.

So tonight was Friday night. A quick look at the $120 a month digital Satellite TV reception system that beams a choice of around 300 channels into my living room so that my family can enjoy the pristine entertainment on our 40 inch plasma screen HDTV; and it quickly becomes obvious there ain't a damn thing worth watching. Not to worry! Mrs. Cris comes home with a DVD!

Hey it had Jennifer Aniston, Owen Wilson and some big yellow dog. It even had a cute name about a dead reggae singer. What could go wrong, right?

Now, two hours later, my entire family is snubbing like they just saw Bambi's mother get shot by hunters. My son is sadly playing with our two dogs and Mrs. Cris is curled into a tight introspective fetal position.

Wheeee!

Loser

2009-04-23T22:28:00.002-05:00

OK I am a loser. I admit it. Sure, from time to time I try to hide it, only to have others in my life OH SO Publicly point out that no, I am, in fact, a loser. Sure, sometimes, when I am alone I can get all puffed up and think, "Not this time! I am a winner! I can be cool!"

But always there are those that know me. The kids that know I might have wet my pants back in Kindergarten... that's an example.. a hypothetical example... it might not be true! Honest! Maybe! There are those classmates sitting on the city council that might remember the day I freaked out when I spider crawled across my desk in 4th grade and some girl ran up and squished it. ... again... probably just a fictional account. There are way too many that remember the middle and high school exploits.

Who knew stepping on a corner of the Homecoming Football game field, when walking back to the band stands, would result in a penalty and the eventual loss of the game? Did the Varsity team even care a Freshman might not know all the rules of football? ...eh... Whew! Glad I wasn't THAT loser! heh heh.. I mean, that could cause a guy trouble for life. If he lived in his hometown. Where he was born and went to school and raises his own kids. Where his parents went to school. Where his Uncles went to school and where one of those Uncles taught school. Yeah... that would be bad. If it were real. And I am not saying it is, mostly.

But here is the thing. You know how from time to freakin time, I end up posting the occasional typo on this blog during the 20 minutes I spend nightly just before bed...? Well, sure it is embarrassing and sure I feel like a loser. But I have felt worse. You want to know when I felt worse than posting big stupid typos? The other day I did a Google search for Tagamilf. And this blog barely even showed up for a fictional product I created and continue to post on my Google blog!

Sheeesh! What a loser!

Work

2009-04-22T22:06:00.002-05:00

I am disgusted. I just got in from work. We checked out nearly all beer vendors in my County. We did really good except in my home town where half of the convenience stores sold to a group of 17 year old girls.

HALF!

At Prom season!

Just before Graduation.

Half!

That means after nearly two years of hard work trying to establish compliance checks, we still have almost totally unfettered access to low point beer.

Houston we have a problem. Tomorrow we can form a community action plan to deal with the situation. Trust me, hell will be raised.

Opprobrious Sponsor

2009-04-21T22:06:00.003-05:00

You Can Relax!

2009-04-20T22:30:00.003-05:00

You can relax! The father of that little girl in Slumdog Millionaire now claims he was not trying to sell his little girl for $300,000. He also did not say what his current asking price is now that has received so much interest (advertisement) from the press. Evidently Slumdogs don't have Criagslist.

You can relax! While greedy communication conglomerates are trying to bill you every time you access the Internet, your calls and complaints to your elected officials have kept the World Wide Webosphere free for a moderately high monthly service charge. Actually that is an interesting article that describes how we pay for Internet services compared to other nations like Japan.

You can relax! I still hate to eat fishy flavored food! But I recently started making a breaded Tilapia made with a tossed together mix of soy flour, ground flax seed and old bay seasoning. I also toss in a few creole spices. I just set the fish (bought at Wal-Mart and sealed in individual packages) in warm water for a few minutes while I make my dry mix and beat an egg. Then I make like chicken fry. Let me tell you, I do NOT like fish. But I could eat that stuff all day long. One $4 pack of fish will feed four people. I steamed some veggies and served with cottage cheese.

You can relax! This is not going to turn into a cooking blog. It's just that I bough a bag of soy flour and a bag of flax meal nearly a year ago and I felt compelled to use it. Sooooo I tried it out on fish. That way if it was awful, it wouldn't bother me if I ruined it. Turns out... it is KICK ASS!

You can relax! Sure the TV season is winding down, children will be free to roam the streets unsupervised all hours of the day and night as school lets out and the only safe haven you can find is in the house where you face endless reruns. But hey, your old buddy the BLOGGERS keep making new posts every day. Just some of them about are about dinner. Fish dinner.

OK we're all screwed.

Tech Support

2009-04-19T22:36:00.002-05:00

So a lot of my friends decided to open a secret Facebook group. They want it secret because we are a collection of professional nerds that went to High School together. Yes we were on the Debate team so you KNOW we were smothered in groupies, fans and hot chicks trying to get knocked up so we would be forced to marry them.

Actually, nailing nerds did become a popular theme for high school girls about 10 years AFTER I graduated. Fuckers! But at any rate, we have Doctors and Lawyers and business owners and such. Real Captains of Industry, but when we hang out we tend to revert back to the 10th grade and comments reflect that regression. "Fuck you, you fucking fuck!" is still met with glee and a fresh round of drinks. So, needless to say, what is said in that super secret Facebook Fortress of Nerd Solitude STAYS in the Facebook fortress.

So then I start getting questions on "How do i...?" Hell I don't know! I really only glance at the comments on my phone. I have no idea how to even get to other pages nor do I know who all can see whatever you write. So don't ask me, OK? Just start doing it, and when all the others tell you that you are a stupid asshole that is doing it wrong... then we will BOTH know how it is done.

And THAT'S how we learned on the great American High School Debate circuit.

Needing Your Help

2009-04-18T22:12:00.002-05:00

OK OK OK so now I think I need some help here. See have I been sick since about Wednesday night. I stayed home and read up on some impending projects on Thursday and Friday. I started taking supplemental medicines on Saturday, so I have been asleep most all day.

Here's the problem, I still feel like crap and these freakin deadbeats around here are beginning to grouse about waiting on me hand and foot! SO I need new ideas to keep them engaged and nurturing, and I need them quick!

Should I lie and start acting like it is a much worse situation than a mere cold? It COULD be pneumonia (most defiantly is not)... but it COULD be!

Should I play up other injuries? When I eh... cough it really hurts my inflamed muscles on my injured back. Add that to the aching chest and it's too much pain... could you get me a Fresca?

Look when we move beyond those few old standards, I have used my entire bag of manipulative tricks! I need some new ideas and I need them NOW!!

Rant (Non-Political)

2009-04-17T23:00:00.004-05:00

You know what really grinds my gears? What gets my goat? You got any idea at all what chaps my hide, burns my ass or gnashes my teeth? People! Yeah, freakin people! Oh and don't look all surprised them glance around the room, because you and I BOTH know that YOU'RE one of them!

People who don't care enough to recycle or try to save the planet. People too freakin lazy to put refuse from their car in a disposable and biodegradable refuse bag rather than tossing that Styrofoam cup out of the window and into my yard. I am not just talking about litter. Luckily we are having unprecedented grass fires around here, so most the litter is getting burned up. Besides, mowing season is about to start and that gets rid of a lot of it too.

Like I said I am not talking about the random litterer, although those fuckers that trash out my yard need to be strung up in a public square by their balls... which I would then set on fire. Maybe hang them by their burning balls and they can have one free hand... holding a meat tenderizer! Yeah! That's what ought to happen to those fuckers.

But really it is society. We all treat everything around us like it was disposable. We have disposable dishes, and cups and diapers.. but I don't want to rant on a topic that has already been ranted to death. No I want fresh material that will get you thinking and maybe talking and hopefully testing out some new ideas (like that hanging litterers up by their burning balls and giving them a meat tenderizer to put the flames out with.. that's a good one! Wright it down for later) So what really pisses me off today is my porch swing.

I know, I know, this seems way off topic from the green piece you started reading, but hear me out. Around two years ago for mother's day I got Mrs. Cris a brand spanking new porch swing for the back porch. We can go out on nice mornings and peacefully swing while enjoying coffee and the beautiful country side. In the summer evenings, we come in and watch the children swim or jump on the trampoline. Occasionally I will break out the old guitar and bust out an old Clapton or Eagles song in the peaceful tranquility. Til the dogs start howling so much I get mad and go back in the house.

But last year the canopy top of the swing started to tear and ended up in tatters. This year the cushions got a rip (from the little freakin dog that wont stay off) and now the cushions are shot. So I don't even know where to find a new canopy and closest I can come to replacement cushions cost the same as a new swing that looks exactly like the old one! So... I am really forced into considering the old swing disposable. I don't want to throw it away. I don't want to replace it with a new one when it can easily be returned to almost pristine condition. But I would be a fool to not recognize that for the same price I can have NEW rather than not new and no canopy top. And that pisses me off!

I would much rather go to Wal Mart, buy new cushions and a top for about half the price, then put the old ones in a plastic garbage bag and send it off to the land fill. ...what? Hey I don't make the freakin rules for trash pick up! That's how they roll, and you either play by their rules or you have to become your own trash service. Which, by the way would take WAY more time and end up costing way more money. And THAT'S what grinds my gears!

Sick Daze

2009-04-16T22:12:00.003-05:00

I didn't go to work today. I didn't feel all that bad, but I have been feeling really run down, and I know I am coming down with something. I also know it will get a lot worse before it gets better, but I have a lot of work back at the office and I had a hope I might make a rapid recovery. So I called in sick, I took it easy and sure enough I am feeling worse.

All kinds of sick bugs seem to be going around right now. I think it is the last Huzzah of the school year. The Government compulsory germ factory of every community. I think I was sick at this point last year too. And nothing has changed... I still freakin HATE feeling sick!!

Oh well, I will get worse, but my body will adapt to feeling like crap. Then about the time I feel I would rather die than keep living like this, I usually get over it. I have so far. I will assume I will again.

But tonight, but head is pounding, my lungs are burning, my bowels are... well they are making their presence known as well. I will weather the storm, I will suffer in dignity, I will be a man. A man with hot compresses on my feet, ice packs on my head and Mentholatum on every surface of my bedroom, bathroom, computer and TV room. A force to be reckoned with as I weakly ask the nearest family member for a fresh icy cold drink or a softer pillow. A man among men that leads by example for all in his home. Because THAT'S how I roll!

Now if you will excuse me, I need to see if I can score some ice cream ... for my burning throat. ......Oh Mrs. Cris..!!! Honey..?

The Restaurant

2009-04-15T23:12:00.004-05:00

So there we were. Six of us gathered for a professional lunch. Most of us had been to a two hour teleconference meeting of state programs. We had discussed a lot of topics, mostly while we were SUPPOSED to be listening to the meeting. When it was all said and done, we agreed to go to lunch.

We picked the local Mexican Restaurant we enjoy. Authentic Mexican American food. Not really Mexican, because nobody in Mexico eats that crap. But we had our Taco Salads, and Fajita Burritos and Pollo Loco. This place is great but it gets really crowded at lunch and that means it keeps getting louder and louder. We are having a good time when I get an email alert from Progress America that claims, "Conservatives are Tea Bagging Washington."

Now I follow the news. OK, I follow the news headlines on Google news reader. I mean, I might not know what the hell is going on in the world, but I know OF them. So I ask my co-worker who is at the far end of our table, "What is all this I keep reading about Washington and Tea Parties?"

Let me warn you here, THAT WAS A MISTAKE!

HER: "Oh it is a bunch of dumb ass Republicans claiming they are taxed without representation. SO they want to protest like the Boston Tea Party. They are Tea Baggers and they plan to TEA BAG Washington!"

ME: I get real uncomfortable, "uh... could you not shout that out please?"

HER: "Why? We are in a Democrat stronghold. Everybody around here agrees they are a bunch of TEA BAGGING Conservative assholes!"

ME: Cringing. "Keep it down! Sheeesh! You act like you don't know what that means?"

HER: Confused. "What...? Tea Bagging? TEA BAGGING has another meaning? I never heard of any other meaning for TEA BAGGING!"

The others at our table get up and go to the front (before we are asked to leave) so they can pay their bill and get out of town. The director of the visiting agency is trying to decide if she is amused or outraged. She leans over and pats my co-worker in an understanding manner, "It does have another meaning."

HER: "What else could you mean talking about Tea Bags?"

About this time the wait staff hurry her bill and promptly check her out. I turn to the new guy and ask, "Do you mind taking her outside and explaining what that term means?"

HER: (Still yelling in the restaurant) "He's going to take me outside and explain TEA BAGGING to me in the parking lot?"

She swears she had never heard the term. She swears she never saw the Emails of the passed out drunks that listed the expense of an evening on the town only to pass out and have some dude's room mates tea bag his open, snoring mouth. Priceless.

Yeah... I kind of feel the same way YOU feel right now.

Unsophisticated TV

2009-04-14T22:09:00.004-05:00

My Aunt once told me the compulsion to line things up in a rank and file was a characteristic of siciopaths and mass murderers. Of course she is also the woman who told her three children to draw and color a tree. Her two sons drew and colored trees like you would see outside in the bleak winter. Bare shrunken trunks devoid of any fresh life. Looking old, gnarled and uninviting. Then her daughter, the youngest child drew a full bodied tree, so full of life it was too big to fit on the paper. It was full of abundent life and promises of fun times for the adventurous willing to climb or peaceful promises for those that want to lie back and enjoy the shade. My Aunt framed those pictures and kept them in her dining room. When the kids left the room she would say it was a representation of sex drive and she was concerned about her little girl.

ANYhooo tonight my son demands that I name the best show on TV. This is not a problem since I have been saying it for sometime. But maybe, just maybe I should put forth the final answer for best of TV viewing.

10. Supernatural
9. Bones
8. Hereos
7. House
6. Phych
5. Fringe
4. Burn Notice
3. Deadliest Catch
2. Reaper
1. Chuck

My system is simple. If I had to choose which show I could watch if I could only watch one, I would pick Chuck over all the others, then Reaper and so on and so on. The sad part is, Reaper is a damn good show that will never see another season. Oh and granted, if the bottom half fell off of TV I would hardly even care, which speaks as to how freakin bad TV shows have become in our lifetime.

The Senior and the Freshman

2009-04-13T22:56:00.004-05:00

She was three when he was born. Filled with excitement at the prospect of her very own baby brudder. From the moment we brought him home, he was all hers. She nurtured him, she pandered to him, she spoiled him as much or more than his own mother. He was HER baby brudder and he was all she ever wanted.

As he grew and struggled in school she was there for him every night. Patiently going over his homework. Explaining the intricacies of elementary school in a way that no adult could ever understand. In middle school she coached him in how to dance, how to talk to girls and she approved his "sexy walk."

In less than a month she will begin her final year of high school. In less than a month he will begin his first year of high school. Together again, the big sister and baby brudder that have never really been separated, despite the gap in ages, schools, or friends. They are each others best buddy and share a bond I will never know. I love them both and I know they love me, but they have a love, a concern, a closeness that I will never have, and I know they will share it forever.

So next year, when she assumes her traditional role of the Senior that initiates the incoming Freshman class, I know she will be gentle and loving as she oversees the swirlies, the tossing in trash cans and stuffing in lockers. She might walk among him and his little friends with the strut and confidence of a full grown upperclassman, but I have total confidence she will not try to intimidate her baby brudder whom she loves so much. That's the love between a big sister and a little brother.

Lazy Easter Blog

2009-04-12T21:53:00.002-05:00

A Meme stolen from Facebook

You are supposed to write a note with the ABC's of YOU. At the end, choose 26 people to be tagged. You have to tag me so really you just need 25 more people. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you - but not in a creepy stalker kind of way.

p.s. Cris is not tagging anybody, play if you think it is fun.

A - Age: 48

B - Bed size: flower (ok ok ok) King

C - Chore you hate: All of them! I am a guy.

D - Dog's name: Lucy and Argyle Barkley McFurry

E - Essential start your day item: strong coffee and internet news.

F - Favorite color: I can't answer this question. I have to have a purpose for color.

G - Gold or Silver: teeth filling? Gold is safer isn't it?

H - Height: 5'4" sadly

I - Instruments you play(ed): Guitar

J - Job title: Overlord of the West for a small branch of a grant funded program at a state university

K - Kid(s): 2 - Amanda and Colin

L - Living arrangements: 1 wife, 2 kids, 2 dogs, 1 cat named Kali for the Hindu six armed Goddess of Destruction

M - Mom's name: Pat

N - Nicknames: Dumbass, Asshole, rat bastard, butthead, and sweetie. Oddly only my wife uses those nick names.

O - Overnight hospital stay other than birth: Around age 40 I had Gall bladder surgery and found out I was type II (fat ass) diabetic. It was a rough few weeks.

P - Pet Peeve: People who don't follow through

Q - Quote from a movie: "I found the ass end!" Kevin Beacon in Tremmors

R - Right or left handed: Right

S - Siblings: 1 sister. I am the baby of the family

T - Time you wake up: 7ish A.M.ish unless I have early obligations

U- Underwear: they start off clean

V - Vegetable you dislike: potatoes dislike me. Actually they dislike my pants. If I eat them, my pants wont fit.

W - Ways you run late: Pain. A lot of back pain in the past year

X - X-rays you've had: I expect pretty much the whole body, though oddly enough I have never broken a bone. I have dislocated, pulled, herniated, separated, banged and/or bruised every part of my body for fun and pleasure.

Y - Yummy food you make: I like nearly all the food I make. I have no idea if others would like it.

Z - Zoo favorite: free day pass

Easter

2009-04-11T19:43:00.005-05:00

So it is finally Easter. There is no talk of colored eggs, there is no talk of pretty dresses or little bunnies. It is Easter here and it marks one full year we have attended the new church. See, we are converted Baptists. Actually I am a converted Luthern who converted to Baptist but never liked the message and ended up converting to Presbyterian. I know, I know, BORING!! Not what you want to read and to tell you the truth, I would have clicked out of this post by now myself.

Except in the past year I have felt a sense of belonging I never suspected I would feel. And, well... a bit of vindication. The church I go to greets you with the words that you are loved beyond your ability to even realize. You are embraced in this warm glow of love and forgiveness of whatever you did, or will do, because face it, we're all a bunch of fuck ups.

Granted, right now, the evil part of me wants to start thinking of scenarios to test that thesis, but right now I am feeling reverent and will suppress those urges.

However, it might make a good contest and the best, most opprobrious suggestion wins a chocolate Easter Bunny.

OK, now where was I? So the thing is I went to that Seder with my kids. I have always wanted to go to a Seder, but could never get invited. I also suspected this would be a typical church diner that was simply called a Seder. But MAN was I wrong! It was the full Monty baby! I mean they had traditional Hebrew prayers, the roles of the family and traditional food... although how Jews wandering in the desert were able to make bar-B-Q brisket when they couldn't even make fluffy bread, is beyond me. I mean, sheeesh, even the Mexicans could make a tortilla... is THAT so hard?

ANYhooo, we had a great time and then last night was Good Friday. Now this is a small church. We are the youngest regularly attending family and we are in the early 50s age bracket. There might be about 25 people attending church on most Sundays. But for this night they hired a stringed orchestra to accompany the music director and the choir. Plus, some good singers came over from some near-by churches. It was really special.

Now I tell you this because all of my adult life I have felt we celebrate religious holidays backwards. Sure Christmas should be celebrated. It was a great gift to everybody. But Easter is the real day that needs to be acknowledged. Without the events of Easter weekend there would be no Christianity. And what I realized last night while being blown away by the service, was that unknown to me, that is exactly how my new church treats the holidays. And once again, things fit together like Forrest and Jenny, peas and carrots, and Jews and banking.

So I guess what I am saying is, May the peace of God be with you this Easter. I think, for maybe the first time ever, it is with me.

Opprobrious Advertisement

2009-04-10T22:19:00.001-05:00

Storm Troopers

2009-04-09T17:29:00.003-05:00

So there I am driving home from a day of meetings in Oklahoma City. The new guy in the office is with me. He is a former cop, former storm chaser, former EMT (who resents it if you pronounce that as Empty). So there we are driving home and we get a few splatters of rain.

"Oh this is on north of us," said the experienced weather guy. "Its really going to make a rough storm about 60 miles north of here. Its that big of a system."

So I drive through the smattering of rain. I have an experienced storm chaser here with me! Hell, this is better than Dopler Radar dude! So I punch the car on up to about 80 MPH when I hear, "Yeah this is how one of our cops got killed. (pause) Hydroplaning." So I back it back off to about 65. He is, after all, the expert.

Then I see speckles around the large rain drops. "Uh-oh," I said while thinking about my poor 2007 Fleet Silver Chevy Malibu. "We are about to get some hail."

The new guy looks around confused, since there is no hail falling. "Nawwww, the hail is all north of us."

Immediately we are met with the pinging sound of semi-solid hail chunks ricocheting off the car body. Soon we hear the CRACK! WHACK! of larger, harder stones trying to crack through the windshield.

"I thought you said this was all north of us!" I demanded at the new guy. About then both of our cell phones buzz and we get an urgent storm warning from the local TV weather guy (costs about $7 per year for the service). We are in a severe thunderstorm, do not venture into it unless you are a total douche bag that doesn't care if his car is beat to hell.

"Look up ahead," the guy soon to be known as "Short timer" said to me. The sun is shining, so there is no hail there."

I speed up to hit the clear spot sooner.

"Hydroplaning kills people!"

I slow down and endure the click clack cracking of the hail stones on my car. Soon enough we are driving in sunshine. "See," said the former employee, "It all went to the North. We are free and clear now!"

OK two more hail storms later, each worse than the one before it, and we finally made it home. I hate driving in Oklahoma Spring weather.

SADER

2009-04-08T22:53:00.003-05:00

No I am not sad. Tomorrow my children and I are going to a semi-traditional Sader. I say semi-traditional because it will be held by the good people at the Presbyterian Church and it wont really focus on Passover or the Festival of lights and... well... an Easter Ham might be involved.

So tomorrow night will begin the Easter weekend festivities. Easter Sunday will mark a full year we have been going to our new church. From what I understand, we have a Sader on Thursday, we do some kind of somber ceremony on Good (depressing) Friday and Easter Sunday is a much happier day.

Oddly enough I have wanted to attend a Sader for years! In fact I kept trying to get the few Jewish people I knew to invite me over. Plus it involved a lot of free food... which my church says makes me an ideal Presbyterian in my thinking. So the whole dang thing has moved in a puzzling circle for me. I have been a cynical, non-practicing person of faith that was interested in tradition and wanted to experience a Sader and all it involved. As a reward I will get to go to a Sader because I joined a different Christian church.

OK you gotta admit, if you are still reading... that's pretty damn cool.

Things I have learned Lately:
1. Deadliest Catch comes back for another short season in about a week!
2. It is not good to answer your Supervisor's text of, "I have a Dr. confirmed case of the flu. I will be out all week." with: "WooHoo! Fuck Yeah!! Party at the office! Woot!!"
And of course there is my old standby Life lesson"
3. Never keep the toothpaste in the same drawer as the Preparation H.

Oh yeah... and I am pretty sure Nina at Flibbertigibbet invited me to a sleepover at her house this weekend. I REALLY want to show up with a bottle of Patrone (it makes your clothes fall off) and visit. But it's Easter weekend and I love my kids.

Easter Look

2009-04-07T22:32:00.003-05:00

Mr. Touchy Feely

2009-04-06T21:44:00.003-05:00

Men don't cry damnit! That's all there is to it and if you don't know that you ain't no man! And its not just my Mom that keeps saying that to me. You never saw John Wayne cry and he got shot a lot! You never saw Denny McClain, Indiana Jones or that Transporter guy cry and they always get kicked in the nads.

So in my world that I like to think I live in, real men don't cry. ...except maybe at movies or real sentimental TV shows or reading some email because people are fucking with their emotions and deserve their ass kicked for doing it. So there, I have stated my position and that is how I try to live my life, as my Daddy taught me and as I taught my son who never listens to me.

Sure, you end up with an emotional cripple. That's what we call MEN! HELLO! Thank you for keeping up with the story to date.

So today I go to work and a girl I work with tells me she has an unexpected doctor's visit. I ask if things are OK and get the feeling we might need to talk. "If I talk about it, I'll probably start crying." She says.

Good enough for me! Case dropped! New subject introduced, can't wait til that freakin football season starts up, how about you?

Then I go by an old friend's office to invite her to lunch with the group and introduce her to a co-worker who wants to contract with her for training. I am met by a distraught woman who's son is having some control problems and a family (grown children) situation that is getting out of hand. Stress level is REALLY high!

So there I stand, seeing all of this vulnerability of a dear friend and I take action as a real man in my world will! I sprang to her verbal defense by eloquently saying something like, "Uh... sorry about your uh... son and stuff. Uh.. you can hug me if it will make you feel better."

Oddly enough, this dear friend recoiled as if a sulfur bomb had exploded in the space between us. Then looking at me from this now exaggerated distance from her leaning away, sneering in disgust and acting like a general gramophone, she says, "No, I am afraid if you did I might cry."

So I go on to lunch, trying not to feel too sensitive about how two women threatened to break down into tears if I even came close to touching them. We have a lunch with the majority of co-workers, including my wife, sitting as far away from me on the other side of the restaurant as possible.

OK I don't need to go into great detail here but there were others today who seemed ready to break into tears at my mere touch. They did NOT seem like tears of joy. They were not happy tears. No, those seemed like the beginning of tears of misery and heartbreak. And there I am, armed with my life's experience and ingrained certainty that I will be imprisoned as a sex offender if I even accidentally brush against a female co-worker.

You know, the problem here just might be that I am just too darned manly. I am just too dog-gone macho for all the women I have to deal with in life. I am no Dr. Phil, who can seem to answer any problem by forcing guilt on the person feeling like dog crap, with a simple, "So how's that working out for ya?"

Damnit! Here I am overwhelmed with an inability to help or make things better and all I really needed to do was act like an asshole, then tell everybody I am helping them deal with their feelings! Yup! That's me from now on! Mr. Sensitivity! What, you are the one who felt bored and decided to see if there was something more interesting than your family on-line. SO how's that working for you?

heh heh heh It's Brilliant!

Fun With Blackberry

2009-04-05T21:56:00.003-05:00

So there I am in church. All dressed up with my really religious tie and trying not to fall asleep in the pew. Then I realize, as I sit there in the pew, with my head bowed and hands in my lap... nobody would be able to tell if I am praying, reading the bible or playing with my Blackberry. So here is my top 5 fun things to do with a Blackberry while in Church.

5. Go to Google Image search, turn off the safe search filters, and search each female church member by first name only. "Amber" or "Heather" etc.

4. Brickbreaker

3. Go to the phone book section and Text all of your friends, "I'm currently in church so that means I am holier than you are, you fucker!"

2. Craigslist personals

and the number one fun thing to do with your Blackberry while in Church...

1. Call other church members to see if they remembered to put their phones on silent.

The Plays The Thing

2009-04-04T22:47:00.003-05:00

So tonight we performed. Last night was the one and only semi dress rehearsal that included blocking. It was terrible. A lot of it was my fault, the script I thought was in the back seat of my car turned out to be a grant RFP we have decided not to write. My bad!

So the rehearsal went bad and we never had a good idea of how the play would look. It had been written by a community member so this would be the first and maybe only performance. Than around noon today I get an email on my Blackberry. "We decided to change the blocking so that most of the play will be wandering through the audience. No need to rehearse, we'll wing it."

So we do the play. I wander around the audience and try to make myself hated to the point everybody wants me dead. It is a murder mystery and I die first. So I wander around, pick on people, try to publicly embarrass as many as I can before the beginning of the play.

So we do it. We finish. There is laughter. Afterward I walk around and visit with friends in the audience. There is my friend Micah, whose wife was in the play. He does not look amused. When I ask if the play was all he expected, he makes a disgusted snort and agrees that it was.

Thinking I might get my needed positive affirmation elsewhere, I wander over to a group from our church. I sit down asking if they enjoyed the show. I am greeted by stony silence. Finally, the old retired minister in the group advises, "Don't quit your day job." The wife of one of the actors leaned in and seems to support the assessment.

The old adage is true. Dying is easy, comedy is hard. Community Murder Mystery Theater is Way harder.

You Know What I Want?

2009-04-03T22:09:00.001-05:00

Futureshock

2009-04-02T22:28:00.004-05:00

I want to be a good parent, but I don't feel I am reaching my goal lately. Oh hell, let's be honest, I don't know if I have ever felt I was reaching that goal. I am here for my kids. I provide for them, I am able to take off and do things with them. I am involved in the community and everybody knows they are my kids, so there is a good level of safety. But I always have this nagging fear that I am the thing that ruins any hope of a future for my kids.

Sure they have food, clothing and shelter. They have the best medical, dental and vision care that can be found in this neck of the woods. They are loved and they are held to high standards of school performance, and they suffer consequences (grounding) if they do not meet those standards. They are provided with a variety of entertainment options and their friends are constantly in my house, eating my food and watching my big ass TV with Cartoon Network crap rather than football.

But that is today. Tomorrow they will need to go to college to get an education so they can be happy successful adults. Sure, you don't have to have a college degree to do that, you might be special and smarter than the average bear. On the other hand, who the hell is dumb enough to count on that?! No, they need a paper ticket to get into the game and make a life. And that is where I will fail them.

Sure I have some money put back for their college. But it is no where near enough! Holy crap I barely have enough set back to send one kid to a state college, I have no idea what would happen if either or both of them decide to go to bigger out of state schools. I can try to save, but it is not realistic to save enough on my middle class income. I do, however, make just enough to assure they will receive no help from the Government other than loans! So while all the other kids are skipping off to a new life of productivity, my kids will be looking at huge loans before they even get a chance at graduate school. What if they want to go into medicine, law, or some other expensive school?

So I talk to my father about these fears. He chuckles and tells me its good to have to earn your degree. But I actually graduated from college. Its a lot of hard work and it is damn hard to concentrate when you are concerned about the next meal or where you will sleep. And THAT could be my kids future because I make a little over the cut off line for student aid. If you make $75,000 or below, your kid gets a free education. If you make above that... you will wish you hadn't. Well, your kids will blame you because their life involves shaking the french fryer at McDonalds while the classmates that copied their homework are driving off in new cars. OH you KNOW I am going to be blamed for that!

So my Dad calls me today. "I been thinking about this. I got a bunch of money in an IRA that needs to come out. We need to find a way I can move it to a college savings plan and not pay taxes on it."

OK readers, any ideas from you guys...? Any...? Any at all? Really, I would entertain any ideas on how to do that. Honest!

So we discuss many options and end the conversation in frustrated silence. I share the problem with my co-worker who says, "Why doesn't he just give you the money and you pay the taxes on it? You would get a 4-1 return." And as simple and brilliant as the solution seems, I don't think my Dad would ever agree to it. It's not the providing the money for an education that appeals to him, it's the screwing the government out of taxes. And you know what...? In 20 years that's somehow going to be all my freakin fault too!

undisciplined

2009-04-01T22:06:00.003-05:00

I am not stupid. I don't think I will ever be the guy that knows he is the brightest person in the room, not by any means. But I am not stupid. What I am, is undisciplined. I lack the strength of perseverance for the everyday and the mundane.

Maybe that makes me a product of my time. The generation that formed with giant corporations investing millions and millions of dollars to get my attention. As a kid growing up, I was clearly defenseless for the flashy, slick productions that vied for my notice. Taking the good old path of least resistance, I am a product of my time.

Now take into consideration Nathaniel Hawthorne is a really big deal, not because he was a great writer. I never thought he was that interesting. But he was one of the first people in the early days of the white occupation of this nation that had enough leisure time that he could write stories for his and other people's amusement.

We went from that to games to physical activity to Television to cable TV to video games and VCRs and DVDs and Wii and Holy crap how am I supposed to pay enough attention to the things I have to do when it takes all of my concentration to focus on what I want to do?!!

SO again, I will say I am not stupid. I am a product of my time. I see the teaching of Francis Bacon and I know his scientific method is an easy to use, highly effective way to plot actions and make recordable improvements. But I also know I lack the discipline to actually follow all of those mundane steps. (I also suspect this is why I sucked at algebra) I will have every intention to record how much rain is in the rain gauge every day... but I wont actually get around to doing it. I will have every intention of filing away the proof of purchase of things I buy so I can collect a warranty if they fail, but I never get around to it. I have every intention of recording each expense and bill I accrue as I go through my business life, but there are always those few big ticket items that I miss because I lack the basic bone in my head that provides discipline.

And it is that discipline that separate the men from the boys. It is that attention to detail, taking that little bit of time to do what you know needs to be done that makes leaders not followers, that makes managers not workers, that makes success not failure.

I mention all of this to you because people keep asking me how I am doing with my Apple Cider Vinegar Pills. And the sad truth is, I keep forgetting to take them! I take the one in the morning, and then forget the other two. I have had many great suggestions. And I know I should follow through with them but....

Guest Post

2009-03-31T20:54:00.003-05:00

Good Evening.......

I am delighted you could join me as I try to do as much damage as possible on this blog. My name is Downadup Cornflicker and I am a worm. Yes that's right! I am THE worm you heard about. I sent out my minions to scurry ahead of me with the whisper campaign of fear. Clornflicker is coming! Cornflicker is coming! Cornflicker is coming on April Fool's Day to destroy all the computers!!

I am the fear you feel in the dark of night when you walk away from your darkened monitor. I will steal your connection to the world away from you, and you will never know it. I am like Ninja, only binary. I am like the raging grass fire that consumes the prairie and can not be stopped. I AM Cornflicker!!

I have destroyed over 3 million computers worldwide and I haven't even been released yet! Yes, I am THAT bad ass worm.

So scurry around like cockroaches and try to find protection and firewalls for your pathetic computing devices. A am the mighty worm that will eat through your best defenses! I am kryptonite to your OS, I am Kevin Fedderlane to your PC Brittany. I am the monster you fear to dream about, I am WORM!

You want to try to stop me? Do you? Well, do you punk? Ha! I spit in you general direction, and considering what real worms eat, that even grosses ME out! You can try this, or this or even that. It will not save you. I am as unstoppable as rap music and slutty chicks with Daddy issues.

Mark your calendar. Take note for this day in history is the day a Worm rules the word!

OH and I would like to thank Cris for allowing me this chance to guest post. I think Opprobrious rocks and Cris kicks ass, so this was like a dream come true. As for me, I hope to host Saturday Night Live in a week or so, during May Sweeps. Be sure to check me out, the show should be awesome! I understand we might even get U2 for the musical guest! I LOVE them! In fact, I can't recommend enough that you down load the latest album... if your computer still works! HAHAHAHAHAHA

Hereos

2009-03-30T23:16:00.003-05:00

OK so I am a nerd. Big news flash there, huh? So there I was watching Heroes on TV, and just before the line of thunderstorms swept in and knocked the signa... no actually it was the weatherman that came on and Stopped broadcasting the TV show so they could show off the new radar... anyway just before we missed the final 25 freakin minutes of Heroes, Peter's Mom told Peter, "Unconditional love isn't really love at all."

OK, that's it! I am now playing the bullshit card! That's right timid readers, I am slapping that bad boy down on the card table because I totally disagree with that statement. In fact, I would venture to say that anything LESS than unconditional love is not really love.

Do parents ONLY love the smart, good looking kids? Hell no! My Mom loves me and that'd all the freakin proof you need right there. Right Mom? ... Mom? Mom!

Oh well, she naps a lot lately, especially when I come to visit, so it is best to let her get her rest.

But the thing is, parents love their children whether they are class leaders or class losers. Does a husband stop loving his wife of 30 years because she has a stroke or an accident? Hell No! He stays by her and loves her and then slips off for meaningless sex in the parking lot of strip clubs. If he is lucky it will be with one of the female dancers.

Does a woman love her husband less when, after years of providing he grows older, harder of hearing and develops a "beer" gut? Well, yeah, that probably does happen. Which goes to prove my point. Women are evil.

Wait.. I mean, the only real love is unconditional love. So what if your spouse dumps you and leaves you in poverty while he or she is off screwing the brains out of some younger, hard bodied bimbo or himbo without you? You know they will eventually return to you because love will find a way. Lust led them away but it was true, unconditional love that led them back to you. And the fact that the himbo/bimbo spent all your life's savings and left them broke and in need a place to live is just a coincidence. Honest!

It's kind of like how you love Blogs. I mean if this blog really sucked, you would never even comment on it, right? And there's the thing. Comments in the comment section is like real, unconditional love.

:::::waiting::::::::::

::::::: Still Waiting:::::

Fuckers

Don't Blog About This, OK?

2009-03-29T22:40:00.002-05:00

OMG do people think I go through the day looking for mundane dribble to put on this blog each day? I can't even begin to ell you the number of people at work, friends and even at home that start to tell me things then stop and say, you wont put this on your blog will you?

First of all, I do not report boring shit on this blog. No, it is all totally made-up fiction that bores people on this blog! Most of the times, expect when I am sharing, like now.. except for the part where I said people that read my blog... because you KNOW that's fiction.

...ANYhoo... I want to assure you, the reader, I do not report on the daily lives of people in my life. Sure, I will tell a tale or two about family. Occasionally I share a story that involves a co-worker, but I am not telling you the soap opera, TV Tabloid version of people in my life.

I am telling you all of this so you will know with all certainty that if you choose to email me naked pictures of yourself I will not post them on my blog. Honest! I am not lying!

Unless of course, the story ends up effecting me.

Great White Hope

2009-03-28T21:21:00.005-05:00

So in Eastern Oklahoma we don't get much snow. Every few years we hear of big snowstorms out in the Western part of the state and there was one year where I actually lived through one or two of them. But now that I am over here on the Eastern side, snow is a mythical, fairy dust, like substance that you read about but never see.

With the greatest ever winter snow storm predicted to befall us, here in the early part of Spring, I said no snow would reach us. I woke this morning to the sound of rain and the news that out around Laverne, Oklahoma, where we used to live, there was 25 inches of snow. So much snow in fact that a nursing home, a school house and some other building had the roofs cave in from the weight of all the snow.

At my house there was nothing. I talked to my Dad, I talked to old friends and nothing came this way but rain. I heard it was in Oklahoma City, I heard it was just down the road in Creek County. Here there was nothing.

Then suddenly, in spite of all my grousing and denial it began to fall. Big wet flakes that stuck to the sides of poles. White fluffy snow blanketed my front yard in, as close to a white out, as this part of the country will ever see. Snow piled up on the cars and in the yard. The trees, in full bloom of spring bent heavy from the clinging wet flakes. It was magical and it was beautiful.

But since we were in a real snowstorm we did what people should do. We all teamed up and cleaned the house since all outside activities seemed to be off the table. Hours later, with a sparkling clean house, my Dad calls to tell me that out West, where he lives, the snow plows have the the snow tossed up along the highways as tall as his Chevy truck. So I stepped outside to join right in this friendly little pissing contest, only to see all of our snow had already melted!

See, told you we wouldn't get snow.

Sick Friends

2009-03-27T19:57:00.003-05:00

So as many of you know, our friend Adam is under the weather. Without telling too much of his business, I want to say I have been telling him for a long time that if he keeps sticking things up there, something is bound to get stuck. Anyhoo, I am not sure what all they ended up pulling out of there but I hear it was like one of those little clown cars you see at the circus.

Which leads me to the topic of tonight's discussion: No, not the black hole of Calcutta, I want to talk about health care in America. Did you know Dave2 nearly died? OK, maybe not died, but he had a lot of pain. He was flying half way across the world in some exotic land where his kidney stones flared up and he had to be taken to a hospital. Dave was treated, pain relived and taken back to the airport in time for his flight. That's health care man!

Where was this mysterious land that renders examination, testing, diagnosis and treatment... not to mention all the paperwork... and can get you back in time for a connecting flight?! A few years ago my daughter got Chicken Pox. We are first time parents. We read up on it and the family medical book said Chicken Pox could turn lethal and kill everybody in the Continental US, so out of concern for myself... and the world... We called the Dr.

The Dr said it sounded like Chicken Pox and she really needed to be examined before she died and spreads her disease and we should absolutely, most definitely NOT take her to the Dr's office but to the ER. Because she is contagious. Evidently ERs have a disease inhibitor that is not found anywhere else in the universe. SO we go to the ER where we are told we will see the doctor in the near future. In the mean time we need to find a place, away from the waiting room, to wait. They did not want to slackers in there with broken limbs and severed appendages to rick getting sick. SO we went to the next available place with seats. The empty cafeteria. Now I wonder, how long does a Chicken Pox germ live anyway?

There we waited for maybe three more house before we were paged that our table... I mean Doctor was ready to see us. The dude looked at her from across the room, glanced in her eyes and said, "Yup, that could be Chicken Pox alright! You should take her to her regular doctor." So four hours missing from our life, a sick kid and now missing $100 we experienced rural health care. Sounds like Dave2 got it better.

And Adam, Dude, once you can stop pooping in a bag and your new sphincter transplant has healed up, I am sure you too will look back in awe and admiration at the men and women who saved your life. ...even if you might never be able to look them in the eyes without total humiliation. Oh yeah, and as the stitches begin to heal, just remember what I told my little girl. DON'T SCRATCH!!

2009-03-26T21:53:00.000-05:00

Three Things

2009-03-25T22:11:00.003-05:00

First
Blogger says there is a scheduled outage for 3/25 at 4:00. Now I don't know if that is AM or PM or both because I don't know how long this freakin outage is going to last. It could be a few minutes, it could extend to the end of time. Chances are it will last somewhere between the two time references I mentioned, but it pays to be safe. That means you need to stock up on Opprobrious NOW!! Copy and paste your favorite blog posts so you can re-read them in the near future when Blogger will no longer be providing exemplary services to people too fucking cheap to pay for a real site.

Yes friends, just like when you get real lucky and know a scumbag artist is going to die BEFORE he kicks the bucket, you now have the chance to capitalize off of the probable demise of all things Opprobrious, at the scheduled outage of Blogger in less than six hours from now... or maybe 18.. whatever. The thing is NOW is the time! Order your T-Shirts, Buy the motivational Tapes, stock up on Tagamilf because the end is near... maybe.

Second
WTF is the deal with Will Smith?! AOL which is owned by Time-Warner, the world's greatest news source, ran a big story on how Will and Jada Pinkett dispelled rumors that Will was gay. OK, the guy has been married for years, has kids, and as far as I know NEVER had any rumors about him being gay. So how in the hell can a PR dude get that kind of press over dispelling a non-rumor. Is Will's career in the crapper following Hancock and I am Legend? I mean, yeah the movies SHOULD have been better but that wasn't his fault. The writing wasn't as good as it should have been and the directing was a bit weak. But Will Smith did an excel... Oh crap... does this mean I'm gay for Will Smith??

Third and final
Chalk it up as Psycho Dad. We have been having fun with our new phones that we got last week. So last night I went in the back part of the house and when I came back I had this evil impulse to freak out my 17 year old daughter. I snuck into the dining room, right behind the recliner she was sitting in while reading a book (the final Sookie Stackhouse Book in the series... yeah she's hooked) So in true horror movie style I whip out my Blackberry and text to my daughter, "I am standing right behind you!"

Then I waited on the other side of the wall, next to the door that was beside her chair. I was like a little kid, nearly overcome with giggles as I waited on her to timidly peer around the edge of her chair. ...and I waited... and I waited... and I started thinking, how freakin long does it take to receive a text message, when MY phone started vibrating.

I quickly opened it up and read, "I'm in bed, dumbass."

Grrrrr I had been stalking an empty recliner!

Matt

2009-03-24T22:36:00.003-05:00

My grandfather was always handicapped, as far as I knew. Actually I didn't know the term back then, I just knew he was in a wheelchair and his legs didn't work. I knew he had been in an airplane crash in Northern Nebraska while illegally shooting Coyotes from an airplane. That it was a necessary range practice to protect cattle herds was as accepted as the fact that flying around and shooting a gun at things was considered normal.

Because he was handicapped his old house had a wheelchair accessible ramp. His ramp was made of concrete. I distinctly remember his independence, as he wheeled himself to his car, got in and out and was able to drive without the use of his legs. We went on many adventures when I was a little kid, before he moved back to Nebraska. He died when I was 9 years old. My oldest cousin on that side of the family had just been born. I am not sure if they ever met, although I know my grandfather loved the baby as much as he loved us all. They just never had the time to play together that all grandparents need with grandkids.

So the little kid grew up in the house our Grandfather had owned in town. Man we loved watching him play with his wild abandon! One day we went over to the house to find him on his new Bigwheels Tricycle barreling down the handicap ramp wearing a fondue pot on his head as a crash helmet.

I know, I know, I always tell you these little tales and then end with the tragic thud. Well I don't want to break a formula that works so.... I understand that little kid turns uncomfortably close to 40 years old today. Happy Birthday Dude!

Phone Phucup

2009-03-23T18:44:00.003-05:00

So you know how I got that new Blackberry (they said it was a $500 phone)just so I could keep up with emails and work issues while performing new job duties on the road? Well today was my first day at work with the new machine.

So loaded up man! I took the hands free, a car charger and even a cute little clip on phone holster that will clip on my belt, since the Blackberry case provided has no freakin clip. I mean it dude, I had it all!

About half way to Stillwater, past the point of no return, I realized I had it all except for the actual freakin PHONE!!

Oh yeah. All day long I heard things like, "Well if YOU would have paid for ME to get the Blackberry we would have it right now... because I wouldn't forget it!" Or "You spent all that money and all weekend long learning how to use it.. then forgot it at home?!! LAME DUDE....LAME!"

SO I get home and see I had around 60 work related messages piled up in my text/email accounts. The good news... I am on the road again tomorrow!

God, PLEASE don't let me forget my phone a second day in a row. PLEASE??

MY Boy

2009-03-22T23:05:00.007-05:00

Years and years ago, in what seemed another lifetime, I had a little boy. He was sweet and sucked his thumb a lot. He went through a series of accidents where he kept breaking his wrist on one arm or the other or the other... ok he broke one of them more than once, and he broke a bone in his foot once.

He has always been his mother's child. A big Mama's boy. In fact, I used to growl at him in a deep manly voice, "What are you, some kinda MAMA's BOY?!!" And he would reply by hugging his mother close and defiantly saying "Yes I am!"

Now he is 14 years old. His voice has changed, he has hair growing all over him. He is the tallest person in our house. It is becoming harder and harder to recognize the little boy who would run so enthusiastically through the house wearing a bath towel around his neck as a cape... and often little else! One of my favorite pictures of him is curled up in his bed for an afternoon's nap. A prerequisite in our house for the under age 5 set. Only he was in bed with his best buddy of day, a big old Basset hound we had saved from the pound. The dog was bigger than he was, up in his bed crashed just as hard as an over active little boy. And there was Jr, dead to the world, a thumb in his mouth and his butt sticking up in the air.

So I look at the young man that is in my house today and I realize those days of sweet innocence are gone forever. Now our long talks about Spiderman and Harry Potter will be replaced by forced issue like safe sex, responsibility, how to respect a date, and cultivating the proper image. Everyday, my baby grows a little bit father away from me.

But today I found him asleep following church. In an unmade bed, surrounded by the hangers tossed out of the closet as we got ready for church. Curled up to his best buddy the cat. And for just a moment, right up until the flash of the camera woke him up, he was still my little boy. Then he got up, straightened his church shirt and said he would put the rented DVD in the player for me, since he knew I had trouble seeing the controls. "Besides," he reminded me, "it's due in the morning and we don't want late fees."

Epiphany Sunday

2009-03-22T14:17:00.004-05:00

OK I think I understand all the trouble Own Wilson went through here a few months ago. The kids rented the movie, The Wendel Baker Story, staring Own and Luke Wilson. Hell, I wanted to commit suicide less than half way through, and I know it took them weeks to film it. You know, considering this flick and Drillbit Taylor, it seems maybe... just MAYBE... they can't carry a movie on their own.

The daughter and I got back from church and decided to play with my camera while we were ll cleaned up. Turns out the memory card can only hold two pics. I think I need a bigger card.

I decided to pounge around the house this weekend. Recharge batteries, as we have had a lot of company and been working long hours. I realize that lounging puts more of a strain on my back. Holy Crap I hurt today!

That's about all the insight I can handle for one week.

Woke Up To The Sound of Thunder

2009-03-21T10:28:00.003-05:00

Ever hear that old song, Night Moves by Bob Seeger? "I woke up to the sound of thunder.." That line has a grew more and more significant to me as I grew older and gained experience. See, I am from a part of Oklahoma called "Green Country." That means we get ALOT of rain. We will get maybe 10 times as much rain as the farm country out West where they grow all the wheat.

With rain, comes thunder. "Sounds like the potato wagon is rolling over the bridge," my old neighbor used to say to me as we sat in his porch swing and sipped lemon aide. Yeah, I know that sounds corny and like a time from some by-gone era, but it was only the mid 70s! My parents were divorced, I was a latch key kid and my next door neighbor was a great guy. We would sit for hours everyday after school and sip cool drinks and talk about the events of the day for a little kid. It wasn't until I graduated from high school and saw him die a reclusive death, that I realized our times together probably meant as much or more to him than they did to me. I miss him as much as any family member I have ever lost.

So thunder is nearly a daily thing in Eastern Oklahoma. Not a big deal, til your trailer house blows away, right? Well that's what I thought up until I spent a few years farming out West. See I grew up along the edge of a flood plain. As a result there were a lot of snakes slithering around, but there were only a couple that were poisonous, Copperheads and Water Moccasins. But when I went out West to farm there were rattlesnakes!

The water snakes were not a problem since there is no water out there. The other snakes were serious, especially if you were hauling hay. Sweat pouring into your eyes, stumbling over high rough cut stubs in the field while trying to ignore the growing pain in your back. Then you grab a bale of hay to toss on the trailer and hope the biting end of a snake is not sticking out of the compressed bale. We had a hay field that was lousy with rattle snakes, I mean snakes of all sizes and they were aggressive.

Add to the fact my father in law was deathly afraid of snakes. He got to the point he took all of his aggressions out on snakes while driving. See, to him, the only good snake was a dead snake. So driving along the highway, dirt road, city street... whatever, he would see the shimmer of a snake crossing the road, swerve over to run it over then slam on his breaks.

As I peeled my face off the inside of the windshield and dabbed the scalding hot coffee off balls, he would look at me unconcerned and explain, "When you hit your breaks, it shreds them." And that was life around the farm for about 9 years. From Spring to frost you better wear a seat belt and you better have a lid on your drink because everything got run over and shredded. Snakes, litter, even tar filled road repairs.

Snakes because such a topic to think about and watch for along the road they were always in our minds. One day I had to go out into the snake filled hay field to repair a fence and I asked about the snakes. "Don't worry," my Father in Law advised. "Snakes wont wake up until it thunders. It's the thunder that wakes them."

SO I told you all of this to simply say, "I woke last night to the sound of thunder." Which means the snakes are now awake for the summer.

Blackberry Bonus (kind of)

2009-03-20T21:53:00.002-05:00

The camera works all too freakin well. That means I should have more pics that show my world.

RE: Blackberry

2009-03-20T21:32:00.002-05:00

OK so I called tech support and they did an excellent job of 'splaining to my dumb ass why I could not access the internet. I am pretty sure the store clerk was supposed to set that feature up as well as move over all my ringtones. She did not. She gave me a card with the number for tech support.

So here is the deal. I ALMOST got a Smartphone. No, not an I-Phone because I use US Cellular, due to personal and regional coverage reasons. I had a choice of two smart phones. I looked them over and took a consultant group with me that included my wife, son and two co-workers. The general consensus was I am not smart enough for a Smartphone, but one of the co-workers plans to upgrade to a Blackberry (From a MotoQ) and they can 'splain to me how to use it.

The big deal breaker on the pretty smart phone was the on screen keypad. I didn't like it. It took like 30 minutes to boot up and when I saw the two-letters per key design, I wanted the Blackberry Curve.

So I took the day off because I have been a bit blinky lately and need to burn some sick leave. I downloaded all my Scottish bagpipe ringtones off of Myxer and of course, nobody in the house can figure out how to load them.

We surf the net, check this blog, play on Facebook and check EMail just fine. It's the ringtones that make me feel like a loser. Oh, and I couldn't get Hulu to play Scrubs reruns. So I guess I had two failures. Other than that... it's a cool phone. I think I will enjoy everything but the bill.

Guess what I got!!

2009-03-19T22:51:00.002-05:00

I have a Five-Freakin-Hundred dollar phone and I have no freakin idea how to use it! After 3 hours of screwing around I am now on hold with Technical Services. Grrrrrr

...and I have a fan behind me

2009-03-18T21:57:00.006-05:00

So St Pat's has gone again. Maybe we should all be filled with the merriment of green beer and small chested Celtic women. But I can't help but feel bad. The thing is, I feel bad because I don't feel bad, and THAT'S what I wanted to talk about tonight.

Liam Neeson's wife, Natasha Richardson, died today following a horrific skiing accident. She was a well known product of a great acting family, had won a Tony Award and held the respect of her peers. One moment she was full of life and energy and within hours that life was snuffed out.

What bothers me about this is, I don't care. Now don't get me wrong, I am not being callous or disrespectful. In fact I am trying with all my might to be a better person, but that simply has to start with self awareness. When I was told of the tragic fate of Ms Richardson, I shrugged my shoulders and mumbled, "Never heard of her." Later I learned she was the wife of Liam Neeson and mother of his children and beloved by her family who are shocked and devastated because a vital part of their lives is now gone forever. And I shrugged the information off without a second thought. Did you? Did you feel the same initial reaction?

Here's the deal. I want to be a better person. I don't want to be a big sissy or get in touch with my girly side. But you know what? I have felt loss. I have suffered grief. There were good people who were there to help me. People who can always be counted upon. And I feel, I will never really be one of those people because when I hear about the Natasha Richardsons of the day, I shrug it off because I don't know them. But I know the pain of loss... so... WTF?!!

Here's the deal man, I think all reasonable, intelligent people are on Mazlow's journey to self actualization. I want to be the better person. I want to be one of the good guys. I want to be an apex human filled with humanity. I know the world is full of those who have no desire to do this (we call them Republicans) and I am actually sad for their self-imposed limits of personal growth. But it does not change the fact that I want to be as good a man as I can be, but I also don't really care that Natasha Richardson died in a terrible skiing accident, and it is because I am not yet one of the good guys. And reason demands that I have to acknowledge that I might never be one of the good guys. It doesn't change anything, the goal of life is to climb our own personal ladder to self actualization. It is not a competition, we will all have different levels. But still, we can take comfort in the fact we are better people than Republicans.

SO to Liam Neeson and the family of Natasha Richardson: I am so sorry for your loss. It's a damn tragedy for the entire family and I wish all of you well in these troubling times.

ON Another Topic:
We interviewed for a new employee today. This lady comes in and is telling us how she worked with the poor and how they are unwashed, but "her heart has no nose." She said she brings them into her office and she helps them get back on their feet and the love she feels for them means her great and loving heart can't smell the unwashed people in abject poverty. "...plus I have a fan behind me."

Now THAT was funny! I don't care who you are.

p.s. If you want to argue the issue about small chested Celtic women, you are going to have to PROVE IT!

Still Green

2009-03-17T21:41:00.002-05:00

OK I have been wondering today if I need a different group of friends. Here is it St. Patrick's day. The day of drunken revelry for all Celtic people and worked all day and talked work all night. I never had a green drink nor even corn beef and cabbage. There is just something wrong about that, when you consider how this holiday excites me every year... but we NEVER do anything.

My son was telling tales tonight. My visiting brother in law had the boy sharing stories and one was about one day when we were working in the yard. Jr claims I took a break, went over the porch where he had brought me an icy cold lemonade. He claims I looked at the glass full of yellow refreshment, so cold the glass was soaked in sweat, and then I looked at the dog happily thumping it's tail next to the glass. The boy swears I poured the drink out on the ground out of concern the dog might have marked it's territory on my glass and wizzed in the drink.

No I have no memory of that incident. So am I paranoid? Am I cautious? Do I have a son who tells a good story? Would YOU have drank from the glass?

My Irish (kinda)

2009-03-16T21:13:00.003-05:00

OK OK SO I looked all over to tell you how my family has a recorded decent from a Diarmid O'Duin. Diarmid was a character in Irish Mythology and while I have seen many tales of his adventures in reading about my family history... I failed to find you any for independent reading. So instead I give you...

Leprechaun
The LeprechaunThe name leprechaun may have derived from the Irish leath bhrogan (shoemaker), although its origins may lie in luacharma'n (Irish for pygmy). These apparently aged, diminutive men are frequently to be found in an intoxicated state, caused by home-brew poteen. However they never become so drunk that the hand which holds the hammer becomes unsteady and their shoemaker's work affected.

Leprechauns have also become self-appointed guardians of ancient treasure (left by the Danes when they marauded through Ireland), burying it in crocks or pots. This may be one reason why leprechauns tend to avoid contact with humans whom they regard as foolish, flighty (and greedy?) creatures. If caught by a mortal, he will promise great wealth if allowed to go free. He carries two leather pouches. In one there is a silver shilling, a magical coin that returns to the purse each time it is paid out. In the other he carries a gold coin which he uses to try and bribe his way out of difficult situations. This coin usually turns to leaves or ashes once the leprechaun has parted with it.However, you must never take your eye off him, for he can vanish in an instant.

The leprechaun 'family' appears split into two distinct groups - leprechaun and cluricaun. Cluricauns may steal or borrow almost anything, creating mayhem in houses during the hours of darkness, raiding wine cellars and larders. They will also harness sheep, goats, dogs and even domestic fowl and ride them throughout the country at night. Shoe Repairs Although the leprechaun has been described as Ireland's national fairy, this name was originally only used in the north Leinster area. Variants include lurachmain, lurican, lurgadhan.

Opprobrious Sponsor

2009-03-15T21:59:00.001-05:00

Anti-People Magazine

2009-03-14T11:10:00.007-05:00

OK we used to get People Magazine. You could read about pretty people living exotic lives on a level that was never realistic but fueled your fantasy life of one day making it big time like Elmer Fudd. Who, as we all know, owns a mansion and a yacht.

But People magazine has turned into a weekly publication that has two topics. American Idol (which I don't watch) and dieters. My first response at this realization is, "Why the FUCK am I paying for this crap when I don't want to know about either one of those subjects?!!" My next thought was not admiration for people who torture themselves to loose weight for public attention, but the fact that statistically, they are almost certain to gain it all back in 2 - 5 years because 95% of all diet and exercise plans fail. The Mag now seems to feature people, who might as well be cartoons, because of they are not famous and have a great rack I am NOT going to remember their names. And then it shows their struggle with weight and how they are trying to lose, then a year or so later they will show how they gained it all back or died. Holy Crap that is depressing and I do NOT want to have to see that every week!

But then I got to thinking. Hey! I'm a big time publisher with a monster blog that has hundreds of readers, if you keep counting the same two over and over for a really long time. I could create my own feature of people, who are really no more than cartoons, that overcome real health weight issues for the better... I could even make it a charity! Cris's Kids!

So I would like to tell you about my little friend Nyondo. See NY (as I have come to call him) was a poor product of ethnic cleansing in the Tanzania war zones. Pushed from refugee camp to refugee camp little Nyondo grew more and more frail. Finally when our Cris's Kids Rescue Team found him he was literally stick thin. For only a few dollars a day we were able to provide Nyondo with the basics grains and dairy product to sustain life via a few Hot pockets. It is because of people that care, like you, that children like Nyondo and all other Tanzanian War refugees mights have hope of a future.

Please Help us help Nyondo and thousands of other starving little kids just like him with your Email pledge of $50, $200 or $30 Billion dollars a week. With your great heart and generous spirit you may be able to claim in a few years that American Job Outsourcing to Tanzania sweat shops might never have been possible if you hadn't stepped in to save a little boy like Nyondo.

Doctor Visit

2009-03-14T10:32:00.004-05:00

"You gotta be fucking with me!" my co-worker screamed at me over the cell phone as I pulled onto the highway. I had called her as I was leaving my last Doctor's appointment. "He told you that you need to lose weight and all he gave you was an ad from a magazine...?"

OK I have been taking a lot of heat about my choice in Doctors lately. I go to a guy in his 80s. He is a member of our church and he calls every one of his patients and discusses their lab work with them on a personal level. He will answer all questions and work with you on a health plan. Plus, he is not the kind of guy who thinks he knows everything. I have heard him on phone consultations, and I have discussed medically scoffed at theories and found he does not prejudge any topic.

So when I told my co-worker I was just leaving my appointment and I had a photo copy of an advertisement from Country Magazine, this product of a family of nurses went a bit ballistic. "It wasn't even a fucking medical magazine..? Not even about health?!"

With this kind of support for the medical decisions in my life I thought I would discuss the matter with my family. Turned out nobody in my house cared enough to listen. Luckily my Dad calls several times a week. So I told him the tale and how I was told I should try "Apple Cider Vinegar" pills.

Now Dad is an old farm and ranch guy. But he deals with a lot of vet medicines and without a formal education he has a much greater understanding of life sciences than I will ever possess. He has doctored thousands of sick cattle back to health, and the few hundred that didn't survive were just carted off to the nearest wash-out for the coyotes to eat. What I am saying here is, I think I was good hands when discussing my medical future with my Dad.

AT first he was not too thrilled about the old Doc's recommendation. And being a solid businessman I was shocked Dad never picked up on the fact that my Insurance will not cover vinegar. But then Dad surprised me!

"Whoa there... You know, now that I get to thinking about it, I think it might be a good idea. Folks have always known Vinegar helps you lose weight. Why even back when I was a little kid, I used to try to drink the pickle juice out of pickle jars, because I loved the taste. And my Grandmother would say, 'Don't drink that pickle juice, it makes you Poor!'"

Dad went on the explain that back then, before the advent of indoor plumbing and when you had to walk 12 miles a day to milk the cow 6 times a day before sunrise everyday of you life, even in snow and you don't know what it is like to suffer... Anyway, he went on the explain that being "poor" meant thin and frail. "And really pickle juice is about the same things as vinegar, so I think it is worth a shot. ...and if it doesn't work I can always hook you onto the tractor and haul your fat ass off to the wash-out."

And THAT'S why I am now trying this product. I might be crazy, but after a few days I really do have a lot less appetite.

Miss Britt Sexathon

2009-03-13T22:15:00.003-05:00

OK there is this blogger chick who has opened up her own little sex toy blog store. I checked it out thinking there might be one of those demo videos. No such luck, but fortunately YOUPORN.COM fills that gaping void quite nicely.

It is my hope if you check her out I might win my very own pocket rocket. That's sounds like just what I need. Something that will help me get off faster. Mrs. Cris will be soooooo impressed.

WTF?!!

2009-03-13T22:05:00.002-05:00

Thump:::::: Thump::::::: THUMP!

THUMP::: THUMP:::::THUMP!!!

Hello........ Is this thing on?

Time to Take a Stand!

2009-03-12T21:44:00.003-05:00

There comes a time when all of us has to take a stand. We know we can't allow the present course of events to continue without standing up and saying "this is not right!" We are now at one of these times and you, the American public finally have the rally point upon which you can focus your outrage and disgust at the corporate market world that values profit above all else. It is time to make that stand!

You must Choose:

OR

Which do YOU think is the right body image for Dora the Explorer in future cartoons? The creators are thinking about giving the pre-school favorite a teen aged body that could cause years of internal conflict for the millions of little 3 and 4 year old girls who feel like less of a little woman for not having the stipper chick figure of the proposed new Dora.

Now be brave and make your stand!

A Message From Corporate

2009-03-11T22:52:00.003-05:00

As many of you may recall, the Opprobrious Blog and staff was taken over recently in a hostile takeover by the Syntelligent Corporation. All employees, thoughts, ideas, doodles and conversation associated with this blog, even by you the reader, now belong to us. This is no different from what used to happen in your mundane world before the awesome poser of our Syntelligent marketing concepts.

Now you have at your disposal an all power corporation, controlled by the wealthiest men in the world who don't want to be bothered with ever knowing your name. The end result is; If you have an idea while reading Opprobrious or one of the other millions of Syntelligent holdings, you are required by international law to respond in the comments section of this (or other other Syntelligent holdings) blog. Those ideas then become the intellectual property of Syntelligent so that we and we alone might profit.

Failure to report personal thoughts, ideas and observations on the comments section of this (or other Syntelligent properties) blog will result in an invisible black mark on the cookie of your computer. After a predetermined number of black marks have been recorded on your computer cookies, due to your failure to respect the intellectual properties of the Syntelligent Corporation, a black ops team will be dispatched to your residence as determined by an ISP ping. The Ping will also be unknown to you. The black Ops team that will be dispatched to your house will be instructed to kill your favorite pet.

While this policy may seem cruel, please remember you forced the issue by failing, time after time, to comment once you had a thought stimulated by a Syntelligent Corporate holding. And we did give you several chances (black marks) on your cookie before pinging your computer and dispatching a black ops team to kill your favorite pet. That's because Syntelligent values you, the customer. Almost as much as you love your pet.

Passages

2009-03-10T21:50:00.004-05:00

So I went to the funeral today. I hate funerals. But this one was probably what a funeral should be, allowing people to share memories of the person they loved. They played a few country western songs and read a passage from the bible and then asked the crowd of people in the room to share stories of person they were there to honor.

Now this is a country where men don't cry, so you wont get many public speakers. A couple of women said pleasant things and one guy tried to tell a story of how one of the boys hooked grandpa with a lure while out fishing one day. Then there was silence. So I stood up and shared part of the story I had been thinking for days, and in fact have thought of many times in my life.

Mike and I were maybe 11 years old. We slept out in the garage because his parents politely banned us from the house. Not only were we overly impressed with all types of flatulant jokes, there MIGHT have been a long night of me asking Mike questions like, "Pssssst! Psssst! MIKEEEE!"

"What?" he would ask from the twin bed on the other side of the dark bedroom we were sharing.

"Wanna play Army? I'll act like a tank and you can come along and BLOW ME! HAHAHAHAHA"

Did I mention we were 11? In fact at this time we were probably more like 9. My maniacal laughter would be interrupted by Mike's Dad's patient voice saying, "Boys... You need to settle down in there. We got to get some sleep."

Maybe 5 minutes later I would start again, "Pssssst! Psssst! Mike!"

He would be laughing because it was just too obvious. "What?"

"You want to play Navy?"

Later, I was reminded I had eventually included all branches of the armed services and tried more than a few vocations. All followed by Mike's Dad telling us to settle down. In the dark, in an unfamiliar house, the parental bedroom seemed like it had to be in another world. In the light of the next morning, Mike showed me it was more like 5 feet away. I don't believe we ever spent another night under the roof of the house.

Which is why, a few years later, we were much older but still banished to the non attached garage. Mike pointed to the refrigerator and told me his Dad had a 5th of Cherry Vodka in a plain brown paper sack. So we checked it out, and thoughts of awe turned to dares of courage to the point we each pretty much shamed the other to try a drink. When we realized it didn't kill us we tried another and another. Sometime, maybe 3:00am or so, one of us thought about checking to see if we had drank a noticeable amount. So we rolled the paper sack down a little, then further and further and with each inch our hearts started trying to jump out of our throats. Finally we yanked the sack off the bottle to see it was nearly empty!

There was no way to hide this! We had gotten into something we never should have and we STAYed there! We were so going to get killed! I don't know if I have ever been as afraid as I was that night. Finally we did the only adult thing we could think of, we put it back in the brown paper sack and back into the refrigerator and tried to act like it never happened.

Two days later I got a call from Mike. "He knows!" SO I waited for calls to my parents and the end of the world, which never happened. Life seemed to continue as normal so I never expected the question Mike's Dad tossed out one afternoon while we were goofing around in the yard. "Cris...?" He asked as he looked speculatively over the tops of his glasses. "Was that you and Mike that got into my Cherry Cough medicine?"

I know it sounds lame to see that written out here on a blog post. But I can't tell you the number of times I have re-heard that question in my mind. It ALWAYS sends cold fear shivers down my spine. I hung my head and 'fessed up. And instead of a beating, a lecture or another banishment, he just chuckled and told me he was going to have to start marking his bottle thereafter.

For years following that event, Mike said his dad would from time to time take a drink from his old "Cherry Cough Medicine" and start to put it back in the fridge, then stop, look at Mike suspiciously and pull out a marker and mark the level of what was left on the glass bottle. But he never mentioned the incident again.

God we are going to miss him.

My Secret Identity

2009-03-09T23:31:00.003-05:00

So at night, under the cover of darkness when all the innocents are safe asleep in their beds, I cast off this fat boy persona so craftily cultivated to fool the masses. Like a lithe dancer I move on nimble feet at the speed of light. I jump twice my height, and have the power of a God.

Later, when I crawl into bed at night knowing all the women at my club desire me, and all the men wish they were me. I walk among them as a man among children, knowing none of them pose a real threat and they only exist for my amusement. Ha! And my father said I would never get anywhere in life if all I did was sit around and play with myself!

I turned Pro this weekend. I would boast even more but I still need the 14 year old to tell me how to turn on the machine.

Wii ROCKS!