tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11838320430175043922024-03-13T16:07:42.339-04:00Man Cave MusingsLooking at life through the odd mix of optimism, sarcasm, love and humor and not always in that order.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.comBlogger167125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-49313393610224435042019-03-19T23:03:00.001-04:002019-03-19T23:03:54.125-04:00I've never been asked to leave a gym before....... I've never been asked to leave a gym before but after the events tonight I suspect that may change. Every word of this tale is true and will probably end up on YouTube one day. Hopefully not.<br />
Recently I have switched to doing a fair amount of opening shifts which require me to get up at 4 a.m. Considering I don't go to bed until 1 or 2 in the morning, it's made for some short nights which have had an interesting and unwanted side effect. Typically after my shift is over I swing by the gym for a quick 45 minute workout and then head to the sauna for another half hour before going home. And this is where the problem started. For whatever reason I fall asleep in the sauna right after working out. That would be bad enough but it isn't a deep sleep as much as it is sleep-sweating.<br />
Last week after a workout I drifted off and was awaken by my phone bouncing off my foot. The other men in the sauna were glancing at me the way people glance at a homeless sidewalk preacher. Part out of interest, part out of fear he might be crazy. I chalked it up to being over-tired until over the weekend I managed to slump forward and bang my head on the railing so violently it knocked my headphones off. The people in the sauna with me that day weren't even trying to hide their concern. And their concern had nothing to do with the growing knot on my head. When people get up and leave the sauna shortly after arriving and all at the same time you realize you're scaring them.<br />
Now that you have the background let me tell you about tonight's brush with narcolepsy. Once again, after opening and working a demanding physical shift I stopped at the gym on the way home. 45 minutes later I was perched on the bench of the sauna with a staunch determination not to fall asleep. It couldn't have been 10 minutes when my head started slumping forward and my mind started detaching from it's current reality. Fortunately a large man sat on the bench which caused me to not fall asleep. But it was only a temporary reprieve because my head dipped again and I was at work in the office on the computer when one of my servers told me I had a phone call. So I turned to my left and said in a loud voice, "Who is it". To say the stranger seated to my left in the sauna was surprised would be a gross understatement. I'm just glad he didn't hit me. After I realized I yelled at a volume that was way above normal (headphones and loud music will raise your voice every time) it was time to apologize but I couldn't. He was out the door before I even opened my mouth to say I was sorry.<br />
Because the sauna was now empty again and I wasn't ready to leave, I switched songs and tried not to think about how freaked out that guy must have been. While I was mulling that over the familiar tilt of the head was occurring once again. The scene from earlier repeated itself as a man sat down heavily next to me, momentarily prolonging the inevitable involuntary nap. Apparently he hadn't run into the guy who was yelled at or he would have sat somewhere else. No matter because I wasn't going to fall asleep again except that I did. And oddly enough I didn't go very far into sleep because I started thinking about what had just happened. And then I was sitting with my wife Scarlett telling her about yelling at a random guy and she was laughing really hard. I love hearing her laugh so I had a big, goofy smile on my face when I turned to look at her. Except it wasn't her but the newest victim who sat next to me. When I noticed it wasn't my wife the smile changed instantly to a frown, no a scowl. A menacing, pissed off scowl. This poor chap couldn't have mover faster if he was on fire.<br />
Perhaps nobody bothered to tell the front desk at the health club that there is a complete whack job scaring people in the locker. Maybe they won't tell anybody else but that's not the way to bet it. I think the next time I hit the sauna there will be an armed guard inside. Or all the members will line up outside the plexi-glass windows to watch the show. Either way, my time may be over at the gym.<br />
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Till next........<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-57851778793577570452018-03-01T07:47:00.001-05:002018-03-01T07:47:36.289-05:00Man Cave Musings: The struggle to keep up......<a href="http://mancavemusings.blogspot.com/2018/03/the-struggle-to-keep-up.html?spref=bl">Man Cave Musings: The struggle to keep up......</a>: With all the new advances in technology the struggle to keep up can be somewhat exhausting. Between updating your status on Facebook, addi...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-87750762790789670322018-03-01T07:43:00.002-05:002018-03-01T07:43:40.752-05:00The struggle to keep up...... With all the new advances in technology the struggle to keep up can be somewhat exhausting. Between updating your status on Facebook, adding photos on Instagram and doing whatever the hell it is you do on Snapchat the world of social media is a very busy place. But it's not social media that keeps me one step away from full blown sleep deprivation, it's the easy access of information always at my fingertips. When my brain says "squirrel" I can instantly look up the average weight, height and life expectancy of the American breed. Are they different in China? Not sure, better find that answer. This is not to say that I'm savvy with the internet. I once opened up a Google to search for Google. (True story). Nor am I innately in tune with the current pop culture. Last month I came home raving about this cool new song I heard at work. It was called "I can't drink you away". After some extensive research I found out it was only five years old. I say only because last year I stumbled on to this great new song call "Drops of Jupiter". That one was over a decade old. Yep, I'm hip.<br />
Given the fact that I've spent most of my life with what is clinically described as chronic insomnia the internet has made what was left of my sleep pattern look like a Gitmo detainee. I fall asleep to blaring rock music only to be jolted awake an hour later to the screeching sounds outside my window. I hate morning birds but that is a subject of a different rant. There have been many mornings where my wife comes down the stairs to find me banging away at the computer keys like one of those monkeys that you wind up and they bang to cymbals together. All this for the never ending quest for the most useless knowledge on the planet. I've amassed so much minutiae that I can literally bore myself during conversations. I find myself starting to explain something critical like the flattening of the yield curve or the ten year high in lumber commodities and I have to stop myself. Not even I give a shit about what I'm talking about, why would anyone else.<br />
But this constant journey to become Alex Trebek (who is from Canada, stop it, just stop it) can be fraught with peril. During one period I had terms in my search history which included, 'best terrorists' is uranium located near copper' 'shipping patterns from the Middle East to Lake Superior'. I'm pretty sure the surveillance drones fly by the house on a regular basis these days. My son Zachary learned the dangers when he was searching for background sound on one of his songs and he Googled bedroom sounds. That will help you grow up fast. My money says he heard noises I didn't cover in that birds and bees speech I mumbled my way through a few years ago.<br />
The gold medal winner for bad searches to try and fill in the gaps of knowledge still belongs to me. We were talking about card games we used to play and I mentioned I played a lot of cribbage as a kid. I was trying to explain the game to some novices who had never heard of it. I explained how you play on a board, with a deck of cards and so on. You moved up and down the board by moving your peg. I was trying to explain it further and couldn't remember the exact details. So I turned to my trusted midnight friend, Google. If I had thought about it for one minute longer I would have typed in 'Rules for Cribbage'. Sadly I did not. I typed in 'Pegging' which is how you keep score in cribbage. Urban Dictionary had an answer. I wish I hadn't clicked on it. For all of you who are now searching 'pegging' I sincerely apologize. An innocent mistake led to a loss of whatever crumb of innocence I had left. I think I'm going to go back to looking things up in the Encyclopedia Britannica. Do they still make those? Hang on, I'll check.<br />
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Till next.......<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-42656733384874735432017-08-09T12:37:00.001-04:002017-08-09T12:37:28.801-04:00Man Cave Musings: Sam Walton once said to celebrate your successes a...<a href="http://mancavemusings.blogspot.com/2017/08/sam-walton-once-said-to-celebrate-your.html?spref=bl">Man Cave Musings: Sam Walton once said to celebrate your successes a...</a>: this is a story of an epic failure which if it occurred today I am reasonably certain there would be jail time. The fact that nobody went...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-32272481551823433502017-08-09T12:31:00.000-04:002017-08-09T12:31:20.234-04:00Sam Walton once said to celebrate your successes and find humor in your failures. Well, this is a story of an epic failure which if it occurred today I am reasonably certain there would be jail time. The fact that nobody went to jail is the success I celebrate in the spirit of Sam Walton. The failure part of this tale of woe is that responsible human beings should be in more control of their faculties and motor skills but as any regular reader of this blog knows that was not always the case with me. When I was a younger man I liked to have an occasional drink. But I always knew my limits unfortunately I passed out before I ever reached them. Hopefully this context frames the story better.<br />
My roommate and I (who will go by the name of Julio for this story) drove from Dallas to the old Arlington Stadium some 30 miles away to take in the Texas Rangers and New York Yankees baseball game in the summer of 1981. We were well stocked with plenty of ice cold King of Beers and may have been leading the early push for recreational use of cannabis on the drive to the game. Once we arrived and took our seats we kept the beer vendor busier than a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest. I'm pretty sure this poor guy should have received hazard pay for the amount of running we put him through. The game was entertaining but the real show started on the ride home.<br />
Shortly after leaving the very busy parking lot we were driving down the access road next to the freeway we need to get on when the car started the familiar shaking of a blown tire. Julio was doing an expert job of driving (we had only gone a mile). He eased off to the grass and engaged the emergency lights so we didn't get hit. I told him not to worry, I have changed quite a few flat tires in my day. Before I could even undo my seat belt the twinkling blue lights of the police car came up behind us. I'm sure they were there to protect me from getting turned into a speed bump. With a friendly wave to the officers in their car I opened the trunk and removed the jack. Actually it took me a while to line up the key in the lock after I had dropped them twice on the way to the trunk. I'm pretty sure the police were now watching for entertainment value. The show was under way.<br />
After deftly placing the jack underneath the frame I proceeded to raise the car so I could remove the tire. Then the car fell off the jack kicking the plate out from under the jack. After one or two minutes of staggering aimlessly I located the base of the jack and started the process over again. Luckily I learned quickly from my previous effort and got the car high enough to remove the tire. Working with a type of precision normally seen by blacksmiths I put the little donut tire on and screwed the lug nuts down tight. Once I lowered the car back to level ground I headed back to the passenger seat with a friendly wave to the boys in blue and buckled myself in.<br />
Julio put the car in drive and hit the gas. The car made the sound of a herd of cats in heat but did not move. I unfastened the seat belt again and jumped out to see what the problem was. While I was standing next to the car with a most drunken befuddled look a voice came from the loudspeaker on the cruiser behind us, "the tire is on backward". Shit! He was spot on. With another friendly wave of thanks to my serve and protect brethren behind me I retrieved the keys from Julio and began the process anew. Apparently the officers had seen enough to want to have a word with me. The officer asked if the driver had been drinking as well. I smiled and asked what made him think I was drinking. He laughed and said he was a highly trained officer and even if he wasn't his 6 year old daughter could tell I was drunk. My assurances that I was the one who had done the heavy drinking was the reason my very sober roommate was driving sounded good. He didn't seem convinced but did let me know they were going to hang around until we got back on the road. How fortunate for us.<br />
Once I returned the jack to the trunk I hurried back into the car and told Julio we were good to go. The lack of response didn't register until I heard the snoring. Loud, deep snoring the likes of which can only be produced by someone who has passed smooth out. I tried discreetly hitting him, kicking him and yelling at him to no avail. He was done partying for the night and apparently done being awake as well. So I exited the car and leaned in and grabbed him by the arms has best I could. Dragging him across the passenger seat and half way out of the car I sat him in my former seat and buckled him up. I'm pretty sure he looked dead when I had him dangling out of the car. Apparently the cops didn't think so but maybe because they were laughing too hard to notice.<br />
When I headed around the car to drive, the voice of reason from the car behind us summoned me over for a little chat. They presented me with an interesting option. I could drive the car and go to jail or we could sit in the car and wait for three hours then drive home without any further complications.<br />
Even in my diminished mental capacity I realized a good deal when I heard it. Three hours later we drove home under the watchful eye of a police cruiser until we crossed the Tarrant County line. I was appreciative enough to give a salute to the car behind us. As you can tell it was easy to find humor in this failure. To this day I do not know why we were shown the kindness we were. Maybe it was the lack of an accident, different times back then, didn't want the extra paperwork that close to shift change or another reason that caused them to not arrest us. Whatever it was I am thankful for it.<br />
Some of the details and names were left out of the story to protect the innocent. My innocence lost its protection years ago.<br />
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Till next......Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-77295895085587571522017-08-04T04:28:00.001-04:002017-08-04T04:28:19.515-04:00Man Cave Musings: I wonder why some people feel the need to be a ......<a href="http://mancavemusings.blogspot.com/2017/08/i-wonder-why-some-people-feel-need-to-be.html?spref=bl">Man Cave Musings: I wonder why some people feel the need to be a ......</a>: pace car driving down the road. It makes perfect sense why a Nascar race would have one to ensure a fair start for everyone. For that matt...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-85857686410900983982017-08-04T04:26:00.001-04:002017-08-04T04:26:48.404-04:00I wonder why some people feel the need to be a ......... pace car driving down the road. It makes perfect sense why a Nascar race would have one to ensure a fair start for everyone. For that matter I don't even have a problem with parades using a car or the dude with the furry shaped cone on his head carrying a baton to keep everyone in line. Although the thought of a rampant woodwind section of a marching band running unchecked down main street isn't really that frightening I get the premise. But why do some people take the role of pace car on a two lane road, driving 10 miles below the speed limit? I can just imagine the conversation when Pa Featherfoot arrives home and his wife asks how traffic was. "Great. I didn't see a car in front of me all day." That's because we were all stuck behind your rickshaw paced ass cursing with words usually reserved for a stubbed toe, missed extra point or a spilled beer. Despite my frustration with the habitually slow driver there is a worse pace car offender and everyone has dealt with him or her.<br />
You're cruising along at a nice rate of speed and all of sudden a car swerves from the right lane into the left lane at exactly the speed limit. He has no intention of going any faster than he currently is, his main objective is to make sure you don't either. The self-appointed pace car of consciousness. If he isn't willing to push the boundaries than no one else around him will either. Never mind the fact that you are just doing what you want to, in his mind it isn't fair or right that you would be so brazen to pass him by. Even though you've never met Mr. Sanctimonious personally he knows your type all too well. Oh yes, he has slowed down plenty of people who don't do what they're supposed to, who don't fall inline and act like the rest of us. The big problem is there are pace cars everywhere in life.<br />
More often than not the pace cars in your life are actually people who care about you. With the best of intentions your parents will tell you to "have a back up plan" in case your dreams don't work out. (I've said that to my kids and it was stupid) Parents always have the best interest of their children at heart they just don't realize how deeply their words can wound the very people they are trying to protect. I know some will say that's just guiding the kids but is it really? It sends the unspoken message that I don't really think you can succeed so be careful. And it's not just kids who have to try and get around the pace cars of life. There are plenty of them when you become an adult too.<br />
Have you ever had a co-worker or boss tell you to slow down? I have on more than one occasion. "You shouldn't be helping them so much because they will get the wrong impression" or "It makes us look bad when you work that hard" are two of the more egregious examples I can cite off the top of my head. You see, the pace cars have to keep everyone at the same speed or there will be judgements made. Just stay in your lane and we'll all get there at the same time is their way of thinking. Well that strikes me as a steaming pile of cow dung. If you want to work harder, show up earlier and stay later to advance than go ahead and do it. After all it's your race to run as much as anybody else's. If you want to continue learning and expand the knowledge in your field don't let anyone stop you. The reason pace cars go slower is because they, for whatever reason, have determined that going any faster or further is either dangerous or just not worth the effort. They have every right to decide that but the old adage of lead, follow or get the hell out of the way still applies.<br />
I have saved the most difficult pace cars for last. Because kids have a built in need to ignore parental advice and a lot of people have a healthy skepticism of authority anyway those pace cars can be easily navigated around compared to the last group. What do you do if the people telling you to slow down are your dear friends, spouse or siblings? Surely they wouldn't try and slow you down. Sadly the answer is yes they will. I'm not saying it's malicious in intent, in fact it's usually the opposite. With the best of reasons they might warn you about trying a new career or business, all the risks involved and the potential downfalls. They mean well but it could be because they are to scared to try something different. Or they are worried that you don't have what it takes to succeed but care for you too much to come out and say it. It might even be that subconsciously they wish they could do it but know they won't. People much smarter than me have spent years trying to figure out why people feel the need to hold someone back that they care about. I don't know the answer nor do I care.<br />
One thing I am quite certain of is that there are way more pace cars out there than we need. So if you come up on a pace car in life try and quickly flash your high beams and hope they let you by. If that doesn't work tailgate them so close they can't see the hood of your car and honk your horn. If all else fails pull off the road and take a different route because you are the only one driving your life.<br />
And if you happen to be a pace car, especially the one that swerves into the left lane for no reason, please run for Congress. At least you'll spend less time on the road screwing things up for the rest of us and you will be surrounded by other people who are content going slow and doing little.<br />
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Till next.......<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-51201583280411692492017-07-31T15:34:00.001-04:002017-07-31T15:34:02.956-04:00Man Cave Musings: 5 things that have become more important as I've g...<a href="http://mancavemusings.blogspot.com/2017/07/5-things-that-have-become-more.html?spref=bl">Man Cave Musings: 5 things that have become more important as I've g...</a>: With age comes wisdom is an old axiom that I think is grounded more in hope than actual fact but it is undeniable that certain things do ...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-62356084968027549422017-07-31T15:24:00.000-04:002017-07-31T15:24:05.228-04:005 things that have become more important as I've grown older..... With age comes wisdom is an old axiom that I think is grounded more in hope than actual fact but it is undeniable that certain things do take on greater importance as I march toward 4 pm dinners, inadvertent naps and yelling at kids to get off my lawn. I'm not going to run down the list of small things that just happen while moving closer to social security like carrying at least five dollars in change at all times. Apparently the need to have exact change anytime I buy something is a thing. Maybe its to keep my pants from creeping up to my armpits like every overweight gym teacher in America, I'm not sure how that works. But back to the list of the 5 things that are more important now more than they ever were when I was a young man.<br />
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5. Advice- Did you ever stop to think before you gave advice to anybody when you were in your 20's? I sure as hell didn't. I've found out that it doesn't matter if I'm giving or getting advice I think a lot longer before engaging in it than I ever did when I was younger. Looking back brought me to the conclusion that I got and gave a lot of bad advice over the years. If I would have thought and asked myself if what I was about to say or hear would add value to the person I was speaking with less would have been given or taken. Plus, giving advice on everything does make you sound like a blow-hard ass because sometimes people don't want advice, they just want to vent (bitch or complain). When advice is given today it comes with thought and deliberation. The same goes for getting advice, I always filter it the same way, did the person think about me before giving it.<br />
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4. Learning- You can't teach an old dog new tricks. We aren't dogs though, we're people. I would be happy if I could teach my ten year old dog to quit farting in the living room and bedroom. As people we never lose the ability to keep learning. When we are young it is easier because we don't know anything to start with. To reference my previous point, if someone gives you advice that you can't learn anymore you can dismiss it immediately. When you get older you get to choose what you learn. It does make sense that if you get to choose what to learn you will learn it faster because you enjoy it. Personally I don't give a shit about an Isosceles Triangle or the capital of Indonesia but I still had to learn it. These days the things I choose to learn are interesting to me so I learn them faster. The more new things I try to learn the better I feel mentally. What good is growing old if all you know is what you learned when you were younger? If you want to feel younger keep learning.<br />
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3. Exercise- Wait. What? Exercise is more important than it was when I was younger? Absolutely! I don't do things I used to like run half-marathons or 100 mile bike rides anymore. But I do place a great importance on doing some sort of physical exercise three or four times a week, not because I'm trying to impress anybody or win any titles for my age group but because it makes me feel better. If you are lucky enough to be able to do physical exercise than try and take advantage of your good fortune. I have no scientific evidence to back this up but my theory has always been that exercise helps keep the mind young. I promise that even if I go to the gym every day from now till the day I die I will not head to the beach in a Speedo.<br />
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2. Forgiveness- Holding a grudge is like taking poison and then waiting for the other person to die. Back when rock and roll bands were great and I didn't have a bald spot I could stay pissed off at someone who had wronged me for years. I suspect I'm not the only person who would spend time thinking about exactly what I would say to somebody who had offended me. Anybody else build elaborate fake confrontations that never occurred or wasted a couple of hours thinking about how things would be different if that S.O.B. hadn't done this or that? And then you come to find out the other person hasn't thought about it once. I know most people think forgiveness is some sort of an act of kindness but I view it differently. It is essential for my piece of mind to forgive quickly and move on. That doesn't mean I will put myself in the same position again but holding a grudge hurts more than just letting it go and moving on. I wish I had this knowledge when I was younger.<br />
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1. Time- There is no question that if you have less of something it might become more important to you in theory. If you've ever been poor and down to your last sandwich till payday you know how slow you will eat it. You will savor every last bite, chewing slowly, drinking between bites and stretch that humble PB&J into a four course meal. It's a little different with me and time right now. There is more of a sense of urgency to get things done quickly and move on to the next challenge. I try and live in each moment more than I ever did when I was younger. If I choose to do or not do something the decision is largely based on the value of my time. Is it worth my time to do it? If the answer is yes I can assure you I try and enjoy every moment of whatever it may be. It is a shame that it takes getting older to realize that the good ole days are every day you're alive.<br />
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There are some things not on the list like love, family, empathy and of course sarcasm and humor because they have always been important. I also realize I gave advice in the blog but I did follow my own advice and actually thought about it first.<br />
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Till next.....Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-43339319392438540462017-06-28T12:36:00.000-04:002017-06-28T12:36:43.402-04:00I've spent the last week listening to things that make me wonder.....if I'm just getting old or the world of music has just progressed right past me. My 17 year old son Zachary is trying his best to enlighten me with some of the new stuff that is being played and what influences him and while I recognize the talent in the musicians and the inspired song writing I can't seem to really embrace any of it. The notes are played well, the lyrics aren't bad but yet that natural reaction I get when I hear something I like is missing. Then the realization came to me that it wasn't the music that was causing the feeling to begin with. At least it wasn't just the music by itself.<br />
For reasons I will try to explain the music that I love so much and makes me smile is not just about the notes or the lyrics. It's more about the memories associated with every song I hear played. It might be where I was when I first heard it or at least the first time I remembered it. My brain doesn't just process the music, it replays memories right along with it. So when I hear the new music my brain doesn't have any other information to call upon. It's like it only has half the story and it's waiting for the rest of the story to decide if it likes it. Now the fact that it is my son playing it for me I'm pretty confident the blanks will be filled in with great memories. And then I suspect the music will sound a lot better to me. Like I said there is nothing wrong with the talent, it's the listener.<br />
Dr. Martin Luther King said next to the word of God the art of music is the worlds greatest treasure. The reverend hit the nail on the head. With all the crap going on in the world today I find myself listening to music more and more. It seems it is one thing that no matter what political point of view you may choose to have we all still love music. The bands I listen to remind me of the people who introduced me to them as well. Friends who had different tastes than mine would share something new to me and even if I didn't like it the memory remains. And the times were simpler then because all the stress of actually being an adult wasn't yet present so it makes perfect sense the memories were good ones. So the more hostile and divided the world around me becomes the more music reminds me of how people used to get along and appreciate someone else's opinion.<br />
I read somewhere that Bono said music can change the world. Personally I would listen to Bono sing the phone book but I am not sure he is correct here. But I'm willing to give it a shot because nothing else seems to be working very well. Even though people may agree or disagree on the type of music you listen to one fact remains: Nobody ever called me an asshole for liking Led Zeppelin.<br />
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Till next......<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-38159811701816764352017-05-24T13:27:00.001-04:002017-05-24T13:27:23.686-04:00Man Cave Musings: So I'm sitting naked with a couple of guys and cov...<a href="http://mancavemusings.blogspot.com/2017/05/so-im-sitting-naked-with-couple-of-guys.html?spref=bl">Man Cave Musings: So I'm sitting naked with a couple of guys and cov...</a>: and one of them turns to me and asks, "Can you whip my back with this for a minute?" That is not the most shocking part of the s...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-62056299589662858042017-05-24T13:19:00.001-04:002017-05-24T13:19:44.473-04:00So I'm sitting naked with a couple of guys and covered in sweat..... and one of them turns to me and asks, "Can you whip my back with this for a minute?" That is not the most shocking part of the story believe it or not. The part that will really concern people is the fact that this occurred on a regular basis and I was a child. Before you go down a deep dark rabbit hole of possible horrific crimes I should mention that I was in a sauna with my grandfather and his neighbor who had a sauna in the basement of his house. The "whip" in question was actually a cedar branch which was supposed to increase your circulation. The fitness craze had not yet reached the Copper Country of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan in the mid 1970's so there will forever be certain images that cannot be unseen but I loved everything about taking a sauna.It was great the way it made me feel so clean afterward and helped me to sleep soundly. (which was an issue even at that age). I regale you with tales of lore from my youth not to shock you but to try a draw a distinction between growing up in small town America and growing up since 2000 and beyond. Originally I set out to lament that my kids will never have the chance to have the upbringing I had but it changed.<br />
My first thought was sadness that something as simple as a sauna would now be considered a crime in a lot of places. The exploring we used to do in closed copper mines today would be a trespassing charge. The apple fights, dodgeball games and tobogganing would be considered far too dangerous for the helicopter parents of today. (For those who don't know a toboggan is a plastic sled which can propel you down a snow covered hill at a rapid rate of speed.) Setting out of the house early in the morning and not returning until dusk will get you an Amber Alert and possibly a picture on a milk carton by the time you get home now. Back then it was what you did everyday. I don't recall my parents ever being panicked about where I was or who I was with. It is possible they just wanted to get us out of the house and didn't care if we were feeding bears raw meat with our bare hands but I don't think that was it. There just wasn't this hyper level of fear and constant communication that exists today. We were free to grow up and figure things out on our own. It's much different today.<br />
Before you join me in thinking todays youth is getting the short end of the stick I would like to point out that maybe its not better or worse, its just different. My kids have had a X-Box, Wi or Playstaion since they were 5 years old. Not to mention Rock Band, Nintendo and other games I don't remember. We also had some pretty cool things. If we wanted to play outside we had trees. That's right. We would climb trees. Or we would go into the woods and see how far we could go into the woods before we got scared. We also had snow. And a lot of it. We would dig tunnels in the yard that would connect to each other and meet in a big room that several kids could sit in at one time. Today we worry about violent video games, then we were concerned with cave-ins. Or when connecting 2 tunnels together getting a shovel in the head. Was it dangerous? Hell yes. Did it scar us for life? I don't think so. Just like I don't think video games will permanently damage the kids of today. The games they have today are really cool and I wish we had some of those growing up. But it doesn't mean they were better or worse, just different. <br />
Libraries and encyclopedias were the things we depended on to get answers to unknown questions. Does anyone remember what a thrill it was to master the Dewey Decimal system? Me either. Because it wasn't a thrill, it was a chore. Today information is literally right in their hand. How about trying to do a report on some obscure subject and searching for information? Not anymore. Double click and thousand of web pages tell you the top exports of Iceland. Who had it better? Once again, its not about which is better, its just different. I do miss when the kids used to come and ask me questions and I would have the answer or at least a good nugget of bullshit that sounded impressive. Now I answer the kids questions the same way every parent does. "Google it". If we wanted to get a group together we had to use an actual phone and call our friends. Obviously it was nearly impossible to put together a flash mob. Our version of text messages were the notes you would pass to each other in class. Instagram was called a school yearbook. Not saying what's better or worse, its just different.<br />
Teach your children to embrace and love what they have because one day they will be looking back with fond memories of their childhood and trying to figure out its better or worse. Its just different.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-59103411208117404082016-09-07T02:51:00.001-04:002016-09-07T02:51:50.347-04:00Man Cave Musings: The keys to a happy marriage....advice to my sons....<a href="http://mancavemusings.blogspot.com/2016/09/the-keys-to-happy-marriageadvice-to-my.html?spref=bl">Man Cave Musings: The keys to a happy marriage....advice to my sons....</a>: I know what everyone who knows me is thinking right now. Why in the name of all that is good and holy is he giving advice about marriage....Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-14691202722261169762016-09-07T01:59:00.000-04:002016-09-07T02:44:39.104-04:00The keys to a happy marriage....advice to my sons..... I know what everyone who knows me is thinking right now. Why in the name of all that is good and holy is he giving advice about marriage. He's got rice burns he's been married so many times. True, there are plow horses that have been hitched less than me but experience is a very good teacher if the pupil is willing to learn. How many other people can say they have been happily married three times. That pool is a whole lot less crowded. Sure at the end of the first two there was some tension and conflict but we came out of it as not only friends, but good friends. Most of the time we were married there was very little drama or anything resembling anger. My exes know I would do anything I could to help them if they needed it. So maybe I do know something.<br />
So pay attention boys and I will give you the five keys to a happy marriage. Take notes if needed.<br />
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<li>Her opinion is the most important one in your life from the moment you say I do. It is more important than your friends, sibling, mother and yes, even your father. (maybe especially your father) It doesn't mean you will agree with everything. You won't. Your wife is obviously smart or she wouldn't have married you so treat her thoughts with the respect they deserve. Don't worry about the occasional disagreement. It is healthy long term to clear things out that no longer need to be there. Kind of like a forest fire or a bad case of stomach flu. </li>
<li>Love her with out conditions. Trying to change someone you love and married is like rowing a boat with one oar. You are going to get really tired, frustrated and wind up right back where you started. Not to mention you will be using one arm for quite a while if you persist. She is probably not perfect, remember she married you so she doesn't demand perfection. Neither should you.</li>
<li>The most important parts of your body to her are your heart,your hands, your ears and shoulder. She just wants to be in your heart. She wants you to listen and actually hear her problems and wants a shoulder to lean on when she needs help. Don't believe the porn you see on the internet or the crap on the cover of Cosmopolitan magazine. She will be much more impressed if you know if you know 15 ways to fix the dryer than if you 15 positions of the Kama Sutra.</li>
<li>Laughter is the best medicine. Marriage can sometimes be hard work so a little laughter goes a long way. Try to make her laugh and not make her cry. This will become somewhat tricky at times. I guarantee you there will be at least one time where you will find your wife crying and when you rush over to find out what is wrong you will here, "I love you so much". When this happens try VERY hard not to laugh. I know this will make no sense to you. It didn't to me either but do not laugh. She is very liable to change her opinion of you right then and there. Give her a hug and hide your face in her shoulder if you have to. Then if you start laughing it will seem like you are sobbing uncontrollably. That works to your benefit.</li>
<li>Never forget you have entered into a partnership. Be man enough to ask for help if you need it. Don't try to solve every problem by yourself. Yours or hers. Sometimes she will share a problem she is having and you will immediately offer several solutions. Do not do this. It is a trap. Much like the crying tears of joy thing mentioned earlier it may not make sense but she doesn't want you to fix anything. She just wants you to listen. Sometimes she wants solutions. I've got nothing for you on this one boys. I still haven't completely figured this one out yet. If you do please give me a call. Be honest. Again, a little tricky. Does this make me look fat is not a time for honesty. Do you love me? Honesty. How about we go to a festival this weekend? Tricky. Are you okay with staying home tonight instead of going out? Honesty. Do you think she looks good dressed like that? Tricky....You get the idea.</li>
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My failure in every one of the areas will allow you the luxury of not repeating them. I still screw up some of them but I recover much quicker. While I am nowhere near a perfect husband I like to think I am not a horrible one either. In short boys if you want to be treated like a king treat her like a queen and you will be. Four words sum it up best: Don't be an asshole. When you do get married be forewarned that if you complain to me that your wife is acting like a bitch I might explain to you that is what happens when they marry an asshole.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-62492297338899189242016-09-05T18:09:00.000-04:002016-09-05T18:09:24.189-04:00Discernment at odds with trust.... Hopefully most of us are lucky enough to have an over-riding sense or feeling that things will generally work out for the best. Despite all the current challenges we currently face either as a country or individually we have confidence that it is going to be okay. It is that belief that allows many of us to sleep (not well, but sleep nonetheless). But we also have been gifted with discernment. The ability to think and to evaluate who and what we should trust is what keeps us from being harmed, hurt or taken advantage of. So the question becomes where does one end and the other begin. So who or what to trust? Anyone over 50 years old or anyone who has spent a night drinking and then hit the late night drive thru window knows you don't trust a fart. Gamblers know you never play poker with anyone named Ace or Slim. Women know you never trust a man who says I'll call you tomorrow. Never trust a used car salesman who wears a suit more expensive the the car he tries to sell you. These are tried and true axioms. In God we trust. That works for me and the money we print. I trust my wife, kids, family and friends love me. Those are easy ones more for me. But then what?<br />
The problem we are encountering on a daily basis now is the institutions we used to, and need to hold trust in has crumbled. The trust of our police force is a critical part of what makes us a civil society. That trust is under attack. Are there bad and racist cops? Of course there are. There are good and bad everything no matter what profession you choose. Are most cops blatant racists? I don't think so and I trust they are not. If the people protecting us from the criminals are not trusted than who do we turn to? The F.B.I.? Does anyone trust them to treat all citizens fairly given recent events? I doubt it very highly. Do you trust the I.R.S. will give you the same treatment as public officials? Recent developments would indicate that is not the case. So who is left to trust if not law enforcement?<br />
How about the people we elect to pass laws? If you are willing to trust them my hat is off to you. Especially the two candidates for president this year. Hey,you want to vote for Hillary because she is not Trump, I get it. But you know she would rather climb a tree and lie to you instead of stand on the ground and tell you truth. Voting for Trump because you can't stand Hillary lying and her corruption, I get it. But you know he will lie at the drop of a toupee to get what he wants. So at least we can trust the media to keep them honest, right? If you truly believe that any network media will give you a honest and unbiased opinion please seek immediate medical attention. A four hour boner is much less dangerous than you being on the streets. Every single network has been caught editing, deleting, fabricating and out right lying to you. They are not the ones to trust.<br />
Perhaps our financial institutions? I just finished watching The Big Short and I read the book by Michael Lewis. You can cross banks and Wall Street off the list. What was hoisted on the American people was downright scary and criminal. Yet only one person ever went to jail. You can include some government agencies in there as well. Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac executives should have been starring in Orange is the new Black years ago. Sounds pretty bleak so far doesn't it? Well there is something we can put our trust in and not violate our gift of discernment.<br />
Rebuilding trust in all these groups can only happen from the ground up. We need to start by trusting one another. My circle of friends and acquaintances on all the social media platforms I engage come from many different backgrounds and political viewpoints. Do I think any of them want less for their children or mine? Of course not. Just because we have a different way of looking at things doesn't mean one of us is evil and the other is an angel. Most of my friends would be considered liberal or libertarians. I am more conservative politically. Does that make me smarter or them smarter? Probably not. Does is it mean that one of us is a greedy bastard and the other wants to turn us into a communist nation? Of course not. But that is what you are being told. Every time you listen to a newscast someone is trying to pit one side against the other. Don't buy it.<br />
Do all my white friends wear sheets with holes cut in them at night and secretly burn crosses in the backyard? Do all my black friends spend their free time robbing and stealing? Maybe all my Mexican friends are too busy selling drugs and raping people to show up for work? If you watch the networks or listen to the politicians this is what you will see here. They push the agenda because they want nothing more than your vote to stay in power. I choose not to play the game. It doesn't matter to me if you are black, brown, red or white as long as you treat me and my family with respect. Who you vote for does not influence how I think of you. If you are my friend, you are my friend period and end of story. I will put my trust in you and not think twice. The thing is I really believe that if we just deal with each other without the outside noise we would be much better off.<br />
Once we trust one another we can begin to rebuild trust in the institutions that we must have trust in. We must have trust in our law enforcement, government, banks, schools and eventually even the media. The fragile construct that is our constitution does require a fair amount of faith that we as citizens will do the right thing. Without trust all the discernment in the world will not improve our country or our lives in general. Of course I could be wrong. I guess that depends on if you trust me when you read this or if you discern that I am full of crap.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-77529791665994472462016-09-01T01:02:00.000-04:002016-09-01T01:02:23.043-04:00It is time to cast your vote.... Decision time has come for everyone to pick a side and cast your ballot. While this is by no means a scientific exercise I think it will show where we are as a country now and what direction we might be heading. No matter the outcome of this very important contest we will all survive.<div>
The three candidates put forth for a vote should be known to you by now. One has been around since the 1960's and is a household name. The second candidate rose to public scrutiny about a decade later and anyone my age is very familiar with what they offer. The last candidate is relatively new to the scene but quite popular among the millennials and the more enlightened and less entrenched baby boomers. The battle lines have been drawn so now it's time to seriously consider your choice.</div>
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Before asking you to embark on this personal decision I implore to discard all the normal things you might rely on. Don't vote one way just because you have always thought the same way. Don't vote one way because your Mom and Dad always voted that way. Take a few minutes and really listen to all three choices and then listen to your heart. That's right, your heart. Vote for who makes you feel the best, who stirs something deep down inside you that perhaps you haven't felt in a while. The choice is yours and yours alone. Every vote counts, at least in theory. So without further delay:</div>
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Who did the greatest na na song? It is a tough question I know but you have to vote for one of three candidates listed below.</div>
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The Beatles: Hey Jude</div>
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Journey: Loving Touching Squeezing</div>
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Train: Drops of Jupiter</div>
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Please cast a vote and share this very important election with anyone else who is sick and tired of trying to decide between the dumpster fires we have running for President. At least yo don't have to take a shower after voting in this election.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-48497596129794407652015-10-18T22:06:00.000-04:002015-10-18T22:06:31.869-04:00The Top 10 things the manager really means... When the slightly haggard man or woman approaches your table and asks,"How is everything tonight?" he is performing one of the essential duties of restaurant management known as the 'table visit'. Most companies include this task in any managers daily routine but the person is honestly asking because he has to know the good, the bad and the ugly to improve the operation. But there are times where the complaints are so far away from rational or helpful that the manager must bite his tongue and smile politely while assuring the patron they will address the matter right away. They are lying their ass off in some cases. My Top 10 responses that I would never say but have certainly thought are listed below. On a side note there is no reason to start a complaint with a disclaimer that you normally don't complain. We don't believe you.<br />
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10. My drink taste flat.-Manager says he will check the carbonation and get it fixed right away. What he really thinks is"so is your date, we just assumed it was a life style choice. We'll take a straw and create some bubbles and bring it right back to you".<br />
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9. It's too cold-Manager says he'll adjust the thermostat. He won't. He really wants to offer you a shawl or afghan, some warm cocoa and to rub your hands until they are warm. Never mind that the other 100 customers seem fine, let's turn the heat up until sweat breaks out on every one of them until your warm.<br />
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8. Could we have a different table-Manager says of course and moves you to a different table making sure to ask if the new one is suitable in a pleasant manner. What he is actually thinking is' sure, no problem because we assign tables completely at random anyway. Sometimes we just throw a dart on the seating chart to pick our next table. If this one doesn't work I can just take you on an endless loop around the restaurant until you get tired enough to pick one. At least you won't be complaining about it being too cold after we've run a few a laps around the salad bar.<br />
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7. The server said you are out of Mountain Trout.(or other item) Manager apologizes and offers another entree. The voice in his head is saying,' I'm not sure what part of the server statement confused you but even if we had David Copperfield, Siegfried and Roy and David Blaine working in our kitchen we still couldn't produce the trout. I could grab a pole and head down to the creek but that might take some time. How about you deal with feeling of emptiness and order one of the other 48 things on the menu.'<br />
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6. Adult asks if they can order off the kids menu-Manager politely informs the guest that the kids menu is designed just for children but he will usually make an exception. "I will let you order of the kids menu if you get the crayons and color all the pictures on the kids menu and sign it so we can hang it on the wall when you're done. Maybe I can bounce you on my knee after dinner so your tummy doesn't get upset as well. Do you ask for a sucker when your kid goes to the dentist too? Hope you enjoy your grilled cheese.<br />
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5. Male customers only, "I'll have a frozen virgin pina colada. I don't drink alcohol." Yes we can get that for you." Because you probably don't stand up when you pee either. Let me see if we have any of those cute little umbrellas to put in your drink too.<br />
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4. There is no liquor in my drink. Manager will apologize and immediately inform the bartender to put the same amount of liquor in your drink except to float it on top of the mixer. There is also a very good chance the bartender will be very busy the next time you order a drink. If you want a double, order a double.<br />
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3. There is no way I spent that much money. Manager apologizes and then promises to check with the server or usually the bartender. He will check and 99 times out of 100 the charge is exactly correct. Maybe when you ordered those shots for the ladies at the bar you thought they were going to pay for them. Maybe you thought when you said bring us another round you thought it meant bring them a bill too. Sorry to shatter your dreams of equality but when you order it, you pay for it. Try just ordering what you want next time and I'm sure the bill will be more to your liking.<br />
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2. Just take the food off my bill. Manager might take the food off your bill and then again he might not. If you ask for medium and it comes out medium rare, the manager corrects the problem by cooking your food to medium in a timely matter he probably won't. If you eat more than half of your food and then say you didn't like it, he probably won't. If you tell him to take it off the bill he will do everything in his power to not take it off. He knows his job and doesn't need you to tell him to do anything. If you were at work and your client said,"just don't charge me for that" how would you react? A manager is no different, suggestions and complaints are great but demands, not so much.<br />
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1. We haven't seen our server since we sat down. Manager apologizes and assures the guest the server will be right with them. But in this case the customer is exactly right. It's not that the server hasn't been there. They approached the table three times even asking a question on the first two trips. If you had the common courtesy to glance up from that smart phone long enough to acknowledge your server you might have seen them. SMH. Not LOL here. How about giving your server a status update on what you want to eat and drink? Instead of checking in at Four Square try checking the menu. At least wait until you have ordered before posting the obligatory Yelp review. If the truth be told the manager should tell you to take your over developed texting thumbs and stick them up your ass and walk out on your elbows but he is much more refined than that. He will merely smile and tell you thanks for stopping by.<br />
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Till next....Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-57790088939273165372015-10-09T14:06:00.000-04:002015-10-09T14:06:50.924-04:00Do you remember where you were when.... Anybody over the age of 30 remembers where they were on September 11th, 2001. Everybody over the age of 60 probably can tell you exactly where they were on November 22nd, 1963 when President Kennedy was shot or the day Mr. Armstrong walked on the moon. Certain events are so remarkable that you can't help but remember exactly where you were and what you were doing when they occurred. But how about the memories you have that are much more personal to you, that mean so much to you over the course of your life that you will never forget when they happened? Did you know then the impact it was going to have or the long term benefits you would enjoy for years to come.Or did what happened seem like nothing at the time but would turn out to be a part of your life for years I suspect the answer is no.<br />
For me some of those memories remain as clear as the day they took place and others are clouded over time (and with music,other factors). My first live baseball game was at the old Metropolitan Stadium in Minneapolis to watch the Twins play the Red Sox. I was probably 6 or 7 and from that point forward I fell in love with baseball and enjoy everything about it to this day 40 plus years later. Did I know then how much becoming a sports fan would mean to me. Of course not, I was much more concerned with getting hot dogs and popcorn than I was categorizing the significance of the event. On my 16th birthday I sat with my Dad and watched Reggie Jackson hit three home runs on three consecutive pitches from three different pitchers. It was a performance that probably will never happen again but I remember it best because it was my birthday and I was watching it with my Dad. A lifetime memory that just happened without any marking of the occasion. I didn't wake up the next morning and think to myself "I'll never forget that."<br />
The first time I met lifelong friends Steve Kneebone, Steve Harma, Joel Ciucci, Louie DePuydt and many others still remains fresh in my brain even though at the time a never gave it a second thought. I can't imagine how much less fun my life would have been without them. The point of the blog is that many of the things that turn out to be huge parts of our lives going forward are happening right now. But like most people I wonder if I am appreciating the things coming in to my life to the degree I should or are they just drifting by unnoticed; taken for granted as just another day. Are we aware enough to know how special people and events are in real time? Speaking for myself I fear I am not that introspective.<br />
Memories cannot be manufactured anymore than emotions can. But memories also can't happen without emotion being attached to them. My wife has tried to create some family memories by taking all the kids to various festivals and the like. The failures have been so epic that they did create the desired effect. The trip to Ellijay, Georgia to listen to bands play at a Friday night town square block party is legendary in our family. The event ended the week before so the only thing in the parking lot was an ATM machine that all the kids gleefully posed in front of for a picture to commemorate the event. To this day just the mention of an ATM sends them into tales regaling the empty parking lot. A memory was created that will last a lifetime, even if it wasn't the way it was planned. Pasty festivals, apple festivals and more have all crashed and burned. The kids will actually run and hide when she picks up a newspaper advertising the festivals for the upcoming months. But she has done exactly what she wanted, to create family memories.<br />
Maybe during our busy day we should take the time to just stop for a moment and realize how the little things that are happening aren't so little. I'm trying to enjoy the people, events and chores that occur during the day more, treating the seemingly mundane as exciting. When I look back twenty years from now I want to be able to say that I knew it right away and didn't take it for granted. Of course twenty years from now I probably won't remember who I am but at least I'll remember something.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-74798504400060218222015-10-06T23:53:00.003-04:002015-10-06T23:53:22.877-04:00He who laughs last, laughs where? The older I get the more I try and find humor in things. George Bernard Shaw mused that you don't laugh less as you grow old but not laughing makes you grow old. ( I paraphrased) Much to my amusement and the disgust of those around me I find things that average people find sad bring me to laughter. Funerals included. There is even a name for that condition or disease or whatever it is. It's call Psuedobulbar Affect and even has it's own acronym: PBA. I thought that had something to do with bowling but a funeral and three games of bowling aren't that far apart so I guess it's okay. I have tried to avoid funerals and most other extremely serious or sad moments for this very reason. Does this mean there is something wrong with me?<br />
I'm sure that, combined with my sarcastic nature a therapist could make a fortune with me on the couch. Or it's possible that it is nothing more than a well defined coping tool developed over years of practice. Doctor asks, "Why do you feel the need to laugh at serious or sad events?" "Well Doc to tell the truth it seems like so much more fun than crying." "So you don't feel sadness?" "I'm sure I will when I get the bill. Of course I feel sad but not for very long." "I see. So how do you feel when you feel sad?" (That question was actually asked.) "Did you really just ask me that? Grant is buried in Grant's Tomb and George Washington's white horse is still white. I'd rather have Tim Conway as my dentist than you for my doctor." Suffice it to say that my therapy session ended after that question. Maybe I don't feel sadness much for a different reason.<br />
With the crossing of the 50 year old mark a few years ago more and more of my friends, customers, relatives and acquaintances have passed away. Really good people who left far earlier than they should have. Given the choice of dwelling on the loss or remembering the laughter, I choose the laughter. I don't give a crap if people think it weird or somehow callous. I try to never have the attitude that someone who has suffered a great loss should get over it. Grief doesn't have a timetable or come with a pie chart. Just because my method is unusual doesn't make me anything other than different from most. There are so many serious things going on in the world today that laughter is the only thing that makes me feel sane some days.<br />
Some people start their day out with prayer, meditation, yoga or just a strong cup of coffee and their computer. Try mixing a dose of laughter before beginning your day. I had a Far Side calendar for years and everyday started out with a laugh. It works wonders. They say laughter releases endorphin in to the bloodstream. I think endorphin is a funny word anyway. It's a win win. So go ahead and laugh as much as you can because I've seen this movie before and (spoiler alert) we all die in the end anyway.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-42343359660123650632014-05-10T13:53:00.003-04:002014-05-10T13:53:59.992-04:00The gift of a legacy..... My cousin Tami recently wrote a very good article about our grandfather James Allen and the impact he had as an educator and mentor. Because we lived so close to Tapiola, where he was the principal of John A. Doelle school, I was lucky enough to spend many weekends with my grandfather and grandmother so I thought I would share a few memories. Excellent article, by the way Tami, well done.<br />
James Allen was what every educator should strive to be. He didn't talk about theories, he lived them, he practiced them, he took them out of the faculty lounges and into the classrooms. His belief was that a child had the ability to excel at something, it was his job to find out what that was. Every student meant something to him, not a grade, but a young person on his way to becoming an adult. It wasn't about passing his kids, that's what he called them, his kids, onto the next grade or level. It was about preparing them to be productive members of society. He took ownership over the success of his students, it was personal.<br />
During my childhood, the lessons I learned from James Allen were imparted to me without me even realizing it till much later in life. Part of his employment was a house next to the school with an acre of land. When I see an acre of land I think of a lot of lawn mowing. My grandfather saw a hot lunch program that could provide most of it's own food. Every spring he would till the soil with me trailing behind, throwing the largest rocks out of the garden. Once I grew to a suitable height it was my job to till and he would kick the rocks away. Because of the arthritis that had ravaged his body for many years, he was more than happy to pass the torch. My first row of tilling basically made a perfect S in the soil. The crop circles in that Mel Gibson movie were straighter than my first pass. He looked at me and said, "Now we have a starting point."<br />
Spring was spent planting and summer was for weeding and watering. He would walk along side me and ask me questions about the soil, the plants, math questions, science questions and history questions. When I didn't know the answer he challenged me to think about it. Sometimes he would ask 'why' when I would give the correct answer. It wasn't always enough to know the answer, he wanted the reason, or reasoning, behind the answer. These days they call it critical thinking but to grandpa it was just thinking. He would light up with pride when I could tell him how I came up with the conclusion. Even at the dinner table or sitting on the sofa, the questions and lessons never stopped. I got to go to class every minute of the day we were together and it was wonderful. He knew how to make me want to learn without me ever being aware of it.<br />
But he was so much more than information. He would constantly praise me in ways that were different. One of my pet nicknames from my father was 'motor mouth' ( a well earned moniker). On a Sunday afternoon when my parents came to pick me up I was chattering about all the things we had done that weekend when my dad held up his hand indicating he had heard enough for the moment. When I had all my stuff packed up and hugged grandpa good bye he whispered in my ear, "You have a gift for communicating, don't ever let it leave." I will never forget those words if I live to a hundred years old. That is what a legacy does for you.<br />
The last time I saw my grandfather was Christmas day in 1979. The following spring I moved to Texas and didn't come home for a few years. He passed away while I was in Texas and when my dad called I took the news like a typical Finn. Because I was young and broke I never made it home for the service. Truth be told, I wouldn't have come if I was filthy rich. It broke my heart. Growing up like most kids, my heroes were sports figures. Men who could throw a fastball, catch a football or shoot a hockey puck were my idols. But by the time he had passed I was beginning to realize that the real heroes in my life were people like my grandfather. You can add my grandmother and both my parents to that list. With age comes wisdom, finally.<br />
It is no surprise all the teachers and educators that Tami documented so well came from the tree of James Allen. He was an inspiration to almost everyone he met. I have often wondered why the one grandchild who spent so much time with him never went into education. Maybe it was his encouragement to follow my dreams, not his, but mine. Maybe my legacy is supposed to be different. With the advent of Facebook I see so many people who worked for and with me go on to be very successful. Many of my customers who became good friends have gone on to do great things despite going through tough times. Perhaps in some strange sort of way I may have helped some of them. It isn't the same type of legacy but maybe it's mine.<br />
We all leave some sort of legacy. James Keast Allen left a great one, we all should be so fortunate.<br />
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Till next.....Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-68733446934926862662014-05-08T13:31:00.000-04:002014-05-08T13:31:10.979-04:00"The luckiest thing that ever happened..... to me was that I was born in America." That answer was given by Howard Schultz, who runs Starbucks, when he was asked if he was superstitious. It sounded like an answer someone who was born with a silver spoon in their mouth would say. Why wouldn't he say that? He is so wealthy that no member of his family will ever have to work again. I'm sure he has homes all over the world, nice cars and lives better than most of us ever will. He is probably just another example of the ultra rich who got that way by the hard work of other people who are paid far less, don't get health care or stock in the company. Except that he isn't. If you don't believe the American Dream is possible anymore than you don't know Howard Schultz.<br />
Howard grew up poor in a tough part of Brooklyn, New York. The housing project he lived wouldn't be featured in Better Homes and Gardens. Like a lot of kids in that situation he found sports a good way to stay out of trouble. He was good enough to get a football scholarship that allowed him to be the first family member to attend college. He packed his bags and headed to Northern Michigan University. I can only imagine the culture shock that came with that move.<br />
Northern Michigan University is located in the town of my birth, Marquette. It sits in the middle of the southern shore of Lake Superior and gets really cold in the winter. Fortunately the winter only last from October to April so he probably enjoyed the first three weeks of school every year. There are no 'mean streets' in Marquette unless you count the bars on First Street where Yoopers and Canadians might fight over their favorite hockey teams. Not exactly the Bloods and Crypts throwing down over a turf war. I'm sure the weather contributed greatly to his appreciation for coffee that served him well later in life.<br />
After graduation he kicked around a couple of jobs and ran into the owners of Starbucks. He ended up buying part of the company and the name Starbucks (They kept Peets Coffee&Tea) and changed the company. Even if you work part time you can get health insurance. You get stock options. They donate huge amounts of money to many different charitable groups. They seem to be a company that truly understands the American Dream that Howard Schultz represents. But how many more people still believe it?<br />
This post isn't meant to sing the praises of Starbucks. When I heard his quote the first thought that crossed my mind was if anyone else still felt that way. My generation grew up being taught about the greatness of America. There was a pride that we were the best country in the world. Not perfect, but we were pretty good. The war had ended in Vietnam and even though there was a growing number of people who thought we were an evil, imperialist nation, the number was still a small minority. To understand why we felt this way, you have to understand that the people teaching us were still part of the greatest generation. They had lived through WWII, part of the great depression and the cold war. Patriotism wasn't an ideology, it was a way of life brought about by experience. They had witnessed the rest of the world and realized that upon comparison, we were the greatest country on Earth. They were part of it, not a theory about it.<br />
For all the people who are under the age of thirty, what have they seen? The first Gulf War, 9/11, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Along with those events they have been told that it was all about oil, our religion, our freedom, our sins and a host of other reasons why we suck. I'm not saying we shouldn't have vigorous debate about our country but the drumbeat has been endless for decades. How about the hyper reaction of the other side of the spectrum? If you have ever listened to talk radio or some shows on Fox news you would be convinced that the half of the country who votes democrat wants to take us straight to Stalin like communism. Republicans want to starve kids and poison people with dirty air and water. Really? Does anyone really think that because someone has a different point of view, they want to harm everyone else?<br />
The main problem, the way I see it, is that Washington and the media (liberal and conservative) don't represent most of us in the country. We still think this country is the best on Earth. We could find common ground on some of the issues Washington seems unable or willing to. We don't think our neighbor is the spawn of Satan because we disagree on politics. Do the people in Washington have any idea what we think anymore? Listen to them talk about each other and you realize very quickly that they care much more about retaining their power than they do governing by the will of the people. The media knows the more mud that gets thrown around the higher the ratings. Negative press gets higher ratings so we expect them to report only the very worst stories they can find. Most of us are the same proud Americans we have always been.<br />
So while another election draws closer and the ads run endlessly telling you how candidates should be in jail instead of running for office, take a deep breath and remember you live in the greatest country on Earth. Every day you wake up you have already won the lottery. I love debating politics but I never have been ignorant enough to think that people who disagree with me are any less patriotic or less intelligent than I am. They just have a different opinions on certain issues. Don't let Washington or the media fool you into thinking your friends and neighbors are stupid, hateful or fundamentally different than you. We are all Americans.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-34621641880165287102014-04-29T12:45:00.000-04:002014-04-29T12:45:47.269-04:00The best way to keep your pride in check..... The most effective way to remain humble that I have found is to subject yourself to the annual garage sale. We live in a community that decides one Saturday every year to allow all the residents to sell priceless items that have been accumulated over time to other residents (and every one else who speaks Spanish) through the time honored tradition of a garage sale. It's a big deal. People prepare their displays on Friday hoping it doesn't rain overnight because they want to be ready at daylight. And normally the first customer arrives well before then, somewhere between the delivery of the morning paper and the first cup of coffee.<br />
Now is when the humility begins in earnest. Sure, you may have paid a couple of hundred dollars for that suit that doesn't quite fit anymore but in the world of the weekend Fred Sanford crowd it's worth about $5 cash. Your grandmother gave you a silver serving tray that is priceless, well not quite, it will fetch you a dollar. That lifelong dream of finally getting in great shape has been gathering dust in the form of a Bowflex or some other do-it-yourself fitness machine may have cost you an arm and a leg but garage sale value runs about 10 bucks if you find the right motivated buyer. Furniture is one of those things you buy with an emotional attachment, memories may be contained in that leather sofa but you need to get over it. Sure you made payments all the way through the last decade to buy it but you're going to get less than $20 to get it off your driveway. It doesn't take long to realize that what you thought was great isn't worth all that much.<br />
But the true self esteem kick in the crotch comes in the form of negotiation. How can you think you have succeeded in life when an elderly lady staggers out of her 1971 Buick and tells you that 50 cents is too much for that painting you drop a hundred bucks on last year? Or when that stainless steel cookware that brought you such joy when you bought it is reduced to $4 because the couple that just bought them negotiated like they were on Shark Tank? I've actually had someone offer me one dollar for some shirts I was selling. Nice dress shirts that had brand names. Not a dollar per shirt mind you, five shirts for a dollar. Sold them right along with what was left of my pride at this point. Factoring in the gas I didn't use going to Goodwill, winner.<br />
I really think it's time to change this into a new reality show, Garage Swap. We take a couple in the suburbs and switch their garage with another couple who lives in another country. How cool would that be? Get rid of all your junk and get a surprise from somewhere around the world. I wonder if the Chinese have the same crap in their garage? Probably not because they built all the crap and sold it to us in the first place. Can you imagine the thrill someone in Darfur might get when they opened the door and found the refrigerator in my garage? Sure once they found out it needed electricity to work (even then it was broke) the joy would evaporate quicker than a fallen dictator but a little happiness is better than none. I know someone Siberia would do cartwheels or at least snow angels when they found the lawn mower and leaf blower. This idea can't be any worse than the Real Housewives of where ever the hell they find crazy people.<br />
Everybody has gone through at least one garage sale in their life. Hopefully one was enough for you to realize the value of a tax deduction is greater than the $20 you will garner while finding out that you and your stuff just ain't all that. Keep your stuff in the garage and feel good about yourself, it's worth the money.<br />
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Till next.....Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-84462777349205287972014-04-23T11:48:00.000-04:002014-04-23T11:48:42.107-04:00How to close Guantanamo Bay in one year..... Given the fact that a big deal has been made out of closing the terrorist country club of Gitmo for the last five years or so I thought maybe I could help. The sixth amendment not withstanding, we have a bunch of really nasty characters that we can't release because they are too dangerous and no other country wants them either. So how about we let them experience our culture first hand? Here is what I had in mind.<br />
Let's divide the work program into the four seasons, more or less. January through March our guests will be stationed in my hometown of Painesdale, Michigan working the snow removal program. This year they have had 320 inches of snow thus far so I know they could use the help. Because most of these guys come from places that don't exactly embrace technology we will skip the snow plow training and hand out shovels. I'm thinking 12 hours of shoveling snow just to watch a snow plow put it right back where it was will have them longing for the good old days of caves and camels. At least the women will be dressed similar to what they are used to. A burka and a snow mobile suit are not that different in amount of exposed skin.<br />
For springtime it is down south to Atlanta for the beautiful blooming season. For work we can start at all the car dealerships washing the pollen off of the cars. I realize that there may be allergy issues because the homeland of our guests has two types of plants; heroin poppies and rocks. Perhaps a diet of strictly dairy products would help. For night time work we will have them work security at the Clermont Lounge. These are supposedly some pretty tough guys right? They will have to be for this detail. Cover your eyes fellas!<br />
No summer would be complete without a trip to the southwest. How about Texas and Arizona? We obviously have no idea how to build a fence (unless it involves the restriction of cattle, then we rock) so how about helping us out by constructing that border fence for us? You'll probably run into some people you know while you're working, but don't let them in. That would be defeating the purpose. There will be plenty of Lone Star beer and barbecue to keep you hydrated and energized for the work. Thanks for the help.<br />
We will need to split the last season into two parts. The first will spent raking leaves at all of our national parks. What better way to appreciate the beauty of the country you hate so much? Starting on Thanksgiving you will be working customer service at area Wal-Marts. This will be the ultimate slice of American humanity for all of the Gitmo visitors. Try to keep a helpful and joyous attitude. I strongly believe that everyone will be begging for water-boarding by the end of the year. I'm just trying to help.<br />
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Till next.......Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-45044089782316092212014-04-22T14:53:00.001-04:002014-04-22T14:54:22.114-04:00A very hard holiday to celebrate... My day started out with two sales calls, the last one being a local health food store. After our appointment had concluded I was leaving when the girl behind the counter gave me a cheery, "Have a happy Earth Day." I answered with a simple thank you and got into my fossil fuel burning car and headed to the grocery store to pick up some lunch. But now I had a problem, it was Earth Day and with that knowledge being thrust upon me it made my choices for lunch and the rest of the day much more complicated. What to do, what to do?<br />
Steak was what I'm in the mood for but then I remember the impending doom of mankind produced by cow farts. How could I possibly add to the bovine flatulence tsunami threatening the planet. Personally I think the biggest danger of a cow fart is if you are standing next to one but, it is Earth Day. Maybe some chicken? Have you ever seen the inhumane way these chickens are treated? Not to mention the steroids that are pumped into our fine feathered friends. There is no way I could eat a chicken on Earth Day.<br />
Vegetables seem to be the only way to go. A nice salad, produced by genetically modified seeds sounds somewhat appealing. Can't go there either. Luckily I can go to organic veggies and free range chicken eggs. Perfect. The eggs are in a Styrofoam container. The organic vegetables have a Styrofoam bottom and plastic wrapped around the top. Styrofoam is bad for the planet because it doesn't rot fast enough and plastic is made from petroleum. There goes the vegetables and the eggs. I'm running out of options quickly.<br />
Ice cream comes from cows but I remember seeing a commercial about the cows being the happiest cows on Earth. Maybe they were happy enough not to fart so I went with their ice cream. Yes, I eat ice cream for lunch, breakfast or dinner. I am blessed by the fact I eat what I want, when I want, how much I want and my weight hasn't moved in 30 years. (women reading this blog: I realize I am now one of the most hated men you know with the exception of your ex and George Clooney because he still hasn't called) With my eco-friendly half gallon in hand I headed for the checkout line feeling pretty good.<br />
After the clerk rang up my purchase he asked if I wanted I bag? What kind of bag? Paper, cutting down our treasured trees on Earth Day seemed almost criminal. Plastic? Big oil companies leaking oil everywhere just so my hand doesn't have to touch the ice cream sounds directly opposed to the spirit of the holiday. Then I looked closer at the carton containing the ice cream. Oh no, it is some form of cardboard. More trees being cut down on this holiest of holidays.(for trees I guess) Racked with guilt I declined the offer for the bag and went home and put the ice cream away in the freezer until tomorrow when I can eat it guilt free.<br />
Lowering my head in shame over my Earth Day transgressions I see my shoes. Tennis shoes with rubber soles. Damn, burning rubber produces thick black smoke, off with the shoes. My shirt, cotton, another plant that had to die. Never mind the fact that plants produce oxygen that actually let's us live. It is Earth Day, damn it. I'm committed now, off with the shirt, shorts and socks. I walk softly onto the grass taking great care not to damage even a blade and sit quietly taking very shallow breaths. I know that we now treat CO2 has a dangerous gas so every time I exhale I'm violating the true spirit of Earth Day. Perhaps one day we will all be able to embrace the ultimate celebration of Earth Day and just quit breathing for that day. Happy Earth Day my ass. I'm hungry, naked and pretty sure the neighbors are going to call the police.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17533937335929927338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1183832043017504392.post-23463822535052420962014-04-21T01:38:00.002-04:002014-04-21T01:38:42.690-04:00Totally Random Ramblings...... While this would be a perfect title for the speeches of our elected officials it is not the content of this blog today. What follows is just a collection of thoughts that have crept past my twisted mind in the last few days. There is no deep meaning, hidden messages or moral to the story, similar to an episode of Psych.<br />
Chicks dig foreign accents. They seem especially smitten with Italian or French. Even Australian piques the interest of the average female. (how else do you explain the success of Crocodile Dundee) There is one glaring exception to this rule: Canadian. No couple has ever watched Fargo, hurried home, got naked and thrown the McKenzie Brothers 12 Days of Christmas song on the stereo and gotten busy. Never happened.<br />
I come by my sarcasm honestly. When I was a child our family was watching The Waltons on television and when they all starting saying good night to each other, I started making comments about our family getting as big as the Waltons.(I think they had 8 kids, we were at 5, 6 came a few years later) My father had heard enough and remarked with a growl, "If you were born after John Boy they sure as hell wouldn't have had six more." That comment should be worth a hour on a therapists couch alone. Well played, Dad.<br />
The legalization of pot for recreational use raises some issues. Will it be illegal to work under the influence of pot? If so, we should go ahead and close 80% of all restaurants, all head shops, the Mayors' office in Toronto and the DMV. Sorry, I know the DMV is already drug tested but they moved like they are stoned already. How are the police going to test drivers? Ask them to complete the lyrics of Pink Floyd songs? Recite the alphabet forward? Check for used Twinkie wrappers and empty Pringles cans in the backseat? Will they have a 'slow lane' for stoners? There are some things that need to be worked out, obviously.<br />
There appears to be a fashion trend among women to wear very high heels and even shorter skirts. If this continues we will soon witness a woman on stilts wearing one of those pouches the guys at Home Depot wear to keep their tools in. At some point even the strippers are going to say they've gone too far.<br />
On Friday there was a 4 page article on the fact that sarcasm could be hurtful. My initial reaction, no kidding, I hope your parents didn't pay for that journalism degree. The money would have been better spent getting a science degree and telling me water was wet. Like I said earlier, I come by it honestly. A shovel can be hurtful if someone hits you in the head with it but it doesn't take 4 pages to tell me that either.<br />
Is anyone else glad that Burger King quit running those ads with the creepy, big plastic headed guy waking up in someones' bed? Didn't their slogan used to be "Have it your way."? My way would be to keep that clown school drop out with the pedophilia like grin far away form any room in my house. Somebody actually convinced Burger King those were good commercials. I can hear the pitch meeting now. "So we dress him up in robes like a king and then put a big friggin' plastic head on top of him. And we put a smile on his face, kind of like the Joker from Batman only without the warm and fuzzy feeling. Then we can put him in the bed with people or on a playground. It tested well with our focus group." Sure, the focus group was a federal penitentiary at San Quentin but why quibble over details. Good riddance, Creepy King.<br />
When I brought my car in for an oil change I was asked if I wanted my tires balanced. I replied, "Sure, do you have a seal back there? Or are you going to do the Harlem Globetrotter thing on your finger?" After a long period of staring at each other I said that the oil change was all I needed. More hurtful sarcasm.<br />
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