tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3920974276927828972024-03-18T23:15:07.289-05:00Koolade MustacheThe Tom Selleck of Blogs! Get your mustache on today!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05368523098026165709noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392097427692782897.post-91453767257416089972011-03-28T19:39:00.002-05:002011-03-28T19:43:15.127-05:00War of the Tripods, or how they destroyed Caldwell Elementary<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Going back to my first elementary school (reference previous blog), all that was left from 34 years ago was the creek in the far side of the playground area. The building is demolished and (probably needed) rebuilt to a very nice school. My building, or aka "fond memories" was just as demolished as Caldwell had been. When I told my wife some stories (hope she wasn't to bored), I was reminded of a book I read in second grade. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Tripods"><em><u>The White Mountains </u></em>by John Christopher</a>. The ultimate in easy reading for legendary war of the sci-fi kind. The coolest of strange, known only as a Tri-Pod. It's an easy read and I decided to download it to my <a href="https://kindle.amazon.com/">Kindle</a> (actually my <a href="http://www.samsung.com/us/mobile/galaxy-tab">Galaxy Tab</a> w/ the Kindle app) and away I was transported to a school with large pane windows that only opened horizontally with the push of a hand and neatly columned and rowed desks that stationed heavy cardboard school boxes (similar to a cigar box) </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FtCkSG66Z6Q/TZEq-nip_CI/AAAAAAAAACU/B1VQjRADA2M/s1600/school+box.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="165" r6="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FtCkSG66Z6Q/TZEq-nip_CI/AAAAAAAAACU/B1VQjRADA2M/s200/school+box.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">that held all your cool things like crayons, those fat round pencils, erasers shaped like blimps, rockets, spaceships and the such alike. The heat came from the radiator that was against the wall and it worked most of the time. Teachers had students take chalk erasers out side to pound away and we had recess at least twice. Year: 1978.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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<tr><td style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9GmDR45WswlWhSNNJaiQzV5jT3vSYwmFUQDiHdfMD8TXq7Pgl9ozWgP0FjwR7XNJExxXL-ZbGu487ytSSRFo0dbFQXX5Mo-iKK7w5Hxx2CO0Vni9ZALmc1dB8AGe9ejGNbyvOxGTriYxq/s1600/1979c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9GmDR45WswlWhSNNJaiQzV5jT3vSYwmFUQDiHdfMD8TXq7Pgl9ozWgP0FjwR7XNJExxXL-ZbGu487ytSSRFo0dbFQXX5Mo-iKK7w5Hxx2CO0Vni9ZALmc1dB8AGe9ejGNbyvOxGTriYxq/s200/1979c.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dairy Queen before they used Dennis the Menace...</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: left;">Today as I ran a few miles with my iPod Touch pounding some awesome tunes, I began to connect a song from a really awesome band, <a href="http://redmusiconline.com/">R3D</a>, titled <em><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6pZpaeDW67E">Feed the Machine</a></em>. Somehow I made the book about the Tri-Pods connect with the idea of the song. In my head as I ran it seemed to be a good fit. I'm not sure if the author meant for the book to represent the mindlessness of today's society, or to quote Bob Hope describing a Zombie, "<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4a6YdNmK77k">oh like Democrats</a>". Anyway, it was a good read. </div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05368523098026165709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392097427692782897.post-51565919195920933402011-03-27T21:44:00.002-05:002011-03-27T21:53:24.423-05:00Eddie Money take me back with a stolen Delorean!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Not really. Although having a <a href="http://www.delorean.com/">Delorean</a> with a working <a href="http://www.imdb.com/media/rm4057044224/tt0088763">Flux Capacitor</a> would be nice. I was looking for a quote that I heard years ago that basically stated that we should become bored with our past. I couldn't find the particular quote for this blog. There are many other awesome quotes that could fill a blog page for miles long about our past and the strange addiction that creeps over us in attempt to put it in a bottle and keep forever. <br />
Eddie Money sang that he <a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x1zb4s_eddie-money-i-wanna-go-back_music">wanted to go back and do it all over</a>. Who wouldn't right? The past remains forever as a distant dream that we cannot bring back or give cause to happen. If you have ever moved away from some moment of life and have been away for a very long time, we tend to back track or at a least, go and "see" what remains from the fragments of our memories. To some, this is a house or school, church, or a street. Perhaps a landmark such as a river or mountain have become the anchor in the rough seas of memories that give us a chance to get our bearings. <br />
My Father had passed away about 11 years ago and my Mother had remained for the most part, lonely. This past weekend I was confronted with "giving her away" as the bride to a man she met quite accidentally and unintentionally from a church she attends (btw, she is 60). When she notified me some time ago that she was to be wed, I was (and still am) OK with that. After all, who needs to be lonely? When I went back to my childhood home, I was still fine and happy for her. It was when I began to move the groom's belongings into the house it cold cocked me in the face. We had to move his extra stuff into the room that was once mine. I began to feel weird. I felt invaded. Still, I shrugged these silly feelings and continued to help move stuff into what slowly was becoming "my house". <br />
Can I understand why my pet dog, who just is the most loving and playful creature, will begin to snarl and low growl when I touch her as she is attempting to eat? Yes I can. It's instinct. It activates from within us and rises to override our common sense. And so instinct was welling up from within me. Noticing these feelings and seeing this "stranger" invade "my" home, I began to reflect about the home itself. I remember the day my Father drove us to see it. It was freshly built and the yard was all mud because the grass hadn't even been planted. It was early in the morning and I can remember running inside the "empty" home discovering all the rooms and trying to pick out which one will become mine. Then came the furniture and soon the house was filled with our things. As I began to become captivated on this first memory of the home, I started having my own "<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s28vNyjOlbc">Rocky Montage</a>" of memories all centerd on this house. I was 8 when we moved in and my Father had passed when I was 28. So, without much ado, my particular montage was quite lengthy.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sFv1k1zclRI/TY_4AKS1XSI/AAAAAAAAACM/hThO03nrZB0/s1600/myhouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="119" r6="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sFv1k1zclRI/TY_4AKS1XSI/AAAAAAAAACM/hThO03nrZB0/s200/myhouse.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Mother's Home</td></tr>
</tbody></table> When it was time to head back to my present home, I asked my awesome Wife if she wouldn't mind being adventorous and go off the beaten path and lets see if I can find the home I lived in <em>before</em> we moved to my Mother's home. So we drove about 250 miles away to explore a town that I had not set foot in over 31 years! The only map that I had beside "google maps" was the fuzzy one of broken connections of images. I have stories with these mental polaroid snapshots and now I wanted to see the real thing to bring some past back to life. When we entered the town, I must say that 31 years to be away in this day and age is a major chunk of time, because things CHANGE! I couldn't recognize anything. However, I did find the home that we lived in. I decided to find the elementary school I first attended and was having a time finding it. I had to wave down some dude walking along a sidewalk to ask if he knew where it was. Nicely, he pointed me into the right direction and off we went. Good news: found it. Bad News: the orginal school was demolished intirely and a newer one was built probably 5 to 10 years ago. Bummer. There was one saving grace and that was the small creek that ran behind the playground still existed. That brought a smile of some worth while I told my wife how we boys got "craw daddy's" out of it and kept them in jars. Anyway we did find other things within the town that brought some memories to light.<br />
So why do we become interested in our past? If you were to ask me when I was a kid if I wanted to watch a TV channel that did nothing more than show<a href="http://www.history.com/"> history lessons</a>, I'd laugh at you and say you're crazier than the Stooges! I love the History Channel. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRx3gBmsO68Dq6haEWISGSKoTB6WCgsUr0hqheMJ4PlqHYrHjOpU7o8qWnDQBG4ITGcFhOdsC5shaRKxqXJSmYYiF47JzWCt7OELxKLN10Mg3tVB8Em8NdngTvH2IwN78rUhQsegDi8n6h/s1600/1979a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="142" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRx3gBmsO68Dq6haEWISGSKoTB6WCgsUr0hqheMJ4PlqHYrHjOpU7o8qWnDQBG4ITGcFhOdsC5shaRKxqXJSmYYiF47JzWCt7OELxKLN10Mg3tVB8Em8NdngTvH2IwN78rUhQsegDi8n6h/s200/1979a.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here I am with my huge muscles! CHiP's debuted that year!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixK1I-Pniy4m4VO79woZzlIblDRZrAlmh53ID3RCjkr9_Mc2EhT2iRg49jjOzSB7-6-bP0k5R7BiirRS4gqa3DdU4_VS6dznMf2lVDSxagAtcN7wGbBiYBQA6Oj-IF643wAsFn9hDpxEx1/s1600/2011house.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="126" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixK1I-Pniy4m4VO79woZzlIblDRZrAlmh53ID3RCjkr9_Mc2EhT2iRg49jjOzSB7-6-bP0k5R7BiirRS4gqa3DdU4_VS6dznMf2lVDSxagAtcN7wGbBiYBQA6Oj-IF643wAsFn9hDpxEx1/s200/2011house.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not sure what bothers me more.. I think its the trees behind the house!</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05368523098026165709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392097427692782897.post-39074352143525276712010-12-11T11:26:00.002-06:002010-12-11T11:30:02.580-06:00Oww... let go, let go!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #353535; line-height: 19px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> <span style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">My wife is making me do this... so here is my post...</span></span></b></span><br />
<div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span></b></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span">1. Four shows that you watch:</span></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Whatever my Wife wants to watch on Monday</span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Whatever my Wife wants to watch on Tuesday</span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">*</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> Whatever my Wife wants to watch on Wednesday</span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Dexter (Good thing my wife likes that show too)</span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span></b></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span">2. Four things you are passionate about:</span></b></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Living</span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Making Movie Shorts</span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* </span></span>The Nashville Predators playing the Detroit Red Wings</div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* </span></span>Rock and Roll</div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span">3. Four words/phrases you say a lot:</span></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* "Really?"</span></span> (sarcasm to all the morons in the world)</div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* "Not everyone can be a winner"</span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* "Victim of Soccer Mom" </span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* "Love you... Hanz Bricks" (inside joke) </span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span">4. Four things you've learned from the past:</span></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Don't try to make a sharp left, downhill on a sandy street on a 10 speed</span></span> at full speed.</div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Wear sunscreen on the beach.</span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* True love is blind. </span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Hold on loosely, but don't let go. If you cling to tightly, you're going to loose control. </span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span">5. Four places you would like to go:</span></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Washington State</span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Paris</span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* The Moon </span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Moscow </span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span">6. Four things you did yesterday:</span></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Worked</span></span> all day</div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Watched TV with the wife</span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Ate Chick-fil-a</span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Went to sleep</span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span></b></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span">7. Four things you are looking forward to:</span></b></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Christmas with Family. </span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Getting crazy with fun in the sun!</span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Warmer weather</span></span>.</div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Sand between my toes.</span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span">8. Four things you love about Winter:</span></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Christmas</span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"></span><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Snow (when we actually get some)</span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Hot Chocolate and marshmellows</span></span></div><div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">* Fish Tacos</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #353535; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05368523098026165709noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392097427692782897.post-9337487543300666552010-12-10T19:31:00.001-06:002010-12-10T19:43:19.784-06:00He's Mr. Heat Miser...<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I loved all the stop motion holiday movies when I was a kid. Rudolph, Santa Claus comes to Town, The Year without a Santa Claus, and so on, so forth. I haven't watched these movies in about 20 years and today I was thumbing along the stations and came across the "Year without a Santa Claus". It features the characters, Heat Miser and Cold Miser.</div> <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EKn7v-h7V8s/TQLNqNGto5I/AAAAAAAAABw/HOQM6cIkRvs/s1600/yearwithoutsantaclause.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EKn7v-h7V8s/TQLNqNGto5I/AAAAAAAAABw/HOQM6cIkRvs/s200/yearwithoutsantaclause.jpg" width="187" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wbfgVEk-mxQ">The Miser Brothers!</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table> Did they put LSD in the kids' cereal boxes back in the '70's? I had a flash back, trippin'n, to the song playing in my brain (He's Mister Green Christmas, Mr. Green Christmas... never wanna see a day under 60 degrees...)! Check out my boys, TFK doing an <strong><u>awesome fix</u></strong> to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=auyEjbFO-CY">Heat Miser</a>.<br />
All in all I'm in conflict with myself because they freak me out now. I think I can tolerate Rudolph and Santa Claus is coming to Town w/ <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jQy_ppY2bI&feature=related">Fred Astaire</a>, but after that the characters start to really make my skin crawl... like a bad version of HR PufnStuf..I have to stop at the moment and walk around to get my skin back under control because it crawls at the near idea of even blogging PufnStuf.... eww there it goes <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H4hF8xclVL0&feature=related">again. </a><br />
Anyway, they still don't hold a candle to Charlie Brown's Christmas!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05368523098026165709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392097427692782897.post-48732439373705340592010-12-02T18:47:00.001-06:002010-12-10T19:54:23.826-06:00Festivus Time is Here!Really? ... Really? I'm looking at the weekend insert for Best Buy in the Sunday paper... It reads at the bottom four different holiday greetings. Don't want to insult anyone... cover your bases... So where is Happy Festivus?<br />
<br />
I remember when the only major postage stamps around Christmas was the American Lung Association's awesome Christmas Scenes. When I was in the Post Office the other day, I think I counted 5 or 6 "Non Christmas" stamps to celebrate other holidays. Can I have a book of Festivus Stamps, please?<br />
<br />
Seems everyone wants to drown out Christmas by cramming all their "celebrations" down our throat. I was here first. I guess the notion that "when is Rome do as the Romans do" has left the building.....<br />
<br />
Well, gotta go because its now time for the "Feats of Strength"....Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05368523098026165709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392097427692782897.post-44891185934495376822010-10-30T22:16:00.003-05:002010-12-10T19:55:05.533-06:00It's the Great CBS Special, Charlie Brown!My wonderful wife bought me the Blue Ray set of the Charlie Brown Holiday Specials. That being "It's the Great Pumpkin", "A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving" and as always, "A Charlie Brown Christmas". My wife thinks I'm silly to want to watch these kids shows, but I have my reasons.<br />
My English teacher for my senior year loved to call all us students, "Product of the seventies". I never gave it much thought to the actual meaning to that short and profound statement. I am a product of the seventies. Born in seventy-one, I grew up with those plaid pants and patchwork clothing. The Monkees, Superfriends and the Legion of Doom, Bugs Bunny and much more. I remember 1976. I remember Halloween; tricks or treating from dusk till sometimes near midnight. I remember the legends of razor blades in the candy and having to pour mine out for adult inspection. Anyway, trying to get back on track of this blog post, I remember being a kid. <br />
For years I watched the Great Pumpkin air on CBS usually the week before Halloween. This was significant for several reasons. First, well after all its an awesome cartoon, but secondly it ushered the "official" start for the holiday trinity (that being All Hallows eve, Thanksgiving and then Christmas [New Years signaled the end of the good times]). Every kid knew that for the next few months from the time Linus passed out in the pumpkin patch as Snoopy rose in the night taking substitute for the Great Pumpkin, holidays are coming. <br />
As I watched the show on my DVD player, all I could do was transport myself back to many different times and different places in my own history and depict not only the when and where I was, but to also feel and see my memories from the point of my eyes view as that kid. Then it dawned on me. I have taken tally of everything that is me and I have come short in my inventory. Double check and ran the audit only to know there is something missing. My childish excitement.<br />
Can you remember when you were excited as a child for events or thoughts? I like the Charlie Brown shows because they are seen from the standpoint of kids. The adults in the cartoons are merely muffled trumpet sounds of "Whaa, Whaa, wumm, Whaa". Meaning that kids hear the adults and can communicate, but really the interpretation of the adults voices are just meaningless to a child. To the child, their world is low to the ground and full of their friends and peers. Scenery is just empty spaces filled with bright colors. What is important is what is before them.<br />
When the show was over, I looked over at my wife (a product of the late eighties) and expressed how much I loved watching the show. I also added that what I wanted for more than all the "behind the scenes" bonus features or any of the "making of" featurettes, was that I wished they'd had put the CBS "Special" announcement on the DVD as well. What got my heart pumping as a kid wasn't just the show, but that announcement just before, where the CBS words would spin around in a circle and change colors and the drums would pound and the trumpets would signal that in just a few seconds the station's regular airing would be suspended for a special program.... wow, that was great!<br />
If I could ever have anything from my past, be it an old football or baseball card or the family vacation, Christmas's, friends, or whatever, it would be to have my childhood excitement. I guess that's explains why I love Peter Griffin so much. That moron has one thing I want; to be excited over small things. He takes an honest innocent enjoyment to small trivial things or with his imagination. Peter cracks me up with his little clapping of hands and the "YAAAAAYYY" he exclaims when he peers from those round spectacles at some stupid adventure he wants to do.<br />
This Buds for you, Griffin: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6W9V9SZPHAY&feature=related">A CBS Special PRESENTAION!</a> (Yaaaaayyyy!)<br />
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05368523098026165709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392097427692782897.post-57742822045768654152010-10-20T12:29:00.000-05:002010-10-20T12:29:59.658-05:00No Shirt, No Shoes and certainly No Nestyware!Memphis. The word alone brings an essence of flavor to both the mind and tongue. For some (usually tourists) its the idea of BBQ ribs or chopped pork; others, its the beginnings of the blues and rock-n-roll from the likes of icons as Elvis or WC Handy. <br />
Are you walking in Memphis? <br />
I sure hope not.<br />
If you do fine yourself walking around in the truest and most beautiful and hospitable areas you may need to check yourself before entering in the local establishments. <br />
When in Rome....<br />
State Law forbids smoking in establishments open to those under 18 years of age. Signs are posted at most bars and nightclubs informing you that you cannot bring your Smith & Wesson inside while you dance the night away. All these things seem to be common sense anyway right?<br />
Intro "nestyware".<br />
Be advised that you need to leave your nesty drawers at home or at least cover them up before entering the establishment. <br />
Thanks for visiting Memphis.<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">what?? You ask what is nestyware? Please see the picture posted from our lovely city for futher instructions. The storekeeper is most likely either a new fashion designer or just a product of Memphis City Schools (which by the way is another story). </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EKn7v-h7V8s/TL8mxW6-UvI/AAAAAAAAABo/XXXRllbytmw/s1600/nestyware.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="229" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EKn7v-h7V8s/TL8mxW6-UvI/AAAAAAAAABo/XXXRllbytmw/s320/nestyware.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05368523098026165709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392097427692782897.post-80861223822036574352010-10-13T08:57:00.002-05:002010-10-13T09:57:07.888-05:00Workspace Caste; the power of RingtonesNormally I don't work in an actual office, much less have any form of office space, but as of now I am in an actual office and amongst tribal colonies of office spacers. On any given day, just sit and stare at the people who pass by my doorway. You will notice that attached to the hip is their phone; be it Droid or iPhone. Slowly we are set into groups of the cool, nerd and many other caste levels. What gives me swagger? My attitude? My car, perhaps? I have a bodacious wife? Well all those things might impress someone, but around here power is played in the form of the call of the ringtone! I hear college marching bands airing the brass and percussion of fight songs of their alma mater from those tiny speakers; Ludacris or some R&B/Rap/collaboration-feature-guest mix-remix/singer's hit single ("someone call 911 shawty's fire burnin' on the dance floor"... yeah, ok...) or is it the cheesy lines from movies of yesteryear... the lowest of the caste are the ones who cannot add to their phone and just rely on the mundane "standard" phone ring. I make my power play to challenge the alpha phone... walking into the den of the hungry, facing the one with the coolest attention grabber that the phone is ringing... here it goes.. a ring of short notes echoes from my phone... eyes first move then the head and neck follow in unison toward my location. Pause. Everyone gasping for oxygen to replenish the depleted brain cells that conduct cranial business in the recesses of memory function... there it is.. the master of the tone... could it be? yes, sir... my ring tone is the arcade music from Galaga.<br />
When I throw down, ya'll, I knock ya way back to the '80s!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05368523098026165709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392097427692782897.post-56770275416827082172010-10-06T14:02:00.000-05:002010-10-06T14:02:52.130-05:00Lancome, for Men!Ok, so here I am at the mall.... looking over all the crowds and finishing up my last bite of Chick-fil-A (wink wink @Nobel's Book). My wife and I look over the series of stores and we gander and gaze at the many boots there are for women. My lovely wife is just bent for leather to aquire some boots (hang on honey, we'll find the right ones!) and we looked over several stores for just the perfect one to no avail. Anyway, we went into one of the larger department stores and approached the Clinique counter and she was delighted to replenish her favorite blush! What a wonderful surprise for her that she also received this free makeup bag with some delightful goodies inside! After we walked around a bit, she decided to offer up some fun for me as well, which is what we call the "Man's Lancome Counter" [aka BestBuy] usually, but this time it was Radio Shack. What marvelous wonders did appear in the form of cellular joy! Eyes wide open and heart puttering with excitement, I ended up walking out with the new HTC EVO! oh yeah! (best Kool-aid Man impression). <br />
Ok, I get it now... so where did you see those boots?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05368523098026165709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392097427692782897.post-33875789483986128712010-10-01T07:42:00.000-05:002010-10-01T07:42:36.268-05:00Say You, Say Me.... say what????Ok, so its a Friday and I'm in the "It's FRRRRIIIIDAAAY" party mode... Up at 4am to get ready to be at work by 5:30am. I have one of those cool single serving coffee makers and pow(!) right in the kisser with instant wonderful! Rushing to get in the car and head to my office, I find peaceful tranquility within the confines of my vehicle. Mentally prepping for today, I turn on the radio to jam to some upbeat tunes. Striking gold with some of that strange Ke$ha chic, I get the blood pumping... this is going to be an awesome day! Oh wait, damn the song is over as I just caught the end of it when I turned it on.. ok checking stations for another song or I will have to listen to one of my CD's.... Then there it was, the tail end of another song that caused me to pause to hear what was up next.... what the??? I seem to know the song, but it sounds so alien to my memory... to know, but not know... all of a sudden I expected either Will Ferrel or Zach Galifianakis to rise up from behind my seat and crawl up into the front passenger seat. I felt like I was instantly in some of the crazy movies they have been apart of... It was "Say You, Say Me" by Lionel Richie (yeah the father of that spoiled brat) with his 1980's something song that for some reason appeals to me.... all pumped up like watching an Ironman movie, some AC/DC, but here I am in my car, singing the wimpiest of finger down the throat (like gag me with a spoon) songs.... oh but wait for it.... now the rocking guitar portion comes up and I'm acting like I'm on stage.....oh God, where is some Vesuvius when you need it..... later on I'll talk about how I go into seizures every time I use my single serve coffee maker and act like Peter Griffin when I make a fresh cup... clapping hands together and that giggle of "YAAAAY" everytime I depress the "Brew" button...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05368523098026165709noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392097427692782897.post-84230616917827637522010-09-27T15:04:00.000-05:002010-09-27T15:04:32.567-05:00Cool daze; koolade hazeThey say that smell is the most powerful memory, and I must agree since its been many moons ago I was heading out for a date when I spilt a very large portion of "Jaguar" cologne that I just bought from the PX all over me. One day my wife and I were walking in a department store and I saw that they still made that brand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took a whiff and was instantly standing on a Texas roadside in 1989 trying to wash off the excess toilet water from my shirt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now what is also amazing to me is how a particular temperature mixed with a certain amount of sunshine and just the right humidity and breeze can also magic carpet ride you to locations of long ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This past weekend, I stepped outside for the first time to feel the very first fall weather of the year. From the moment that my foot hit the outdoors and the first of the fall breeze brushed my face, I felt myself once again on a Texas roadside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This time soaking up a beautiful day while riding an enormously heavy Huffy bicycle that I once again bought from the PX. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The road was flat and the sky was grand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Blue, deep blue with hints of small clouds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also, I was running with a group of fellow soldiers in Arkansas for a morning run and still I was with my wife visiting family in Missouri.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One feeling, multiple locations. Smell can't hold a torch to that!<br />
Reggie Jackson isn't the only one who shares the term "Mr. October".<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I've observed numerous times that some of the best times in my life came in October.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seems to be the month that I have been the most alive in the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course I've been there and done that with all the other months, but as I reflect back, it seems that when luck be a lady, she was at my place hanging for a month.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05368523098026165709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-392097427692782897.post-28894962387143907122010-09-22T11:29:00.000-05:002010-09-22T11:29:42.061-05:00Its a Mustache! How handsome of a man!Remember how life was back then? Skinned knees, cut off corduroy pants made into shorts for the summer because you out grown them. Getting air on your BMX and playing hide and seek with the girl next door, staring at ants as they crawl along the grass leaves in your back yard. Running around all day with that mustache of red koolaid and never a thought about anything else? Then welcome to the Zen Garden of Koolade! Fodder for the pondering of today and yesteryear.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05368523098026165709noreply@blogger.com0