For Crying Out Loud Dammit

For Crying Out Loud...Where Did Summer Go?!

2007-09-28T14:43:00.000-07:00

Dang! It's been awhile. I'll be surprised if any of you out there even stop by anymore. Well, I feel like there was no summer despite the fact several motorcycle trips (weekend and week long) occured and I got some fishing in. (Salmon season is in full swing right now. Caught two so far. Mmmm, mmm, mmmm....tasty)!

So, I've been busy to with my business. Started a store offering motorcycle gear for kids. Street style gear; not MX. It's a niche market but a growing one. I go to motorcycle rallies and set up a booth. Sell things like leather jackets, waterproof pants, etc. All constructed with the notion that they'll be worn by kids riding with a grown-up on the highways. (That means they're designed for function over fashion; although they are fashionable)! I have given a jacket to each of the little Rusty's and in exchange I get to shamelessly exploit their cuteness in advertising. They're cool with it.

Peace out and enjoy fall!

What Kind of Family Is That?!

2007-07-18T11:39:00.000-07:00

Here in the Northwest a great number of Native American tribes own/operate casinos. Radio stations run ad spots for the various casinos and there are billboards along the highway and even on buses.

One sign that appears on a great number of buses pictures a balding, middle-aged man who is smiling and saying: "QCC treats me just like family." (QCC stands for Quil Ceda Casino)

What kind of friggin' family do you belong to that a gambling casino reminds you of them? Cousin Earl gets me drunk so Aunt Edith can steal from me. Brother Bob extorts me. They're good folks though. They let me hang out with them and sometimes even give me a dollar or two to buy stuff. I love my family!

Hellllooooo!? WTF are you people thinkin'?

I am Man...hear me roar!

2007-07-16T09:31:00.000-07:00

Well, weather has been good and that means weekends have been busy. Two weekends ago the Dam Tour riders had a picnic at a campground about 4 hrs away. So, we rented a camper and headed off. (The little Misses rode her bike and I drove the family mobile with camper in tow).

This weekend we found ourselves visiting friends sans kids. Nice break. Having a set of g'parents nearby is a blessing.

So, ya'll may have heard the back seat of a motorcycle referred to as the "beeeyotch" seat. Not a flattering term and one we don't use but jokingly in our home. Anyway, I'm aware of the stereotype that a dude shouldn't ever ride back there; except in a valid and verifiable emergency. Even read an editorial / article addressing the topic in a popular motorcycle magazine not long ago.

However, I am not one that feels one's masculinity is determined by where one rides on a motorcycle...or so I thought. In fact, I even replied to the editor of the article in the magazine stating that I often ride on the back of my wife's scoot. I then challenged the author to contradict my manliness but only after I informed him that I've been a SWAT team member, am retired military, have led an anti-terrorist team, etc. (I've yet to hear back from him). In fact, I said, riding on the back of a woman's motorcycle is a great way for a guy to cop a feel. (hee hee.)

All my haughtiness and pride about how I was a liberated, modern man who was secure in his manhood and could ride on the back of his wife's bike without psychological issue (damaged ego) ended abrubtly at approx. 1900 hours (PST) on 14 July 2007.

We were heading home from visiting our friends (remember I mentioned this above...we were sans kids). My bike was in the shop for service and we rode my wife's to our friends' house Friday eve. Nice ride. No worries. Stopped to eat along the way. Very pleasant. Saturday, the 14th, was equally pleasant. Good weather. Fabulous visit. Then we began our trek home. Again, I was riding passenger and kind of enjoying just being able to sit back and relax and watch the scenery go by. I even "moooed" at some cows as we passed a field full of bovine. (I can never resist that urge).

Anyway, we approached the ferry dock. It was about 7 pm. Motorcycles get head of line and board first on the ferry boats. Since the ferry wasn't scheduled to leave until 7:15 we'd have to wait a few minutes. The toll was paid and we were directed to the staging area. This is when my ego crashed. As we approached, I saw about a dozen bikes. Big Harleys most of them. Big, burly dudes riding those big Harleys. Rough looking characters too. A few had their biker chicks riding passenger (I refrain from calling it the nasty term out of respect for ladies).

My wife rides up and parks right in the center of the group. Heads turn. My balls have just been lopped off, put in a jar and are sitting on a shelf. Here I am wearing a Harley jacket sitting on the back of a Yamaha that's being piloted by a woman. One taboo after another. No one said anything. And I'm sure all my angst is for not and just my own crazy imagination.

Plus, my wife defended me (and my ego) whenever the topic came up. She would quickly point out that we both ride and that my bike was in the shop. The few who we struck up conversation with would approving nod and say, "ohhhh. what's it in the shop for?" (Like, why or how does that matter). Anyway, my wife is awesome! She knew I was taking it a bit hard so when we got home, she helped restore some of my perceived lost manliness: she asked me to open a pickle jar and squish a bug.

Arrr, arrr, arrr! (beating on chest). I am MAN!!!!

A Day Late

2007-06-27T12:50:00.000-07:00

The answer to the question is A or C; but most preferably C (the farthest from the door). Here's why it's NOT B...

B is the middle urinal and that would force the next guy who comes in to be standing right next to you. Unless all urinals are occupied, no dude likes to be peeing immediately beside another guy. Taking C permits the next guy coming in to take A thereby leaving B unoccupied and thus creating "space."

Why is it this way? Dunno. Just is. And, any guy who takes the middle instead of the open ones on the end may have some gazing issues or other problems. Wonder about that dude!

Pop Quiz: Unspoken Man Rules

2007-06-25T10:23:00.000-07:00

(Since most my readers are female; you'll have to use your imagination)

You enter a restroom to pee. Three urinals hang on the wall. No one else occupys the restroom. Which urinal do you use: A) The one on the left; B) The one in the middle; or C) The one on the right?

And why did you choose that one OR why not the others?

Answer to this unspoken man rule revealed tomorrow!

Pickle out of Place

2007-06-18T19:50:00.000-07:00

I was riding the bus home the week before we went on vacation. I'm a daily commuter. It's a 90 minute ride. Most of the time I listen to tunes and read a magazine or nap. Then, on other occassions, I look out the window and watch the cars & scenery go by. So, this one day I spy a early 90's Chevy station wagon. White. Boxish in shape. In the back compartment is a mattress with a blanket on it. It's neatly made up. As traffic slogs on, and the bus continues to pass the station wagon, I glimpse the driver and, more specifically, the front seat / dashboard area. The driver is a woman of middle age. No make up. Long straight, brown hair. Plain really. But what really catches my attention is that sitting on the very flat dash, right in front of the steering wheel, is a pickle. Yup. A pickle. Not a decoration. Not a dash ornament; but an actual pickle...a big fat (I assume dill) pickle with a bite out of it. (Forward of it, nestled in the defrost vent were a pair of sunglasses).
Who does this? How does a pickle find it's way onto one's dash? I haven't, nor has anyone I know, ever been driving down the road and say to myself, "Mmmmm, I'm hungry. Know what would be tasty right about now? A pickle. Oh look, I just happen to have one right here in my pocket!" CRUNCH! "Yummy." "Oops, don't look now, traffic ahead. Gotta get both hands on the wheel. Hmmm? Uh, what do I do with my pickle? Oh, I know...I'll set it here on the dusty ol' dashboard and eat it later."

So, in the spirit of this I'm going to start a thing I call "Pickle Out of Place." I'm going to buy a pickle. I'm going to take a bite out of it. Then, I'm going to take it places and photograph it. Eiffel Tower...why not. Grand Canyon...sure. I may even put google eyes on it and a mini motorcycle helmet and take it for a ride.

Suggestions for locations to take the pickle (I love saying that...pickle) are welcome.

Now, for more vacation pics.

Things eating ice cream at the rally in Baker City, OR

The rescue squad, bringing gas to me as I ran out just 5 miles from the station.

Goofing off in Toppenish, WA. They have 70 large scale murals painted on buildings throughout the little town.

Looking down over the Columbia River. Oregon on the left and Washington on the right.

Vacation Complete

2007-06-15T21:29:00.001-07:00

Eh, I've been back to work for two days and I HATE it. I so need a job that is a hobby; or a hobby that can be a good paying job.

Vacation was fabulous...6 days of riding, riding, riding. Weather was sketchy at the onset but after cresting the mountain, it opened up to clear skies and warm temps. Perfect!

That's it for now. Just a taste...more to come. But, it's late now and I want to watch a movie with the wifey!

Woo Hoo, The Weekend!

2007-06-01T11:23:00.000-07:00

The weather is sunny, warm and perfect here in the Northwest. I'm lovin' it! Last weekend, on Memorial Day, we took a family motorcycle ride. Put over 200 plus miles on the scoots. It was great.

This weekend is the last weekend of Little League. My boys have done well and I'm especially proud of Thing 1. He started off with little skill: couldn't hit, couldn't catch and didn't run very well. But, with dedication and practice (not to mention my ridin' his little butt to get better) he is now a respectable player; even earning the game ball the other night for a nice hit to left field that set his team up for the winning run. Ahhh...I'm so proud.

Thing 2 is a pretty good hitter as well but has a focus problem. It's hard to be in the field as an 8 year old. Baseball just isn't fast enough sometimes to keep the attention. I remember it well.

Three games, total, to go. We'll finish up just in time before heading out on the family vacation. We're going to hell...Hells Canyon Motorcycle Rally that is!

5 days of riding the beautiful Pac Norwest and especially along the Snake River and Lewis & Clark trail. Up to 5000 bikers are expected to descend upon this tiny, tiny town. (It's a civilized affair and family friendly. Gimme some credit...I wouldn't expose the two Things to a Sturgis type affair)

Peace out & Wonderful Weekend Wishes to you All!

www.hellscanyonmotorcyclerally.com

Man Trip Successful

2007-05-22T08:44:00.000-07:00

Well, I arrived home late Sunday night (9pm) sopping wet and chilled to the bone. You may thing that's awful? Eh, a little but even despite having to peel my clothes off it didn't negate an overall AWESOME weekend.

Since Beth posed the question; I am the John Travolta on this journey as I am the one who hatched the plan and drug the others along...one having not ridden in 7 years and NEVER in the rain (oh, he was in for an education).

Left work early Friday about 1:30. Brian & I met up with Tim east of Seattle. We were looking to maximize time so we took I-90 over Snoqualmie Pass. My Sporty needed fuel so we stopped at the resort at top of the mountain. Out of unleaded only supreme. Well, supreme it is then! Onward then with the next fuel stop 120 miles away at Moses Lake. Two gas stations out of gas. What the heck!?! (Do they not understand that for a gas station to make money they must have gas to sell)? Sporty was on fumes. Would we need the spare canteen of fuel? Luckily, no. Five miles further was a large truck stop with services. Put 3.5 gallons in that 3.3 gallon tank!

Next, hit a town called State Line. Guess where it was? At the state line of WA & ID. Fueled the bikes and now needed fuel for the body. Road signs on hwy listed a place called "Cruisers" with a motorcycle silouette. Sounded good. We wouldn't find out. Parking lot was filled with Harley's and real bikers and their biker women. The place was a corrugated metal building with a "drive thru" at the end. Apparently, you drive your bike into and through the establishment and get your spirits to go. I assume then the biker bimbo ridin' bitch feeds the rugged biker his brew through a tube as they ride on down the highway. But, so as to avoid the scene from Wild Hogs (I had visions of that running through my mind) we passed and ended up at the Outback instead. I know, I'm a fraidy cat. But I'm a live fraidy cat :)

Arrived St. Regis at 11pm and stayed at Super 8. Brian's nerves fried as I was careening around mountain pass curves at 65 in the pitch black; the only illumination was from our headlights. I had an advantage of following a big rig and was merely keeping up with him. Did I mention having to navigate through the obtacle of construction and those tall orange pylons as well? Brian is still probably cursing me. But it's an experience he'll remember! :)

Saturday started early. I was a bit tired; slept restlessly. I'm a light sleeper and the smallest of noises wakes me in my own home. Now I'm in a strange place with two persons I don't normally share a room with. My body is really alert. I kept waking up 'cuz there was alot of farting going on. Brrrrpppp! "Huh, what was that? Oh, Tim farted." Then someone talked, no, hollered in their sleep. Don't ask as I can't remember what was said. Tim & I headed out. Brian went back to sleep. He would meet us in Kalispell that evening.

Tim & I made a "man" rule: 100 miles 'til b'fast. We went over that. Not alot of opportunities along those long, solitary roads in Montana. Finally, came to a town of Ovando. Consisted of 5 bldgs: post office, gas station/general store, cafe, museum (what?!) and a fishing tackle shop. A few homes were adjacent. Population maybe 100. The Stray Bullet cafe' was great though. I had the "Outlaw:" two eggs, toast, hashbrowns, sausage with plenty of coffee so as to warm up. I asked our waitress who was of high school age how far she traveled to school. An hour. How 'bout groceries I asked. 1.5 hours back to the larges town...Missoula. (Someday, I will live in Montana)

Reached the coveted Tiber Dam around 2 or 3 only after traveling 30 miles of deep gravel road (listed as a highway on the Montana map) that was infested with prairie dogs with suicidal ideations. Little f'ers just kept running out in front of us. Do you know how hard it is to keep a m'cycle upright in gravel without small mammals running in front of you? It ain't easy. Then there was the pronghorn antelope that decided to race alongside and then abruptly in front of Tim. I was riding the six o'clock and got to witness the "race." It was cool.

Skipping ahead as too much fun was had to include in only one post. Suday left Kalispell early. Very chilly. Headed west toward home. Picked up a second dam along the way. Extra bonus. Made good time across Idaho and 1/2 of way averaging 80 mph. Then came the 10 miles outside Snoqualmie Pass. Traffic increased, speed decreased. We started up the pass and the rain began to fall...in buckets. Oh extreme suckage. It continued from then until home...over 100+ miles. And the temp was 39 at the pass.

***CAUTION***CAUTION*** Read No Further (Unless interested in TMI Tuesday type info)

Here's the problem with rain like we encountered...it was so much that even my waterproof stuff soon became less than waterproof. Normally, I don't mind riding in the rain. I feel cozy. My waterproof pants, jacket, gloves and boots topped with helmet on head make me feel as though I'm in a cocoon isolated from the outside. I kind of like the pitter patter sound of drops falling on my helmet. This day though, my cocoon was permeated. It gave up it's watertight integrity and the water soon flowed inside.

So, I don't normally go "commando." But for some reason I decided to today. Well, mosty because I didn't want to wear my boxer briefs for the ride as they creep up my butt. Anyway, commando was working just fine until the rain began to filter in. First it was just a little seep throgh the seat of my breeches as the rain puddled in on my m'cycle seat. Soon, though, the seep turned into a river. I could feel the stream flowing. The headwaters began at buttcrack valley and continued on down through sphincter stream. The river forked at left & right cheek creek. From there it flowed around scrotum delta eventually making its way, as a trickle, down thigh canyon.

Not a pleasant feeling. The good news (huh,?) is that once I was thoroughly soaked I couldn't tell anymore. That and the fact I was numb from the cold.

We rolled in at 9pm. Wifey had hot tea for Brian & I. (Tim diverted and continued East to Seattle while we had to travel another 55 miles north).

All credit to Brian. He is hardcore! 1500+ miles on his first m'cycle trip in over 7 years with two crazies and horrible weather. He loved it! (That's why he left work early yesterday due to not feeling well).

So, when are we going again? SOON I HOPE!!!!!!!!

The Dam Tour!

2007-05-18T10:58:00.000-07:00

Weekend Man Trip planned! So, there is this event called the Dam Tour. It's where motorcyclists sign up and are given a list of 20 dams (8 in WA; 8 in OR; and 4 others elsewhere). The object is to ride to as many or all as you can by Sep 30th. {For more info, check out www.damtour.com} Anyway, there is one in Montana that still has yet to be visited this year. I decided I was going to be the first one. A couple buddies from work wanted to go along.

Objective: Tiber Dam, in Chester, MT
Plan: Ride 1500 miles round trip in 2.5 days.
Mode of Transport: (1) 2003 HD Sportster; (1) 2006 Yamaha V-Star Custom 1100; (1) 2004 Yamaha Road Star.

Have any of you seen the movie "Wild Hogs?" Funny stuff. I think (hope) our adventure will be slightly tamer but who knows. I'll post pics next week when I return.

Have a great weekend y'all!!

Busy, busy, busy

2007-05-16T14:06:00.000-07:00

Wow, a week since I posted. The weather has been nice and that's kept me busy. Between shuttling boys to baseball, practicing baseball, lawn work, etc, etc I just haven't been on the computer.

The past week has seen gorgeous, sunshiny weather here in the Northwest. Yesterday it was 75 degrees! Wooo Hooo...BRING ON SUMMER! I'm ready for it. But, alas, with good weather also comes some things that shouldn't be on display, at least by some. First, here in the Northwest most folks are very pale to the point of being beyond pale and almost transluscent. The ones who aren't are either ethnic or fake & bake. Yet, whenever Mr. Sunshine peeks out a high percentage of NW'ers feel the compulsion to bare almost all. Hey, that's alot of white I tell ya. And, in typical ignorant fashion (as in "Uh, sun...so lovely. Must absorb it's rays") those transluscent beings quickly turn bright pink to red. Mmmm, mmmm toasty. Sunscreen people. Sunscreen.

On another note...I found myself staring at a lovely woman's breasts on this morning's commute to work. I couldn't help myself. She was sitting about the middle of the bus, over the wheel well, so every little imperfection & bump in the road was trasmitted up through her seat. I was fixated, captivated and fascinated by the jouncing and jiggling of her breasts. It kept me completely entertained for almost the whole, one hour ride. "The boobs on the bus go up and down, up and down, up and down early in the morning!" I know. It sounds pervy. However, I wasn't like staring as in the Chester the Molester; "heh heh want some candy" sort of way. I was admiring them. Like art. *Sigh* I tell you this much: if I was a woman I would so be a lesbian. I like the boobs. I like the other parts of a woman too. God did a great wonder when he created you all.

BTW, did you hear the one...A man speaks to God and asks; "God why did you make woman beautiful?" God replies, "So you would love her." "But, God, why did you make her smell so lovely?" asks the man. Again, God replies, "So you would love her." Then the man asks; "Why then, God, did you make her so dumb?" "So she would love you!" was God's answer.

My wife's no dummy and yet she still loves me. Yeah!!!

Love That Sun

2007-05-09T08:43:00.000-07:00

Ah, this week in the NW has started beautifully. Sunny days and warm temps. When I got off the bus yesterday morning, the air was already warming and filled with the sun's rays. Looking east, the sky was clear while out to the west, over the Sound, a light mist of fog hung but soon would be gone. The smell of ocean was in the air and it caused me to pause and inhale deeply. This is definately too nice of a day to work. Lunch and a late afternoon break found myself and a few colleagues walking the city. It was so nice to be out. Today seems to be shaping up the same. May it last through the weekend.

Now for the sadly amusing: Is there an "I Hate Paris & Her Mom" club? If so, I want to join. Also, I read that 900 fans had signed a petition to submit to Gov. Schwartzenegger requesting a pardon for her. Their reason was something like her life of glamour brings meaning to our otherwise mundane lives. HOW PATHETIC!!! If your life is so miserable that you have to rely on Paris Hilton for joy it might be better if you hung yourself. C'mon! Get up and live NOT live through someone else!

My suggestion, in response to the "Petition to Pardon Paris," is that all the sane and normal people in the country who belive that the law pertains to ALL and that her punishment is JUST, should send an email to the Governor's office declaring in the subj. line: SEND HER TO JAIL! SUPPORT THE JUDGE! THE LAW ISN'T A JOKE!

I'll be sending mine. How 'bout you? Pass the word. Let's see if we can get 10,000 willing to send her to jail.

Here's the addy: http://www.govmail.ca.gov/

Stupid Startlets v.2

2007-05-07T09:36:00.000-07:00

So Paris Hilton is plastered all over the news again. What is wrong with our country that the people who make it up continue to feed the egos & arrongance of the rich & famous? Her latest declaration: "My sentence is cruel." Cruel?! Cruel?! What f'ing delusional world does she live in? Obviously a good and literal one.

I applaud that Judge for being firm and not caving into her status. I hope now the court remains firm and backs the Judge and forces her to carry out her sentence...in the real county jail and not some toned down, fluffed up version of a jail. I hope she has a hygiene impaired, overweight bull dike cellmate with a lazy eye and unshaven armpits. I hope this cellmate takes a real "liking" to Miss Hilton.

It disgusts me that someone with so much, so priveleged and pampered is so aloof and ignorant and blind to the real world. Seeing her and seeing the news media hype her up also disgusts me because our nation's brave are dying and being maimed in a far off land.

Sometimes, I am so ashamed to be an American. Our newspapers, our media and a good portion of our population are so taken by celebrities and their fantasy lifestyles that they insulate themselves and remain oblivious to the atrocities of the world.

Oh how I love our service men & women. Brave, obedient and loyal...all so some little rich tart can complain that her violation of the law (that WE are all expected to obey as well) can call 45 days in a cell "cruel."

Hmmm, I think the Judge should sentence her to a one year tour of duty with the Army. WITHOUT her publicist, manager, staff, etc. Hey, Paris, go get your ass shot off in Afghanistan if county jail is too cruel for you.

Words & Phrases

2007-05-04T09:15:00.000-07:00

Every culture, whether it be social or corporate, has it's own slang. Words and phrases used to communicate particular ideas, thoughts or feelings. In the military our slang was acronymns. I have found that acronymns corporate America also possesses an exhaustive list of acronymns. But that doesn't really bug me.

My current company has a certain culture. It is one of passive aggressiveness at times, plagued with decision making disorder and an overdeveloped need for consensus. I love it nonetheless. But, there are some overly used words and phrases here that have come to annoy me. Here are a few:

1) Reach Out. Ex: "Thanks for reaching out to me with reference to this project."
2) Robust. Ex: "Let's ensure our program is robust and give the client a roubust
deliverable." (I have yet to hear about anyone's ass being robust)
3) Engage. Ex: "Make sure to engage that other business unit to see what they did."
4) Touchpoint. Ex: "We need to ensure we hit all the touchpoints on this one."

Of course, my company has acronymns too; about as many or more than the military. There is one that I'm of the opinion should've been changed...STD. One would have thought that the marketing people or someone higher up would have suggested a modification to that. No. It has been broadcast all over intranet and everywhere else. And, STD in this case, is a benefit :)

Sheesh, if someone didn't know better they'd think I was in the porn industry. (I'm not).

Honoring My Friend

2007-05-03T12:22:00.000-07:00

Yesterday my good friend celebrated his birthday. We had him over for pizza. My significant other (SO) made a moist & tasty German chocolate cake. And then we just sat around an hung out.

This friend and I have known each other for almost 20 years. He's the only friend I have had for this long and still keep in active contact. We met in 1988 as young men serving in our first military unit together. We became Christians in / about the same time. Attended the same church for many years. I stayed in the military and he moved on but we always stayed close. He visited us in Italy. He is a friend of my SO and my kids. How good of a friend is he? Well, he puts up with and goes along (most often) with my crazy plans. He's deathly afraid of heights but agrees to go rock climbing and mountaineering with me. (I have killer video of him inching over a cliff edge to rappel to the bottom, spewing forth great & many explatives).

Later this month, he has agreed to go skydiving with me. Neither of us has done this before. I've always wanted to and, well, he I don't believe has. But he's agreed to go along with me. What a guy! (Often my SO will send him along as a potential "voice of reason" should I decide to do anything REAL crazy).

He rides a motorcycle and we go on rides together. He's a real friend; one who may get annoyed and frustrated with me but is always there if needed. He hasn't met all his goals yet and isn't right where he wanted to be in his career but keeps trudging on.

Overall, he's a fabulous dude with great character. Oh, and ladies, if you know any available girlfriends he is single.

Here's to you Dude! Happy B-day and Ride Fast!

Iron Chef Sunday School

2007-05-02T11:02:00.000-07:00

I enjoy cooking. My significant other & my Things praise my culinary ability and friends seem to enjoy visiting more when they know I'll be feeding them. I also possess a splinter of competitiveness.

When we started attending our chucrh after returning to the States, there was a Marriage Ministry sunday school class that we became involved. There were snacks available & coffee. Early AM get-me-goings. The usual was unimaginative: store bought pastries, cookies, sliced fruit, etc. Sometimes someone would bring a fresh baked, still warm coffee cake but nothing spectacular. So, when the snack sign-up went 'round, I figured I'd contribute. I could do better than cookies. First, there was a breakfast casserole with plenty of egg and cheese and bread and sausage. It went quick. I almost didn't have to wash the casserole it got cleaned up so well. Next, was Quesadilla Grande with cheese, bacon, green onion on top and sour cream on the side. Again, no leftovers.

Then, it happened. One Sunday, on a day that it wasn't my turn to provide snack, a crock pot of homemade sausage gravy and bisquits was made available. I heard murmurings of praise for this b'fast delight. Oh, and it was tasty too. Could it be? Did I have competition? Secretly, in my heart, I determined this to be a challenge. The challenger would be sorry he crossed spatulas with me.

My next contribution was a breakfast pizza. Scrambled egg with spinach and plenty of parmesan cheese cooked in and spread over a golden brown crust. Then topped with shredded cheddar (sheredded by my hand and not bought that way) and diced sundried tomatoes. The coup de Grace...crumbled feta. Oh happy day. It was spectacular in appearance and taste. Taken to the gathering on a hot stone...it was still piping hot when served. Yeah, baby!

The cat was soon loosed and my competition discovered I viewed him as competition (he had contributed B'fast Burritos and French Toast sticks with syrup...all homemade). He recognizes me the same. WE are the only competition. The rest of the snack providers are weak, puny and lazy opting rather to "buy" their contributions instead of putting some of themselves into it. Sluggards! Slackers! Pathetic! (Do I sound snooty?)

Well, May 6th will be our next duel. He approached me last Sunday and said, "So the challenge is on. What are you bringing next week?" Oh so bold but so foolish. I told him I would probably go with the B'fast Pizza standby favorite. But now that I type this, I'm reconsidering. How far is he willing to take this? Oh, it's on alright. But, sadly, he will soon discover he is no match for the culinary force that resides in me. I will crush him! Mwahhh, haaaa, haaaa!

Awesome Weekend

2007-04-30T08:00:00.000-07:00

Ah, the weather in the Nor'west this weekend was fabulous. Saturday found me sleeping in until 9:30. I usually never stay in bed this late but it was a tough week. I had no real projects pending and the Things didn't have baseball until 2:30. So, why not capitalize on the opportunity.

The wife and I discussed a motorcycle ride after baseball. But, then we decided there were actual chores to do that needed attention...lawn mowed, laundry, etc. However, the forecast for Sunday was to be a repeat of Saturday with temps in the low 60's and sun. It was agreed upon, then, that we would work fiendishly on Saturday so as to be able to play on Sunday.

Sunday AM was gray and cool. Oh no! We went to early church service (8:30am). It was rough as we usually attend the later service, but we were blessed with sunshine when we exited the church. Wooo Hoooo! To home and then a change of clothes. Rally the Things and we were off.

Did about a 150 mile day. Not extreme but respectable. The wife and I are doing this thing called the Dam Tour 2007. There are 8 different dams in Oregon & 8 in Washington with 4 bonus dams scattered abroad. The object is to motorcycle to a dam, photo yourself with your motorcycle and registration placard. Then you email the photo to the sponsor who keeps a ranking of how many dams folks make it to. At the end of the season there is a big BBQ and prizes for those who visit the most dams. Today, we achieved #2. By end of June, we should be up to 6. Shasta Dam in CA is on the list as a bonus. We intend to ride the coastal hwy from WA to CA later in the summer to check that one off. That'll take a good 7-10 days.

This is our family hobby and it's quite grand.

Hollywood Prima Donnas Disgust Me!

2007-04-24T15:15:00.000-07:00

Heard on the radio the other day that Katie Holmes, (the more "normal" one of the Cruise duo), had felt she was being followed by paparazzi on her way to Target to go shopping. She called the local police who arrived and took her complaint as any good police offier would do. But then, THEN, they had to escort her throughout Target while she did her shopping.

O.K. WTF?! The folks in blue are employed by ALL taxpayers to protect and serve ALL taxpayers and NOT to play nurse maid & protector to a spoiled, eccentric, little tart! What a waste of man hours and tax dollars to have at least two officers follow her around a department store to buy pampers for her kid. You'd think with the money she and wack-o hubby have they could afford to hire their own personal security instead of depriving the public of two officers of the law.

Why does this bug me? Well, I used to be in LE. I also used to be a protection agent for dignitaries. These people have money coming out their eyeballs. They can afford their own security and most do employ a guard at some time or another. The fact is that these "stars" and "starlets" are no more than expectant, demanding, profane & vain, verbally abusive and mostly ugly human beings that feel all of humanity is here for them; to be at their beck & call.

Next time you're in a fender bender and have to wait 90 minutes for police response or find yourself asking the question: "Where's a cop when you need one?" Uh, most likely they're not at the donut shop any longer but rather Shopping with the Stars! (Hey, that could be a new reality show, no?!)

Well, We Did It

2007-04-21T20:37:00.000-07:00

The date of my last post was also the day of the AWANA Derby. This is like the Boy Scouts' pinewood derby. Remember my post a week or two prior where the construction of the racers ceased due to Thing One & Thing Twos reluctance to complete chores? Well, they finally got it together and came through. We didn't do so well in speed. In fact, Thing One's car never even crossed the finish line and it got its head ripped off...on accident of course. Thing Two's car placed in three heats but was eliminated in the fourth.

However, they did win for design: Thing One taking 1st

and Thing Two 2nd.

Ahhh...another year past and we leave with trophy's again. And it was a time in which my spouse and I could witness the development of our children.

Thing One has his mother's sarcasm. It went like this: Young girl approaches check in bench with a hideously ugly "car." Thing One glances at it. After a milli-second of consideration he nudges his mother, leans over and whispers, "She must be going for design."
I love that boy!!

You Come Across the Strangest People...

2007-04-18T12:04:00.000-07:00

I work in the city. I don't live in the city. I don't want to live in the city. The occassional walkabout for lunch or an errand is enough city exposure for me. For example, just yesterday I was standing on the sidewalk @ the crosswalk awaiting the light to change. A gent walks up and is standing beside me waiting for the same. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I notice he kneels down. With the switness of a rattlesnake striking, he grabs something off the ground. The way he went at it, I figured it must have been a gold nugget...or at least a quarter. He stands and I notice the same hand that snatched the item of value was now placing said item in his mouth. My curiosity now piqued I turned to steal a glance. The man had picked up a cigarette stub. About 1" of tobacco remained and the fag was flattened (but not crushed) most assuredly by a shoe. When I left the man, to cross the street, he was fumbling in his pocket for a match or lighter. Whew! Now that's some serious nicotine addiction. Hope he found his light and got his fix.

Then there was the metro bus ride. Ehhh, shudder. I HATE inner city public transport! I'd rather walk. In this instance, I went along with a colleague because he knew the locale of the lucnh joint we were going to. It was somewhere in the Asian district. I didn't know...I don't live in the city. Anyway, immediately upon climbing onto the bus I was confronted with the shrieking of a young woman. She wasn't screaming at me but rather at the bus driver. It went something like this:
Young Woman: "Mr Bus Driver, will you tell her to be quiet!"
Bus Driver: Says nothing.
Other Woman: "I don't have to be quiet. Mr Driver, she's spraying something."
Bus Driver: Remains silent.
Young Woman: (To driver & Other Woman) "I was putting on some perfume. There's no law against that! Tell her!"

Oh the drama. I walked down the aisled past that and noticed my colleague pushing on seat cushions. Apparently, maybe, checking for cushion firmness. I dunno. Never got an explanation. Then there was the girl with gaudy make-up and lots of it with about a hundred holes and piercings in her face.

The list goes on. But, on my Express Commuter bus with all biz folk commuting from the rural outback, I'm the freak. In my slacks and shirt with coat, I lay a blanket across my legs. Don my bright red headphones with a skull emblem on them; listen to my Walkman and nap. Yes, I am a freak. I still have a Walkman and have yet to enter the techno mainstream.

Happy Monday!

2007-04-16T08:18:00.000-07:00

It's Monday and another successful commute has landed me at my desk. In moments, I'll join some colleagues and head off for AM coffee. There's a Starbucks in our building but it sucks compared to the little joint across the street. Ever hear of a "Yankee Dog?" My new drink. (I usually would have a triple tall, 2 raw sugar latte). A Yankee Dog is an Americano with foamed milk on top. I get it with 2 raw sugar.

I've had a continual craving for PB & J sandwiches lately. Had one for breakfast and will have one for lunch. Had several last week. Mmmm, mmmm...TASTY! Goes good with a Yankee Dog, too.

Alright, we're back on track on the derby front; no pun intented. The spawn of my loins have managed to get the sticks picked up and even showed some initiative and climbed on the roof of the garage to clean the gutters and scrape off the moss...much to their mother's delight, eh er, horror.

Thing Two's car is now painted, sticker-fied and clear coated. All that's left is to attach the wheels and some weight.

Thing One's car is ready to be painted and then final assembly. We should be ready for Wednesday's race! I'll post pics later.

Yesterday ended with a motorcycle ride to this great little BBQ joint about an hour away. Ohhh it was so good. Wife and I had the two meat platter with spud salad, cole slaw and baked beans. It was pulled pork and beef. Ohhh, did I mention how good it was? There was a roll of paper towels on the table instead of napkins (the true sign of a good BBQ joint). Two bottles of BBQ sauce sat near the paper towels...one a mesquite and the other a tangy, spicy, mildly hot. We INHALED that food. The customer service was so fabulous. Everyone in the door was greeted by the pit master and his crew. They would yell out to customers as they ate, enquiring as to if they needed anything. They made up a pot of coffee for us and it was nice and strong and hot. Just what was needed after a bit of a chilly ride. Wanna know where the place is? You're gonna have to ask me.

I was most pleased with Thing Two. He's so well mannered and direct, too. When the pit master / owner saw us roll up he started welcoming us and talking bikes. He asked if the boys had a good ride to which they said yes. He then commented they were two lucky kids. This is when Thing Two says..."We're not lucky. We're spoiled!" Ahhh, sniff sniff, what a good and appreciative lad.

Oh, TGIF...I Think

2007-04-13T08:15:00.000-07:00

First, a question: Should one be less annoyed with a driver who is travelling 35mph in a 50mph zone on a narrow two lane road with limited to no passing zones because they have a handicap tag on their automobile?

Oh TGIF! I don't think I've really been at home all week and can hardly remember what happened on any particular day. Ever had weeks like this?! Sure you have. Tomorrow, though, that much coveted day to sleep in and putter around the house & yard doing projects that I enjoy will be interrupted with 2 baseball games, a family get together (which I'm ditichin') and have to scramble to complete two pinewood derby cars that could've been completed already if only the little b**tards who they are for would have cooperated. Oh, and I have to put the new backrest on my honey's motorcycle. WHEW! I'm tired already and I haven't even started. Plus, there's the flower bed I have to add soil and mulch to as well as the flowers themselves.

But, doing those things are enjoyable to me so it's not going to be horrible. Getting out of bed early enough to get it all accomplished is going to be horrible!

As for the answer to the question (at least my answer): NO! I don't care who you are. GET THE "F" OFF THE ROAD IF YOU CAN'T FOLLOW THE SPEED LIMIT! YOU'RE A HAZARD!!! (Just 'cause a person's handicapped shouldn't matter. In fact, to me it matters less. It's not like the roadways have their own specailly approved ADA lanes. If you've been deemed able to drive then DRIVE dammit)!

Sumpin' Ain't Kosher in the Pickle Barrel

2007-04-11T09:05:00.000-07:00

Baseball Registration to local Little League: $170 (for 2)
New Glove: $45 (for 1)
New Cleats: $50 (for 2)

Our local little league has about 600 kids of all ages registered. Average cost per child to register is $85. Approximate total = $51000 / year.

The league has equipment bags with bats, catchers gear, etc. that was purchased who knows how long ago. The equipment is in fair to good condition for the most part (I know as I coached last year and assist this year).

The league encourages coaches to solicit sponsors for the teams. This means more revenue coming in. Then, my son (eldest) brings home coupons to sell for a little league car wash @ five bucks a pop. That's $50 per kid if all of those get sold. So, let's assume that sponsorship brings in $10,000 and the car wash brings in $3000 (just estimates). Our total revenue is now...$68,000. Here's where it's going to get interesting:

Now, the Coaches are volunteers. The Coaches drag the field prior to games. They don't get paid as they are volunteers. (Keep that in mind). The Kids get issued a hat, shirt, pants. They get to keep the hat. The younger kids are umpired by the coaches. Older kids have umpires. Do they get paid? I assume, but probably not much...I'd guess $20 / game. So let's assume that there are 60 teams and they each play 16 games (I'd be more specific but the league site and/or my computer is being uncooperative so I can't get exact numbers). Total pay to Umps = $19,200. A stretch but let's go with it. Then there are the fields. Public parks and school fields. Hmmm...public. Should be no fees here. So where is the remaining $48,800 going? Let's assume:

Baseballs & Practice Balls = $2500
Replacement gear (est.) = $2400, Bats; $3000, Catchers Gear = $5400
Uniforms = $15000

Total = $22,900 / Difference = $25000

Where is that $25000? I don't know but I'm going to find out!

Oh yeah, then the coach of my eldest son's team has the nerve to tell us parents that we need to buy red socks for the players so as to match the f***n' oversized uniform provided to my son. Uh huh...my eldest was issued like a man's size large jersey. (He's 11). He was told that if it didn't fit to bring it back for a different size. He did. They didn't have any other sizes. This shirt is so big, the kid can wrap it around himself twice like a toga! For crying out loud, dammit...what happened to the days of little league being fun and local with just a hat and t-shirt that the kids got to KEEP! At least then you felt you were getting your money's worth.

Why Can't They Cooperate?!

2007-04-09T16:01:00.000-07:00

It's spring. With the budding flowers, birds and blooms comes too...AWANA Derby (aka pinewood derby for scouters).

I love the derby. I get to cut, carve and configure simple blocks of wood into little racing cars for my kids. Two years ago, this annual ritual provided me with an excuse to buy a Dremel tool (knock off, but works just as well). It's awesome! I drill with it. I sand with it and I can even cut with it.

Derby night is a night of great anticipation and anxiety: "will the car meet specs? Will it be fast enough? Can I (I mean my boys) match so & so this year; my (my boys') only real competition?" Check in is at 5 and racing starts at like 6 or so. Divisions are by age and there are several heats in each division. Two catagories of competition exist as well: 1) Speed, 2) Design.

There are hot dogs, soda & chips. Chairs are set out in the large church gymnasium sort of horseshoe, stadium style. Flashes from the cameras of proud parents "pop" all evening and at the end; the 1st, 2nd & 3rd place winners in each category take home a trophy.

Our first year was dismal as my eldest thought it would be more fun to spend time with the G-parents than help with his car. I did a basic job. He didn't win...in any category. He was quite sad. However, it was a good lesson as I explained that we only get out of things what we put in. The past two years, he has seen that come true as he helped immensely with the next two cars...

This was the 2005 1st place winner in the Design category for his age. Under the engine is added additional weight. The front tires are 1/2 the width of the rear as I trimmed them to be narrow just like real dragster tires.

This little blue coupe took 3rd in Speed last year. He put alot of effort into polishing the axle shafts, roughing the tires, etc. I think it would've got 1st in design, but you're only permitted to win in one category. (It even has a "metal" grille on front, a piece of aluminum foil fashioned and glued.

Here we have the tools, the workbench and the beginnings of the dragster for my youngest son's car. (His performance last year, his first year, was much like his elder brother's first year...utter failure. This year he was prepared to work).

The next photo is of the dragster cutout and preliminary sanding complete. Additional modifications forthcoming.

Here is where the story gets sad. I have about 7 hours into the car below with about another 5-7 more. Then, I have to assist the Elder Son with the cutout of his, coaching with sanding, etc. That will be another 14 hours. That's alot of time. That's time away from cleaning up my lawn, painting the deck, picking up debris from all the heinous windstorms this year, planting spring flowers, prepping the boat for fishing season AND THE LIST GOES ON...

What do I ask..."children, please pick up sticks & branches from the lawn so the mowing can be done." Do they do it? No. Well that's not entirely true. They did it; just did it half a**ed! So, I say: "I refuse to work on the cars anymore or take you to the derby until the lawn is finished." We're 10 days away from race day. The sticks still lay strewn about in the lawn. The car sits on my workbench, unaltered. For Crying Out Loud, Dammit...why can't they just do what they're told! I want to race for pity's sake!

Email...It's a Like / Hate Thing

2007-03-29T10:58:00.000-07:00

Wow, twenty days since a posting. Hmm. I'm not much of a blogger. I guess I'm really only a "poser blogger." I can live with that.

O.K., I've never been a real fan of technology; at least the kind that is less utilitarian and more for sheer convenience. Recently, I purchased a cell phone and then only reluctantly. I find them annoying and the people who use them incessantly even more annoying. You know the ones. The inattentive driver who, on a good day without distraction and clear weather still manages to be an a**hole of the roadways, now becomes a monumental hazard while trying to juggle their cell phone conversation, cup of coffee and smoke at the same time.
Then there's the woman who is supposed to be enjoying a dinner out with her mom who she hasn't seen for months. The restaurant is busy. Customers chat over sumptuous fare and wine. Then...Ms. Inconsiderate's cell phone rings, LOUDLY and with an obnoxious tune. She answers but not quickly. All patrons around her are alerted. She's flippant and shows no expression of what a nuisance she is. She ignores her mother and unwittingly (and without concern for others) invites all patrons in the restaurant into her conversation. It goes something like this: "No. That's not right. Billy has Soccer and Jamie gets dropped off first. Yes. His cleats are in the closet...I think. I don't know. There are hot dogs in fridge. Have those." This but an excerpt.
In instances like this, I just want to stand up and scream: "SHUT UP you inconsiderate wench! No one here wants to hear about your pathetic life of hot dog dinners and soccer schedules. Take your F**ing converstation outside!"

Then there's email. I like it. But it breeds laziness and isolation. Case in point: My "neighbor" at work. Yeah, he's just on the other side of the cube wall from me. I hear his telephone conversations. He probably hears mine. We go to lunch occassionally and out for a coffee too. Currently, we're working a project together. He wants to discuss a small point of our project. Does he stand up and say; "Hey man, can I run this by you?" No. Of course not. Instead he sends me an email inviting me to a meeting. Dang people around here like to meet. The culture here is to meet about meetings. "Email me to set up a meeting." Anyway, he knows I'm here. He can hear me breathing and snacking and whatever else. For crying out loud, dammit,
just talk to me man! No. Can't be done. Instead we have to play email tag. He sends one. I reply. He replies to my reply. I reply to his.
But alas, ultimately, I refused his invite to have a meeting...via email.

Blah...

2007-03-08T13:29:00.000-08:00

Nothing to be annoyed with. That in itself is annoying. I had something...yesterday...I think. I can't remember. It's gray, cloudy and dreary outside. Winter has been too long. Where is the spring sun and warm breeze? I do have plants beginning to bud and bloom. Daffodils are blossoming yellow and I saw a tulip popping up yesterday.

I've read other peoples posts. Anxious moods are afoot. Cabin fever, I agree. I want to get out and ride my motorcycle in some warm 70 degree weather, but none yet. I am annoyed that I can't find a new helmet. So many styles and brands but none sing to me. The one that does is like $500! Crazy!!! It's made by Roof and the style is Boxer. Google it and check it out. Peace out, ya'll.

Missing the Point...!

2007-03-03T14:00:00.000-08:00

Let's move onto Uncommon Common #2: Common Courtesy. Again, like common sense, common courtesy is NOT! This topic covers almost all areas of life from driving to interpersonal communication and so on. How about this one: I'm driving in a 50mph zone at approx. 55mph. (Yes, I like to drive fast & reckless with a total abandon for the posted speed limit). Up ahead a road merges with mine. At the intersection, the merging traffic has a stop sign. Additionally, there is a car in front of me traveling at the approx. same speed and no traffic behind me. I am following the recommended two second rule. At the intersection rolls a Lexus SUV up to the stop sign. He inches forward. Immediately I get the sense this guy just might try to gun it and pull out in front of me. I flash my lights to say, "Don't do it." But what does he do...hesitates momentarily then darts out right between my car and the one I was following. I threshold brake, downshift and steer right just in case. Simultaneously, I flash him with my lights again. (Don't ya hate when people do that)?! But it gets better. We travel 1/4 mile up the road where he turns into the grocery store parking lot. WTF?! He couldn't have waited three seconds for me to clear the intersection back yonder? Remember, there was no one behind me. Oh, but it doesn't end here. Nay, nay. As he makes his right turn, I pass him on the left. I look over and he flips me off. OH HECK NO! He did not just do that? Yes he did. The guy cuts me off and then flips me off. How rude.

Then, there are my inconsiderate children. They must think I'm their butler. Why is it they can empty a box of cookies or something but can't throw the box away? I've found empty milk cartons in the fridge; just found a extra large box that once contained Snack Pack pudding cups in it but is now empty in the cupboard. How long has that been like that? Oh well, that's just kids I guess.

What about all that other inconsiderate stuff out there...failure to use turn signals, not covering mouth while sneezing or coughing, and the list goes on.

See, common courtesy is NOT common.

One of the Uncommon Commons

2007-02-26T19:21:00.000-08:00

So, I have five of them...the Uncommon Commons I call them. They're written out and posted above my workbench. Yep. They are the things that everyone should possess but don't and yet believe that they do and others don't. Follow me?

O.K. the most common uncommon common is this: "Well, that's just common sense!" Hmph, how many times have we heard that? Too many. You know what? It's not true. Common sense ISN'T!!! If it was, we wouldn't have to make the above statement. (I have removed it from my vocabulary completely). The Darwin awards are a perfect example of this. Some highlights from the most recent listings:

Hammer of Doom
(August 2006, Brazil) August brings us a winner from Brazil, who tried to disassemble a Rocket Propelled Grenade (RPG) by driving back and forth over it with a car. This technique was ineffective, so he escalated to pounding the RPG with a sledgehammer. The second try worked--in a sense. The explosion proved fatal to one man, six cars, and the repair shop wherein the efforts took place.
14 more RPG grenades were found in a car parked nearby. Police believe the ammunition was being scavenged to sell as scrap metal. If it wasn't scrap then, it certainly is now!

Want more..."One string short of a kite."
(19 March 2006, Belize) Benjamin Franklin reputedly flew his kite in a lightning storm, going on to discover that lightning equals electricity. However, certain precautions must be taken to avoid sudden electrocution. Kennon, 26, replicated the conditions of Ben Franklin's experiment, but without Ben's sensible safety precautions. Kennon was flying a kite with a short string that he had extended with a length of thin copper wire. The copper made contact with a high-tension line, sending a bolt of electrical lightning towards the man. Just bad luck? Kennon's father told listeners his son was an electrician, and "should have known better."

So, sadly, I feel I've made my case. For more, go check 'em out for yourself @ www.darwinawards.com

I don't know what to call this...

2007-02-23T08:28:00.000-08:00

I hate having to use public restrooms. Even clean ones. They're fine in an emergency or when your bladder has reached super saturation level from holding it for hours, hoping to make it home. (Ladies, I feel really sorry for you...you don't have the benefit of a urinal).

Speaking of urinals, for crying out loud, why are there dudes who just can't seem to hit the target here. It's a friggin' huge porcelain wall-mounted basin hung at approximately the correct height. Missing would seem almost impossible. One would think. So why is it that when I have to pee at work, right in front of the urinal I always find a piddle puddle on the floor?! Look; it's not hard. You step-up. Lean in slightly and pee. Wait for the shake. Stuff the horse back in the barn and move on. Geez! (Again, my sympathies to all you ladies who have these piss-poor shooters as husbands / boyfriends).

Then, there's the stall & toilet. Eh. I found one at work that's always clean. (My company has an excellent janitorial staff). Even so, I use the handicap stall. It's usually cleaner than the rest. Yeah, yeah. Don't criticize me...I've scoped the floor out first. No handicapped people work here. It was installed for building code purposes...get over it. But I digress. I usually go at a certain timeframe. My body is punctual. But here's the thing: I want it quiet. I think there. Yes, think. Not deep thoughts but things like; who I need to telephone, what's for dinner, etc. Nothing disrupts this time of thought more than a guy coming in and squatting in the stall beside me. Yeah, I know, other people have to go. But why at the same time as I? Nevermind. So he's there, but does he have to be noisy? What's with the grunts & heavy sighs and the "ahhhhs," and the panting like giving birth? Then there's the bodily noises. Do you how distracting this all is to thought? Horribly! And then there's the few who ignore the "dude rules" and try to have a conversation. SHUT UP! It's not the place.

Today, I'm looking for a guy with brown shoes and black jeans. That's all I know to recognize of him. Any fella I meet today with whom I may shake hands, I'm checking his shoes and trousers first. Mr noir jeans failed to wash his hands after a dooky...a noisy fella he is as well. The utlimate worst: noisy crapper and unconcerned with hygiene. WTF people?!

It's Just Lacking

2007-02-22T13:02:00.000-08:00

You know what I miss? I miss the ability to just give someone a big ol' slam the phone down hang up! Remember when phones had a receiver attached to the phones main body by a spiral cord? Rotary or push button, it didn't matter. The real appeal was if the person you were talking to annoyed you, you could just hang up on 'em. Yup, just SLAM that receiver right down. BAM!! Oh, and they knew they just got hung up on. There was no mistaking it. People around you knew it too...

With technology today, that distinct crash of the handset on receiver is a thing of the past. A dinosaur. A thing never to be experienced (as giver or recipient) by future generations. Like the 45 LP, it's a thing this generation hasn't a clue.

Just another reason I hate cell phones. Have you ever been frustrated & angry and try to "hang up" on someone with a cell phone? Kind of goes like this: "Oh YEAH?! Well I'm tired of YOU calling and I'm SICK of blah, blah, blah! I don't EVER want to SPEAK TO YOU AGAIN...."

Beep.

That's it. Non climactic. No slam. No crash of heavy plastic on plastic. No reverberating sound waves echoing through the house to broadcast to all that you are angry, annoyed, etc. and the person on the other end is lucky they weren't within arms reach. No, now it's just a brief pause in the boisterous volume of ones shouts to find the "end call" button, a press with the finger and beep. Eh, how boring. Or maybe you just "flip" the phone closed. Yeah, like that's a slam. NOT! The person you were screaming at can't distinguish between your vicious cell phone slam and a dropped call. They're on the other end going: "Hello. Hello. Are you still there?" In the good ol' days, there was no mistakin' a serious slam-the-phone-down hang up. Technology seriously lacks in some very important areas!