A walk around a mountain town...
What wonders a walk will do. You start out with your head spinning. It isn't earth shattering stuff, but just all that life throws at you. The fist five minutes are lost to this distraction called life. Then you start to look around and each step shakes loose the "stuff"(it helps when you are in a mountain town). Twenty minutes in you are just enjoying the warm sun and the fresh air. The "stuff" no longer weighs you down. At this point you can really appreciate all the big and small nuances of nature around you. You don't need to be deep in the woods or on a mountain trail to appreciate these things. If you have grass and trees you have nature and life to observe. Maybe that is just me. I will watch a grasshopper with amusement as it tries to avoid my presence only to land a foot or two up the path and have to do it all over again. I will look at a bat house made by the local elementary school and make a mental note to try to make it back at dusk to witness the mass exodus. These things defragment my brain and renew it for more "stuff". After forty-five minutes I am left walking up the hill back to the house. My legs are feeling the strain and the sun is now hot. I wont complain. Winter is around the corner.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
From the lily pad...
To the dedicated readers of this blog...if you see, "From the lily pad..."in the title of a blog post you will be subjected to the wonderful (read: crazy) thoughts (rantings) of E. Lord knows what we'll see "From the lily pad...", but you know it will be good! Think of it as the only ray of sunshine casting down on our scum covered Pond!
Monday, September 22, 2008
And one more thing...
Did you know that in the business of packing household goods, one always packs a fully-loaded bowling ball bag (think hard, vinyl, two-tone material that zips around a metal skeleton that holds up to one 16 pound bowling ball and a pair of shoes) in it's own box? And we thought they walked off with E's bowling ball! Now that's one to grow on!
Unpacking Your Life
Have you ever had all of your personal belongings packed up and shipped to another locale? In another state? Those of you that read the first post (that might be a grand total of 3 people!) will remember that E and I moved to Wyoming. And we did that move in our personal vehicles with as much crap as we could stuff in them. But, there's no way we were getting ALL of our crap in two vehicles! I mean, really, we've been together for 12 years now...we've accumulated more than two SUV's worth of crap! In fact, we've accumulated more crap than we wanted to shovel ourselves. We left it to the "professionals". Well, in all honesty, we probably would have done it ourselves, but, the company I work for paid to move our stuff. You'd have to be a complete clown (insert the word ass in front of clown for dramatic effect) to want to pack and move all your stuff by yourself. Or, a broke-ass single dude moving out of your parents basement!
So, where was I...oh, yes, the "professionals". My company (no, I don't own it) paid this other company to come to our house in Memphis and "professionally" pack our stuff. Which they did...I guess. After packing, the movers come over and haul it away. Simple formula, really. Unless, that is, you had our "professionals"! Here we are (well, it's not so much "we" as it is "E") unpacking the countless boxes of personal belongings a whole 6 days after it was delivered to our new crib. 6 DAYS! Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot?
Well, let me just ask you this...have you ever had to unwrap every little thing you own? It's painstaking to say the least. Some examples to help paint the picture...instead of leaving your junk drawer in tact, the professionals take every last thing out of the drawer and wrap it in paper. Letters from my lovely, miscellaneous pictures, Yo! MTV Raps playing cards...I mean they grab a handful of your crap and roll it in so much paper you'd think they were in cahoots with the paper companies. I grabbed a paper roll from one of the boxes with no idea what it was and I started to unroll, and unroll, and unroll the next sheet of paper, and unroll, and you get the idea! At the end of it all lie two poker chips, some loose change, a pen, a picture of my parents and wife at Graceland, a now-creased, autographed picture of Bret Bielma (UW Badger head football coach), and the newspaper clipping heralding my Mom's 60th Birthday. I mean, are you kidding me? You couldn't shove the paper stuff in an envelope or padded pack? You just roll it up in a huge paper ball and send it on it's way? Ridiculous!
And so this continues...to this day...in fact there are still boxes left to be opened. Who knows what we'll find? I know I'm still looking for one of my moccasin slippers. I'm sure it's wrapped in ten sheets of paper at the bottom of a Dish Pack. If there is any good that comes from this process it's that you get to look at all the stuff you've accumulated over your entire life. Which isn't so bad I guess seeing as how I got to play a game of Football 2 by Mattel Electronics! You know the one...the little green hand-held football game that takes a 9-volt battery! Rad! As cool as that was I'm still thinking that maybe next time we'd be better served fitting ALL our crap in our own two vehicles and leave the "professionals" out of it. If nothing else, we'd be saving some trees that way!
So, where was I...oh, yes, the "professionals". My company (no, I don't own it) paid this other company to come to our house in Memphis and "professionally" pack our stuff. Which they did...I guess. After packing, the movers come over and haul it away. Simple formula, really. Unless, that is, you had our "professionals"! Here we are (well, it's not so much "we" as it is "E") unpacking the countless boxes of personal belongings a whole 6 days after it was delivered to our new crib. 6 DAYS! Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot?
Well, let me just ask you this...have you ever had to unwrap every little thing you own? It's painstaking to say the least. Some examples to help paint the picture...instead of leaving your junk drawer in tact, the professionals take every last thing out of the drawer and wrap it in paper. Letters from my lovely, miscellaneous pictures, Yo! MTV Raps playing cards...I mean they grab a handful of your crap and roll it in so much paper you'd think they were in cahoots with the paper companies. I grabbed a paper roll from one of the boxes with no idea what it was and I started to unroll, and unroll, and unroll the next sheet of paper, and unroll, and you get the idea! At the end of it all lie two poker chips, some loose change, a pen, a picture of my parents and wife at Graceland, a now-creased, autographed picture of Bret Bielma (UW Badger head football coach), and the newspaper clipping heralding my Mom's 60th Birthday. I mean, are you kidding me? You couldn't shove the paper stuff in an envelope or padded pack? You just roll it up in a huge paper ball and send it on it's way? Ridiculous!
And so this continues...to this day...in fact there are still boxes left to be opened. Who knows what we'll find? I know I'm still looking for one of my moccasin slippers. I'm sure it's wrapped in ten sheets of paper at the bottom of a Dish Pack. If there is any good that comes from this process it's that you get to look at all the stuff you've accumulated over your entire life. Which isn't so bad I guess seeing as how I got to play a game of Football 2 by Mattel Electronics! You know the one...the little green hand-held football game that takes a 9-volt battery! Rad! As cool as that was I'm still thinking that maybe next time we'd be better served fitting ALL our crap in our own two vehicles and leave the "professionals" out of it. If nothing else, we'd be saving some trees that way!
Sunday, September 14, 2008
This year's Ring of Honor?
Those of you that know me well, know that I enjoy my beer. Those of you that hung with E and I in Memphis know that I became a Beerknurd in Memphis, TN. For those of you that are now confused, a Beerknurd is a dedicated patron of a local establishment known as the Flying Saucer.
A Flying Saucer Beerknurd is dedicated to the task of being enshrined in the Ring of Honor. One is enshrined in the Ring only after he/she consumes 200 different beers. At first thought you're probably thinking, "easy". But I challenge you to do the math. 200beers / (divided by) 3 beers per visit (that's right, only 3 beers a night count towards the Ring!) If my math is correct, that's 66.67 trips to the Flying Saucer. So, say you go once a week...it would take you well over a year to get your plate (Beerknurds are driven by a plate...the plate that hangs somewhere along the Ring of Honor once you've consumed all 200 beers.)
Well, I have a plate! It hangs in the downtown, Memphis, TN, Flying Saucer, above the cooler door. Like I said, I like my beer. But, what does that have to do with anything significant? Well, nothing really. We now live in Lander, WY, which is many miles away from Memphis, TN. Beers drank in Lander have no bearing on the Ring of Honor. So, what is a man to do...well, this man will drink beer anyway! In fact, we've probably spent more time in the Lander Bar over the last three weeks than we would have at the Flying Saucer. And as far as I'm concerned, I might as well get some kind of credit for all that hard work or at least be known as a man that enjoys fine beer. With that, I offer you the Mug Club! Lander Bar's version of the Ring of Honor. And E thought we escaped all that...HA!
Enjoy fine beer and I look forward to joining a new fraternity!
Check it out at www.landerbar.com
A Flying Saucer Beerknurd is dedicated to the task of being enshrined in the Ring of Honor. One is enshrined in the Ring only after he/she consumes 200 different beers. At first thought you're probably thinking, "easy". But I challenge you to do the math. 200beers / (divided by) 3 beers per visit (that's right, only 3 beers a night count towards the Ring!) If my math is correct, that's 66.67 trips to the Flying Saucer. So, say you go once a week...it would take you well over a year to get your plate (Beerknurds are driven by a plate...the plate that hangs somewhere along the Ring of Honor once you've consumed all 200 beers.)
Well, I have a plate! It hangs in the downtown, Memphis, TN, Flying Saucer, above the cooler door. Like I said, I like my beer. But, what does that have to do with anything significant? Well, nothing really. We now live in Lander, WY, which is many miles away from Memphis, TN. Beers drank in Lander have no bearing on the Ring of Honor. So, what is a man to do...well, this man will drink beer anyway! In fact, we've probably spent more time in the Lander Bar over the last three weeks than we would have at the Flying Saucer. And as far as I'm concerned, I might as well get some kind of credit for all that hard work or at least be known as a man that enjoys fine beer. With that, I offer you the Mug Club! Lander Bar's version of the Ring of Honor. And E thought we escaped all that...HA!
Enjoy fine beer and I look forward to joining a new fraternity!
Check it out at www.landerbar.com
Friday, September 12, 2008
Westward Ho!
As many of you are aware, M and E packed up their bags and moved to Beverly! Hills that is! Pretty cliche, eh? What can I say, I'm a sucker for old sitcoms. Well, maybe it's that I'm a sucker for old sitcom theme songs. Or, maybe it's just that we moved and I couldn't think of any other way to kick off this post.
At any rate, M and E are no longer residents of the hustling metropolis of Memphis, TN. Approximately three weeks ago, we loaded up two of our vehicles (we own a fleet) with everything we thought we would need to live off of for an indefinite amount of time. Which, I'll have you know, is a bunch of stuff (if you prefer a more descriptive word here, pick one that begins with "sh" and ends with "it"!)
It felt like Deja Vu. Like we had done this before. Oh, that's because we had. We (M and E and a DSH we'll call Whiskers) lived out of a Saturn SL2 when we moved from Green Bay to Austin. We doubled our living quarters when we decided it was time to move east. An Eagle Vision TSI and Chevy Malibu were called upon to be our mobile homes for that move. And when we moved to the hub of the Mid-South we called our Honda Element home. We've spent more time living out of a car than an aspiring (read: starving) actress trying to make her way in Hollywood. Or, if you remember, that one girl in high school....well, um, never mind...that's another post!
But this time was different. We were going farther. We were moving out West. You need more stuff. To be specific, you need a Jeep Grand Cherokee and Honda Element stuffed to the gills with all your personal belongings. All the stuff you don't want the moving thugs to mistreat or lose. So, you pack all the important stuff...the guns, the golf clubs and the wet bar! Oh, and you make sure to pack your significant other and Whiskers. I mean, c'mon, what would a cross country trip be without the loves of your life on board? Like I said, I had my guns, clubs and whiskey so as long as there was still room, I thought, "What the heck, bring the girls."
So, it's been Deja Vu all over, again (hence the words Deja Vu), for us, only this time we had all of the essentials. With GS (I think that's CSI for gun shot) residue on our hands , whiskey on our breath, dreams of mountainous golf courses and the sweet aroma of feline waste deposits in the air, we set sail for the wide open spaces of the great American West. And you know something? We made it! We're here, in Cowboy Country, living out of our suitcases and cardboard boxes. But, we're loving it. The air is clean, the views are endless and Whiskers is regular again (which is a relief, because when she's off a little, it stinks a lot!) And so we've arrived, to this new chapter in our lives.
And now that I come to think of it, I'm not really an old sitcom fan at all (well, unless it's Threes Company...that's some funny _____!) In fact, I think that Hillbillies theme song is pretty stupid. But, I can tell you this...with my guns, clubs, bar and girls, I can travel the world! I feel like that ol' bastard, Jed Clampett, after he shot at that food...except there's no bubbling crude...I'm just fortunate to be living a dream...hell, I'm a millionaire!
At any rate, M and E are no longer residents of the hustling metropolis of Memphis, TN. Approximately three weeks ago, we loaded up two of our vehicles (we own a fleet) with everything we thought we would need to live off of for an indefinite amount of time. Which, I'll have you know, is a bunch of stuff (if you prefer a more descriptive word here, pick one that begins with "sh" and ends with "it"!)
It felt like Deja Vu. Like we had done this before. Oh, that's because we had. We (M and E and a DSH we'll call Whiskers) lived out of a Saturn SL2 when we moved from Green Bay to Austin. We doubled our living quarters when we decided it was time to move east. An Eagle Vision TSI and Chevy Malibu were called upon to be our mobile homes for that move. And when we moved to the hub of the Mid-South we called our Honda Element home. We've spent more time living out of a car than an aspiring (read: starving) actress trying to make her way in Hollywood. Or, if you remember, that one girl in high school....well, um, never mind...that's another post!
But this time was different. We were going farther. We were moving out West. You need more stuff. To be specific, you need a Jeep Grand Cherokee and Honda Element stuffed to the gills with all your personal belongings. All the stuff you don't want the moving thugs to mistreat or lose. So, you pack all the important stuff...the guns, the golf clubs and the wet bar! Oh, and you make sure to pack your significant other and Whiskers. I mean, c'mon, what would a cross country trip be without the loves of your life on board? Like I said, I had my guns, clubs and whiskey so as long as there was still room, I thought, "What the heck, bring the girls."
So, it's been Deja Vu all over, again (hence the words Deja Vu), for us, only this time we had all of the essentials. With GS (I think that's CSI for gun shot) residue on our hands , whiskey on our breath, dreams of mountainous golf courses and the sweet aroma of feline waste deposits in the air, we set sail for the wide open spaces of the great American West. And you know something? We made it! We're here, in Cowboy Country, living out of our suitcases and cardboard boxes. But, we're loving it. The air is clean, the views are endless and Whiskers is regular again (which is a relief, because when she's off a little, it stinks a lot!) And so we've arrived, to this new chapter in our lives.
And now that I come to think of it, I'm not really an old sitcom fan at all (well, unless it's Threes Company...that's some funny _____!) In fact, I think that Hillbillies theme song is pretty stupid. But, I can tell you this...with my guns, clubs, bar and girls, I can travel the world! I feel like that ol' bastard, Jed Clampett, after he shot at that food...except there's no bubbling crude...I'm just fortunate to be living a dream...hell, I'm a millionaire!
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