Some Interesting (But Probably Uninteresting) Things

Umm.....

2011-10-27T10:03:00.002-04:00

I was at the Mall of Georgia yesterday measuring a wall. The wall was over 50 ft long, and the tape measure I had wasn't half that distance, so I would have to measure as far as I could, mark my spot, then measure again from the mark, and so on and so on until I knew the total width. When I neared the end of the wall, I had somewhere between 6 and 8 feet left to measure, so I held the end of the tape measure out, hoping to hook the end of it to the end of the wall. The tape measure kept giving out under its weight and falling limply to the ground. After the third try, I was about to give up and try a different method, when an older man happened to be walking by. He picked up the end of the tape measure and hooked it to the wall, thus allowing me to get my final measurement.

I thanked him, and I thought that was going to be it. His response - He slapped me on my butt and then - holding out a limp, droopy finger - said "Yeah, that tape measure reminded me of ma' dick".

Nice old man to creepy old man in 1.5 seconds. That has to be some kind of a record, right?

Rumble at the beach

2011-07-19T08:19:00.008-04:00

Sorry kids, it's a long one...

Last week we had our annual Swanson Family Vacation. Almost every year I have been a part of the family, we have gone to Myrtle Beach, SC. This year, however, we decided to do things a little differently. Instead of the 4 bedroom condo in MBSC, we went with a house in Destin, FL. This house, coincidentally, is about a mile and a half from where Kimberly and I stayed on our honeymoon (awwww).

This story isn't about the vacation as a whole, though. This story is about our first 5 hours in Destin.

We arrived at the house at 3:30 pm on Saturday. Kimberly's dad (Kent) and the homeowner had established that we would arrive between 2:00 and 4:00. When we pulled up, we were surprised to find three cars and a number of beach chairs in the driveway. Standing there a little confused, we tried to understand what exactly was happening. Kent called the homeowner, who actually lived in a second building that was attached to the house by a walkway. Within moments he was standing in the driveway with us, and this was his story:

Guys, I'm so sorry. We had a huge storm, and the electricity has been out all day and actually just now came back on. The people in the house right now are packing up and they should be out soon. Then we'll go through and clean, and we'll get you right in.

A little weird, but okay. I mean, why would the power being out delay the departure of the previous residents by hours?

It was around this time (Kent, Rosary, Andy, and I were standing in the driveway with the homeowner) that we turned around to see 5-6 people in swimsuits walking up the street. They walked past us in the driveway, up the stairs and into the house. Our house. These people didn't look like they were getting ready to go anywhere. The homeowner (Keith) by this point had stepped out into the street and was trying to (or attempting to look like he was trying to) call someone and get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, a couple of people came out of the house and were talking to Rosary. They explained to her that no, they were not leaving. They had signed a contract and paid Keith to stay an extra day, leaving Sunday. If this is true, then we (nine of us, including three children ages 6, 3, and 2) have nowhere to stay for the night.

When presented with the news of what the residents said, Keith responded with a disgusted look on his face - "No, that's not true! They never signed a contract to stay an extra day!" It should be noted throughout the duration of this ordeal, Kent had his signed contract, along with copies of all correspondance with Keith, in hand. For reasons we couldn't really discern, Keith just wasn't walking over to the other residents and giving them the boot.

By this time, almost an hour had passed. Keith was going back and forth between us, the other reesidents, and his cell phone. There was no resolution in sight. He just kept pacing, looking nervous, and going back to his story about the power being out. Despite the other residents' insistence that they had signed a contract to stay an extra day, they were yet to produce actual proof of this. They seemed like nice enough people at the time. When we had been there for a while, Ashlyn had to go potty, so the let us in to use the bathroom. Also, they brought out popsicles for the kids - it was freaking hot outsite! On the surface, it appeared that Keith had double-booked, and even if it was an honest mistake, the situation was his fault. Also, during a conversation with these people, Rosary was told that the house was not really up to snuff. Of the 5 or 6 TV's in the house, only two of them actually worked - plus Keith was really strange and had people coming and going constantly during the week, and at one point, he actually knocked on the door and asked them to give him a ride to the store (all of these claims were found later to be grossly exaggerated).

At this point, Keith told us if we can just go out for a little while, check out the things to do in Destin and just mill around, everything would be resolved by the time we got back. Kent told him we'd give him two hours, and we walked across the street to the beach. Well, all of us but one. Rosary wasn't having any of it. She parked herself on the curb and waited for the resolution.
We sat on the pavilion by the beach for a while - I have no idea how long. We kept the kids entertained with sno cones. Finally, Kent got a call from Rosary. The previous residents were being kicked out and currently huffing and puffing and hastily throwing their things into the car.

By this time I'm guessing it was around 6:00 pm. This was good news in that we no longer were worried with the possibility that we may have to go out and find a hotel for 9 people for the night (maybe longer, who knows). The downside was that the house still had to be cleaned before we moved in. The cleaning crew had been contacted and was on their way. They arrived promptly and got started. At that point Kimberly, Kristen, and Rosary went to the grocery store while Andy and I put swimsuits on the kids and headed to the beach killing more time until the house was actually ready to be occupied.

At last, sometime between 8:30 and 9:00, the cleaning crew was gone. The groceries, some Domino's pizza, 6 adults, and three children, and all their luggage were in the house. The only real casualties were 5 hours of the afternoon and the key to the neighborhood pool (which we believe was taken by the previous residents - Keith got us a new key a few days into the vacation).

THE EXPLANATION

Keith definitely seemed a little "off" in our conversations with him. We learned that about ten years ago, his fiance, twin brother, (and father? - I can't remember) were killed in a plane crash. That apparently gave him some emotional and psycholocial problems that he is still dealing with. Additionally, three years ago, he was in a motorcycle accident in which he suffered some form of brain damage. Before all of this, he was apparently a really bright guy who earned a lot of money from an invention having to do with microderm abrasion (not sure exactly what).

He really is a nice guy. What likely happened was that he felt so bad about the power going out, that he told the people they could stay for a little while longer, probably meaning a few hours. They took it as "Stay as long as you want". From what I heard over the course of the week, this group of people are among a larger number of people who have tried to take advantage of Keith's situation over the years. They were completely willing to use that guy's courtesy to them as a tool to essentially force a family of nine to either make other arrangements at a much larger cost or turn around and drive 7 hours back home (which actually was discussed at one point).

But, everything turned out quite well. After the first day's conflict, the rest of the week went without a hitch (with the exception of the mishap involving my dog back home, but that's another story for another day).

Funny side note, later in the week I had a conversation with Keith and Sonya (a woman he referred to as his manager). Keith, again, was profusely apologizing for everything that transpired on the first day. I told him not to worry and that everything is fine now, and we love the house. We discussed what time on Saturday we would be packing up and leaving. Sonya mentioned that Kent had told her 10:00. I said that it will likely even be earlier than that. Keith's reply was "Oh, well, I mean, stay longer if you'd like! The next people aren't coming in until late, and as long as we have just a little while to go through and clean, you guys are welcome to make yourselves at home for as long as you want!"

It's a good thing we're nice people...

Blasphemy!

2011-07-07T13:44:00.002-04:00

I have two confessions to make. One I will make now, and the other I will make momentarily.

Confession #1: I'm a huge baseball fan (gasp!)
I know, I know. I have hidden it so well for all these years, right? I'm one of these guys that just finds something pure, something beautiful within the game. It doesn't even have to be a Braves game (obviously my team of choice). If there isn't a Braves game on, I'd gladly watch two other teams duke it out. Earlier in the spring, I took Cohen to a game between the Georgia Bulldogs and the Alabama Crimson Tide, despite not liking either team (or school), just because it was my first chance of the year at seeing real, live baseball.

I have been somewhat of a "Baseball Purist" for most of my life. I didn't want to mess with tradition. Lately, though, I have had a revelation of sorts. I was watching the Blue Jays and Red Sox play - both American League teams.

Okay, before I go any further, I will (try to) breifly explain for anyone who doesn't follow baseball at all. Just to be safe, I'll give the "for dummies" version. Major League Baseball is divided into two leagues - National and American. There are few real differences between the two, but there is one glaring difference: the Designated Hitter (DH). The American League uses the DH, and the National League (in which the Braves play) does not. The DH takes the place of the pitcher in the batting lineup. Therefore, the pitchers do not bat. The DH is usually a player whose defense isn't necessarily up to snuff, but who is still a good batter. A lot of fans (Purists) are adamantly against the idea of the DH, if for no other reason, because it flies in the face of baseball tradition. It changes the rules that have always been in place for the sake of making the game more exciting.

Anyway, I was watching the Jays and Red Sox play a few days ago. It was starting to look like a blowout. After 3 innings, the Jays were up 7-0. Then, the Red Sox started to come back. Going into the 9th, the Jays had a 9-7 lead. I wondered what part of the lineup was coming up, and whether the pitcher's spot was soon in the lineup, and then it occurred to me - there is no pitcher's spot in the lineup. These lineups were both loaded with offense. It made for a very exciting 9th inning.

Then it hit me. Other than an unreasonable sense of wanting to hold on to something "because it's what we've always done", what good reason is there to not have that same thing in the National League?

Confession #2: I'm in favor of the DH
It almost hurts to say that. I've been against it my whole life, but I can't deny it anymore. First off, it makes the game more exciting, plain and simple. Literally, it's the idea of taking your worst hitter out of the lineup and replacing him with a much better hitter. What's not to like?
Secondly, it is simply a proven fact that Major League pitchers cannot hit as well as position players. I do not know why. My assumption is that they spend all their time concentrating on pitching, and neglect hitting. Regardless of the reasoning, the DH rule has proven to be a good thing in the American League since it was adopted in 1973.

Whew. There, I said it. I really feel better. I know I'm going to catch a lot of flack from my baseball purist fans, but I think I'm prepared to deal with it.

Now, if we could only increase the use of instant replay....(dun dun dunnnn!)

Cruise Blog 2: The food

2011-06-16T14:15:00.004-04:00

Everything I ate over the course of the cruise was good. Everything, from the dining room to the buffet upstairs, to the pizza bar.

Every morning, we headed up to the buffet for breakfast - Scrambled eggs, omelettes, bacon, sausage, waffles, pancakes, oatmeal, grits, donuts, bagels, English muffins, toast, cereal, fruit. Really, anything a person would normally want for breakfast was available. Oh yeah, and baked beans(?).

At lunch, I think the buffet changed it up a little from day to day. I know there were various chicken and pork options. Plus there was the guy carving beef every day. There were always coldcuts available for sandwiches. There was a decent selection of sides, breads, and desserts, too. None of this mattered to me, though. They had a hamburger bar. And the burgers (and hot dogs) were good. That being said, I really had a hamburger and a hot dog every day for lunch...with the exception of our day at Coco Cay, where I had a hamburger, a hot dog, and a couple of pork ribs. The fries were amazing, too. Thicker than McDonalds, but thinner than Five Guys. Crispy as crispy can be. Delicious.

Dinner was the star of the show, though. The atmosphere was very nice and upscale, and the food reflected that. I don't remember what dishes I had on what night, but over the course of the week, I had lamb, roasted duck, escargot, shrimp and mahi mah...wait, what? Escargot?

Yes, I ate snails. Actually, we all ate snails. They were served in a delicious garlicy, buttery, crusty goodness. Kimberly first bit the bullet by ordering it as an appetizer. When our waiter saw that we were all trying it, he took it upon himself to bring each of us an order of our own. I'm pretty sure every last bit of it was eaten.

Please note above that our waiter took the liberty of bringing us all extra dishes. This was common throughout the week. If you couldn't decide between the steak and the shrimp, well, just order both! It's all included in the price we already paid. Two appetizers? No problem. Two entrees? Go ahead!

One would think that you'd gain a lot of weight on a cruise. I'm not going to lie, it is entirely possible, but 1) While there was a good bit of lounging on this trip, there was also a good bit of walking. We took the stairs more often than the elevators, and 2) We danced. A lot. Good exercise.

So, to wrap it up, the food could not have been better.

Next time I'll get into the people we encountered on this trip. There were quite a few characters.

Cruise Blog 1

2011-06-13T17:50:00.006-04:00

Kimberly and I just finished a 4 night Bahamas cruise with Kristen (Kimberly's sister) and Andy (Kristen's husband). There were enirely too many cool/fun/hilarious things about the trip to put into one blog post, so I'll break it up into sections. First section will be the ship:

From my understanding, the Monarch of the Seas is small in comparison to other ships. It houses about 2,000 guests (along with the 800 crew members). I have heard that other ships hold around 4,000 to 5,000 guests. Regardless, having never been on a cruise, I was still impressed by it. Most of the ship had 11 floors, with the exception of one end, which went up to the 14th floor, where a circular bar could be found.

In the middle of the ship was a large, multi-floor lobby. From this lobby, one could easily reach the dining rooms, the collection of duty-free stores, the casino, and the piano bar.

The staterooms were nice. Small, like everyone told me they would be, but nice nonetheless. No difference - we were rarely in our room. It had two beds that had already been slid together to make one queen-size bed, an adequate closet, a tiny bathroom, a tiny TV, and that's about it.

There were two pools on the (second from the) top deck. Both were saltwater pools that we learned were filled with ocean water pumped through a filtering system. We spent most of the pool time lounging on the balcony deck that overlooked the pools.

There were two clubs: Boleros and The Circuit. Boleros was where the bulk of the people hung out. It was where most of the games, karaoke, and dance lessons were held. The Circuit was more the late-night dance club. If one has enough to drink and lets go of the concept of embarrassment, one can have a really good time dancing at The Circuit. That party usually started around 11:00pm and was still going strong at 2:00 or 3:00 when we decided to turn in for the night.

There were two main dining rooms (that I know of). Each party generally was assigned one of the two. There was also the Windjammer Cafe next to the pool that housed a buffet that was open almost all the time, only closing overnight and shortly between meals to prepare for the next meal. Inside the Windjammer was also a Pizza bar that was open just about any time someone had a hankering for pizza. It should be noted that the Windjammer had a soft serve ice cream machine, and I never knew until this week how much people LOVE soft serve ice cream. There was almost ALWAYS a line.
The food - ALL of the food - was good. I'll get into that in another post, though.

That I'm aware of (there are probably more that I never saw or that I don't remember), there were no fewer than 9 bars. In addition, there was ALWAYS a server walking around that was more than willing to bring you a drink. If one wanted a beverage of any kind, one would never have to wait more than about 5 minutes. Alcohol was extra, but when you aren't paying for food, it doesn't seem that bad.

I'd really like to try another ship next time, but to be honest, my experience on this one was so good that I don't want to mess with a good thing. We'll see, though, as my wheels are already turning for making another cruise happen.

Play it cool, Daniel

2011-04-07T13:02:00.002-04:00

I was riding at the park yesterday, minding my own business*. I had just climbed a hill of medium difficulty and was enjoying the fruits of my labor (read: getting to go really fast down the other side of said hill), when ahead of me is a cute girl....

Before I go any further, let me explain. I'm not some sleazeball who ogles other women despite the fact that I'm married. When I'm riding at the park, there are women all around. Some are cute, and some are not-so-cute. It makes no difference to me, though, because I just pass them and keep on riding, no big deal.

...anyway

So, ahead of me was a cute girl. I have no intentions of trying to impress this girl. I just want to ride past her and go about my way. BUT, while I have no intentions of trying to impress her, I most certainly do not want to make an ass out of myself in front of her. As I'm starting my "I-recognize-you-are-of-above-average-attractiveness-but-sorry-you're-nowhere-near-as-hot-as-my-wife-so-I'm-going-to-make-it-evident-that-you're-no-big-deal-in-my-mind-and-I'll-go-about-my-business" routine (which takes about 1/10 of the time to act out as it did to type), the girl and I got closer to passing each other. About 15 feet away from each other, I prepared for my .2 second eye contact and courtesy nod (which I offer to everyone - man, woman, cute, or uncute). Just by chance, during that 1/5 of a second, THWAPP! A larger-than-average bug smacked me dead-center on my forehead.

I have no idea what kind of bug this was, but it was big. And it made me freak out and instinctively start slapping at my forehead like an idiot, right as I passed the girl. Then, about 20 feet (or, about half a second) later, the bug was gone and I finished my ride, having failed in my attempt to "play it cool" for the girl I had no intention of impressing in the first place. The entire episode had lasted, beginning to end, about 4-5 seconds.

*Minding my own business, plus minding the business of the path-hog, unaware, completely ovlivious to the fact that the line painted down the middle of the path indicates that the path is to be treated like a road (STAY ON YOUR SIDE!) walkers

Cohen's new jam.

2011-03-22T08:28:00.002-04:00

Pibe lil muntnee jutt mon bed
Un fall opp...bupp nis add
Mamma taw dot tow, dot tow sad
Noma muntee jutt mon bed!

Daniel and Cohen: Boys of Summer

2011-03-10T18:04:00.002-05:00

Last night was my monthly Father/Son night (the night when Kimberly has dinner with school friend(s), and I get to hang out with the kid). Normally, we just lay low at the house, doing our normal, nightly thing, sans mommy.

Over the past few weeks I've seen a sign at CoolRay Field (home of the Gwinnett Braves) advertising SEC Baseball on March 9th. UGA would be hosting Alabama in the first annual "Gwinnett Spring Classic" (or something). I decided on a whim that (against Kimberly's recommendation), I would take Cohen to the game - at least for a little while - to see how he likes it and gauge whether he'd be able to handle more games as the real baseball season goes on.

Kid freaking loved it.

Granted, we were only there for two innings (trial basis, plus bedtime, plus it was cold), but after a batter or two, he was really getting into it. After every pitch, he'd throw his hands up and yell "STRIKE!". After every ball hit, fair or foul, he pointed and said "WHOA!", then he'd spend the next 15-20 seconds telling me that the batter hit the ball and informing me where the ball went. He clapped when our team (we chose Bama) did well, and repeated my "Aww, man!", when something didn't go our way.

He didn't want to leave, but being the responsible parent that I am, I insisted that we hit the road at 7:45. We were home by 8:00, and he was bathed, pajama'd, teethbrushed and in bed by 8:30.

The night was a total success, and I cannot wait to take him to countless more games...specifically over the course of this summer, but more importantly, over the course of his childhood.

This is going to be our thing.

Cohen to English Dictionary

2011-02-07T08:27:00.007-05:00

My friend Lily (whose awesome blog can be read at bilslandfamily.blogspot.com) just put up a post translating some of the things her boys say. It was pretty funny, and I realized that my son has a few of those as well. Whereas Lily's translations were more in the line of five-year-old speak (getting some words confused with other words, completely made up words and phrases and their meanings, etc.), my translations will be from the distorted, "Cohen version" of the word to the actual word. Cohen is trying to say the real word, however two-year-olds can often be difficult (if not impossible) to understand.

1. Thatty - Daddy

2. Nomine - Snowman

3. Tawww - Car

4. Bee Tutt - Big Truck

5. Aaaa-poot-nat - Fruit Snacks

6. Seet - Sixx (our cat)

7. Thhhhhe The - CC (our dog)

8. Ahbe Ite Batt - I'll Be Right Back (accompanied by holding up one finger as if to say "wait a minute"). This statement is used if he's the one leaving the room, as well as if someone else is leaving the room.

9. Wess - Yes

10. Bah (sometimes "Bobby") - Pacifier (I don't get this one. No one ever called it a Bah. We always referred to it as his paci. I still do, however Kimberly has now started playing along and referring to it as his bah. Hopefully this translation will not be necessary for much longer, as the kid need to get off that thing)

11. Nowan - Cohen

12. Ah deet nown - I get down (while I'd love to tell you this is a description of his dancing ability, it is actually what he says when he'd like help getting down from his chair at the dinner table, or if someone is holding him)

13. Dat moine! - That's mine! (which actually translates to "Would you please give that to me?", regardless of whether the object in question actually belongs to him)

14. Aff - Elephant

15. Line - Lion

16. Line - Tiger

17. Thatty, deet opp! - Daddy, get up (this is usually in the middle of my eating dinner, and he wants me to stop doing that and play in his room).

18. Raaaawwww - The sound of a lion, tiger, bear, allitagor, shark (accompanied by holding both hands up as claws)

19. Seet deet me - Sixx got me (this is used to describe any cut or bruise he may have, regardless of whether Sixx actually got him, or if he fell down, or bumped his head, or just about anything)

A lot of these are starting to dwindle away, as he is starting to pronounce things better at a surprising rate. I guess this is a good thing, but I kind of like being able to figure out and translate (most of) his jibberish.

Okay, Paul. Let's do this.

2011-01-31T16:17:00.004-05:00

I just heard "50 Ways To Leave Your Lover", by Paul Simon.

I don't know where to begin to describe how full of crap this song is. I guess I'll just start with the obvious. The chorus states:

You Just slip out the back, Jack
Make a new plan, Stan
You don't need to be coy, Roy
Just get yourself free
Hop on the bus, Gus
You don't need to discuss much
Just drop off the key, Lee
And get yourself free

50 Ways? I'd like to consider myself atleast slightly above average in everyday math, but by my first count, that was only five, Paul. Actually, the number is up for discussion. For example:

1. Slip out the back, Jack. Okay, that's one way.
2. Make a new plan, Stan. Is that really a way to leave your lover? Make a new plan? I don't think it is. That's just kind of stating the obvious. If you want to leave your lover, you are already making a new plan. Let's try #2 again:
2. You don't need to be coy, Roy. Nope, that's not a way to leave your lover, either.
2. Just get yourself free. It's a stretch, but since the initial guidelines are a little loose to begin with, I'll run with it. Okay, "Get yourself free" will be allowed.
3. Hop on the bus, Gus. Okay, you could do that.
4. Just drop off the key, Lee. That is acceptable, as well.

Okay, we have four ways to leave your lover. It should be noted that what we counted as (the already deemed questionable) "Way number 2" is repeated at the end of the chorus.

On to my next problem: All of these "ways to leave your lover" are really just ways to leave...anything. I needed to get home from school, so I hopped on the bus. I moved out of my apartment, so I dropped off the key. This song claims that there are all these ways to leave your lover, but I contend that they're just ways to get yourself from one place to another. He might as well have said that ways to leave your lover include: car, bicycle, on foot, horseback, roller skates, etc.

I guess that wouldn't have been as catchy.

Finally, (and admittedly, facetiously), it seems that these ways aren't just for anyone. Slipping out the back is apparently only applicable to guys named Jack. If I want to hop on the bus, I'm out of luck, because my name is Daniel. I just find it hard to believe that Paul Simon, great, heralded American songwriter Paul Simon, would write such silliness simply for the purpose of making his chorus rhyme.

So, we're left with four suggestions of ways to leave your lover, not the advertised fifty. Additionally, only one of the four is applicable to everyone, whereas the other three are name-specific. The only one that applies to all of us is "Just get yourself free".

That's what you've got for me, Paul? You come at me claiming you have fifty ways to leave my lover, and I'm left with one vague suggestion?

I think I'll stick with "Call Me Al", where I can't understand the lyrics enough to disect them.

Boy, I sure hope (insert year) is better than (insert previous year)!

2010-12-15T17:10:00.002-05:00

I've noticed this on Facebook over the past few years. Every December, people start putting up their "I sure hope next year is better than this last year!" as their status updates. In 2009, everyone was hoping it would be better than their 2008's. Same goes for the dawn of 2010. If I would have believed the hype as 2010 was approaching, I would have thought that 2009 may have been the worst year in history. It seemed like almost everybody was complaining about their 2009 like it was the worst thing that had ever happened to them. I have a couple of responses to this.

First off - If the previous year was so bad for you, it's up to you to make the next year better. Granted, I know that a lot of bad things happen to people that are beyond our control. But how one feels and reacts to adversity is all a matter of perception. Kimberly and I tried unsuccessfully to get pregnant through the better part of 2007. We failed numerous times, despite fertility drugs and procedures. However, as 2008 started, we didn't count 2007 as a failure. We didn't say "I sure hope 2008 is better than 2007...what an awful year 2007 was". We just looked forward to the next year in hopes that our efforts would be fruitful. It's all how you choose to look at things.

Secondly - It seems like it's the same people that are posting these things every year. Even if I did believe in the concept of a "bad year", are these people having a "bad three years"? I doubt it. I bet these people are just looking at bad things that happened over the course of these years and deciding that these things will be the focal point of their memory. Did nothing good happen during these three years? I bet it did.

I guess everything goes back to my first point. Be positive. In 2009, our septic system shut down, and we had to completely replace it. It ran in the neighborhood of $10,000 that we had to split between two credit cards. As a result, our monthly credit card statements are still outrageous. We're still feeling the aftershocks of that hit to our finances, and it'll be a loooooong time before that's all paid off. I don't by any means think that 2009 was a bad year, though.

Like I said before, I know things happen that are beyond our control. Things we'd like to forget or have never lived through. These things happen, though. It's up to us as to how we react to them and how we move on.

That being said...I hope 2011 is just as good as 2010, but better than 1978 (because if 1978 was better, I will be bummed that I missed it by not being born yet)

Thirty Something

2010-12-08T16:36:00.001-05:00

A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself.

Dear Daniel,
I don't think you're dopey.

Love, Daniel.

Twenty-Nine is mighty fine

2010-12-08T08:33:00.003-05:00

Something you hope to change about yourself. And Why.

It's stupid, but here it is. Every fast food place has combo meals. They generally consist of a sandwich, fries, and a drink. Of course, one has the option of upsizing this combo to include a large fries and drink as well.

Going back to my "I'm a super-big guy who doesn't care about my weight" days, I used to have the idea stuck in my head that the average combo meal didn't really apply to me. I would get the meal. I would upsize it (of course), and then, just because it wasn't "enough" for me, I'd throw in an extra sandwich...you know, for good measure.

I apologize...I'm speaking in the past-tense, which is inaccurate. I still do this. Given all of my work I've done to lose weight - all the miles I put on the bike and all the hours I put in at the gym, I still refuse to believe that the standard combo meal is enough for me.

McDonalds - Number 10 Value Meal, large fries and drink, plus a double-cheeseburger.
Wendy's - 3 orders of 5-piece nuggets, plus a jr. bacon cheeseburger.
Five Guys - Five Guys is the worst - A bacon cheese dog, plus a large order of fries (if you aren't familiar with the Five Guys fries situation - a regular order might as well be two orders...the large order is insanely too much for one person...probably two). Then, if that wasn't enough...they have awesome grilled cheese sandwiches, too. Well, I have to throw in one of those, since they're so good.

Basically, I eat waaaaaaay too much. I need to change it. Problem is, my body is used to that amount, so when I don't eat that much (or even when I do sometimes), I still feel hungry just an hour or two after eating it.

I have maintained my weight loss, surprisingly, but in the past month and a half, I have not lost any more. I still have 30-40 pounds to go, and if I would just take this simple step of eating portions that I should have, that would certainly help.

Makes me mad about myself.

Twenty-Eight Days Later

2010-12-01T08:13:00.003-05:00

What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?

Look...I try to be a good person. I generally live with the consequences of my decisions. In this situation, though, I just don't know if I could handle it. I'm just not ready for that kind of responsibility. I think I'd have to split. I'd probably move out of state and pretend that it never happened. I'm sure my wife would be upset, since we've been married six years and already have one kid, but I just don't think I can handle two, you know?

Twenty-Seven (things)

2010-11-30T12:07:00.004-05:00

What's the best thing going for you right now?

Dang...what's not going for me right now? As evidenced by the above title, I will just make a list. Let's say, oh, twenty-seven things that I have "going for me right now"

1. I have an awesome wife who takes care of me.
2. I have an awesome kid who makes me laugh daily.
3. I have a house that I love, not to mention that is centrally located within a convenient distance of everything I need.
4. I see family every day.
5. Both of our cars work just fine at the moment.
6. I have a good job that I've held for a long time.
7. My current bosses are great, flexible, and fun.
8. I will soon have new bosses, and I'm excited about the potential growth of the business (well, like 65 percent excited, 35 percent worried).
9. All of our Christmas decorations are already up.
10. I see most of my friends on a regular basis.
11. I'm in a band that is still fun to play in.
12. As a result of playing in this band and being challenged to learn very difficult songs, I am an exponentially better musician than I used to be. I feel like I would be comfortable taking on just about any project that came my way (not that any are, but still...). I like that I'm still loose and not rusty at playing my instrument.
13. I play weekly pick-up hockey with my buddies, which is great fun.
14. My mom is so awesome that she watches Cohen and Martha every day.
15. My dad always has the exact advice I need, be it about car maintenance, home upkeep, or anything else.
16. I have great relationships with my brother (who I laugh with every time I see him) and my sister (who stays in constant contact with me, basically throughout every day).
17. The Falcons are 9-2.
18. The Braves just signed Dan Uggla.
19. While Kimberly and I are not wealthy by any means, we make enough to pay our bills, which can sometimes be overwhelming.
20. I'm making positive strides in becoming healthier.
21. Um, it sounds pretty cheesy, but I feel that Cohen has a really cool dad, and Kimberly has a really cool husband. Some of Kimberly's teacher friends and their kids can't necessarily say that about their husbands/fathers, who may or may not be rednecks or dorks.
22. I have a ton of customers who insist on dealing exclusively with me because they like my work, which is always nice for the ol' self esteem.
23. I live a 97 percent drama-free life.
24. I live literally 3.5 miles from the stadium of a minor league baseball team, which happens to be a farm team for my favorite major league team (I also get to make player locker nameplates for some of the players who will eventually be Cohen's sports heroes).
25. I have a gym membership that only costs $5 a month...I get waaaaay more than my money's worth on that one.
26. I'm pretty sure Cohen's favorite word is "Daddy"
27. Last but certainly not least, I get to see Kimberly naked on a daily basis. Living. The. Dream.

Wow...it really wasn't nearly as hard to come up with this list as I thought it would be. When it comes down to it, I guess I really can't complain about much of anything. I'm incredibly happy. I have everything I need (tangible and intangible) plus a ton of stuff that I don't necessarily need, but want.

And yesterday's question was asking me about giving up on life!

Twenty-Six*

2010-11-29T15:36:00.005-05:00

Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?

I think about it yearly...when baseball season comes to an end. I just can't handle the despair that comes along with knowing that I'm going to have to wait another six months for the next season to begin.

Seriously, though...I never have. I cannot think of a scenario outside of a 100% terminal illness that would make me want to give up on life. And even then, that would only be if I have progressed to the point where there is ABSOLUTELY no chance left, and the pain is ABSOLUTELY unbearable.

I've always been a "glass is half full" kind of guy.

*I am unable to come up with any kind of pop culture reference having to do with the number twenty-six. If you think of one I missed, please plug it in and pretend that it's the title of this blog post.

In The Year Twenty-Five Twenty-Five

2010-11-24T11:00:00.003-05:00

The reason you believe you're still alive today.

I used to hang out at this river which sprung from a lake. I knew this river. I knew the lake. I was used to the river and lake. One day, I started at the lake and went down the river...farther than I had ever been before. The rapids became a little rougher than I liked, but I kept going. After a while, I saw in the distance what appeared to be the river simply disappearing in a cloud of mist. As I got closer, I realized that I was approaching a pretty significant waterfall. I went close to the edge. I wanted to go over the waterfall. I thought of the thrill of falling into the unknown. How far was the drop? How deep was the water at the bottom? I wanted so badly to do it. I was about to do it. I wanted to have it my way...or nothing at all. Right before I chased that waterfall to my certain death, I remembered the wise words of T-Boz, Chili, and Left Eye. I realized that I was moving too fast, so I turned back and stuck to the river. And the lake. That I'm used to.

Quick break from answering questions...

2010-11-21T11:30:00.002-05:00

I actually have something to talk about without being prompted by a list of questions today!

The Last Chucks are in the studio this weekend. A real-live, big boy studio, with soundproofing, a control room, and everything. Despite having recorded maybe about 45-50 songs in my life, this is my first time doing anything in a real, professional studio. This is also our first time recording anything since May of 2008, when we recorded three songs over the course of a weekend. We're doing three days (Saturday, Sunday, Monday), and trying to get seven songs done. If you know how recording works (and if you know Mike), this would sound very daunting, and possibly undoable. This is a quick run-down of how recording works...or at least how we do it.

Day 1: (After a few hours of setting up, getting levels right, getting bass sound right, etc.)Drums are priority number one. All three of us play together, and all three of us are recording what we play. The guitar is basically just a scratch track, used for reference later, when the guitar is actually tracked. The bass can go either way. If a take is good on drums, we keep it. If a take is good on drums and bass, well, that's just a bonus. With our time limitations, we have to finish all the drums in one day, so they take precedence. If I mess up on bass, but the drums are good, we move on, and I re-track the bass later.

Day 2: Guitars are king. Goose and I actually won't be in the studio at all today. Today is all Mike. He's starting around noon and basically playing guitar all day. This will kill his fingers. I know this because after 6 hours of bass last night, it hurts to type right now. I washed my hands with warm water today, and my left index finger stung at the warmth of the water. And don't even get me started about the blister on my right thumb!

Day 3: Vocals, remaining bass, extras. While day two will have killed Mike's fingers, day three will kill his voice. He will be singing basically all day. I will be doing a lot of backup vocals, totalling maybe 1/3 of what Mike will be doing. In addition, what bass I didn't finish on Day 1, I will do this day. Lastly, we will be throwing in a lot of percussion type stuff and finishing touches: piano, sleigh bells, tambourine, hand claps, etc.

HOW WE'RE DOING SO FAR

Day one was a smashing success in my opinion. We were planning on being in the studio at 3:00. Because the people before us were running late, we didn't get in until just after 5:00 (you find that EVERY aspect of recording utilizes one virtue: patience). We were planning on being done by midnight. Actually, our time estimation was pretty dead on. We ended up finishing for the night around 2:00. Given that we started 2 hours late and ended exactly 2 hours late, I have to say it was a pretty good guess as to how long it would take to do what we needed to do.

Drums were great. Goose never ceases to amaze me. Seriously, these are some complicated songs...especially where the drums are concerned. That was no problem for Goose, though. Dude knocked it out of the park.

Our hope was to do 7 songs. We really only needed to do 5, and we had two extra songs that we'd get done if time allowed. We actually got the drums down (and nearly flawless) for all 7 songs. As an added bonus, the bass was good for 5 of the 7, meaning that I will only have to play bass for two more songs on Monday. Granted, they are the two hardest songs of the seven, but I didn't really expect to have them down the first night anyway.

Despite a few frustrating moments and a couple of times I had to bite my tongue, I drove home feeling really good about our progress.

So that's where we are now. Day two will be starting for Mike any minute now. He will likely go late into tonight, and hopefully when I arrive tomorrow for the final day, all the guitars will be done and we'll still be on schedule.

By the way...Matt, our engineer, is awesome. He is really easy-going, and really seems to know his stuff. With him recording, and Jason mixing for us, we're bound to have some really good, professional-sounding stuff when this is all said and done.

Twenty-Four*

2010-11-20T11:24:00.002-05:00

Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you shoce all the songs.

At first I thought this one was pretty lame. Then, after I thought about it, I realized the direction popular music is (and has been) headed. Therefore, not only do I think it's not a terrible idea, but it may actually be beneficial in the long run.

This playlist is dedicated to Cohen. The reason isn't all mushy and lovey-dovey. It's so by the time he's a teenager, he'll know what good music is (was). Admittedly, some of the songs may be inappropriate for a kid, so maybe I won't play him some of this stuff until he's older. Also, note that this isn't in any particular order. I just don't have time for that.

1. Guns N Roses - Sweet Child O' Mine
This is my hands-down favorite song of all time. Awesome lead guitars, good vocals, nice aesthetics. It's an all around good song. There are a ton of little things going on through the song that the average person wouldn't catch, but a musician (or a fan of writing/arranging/the recording process) is more likely to hear and appreciate these things.

2. Buckcherry - Time Bomb
Sure, the chorus states "Life ain't nothin' but bitches and money", but I put this song on the list for a couple of reasons: (A) Man, it's just a good song, regardless of the appropriateness of the lyrics. It's catchy as all get out, plus it features Josh Todd, a vocalist who is very distinct. Maybe he doesn't have the best voice in the world, but what he has fits perfectly with the music he's playing, and (B) I think a lesson can be learned that sometimes you listen to good music for the simple fact that it's good music. Even if the content isn't ideal, sometimes there's just no mistaking a good rock and roll band. I can also point out to Cohen that Josh Todd, while he sings about drugs and sex, is actually married, has kids, and is completely sober (which is the truth). Sometimes entertainers "play a part". The public persona isn't always what is real (read: don't judge a book by its cover).

3. The Darkness - I Believe In a Thing Called Love
Sometimes songs are serious, sometimes they're fun, and sometimes they're just silly. This one falls in that last category. It's a hard rock song sung in all falsetto. Despite its being silly, somehow, it's really good, too.

4. Dwight Yoakam - Guitars, Cadillacs
While rock and roll is my music of choice, that doesn't mean all other genres are bad. I have 35 Dwight Yoakam songs on my iPod, and I had a hard time picking one because I think they're all great.

5. The Last Chucks - Bluebird Revisited
Of course Cohen would need to hear his daddy play! This is the first of two Chucks song I'm putting on the list. I chose this one because it's catchy and fun. It's very technical, too. The bass (what I play on it) is extremely fast, involved, and difficult to play, but the average person would never catch that.

6. The Last Chucks - Homeless Romantic
While I picked the last one because of its catchiness, I picked this one because of the weirdness. The time changes constantly. It fits absolutely no song-writing formula. Maybe Cohen will be a musician when he's older. If this is the case, he will appreciate the crap out of the technicalities of this song.

7. Five Iron Frenzy - Every New Day
While some (most) of the music I listen to is for fun, sometimes lyrics can be so meaningful, it will make a man cry. That's all I have to say about this song.

8. In Stereo - Waking Up
Not all the best bands become nationally famous. This is the case with this band. You've never heard of them. I've barely heard of them. They are (were, actually...they are no more as far as I know) a local Atlanta band that released one EP, and that's it. This song is on all my "fun songs" playlists, though.

9. John Mayer Trio - Everyday I Have the Blues
I'm pretty sure this was originally done by BB King, but the JMT version is pretty great. Once in a while, you just want to hear some good blues.

10. Robert Randolph and the Family Band - Going in the Right Direction
Is it Funk? Is it rock and roll? I don't know. What I do know, though, is that it has lots of soul, and it will make anyone want to dance. Lead singer plays a lap steel, which doesn't really fit either of the genres I mentioned. It sounds so good, though. I fell in love with this band the first time I ever heard them. They played on some awards show back in 2004 with Earth, Wind, and Fire. RR&TFB were better.

I'm sure I could come up with more, but I think ten is sufficient for now. This is probably a pretty long post as it is already.

*As in the Fox hit series, 24

Nobody Likes You When You're Twenty-Three

2010-11-19T14:09:00.003-05:00

Something you wish you had done in your life.

Didn't I answer this on day four? That question was, "Something you hope to do in your life". Similar question, but not exactly the same, I guess. My answer then was a short tour with a band. I guess since I said that already, I'll have to think of something else.

I guess there are a ton of things I wish I had done...chances I could have taken.

The first one that comes to mind is that I wish I would have pushed more with Anthem. While that sounds good on the surface, I know there is no way we would have actually made a real career out of it. We just would have lasted longer and ended later. Brent, Jason, and Carrie may not have moved to Orlando...which would have changed a lot of things. Brent and Cyndi probably wouldn't have gotten married (Brent has told me that the year in FL away from Cyndi was what made him sure she was the one for him). Jason and Carrie might not have gotten married, either (who knows, right?). Had they not gone to Orlando, Jason wouldn't have gone to Full Sail, and may not have the sweet freelance gig he has now. A lot of people would be in different places right now, and this is likely a bad thing.

So strike that first answer.

Another thing would be my track record with girls back when I was a teenager. There were opportunities to date certain girls that I didn't take. This was mostly a result of my shyness and insecurities. Had I dated (or made a move on) some (or even one) of those girls that I totally had a chance with, my entire "romantic history" could have changed. If I was dating Girl A, then maybe I wouldn't have dated Girl B. If I had kissed [name withheld] back, when she kissed me that one night, then things would have been different and I wouldn't have started dating Kimberly a couple of weeks later. Therfore, I likely wouldn't be where I am today.

So strike that second answer.

OH! I've got it! Here's an opportunity I wish I would have handled differently that wouldn't have had a lasting impact on where I am today.

When I was 12 years old, I played in the youth church basketball league. We weren't really that good. If there were 12 games in a season, I bet we lost 10 of them. However, on one (nearly) glorious Saturday morning, we were playing Donelson First Baptist, who was in first place in the league. We were down 28-27, with less than a minute left in the game. They took a shot and missed. I got the rebound with less than ten seconds left. I dribbled downcourt and at (what I thought was) the last opportunity, I hurled the ball toward our goal. It fell short. Really short. Like, 8 feet short.

I was upset, of course. What was more embarrassing that losing the game, though, was my terrible time-management skills. There were a full 5 seconds left on the clock when I made that shot. In reality, I had time to run all the way down and drop in a layup. Instead, the ball went out of bounds, and DFB had the opportunity to inbound it and hold on to it for the remaining few seconds. Had I not gotten caught up in the moment, I could live my life today knowing that I was a hero that one day in 1990.

That's something I wish I had done.

Catch Twenty-Two

2010-11-16T16:20:00.003-05:00

Something you wish you hadn't done in your life.

Started smoking. Some would call it peer pressure. I don't think I would...not direct peer pressure, anyway. None of my friends actively asked me to smoke, or tried to persuade me in any way. I just tried it one day. I didn't like it. That should have been the end of the story, but it wasn't. I decided to make myself like it. I was 21 years old when I started smoking. I figured it'd probably be a phase, and I'd be done within a year or so. Obviously, that wasn't the case. I'm 31 now, and despite my wanting to quit (and having actually tried numerous times), I still haven't been mentally able to shake it. To top it off, some of the friends that I hung out with during the time I started have now quit. Not me, though.

If you don't smoke (or haven't smoked), you won't understand this, but it's just not as easy as setting it down and not picking it back up. If it were, I would have quit on the day of my wedding (the first time I "quit"...that actually lasted an entire week). I would have quit on the day Cohen was born (that time lasted about a day). I would have quit 6 months ago (I made it 36 hours that time).

So...yeah. That's it. I want to quit. I have no plan of action at the present moment. And here we are.

Twenty-One Guns*

2010-11-16T08:34:00.003-05:00

Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?

Wouldn't happen.

First off, all of my friends are excellent drivers. Next, a friend and I would never get in a fight, because I am awesome, and I only surround myself with other awesome people.

Mostly, though. It's because I never let a grudge go. If, in the seemingly impossible scenario, a friend and I did get into a fight, that jerkface would obviously not be worthy of being a friend of mine and therfore, from that moment on, would no longer be my friend. Using this logic, it is impossible for my best friend to be in a car accident an hour after having a fight with me.

*Alternate title: 21 Jump Street

Matchbox Twenty*

2010-11-15T08:19:00.002-05:00

Your views on drugs and alcohol.
(when I mention "drugs", I will be referring only to illegal drugs...duh)

There are a couple of different ways of looking at it. There's the legal standpoint and the responsibility standpoint.

First off is the legal standpoint: Well, we all know what the laws are concerning both of these things. Alcohol is legal, so long as the drinker is old enough, does not drive intoxicated, and is not drunk in public (which, I guess is up to interpretation...I mean, there are bars). Drugs are obviously illegal.

From a responsibility standpoint:
Drugs: I guess there's a time and a place for everything. Of course, some drugs are very addictive and can ruin one's life, should the person allow them to take control. I can never see a right time or place to smoke crack or shoot heroin. Pot, I guess, can be different. I personally will never do it (again...I did it once about ten years ago, so I'm all set). Honestly, I think it's kind of stupid. I don't necessarily think it's wrong (outside of the obvious issue of it being illegal), but I just don't see the appeal.

I actually had an opportunity to smoke pot very recently. I was at a friend's house a couple of weeks ago. Three of us were standing outside talking about music or movies or something, and one of the guys said (in a stoner-sounding voice), "So, you guys wanna smoke some weed?" The other guy and I just kind of chuckled and said, "Nah, I'm all good". He replied, "Okay, I'm gonna go inside and smoke some weed". I decided about ten minutes later that it was time for me to leave.

I didn't necessarily have a problem with a bunch of people sitting around in a house smoking some pot. It didn't affect me or anyone else other than the people that chose to do it. I just didn't want to be a part of it. I mean, I'm a grown up, right?

Alcohol: I've had my indulgences just like most everyone else. I actually don't really like alcohol for the most part. Occasionally (rarely...like 3-4 times a year), though, I will drink some. Most times it goes well. Occasionally it does not. I guess there's not much of a fundamental difference (from a responsibility standpoint) between acting stupidly as a result of alcohol versus acting stupidly as a result of weed (again, outside of the obvious issue of legality). I guess that doing either responsibly is okay. I just don't like one and don't mind the other.

I guess it boils down to the first point. One is legal (with conditions) and the other is not. That's all there is to it, really. Do what you want, but be prepared to deal with the consequences (legal or otherwise).

*Getting into these higher numbers, it's hard to find interesting pop culture references for titles

Party like it's NINETEEN ninety-nine

2010-11-12T08:29:00.003-05:00

What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?

My facebook profile information says it all:

Religious Views: Yeah, I got 'em.
Political Views: Got those too.

Eighteen and Life*

2010-11-11T08:09:00.003-05:00

Your views on gay marriage

I would have to agree with my sister on this one. Yes, it may be biblically wrong (actually, if I understand correctly, the act of gay sex is biblically wrong...I do not know if there's a specific mention of gay marriage...but, I would understand the argument...six of one, half a dozen of the other). Regardless, it is not my place to judge anyone. Who am I to say that the law should prevent someone from doing something just because it is not what I personally would want to do? It has absolutely no effect on me or my day-to-day life, and I am yet to see a reason it should or would. It does absolutely nothing to the "sanctity" of the union I have with my own wife (which is about the dumbest argument I've heard against gay marriage to date).

There are many different ways of looking at the issue (whether one chooses to be gay vs. being born gay, whether the bible is a good basis for lawmaking, etc), but in the long run, I am for personal freedom, so long as it does not affect the freedoms or property of others.

*alternate title: Eighteen Wheels and a Dozen Roses

She's Only Seventeen

2010-11-10T09:58:00.006-05:00

A book you've read that changed your views on something.

Here's the problem. I love to read. I read for entertainment's sake, though. Lately, I have been thinking back over books I have read, and I realized that I haven't really retained much of anything. When I read, it's usually interesting in that moment. When the moment is gone, usually so is what I just read. I mean, I can generally tell you the basic plotline of any novel or the overlying theme of any nonfiction work, but very rarely do I remember specifics. The good thing is that it allows me to go back and read books a second and third time. The bad thing is that what I read usually doesn't really stay with me for long enough to have a lasting effect on me.

It makes no difference...fiction, non fiction, essays, articles, it doesn't matter.

I don't know why this is the case, but it seems that since I've been an adult*, I've just never been able to hold on to most of the information I have taken in via the written word.

I suppose I kind of have an answer to this question, though. I did read The Yankee Years, by Joe Torre and Tom Verducci a year or so ago. As a result, I still hate the New York Yankees, just not with the same fervor as I used to. Why, I couldn't tell you...I don't specifically remember much about the book. I just remember appreciating it. That's a change, right?

*meaning, since I haven't viewed the act of reading as something I am made to do, rather than something I enjoy doing

Sweet Sixteen

2010-11-10T08:17:00.002-05:00

Someone or something you definitely could live without.

Early in our marriage, Kimberly and I experienced a lot of "drama" within our group of friends. This guy hated that guy... This girl said something about somebody... That guy was a manipulator... This other guy said some things... There was always something going on, and it was never fun. I often felt like a mediator between people, and honestly, very little of the shenanigans actually had anything to do with myself or Kimberly. It took a couple or three years to sort it all out, but finally, six years into our marriage, we are relatively drama free.

Enter the Real Housewives.

There are many fundamental problems I have about this series of shows, the first of which is the aforementioned "drama". Why, after we worked so hard to eliminate all the petty crap out of our social lives, is this show allowed in our household? If you haven't seen this show ("this show" used as a blanket remark...there are multiple incarnations of the show. There are "real housewives" of New York, New Jersey, Atlanta, Beverly Hills, and some others that don't come to mind right now), let me give you an in-depth analysis, so we're all on the same page:

A bunch of snooty bitches that think they're better than everybody else, also think they're better than each other. As a result, they look at a camera and complain.

The above "drama" statement is only a small part of what I hate about this show. The bigger problem is that of our dumbing-down.

Look, i'm all for mindless television. I have a show or two that fall into that category. Eastbound and Down is one of them. It's a great show, but it takes absolutely no intelligence to watch and be amused by it. Another show that falls into this category is It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia (although I believe the writing is better and actually does take some level of intellect). Point is, of those two shows, one hour of my life every week is consumed. Real Housewives of... is on for hours each day. And people watch it.

There's a movie called Idiocracy that came out a few years ago. In this movie, the main character (played by Luke Wilson) freezes himself and wakes up 500 years later to find that Americans have become complete idiots. Everyone, from doctors to lawyers, even to the President of The United States, has a very limited vocabulary, eats nothing but this junk-food-type buttery-substance, drinks energy drinks, and watches the number one show in the country: Ow, My Balls, a show featuring nothing but men getting hit in the crotch with various things. There was no plantlife left because people had forgotten that plants need water (they irrigated with the same energy drink they drank) Trash was piled up as high as buildings because no one had figured a way to eliminate (or even conserve) wastes. And nobody cared...Ow, My Balls was on. Luke Wilson's character was proclaimed a genius, despite his having average to below average intelligence in the time from which he came.

I know it's a stretch, but I worry that this is the direction we're headed. So much of television these days is completely mindless, even to the point of not even being written...they just turn on the cameras and watch these annoying people with tiny world-views spend money lavishly and complain about their "friends". A bunch of snooty bitches griping about each other does not constitute good tv. Yet for some reason, people are sucked in. And it bothers me.

Fifteen

2010-11-08T09:37:00.002-05:00

Something or someone you couldn't live wihout, because you've tried living without it.

As much as I hate to say it...the answer is: playing in a band. With the exception of a couple of months in 1999, and a couple of months in 2005, I have constantly been in some band or another since I was about 17. Granted, I could probably live without it, but I get antsy. If I go a couple of weeks without a band practice*, I get annoyed. It's just something I have to do. I'm not particularly creative, nor to I have any kind of motivation to go out and try to make a career out of music. I just like getting to pick up my bass once a week and pound out some songs for an hour, for no other reason than it's fun.

Sure it'd be nice to play a show every now and then. I think I've just come to peace with the conclusion that it'll never happen, though. I've let myself get bothered by it in the past, but no more. I'm just going to be satisfied with my hobby. If someone (in particular) decides to book us a show, I'll be thrilled. I'm just not going to expect it.

*I use the word "practice" loosely. That word infers that there's something coming up that one would need to prepare for. I suppose I could call it "jam", but that's stupid. Maybe we should call it our weekly band play...or something, I don't know.

Lucky Number Thirteen

2010-11-02T08:15:00.004-04:00

A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ... days (write a letter)

I've been touched by a band whose lyrics speak to my very soul. They inspire me. The have shown me the value of finding Something To Believe In. When life gets hard, sometimes I need to just let go and Ride the Wind, or sometimes just Cry Tough. You guys are Fallen Angels, who just want Nothin' But a Good Time. So even though Every Rose Has Its Thorn, Poison, I Won't Forget You. Baby.

Eleven Alive!

2010-10-29T08:18:00.003-04:00

Something people seem to compliment you the most on.

Easy. Calf muscles. I have witnessed muscular, body-builder-type people in the gym checking out their own calf muscles in the mirror, then looking jealously at mine. Once a customer said (as I was walking away from him), "DANG! Where'd you buy those calf muscles?"

What can I say...I was always a big guy*. I needed the muscles to hold me up and get me around.

*Surprisingly, people can confuse being overweight with being "built", or above average in the strength department. When I was at my heaviest, I was at a show and some guy started hitting on Kimberly. When I politely informed the man that she was my wife, he backed up, threw his hands up, and apologized, saying there was no way he wanted to get on my bad side. Also, my brother-in-law (who was at one point a larger man like myself, but who has also dropped a noticeable amount of weight) and I were setting up for a day at the beach when someone approached us asking us about our workout regimen and how much we bench.

Just the Ten of Us

2010-10-28T14:12:00.003-04:00

Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn't know.

Okay, some of you may not like this, but I can only think of one person: Conan O'Brien.
(note, I realize that today's and yesterday's prompts were likely meant to be answered with more personal relationships, but to be honest, I pretty much have all my friends where I want them)

Liking Conan O'Brien has seemed like the cool thing to do over the past number of years. I just never got into him. I never got the appeal. I mean, he's funny, sure. That's his job, though. David Letterman and Jay Leno are both funny, too...just in different ways. To be honest, there isn't really any late night tv host that I think is downright, can't-miss hilarious (Stewart and Colbert included). I can think of about ten other things I'd like to watch over any of those shows.

Conan's humor* has always seemed immature and easy-to-write. I could be wrong. Admittedly, I haven't seen a whole lot of his show. What I have seen, though, just really didn't do it for me. Of course, most of America (or at least the hip, trendy portion) will disagree with me. I will agree that he got jobbed by NBC. I don't think the man should be yanked off the airwaves. There are people that like him, and if he wants to give them what they want, I say let it happen. I'm just not one of those people.

I'm just a little tired of hearing how hilarious he is, despite already having formed my contrary opinion of the guy. Again, not that I think he's not funny. I just don't think he's the savior of modern comedy that everyone else seems to think he is.

*I am referring to his talk show. I did think he was good as an award-show host. I also follow him on Twitter. About 60% of his tweets are funny in my opinion.

Love Potion Number Nine

2010-10-28T12:25:00.004-04:00

Someone you didn't want to let go, but just drifted...

I knew this guy...well, I didn't know him. I knew of him. Regardless, I liked him. I respected him. I wanted to be like him. I entertained the thought (this was long before I was actually going to have a kid) of eventually naming my kid after him, based on my admiration for what he did and how he did it. He just seemed like a really cool dude (actually, he still does). He is Lenny Kravitz.

I (like most of you, I'm sure) was first introduced to Kravitz in the early- to mid-90's with "Are You Gonna Go My Way". It was a pretty good song. He looked amazingly cool playing his Flying-V guitar in the circular room with people dancing all around and all the way up the balconies while he shook his dreadlocks about1.

Over the next few years, of course, he released more singles. Some were smooth, slow jams. Some still had the upbeat rock and roll element. I was also introduced to music that he made before the aforementioned break-out hit. It was all good, too. Somewhere along the way, it came to my attention that while Kravitz has a band he tours with, he records all (or at least most) of the instruments on the albums himself. The guitars, bass, drums, pianos, lead and backup vocals....all him.

I admired the crap out of that. It made me appreciate Kravitz more than the casual fan, I think. That was always something I have always wanted to do. I could easily handle the instrument-playing part of it. I just wasn't good at the song-writing aspect.

As the years rolled by, I bought a few of his albums here and there, and over time I slowly started to lose the appreciation. Everything I heard was slightly less impressive than the previous effort. The last album I bought was Baptism. There was not one song on that album that tickled my fancy. I think that last album was what sealed the deal. It was the final nail in the coffin. We had drifted apart, Lenny and me, and at that point that I realized it was over between the two of us. As a result, I still feel slightly disappointed - even when I hear one of his songs that I like - just because I know it will never be the same.

I wish him the best. He still seems over-the-top cool as a person. As a songwriter and a musician, though, we're just in different places2. Maybe we can still be friends.

1 The red suede vest with tails that flowed all the way to his feet, along with the platform high-heeled boots, I could have done without. I do, however, understand that while those things sound silly (and looked silly), it did fit the image that the video portrayed - a band whose coolness is stuck between "hippie" and "rock star". It didn't fit the (flannel shirt, ripped jeans, messy hair, "I-care-so-much-about-making-it-look-like-I-don't-care-what-I-look-like) style of the era, but still it seemed completely natural at the time. That was one thing Lenny Kravitz was (and still is) always good at doing...dressing to look cool, despite not dressing like anyone else.

2 His place being rich and famous and my place being in a sign shop.

Eight Is Enough

2010-10-26T18:43:00.003-04:00

Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like [crap]

Um, I don't know if I really have an answer for this one. There really wasn't anyone who habitually treated me poorly. Sure, there have been some crappy things done to me over my life, but they were really isolated incidents.

Okay, I have one. I have told this story a number of times, so if you've already heard it, my apologies. I was in high school (in Tennessee). I had a crush on this girl named Nadalie (which is almost an anagram for Daniel, thus leading me to believe fate may be on my side). It was a pretty big crush. The problem though, was that this wasn't a girl I admired from afar. We actually became somewhat close friends...at least in the school setting. We never hung out any outside of school, but we had a number of classes together and were very friendly with each other.

One day, after school, I brought her into the art classroom to show her something I had made earlier in the day. On our way out of the room, she left first, then one of the students in the room said "Hey, Daniel...is that your girlfriend?". Playing it cool, I flippantly responded "I wish!". I didn't really mean much by it. I mean, I did wish that, but I would have never acted on it.

Well, either she heard me say it, or word got around to her that I had said it*. A few weeks later, close to the end of the school year. I walked into a classroom halfway through a story she was telling. In this story, a crazy ex-boyfriend had showed up at the school because he heard she was dating someone new. He wanted to know who this person was, and that this person would have hell to pay. He was not afraid of getting in trouble - or even arrested - for what he did, because his dad was a cop and could get him out of any trouble he may find himself in. Did I mention he was crazy?

Well, like all the other people crowded around the table, I listened to Nadalie's sad story. I listened to her talk about how she sometimes fears for not only her safety, but the safety of the people she hangs out with. Nothing changed in our relationship much after that through the end of the school year. She signed my yearbook with the classic "K.I.T." with her phone number.

I fretted over that number many times over the course of that summer. Should I call her? What would I say? We had never hung out before, so it would be weird to ask her if she wanted to, and I wasn't really in a place (of confidence) to actually ask her out on a date. One day, I was at a friend's house and we were discussing all the potential possibilities of calling (or choosing not to cal) her. For some reason, my friend was obviously on the side of encouraging me not to call her. I really couldn't figure out why. Finally, he relented. "Daniel, do you remember hearing Nadalie tell a story about a crazy, jealous ex-boyfriend?" "Yeah", I replied. "Well, she made that story up, because she heard you liked her, and she wanted to scare you away".

Despite going to that school for another full year before moving to Georgia, I never talked to Nadalie again. Part of me was embarrassed, but the other part of me was kind of pissed off. I had asked girls out before. Some had said yes, and others had said no. It was no big deal. Granted, had she said no, it likely would have ended our friendship anyway (as was the case with other girls that had turned me down in the past...it would have just been weird to continue being friends with them...at least when I was 15). It's a funny story to tell now, but at the time, I just thought it was a really cruel thing to do. Actually, I still think it was a cruel thing to do, but I got over it.

*She may have heard that I said that, OR it could have been that I think she saw one of my doodles that had her initials in the middle of a heart. I understand that this is likely the biggest part of the story, yet I chose to leave it out of the actual telling of the story. I could understand her being a little weirded out at the sight of her initials in a heart on a friend's piece of scrap notebook paper, but seriously, I was harmless. I was a quiet, shy 15-year-old who was still scared to death of girls, despite having mustered up the courage to ask a few of them out at that point. The reason I left it out of the story is simple...it never occurred to me that the doodle could have been what threw her off until just recently. For some reason, I never put those clues together at the time. What could I say, I overlooked the basic facts because I was smitten.

Seven

2010-10-26T17:34:00.003-04:00

Someone who has made your life worth living for.

Okay, is this someone who has made my life worth living for...as in, I would be living my life for that person? Or is this just a poorly worded question that means someone that has made my life worth living? Some of the grammatical errors and questionable language in this list of prompts leads me to believe that it is the latter of the above listed options.

I'll go with that. Someone who has made my life worth living.

Well, to be blunt, my first answer is nobody. I love my wife and kid more than anything. They make me immensely happy. I cannot imagine my life without them. I cannot, however, say that my life would not be worth living without them. Let me explain:

There are two scenarios involved in this question. The first scenario involves having them and losing them. The second involves never having had them in the first place (as in Kimberly and I never met, or we broke up along the way, therefore Cohen doesn't exist).

The first scenario is devastating. Having known and loved my wife and son, if I lost them, it would take some serious searching to find a reason to continue. I know that sounds a little extreme, but it's true. I would hole up in my house (which I would eventually lose, because I would not be able to pay for it from not going to work), and it would take a hell of a lot to get me out and living again.

So, in scenario #1, my wife and kid definitely do make my life worth living.

In scenario #2, I never met Kimberly, or we broke up early in our relationship, therefore Cohen does not exist. Let's say Kimberly dumped me when I was 19 because it didn't appear that I had a real future (which was a real danger back then, if Kimberly's family had their way....oh...that slipped out. Sorry*). For the sake of argument, let's say she married.... oh.... hypothetically... some guy... let's just call him... ummmmmm. B.J.

Kimberly dumped me, and sure I was distraught (I mean, have you seen her?). However, I've been rejected my fair share of times through my life (believe it or not!), and I survived. Years down the line, this would have been another relationship that had potential, but just didn't come to fruition.

Granted, in this scenario, it is impossible to know whether I would have gone out and found someone else (of course, no one would have compared...but I would not know that. I would not have dated Kimberly for even a year in this scenario). I may, however, have ended up 31 years old and single, with no hope for a real relationship. I surely can't afford a house by myself with what I make, so I'd probably be in an apartment with a roommate, still.

So, I guess, looking at it, Scenario #2 makes my life (and I mean the life I have led, as in the path I have chosen, not the literal meaning of the word life) worth living.

Look, all of this is a really big stretch. I can speculate forever on what may or may not have happened if Kimberly and I didn't make it. The reality, though, is that we did. No matter which way I try to look at it, Kimberly (and subsequently Cohen) both have made the life I chose worth it.

So my blunt, first answer was wrong, apparently.

*I say that about Kimberly's family, because at the time it was true. I was 19. I had no real future. I had no plans for college. They weren't crazy about me. I resented that for a while. However, if I look at it from their perspective, I must admit that it definitely made sense. If I had an 18-year-old daughter that was graduating high school and starting college, and she started dating the 19-year-old version of me, I'd be a little wary, too. Of course, it's all good in the hood now...as far as I know.

OKAY FINE! Numero six

2010-10-26T13:37:00.004-04:00

I'll do some more. I probably won't do all of them...some of the prompts are stupid or too touchy-feely, but I'll just decide as I go.

Something you hope you never have to do.

The obvious (albeit correct) answer is lose a child (or spouse). This is what my sister said. To that, I totally agree. However, since that has already been adequately discussed, I'll try to go with something else. Still child related, though.

I hope to never have the problems with Cohen that my parents had with me.

As I mentioned in the critically acclaimed Trois, 5th grade was around the time I stopped caring about school and/or grades. It wasn't that it was too hard. It also wasn't that it was too easy. Believe it or not, I was actually a really bright kid. I don't know what my IQ is (or was...I'm not sure if/how it changes over time), but I was in all the "gifted" programs through my early years at school school. A lot of my teachers theorized that I started slacking off because I wasn't being challenged enough. Sadly, that was not the case. It would have made no difference how much I was challenged. I was smart, but I was just lazy.

That's really all there is to it. It may have been that the fact that I was smart contributed to the problem. I knew I was smart. As a result, I thought I could get by on that alone. I aced most of my tests throughout school. I did relatively well on the SAT. I just didn't feel the need to do any homework. I figured that if I could just prove to my teachers that I knew the stuff (via good test scores), then that should be enough*. Unfortunately, that isn't how it works in school. In addition to knowing the material, one also has to actually do the work assigned. This is a concept I never really got a good hold on.

Kimberly was the opposite of me. Well, I take that back. She was gifted as well. Very smart. She was the opposite in the sense that in addition to doing well on the tests, she actually did the work as well. Kimberly studied. She did homework. More than just that, she did her homework without being prompted or forced by her parents to do the homework. She didn't have the same problem as me of coming up with a new lie every day for her parents (e.g: My teacher didn't assign homework today, My teacher gave us time in class to do the work, There was a bomb threat, so we missed 2 hours of class today). She just did the work. It paid off, too. She makes a considerable amount more than I do.

I know my parents would love nothing more than to see me have to deal with Cohen, should he follow the same path that I did. Of course, I know that my parents don't want Cohen to make bad grades in school, thus making it harder for him to find gainful employment when he's an adult. It's just so I can "get what's coming to me". I wouldn't blame my parents one bit if they found delight in my frustration at Cohen's not falling far from the proverbial tree. For everyone else's sake, though, I hope he inherits his mother's work ethic...at least as far as school/homework is concerned. No one should have to go through what my parents went through...not even me!

*I will admit, now that I am 31 years old, that I still believe that statement to be true. I understand that this does not translate to the real world, where "doing" is more important than simply "knowing". However, in grade school, the objective is teaching and learning...not "doing". There's plenty of time to learn how to "do" after all the learning has taken place. I don't know, it makes sense to me.

Okay, so maybe it was more like "5 days of truth"

2010-10-18T13:18:00.004-04:00

Sorry about that, everybody. Those were all incredibly terrible and even more boring than what I usually put on here.

So instead, I'll just get back to putting either 1) what I think is interesting, or 2) nothing at all, up on this bloggy blogg.

Johnny Five Is Alive

2010-10-15T16:59:00.003-04:00

Something you hope to do in your life

Something I never did and still hold out a little hope of doing is a short tour with a band. I've been out of town with a couple of my old bands. A couple of them were overnight, but none were more than that. I just want the experience. I'm sure it's probably a lot more boring than I picture it in my mind, but I guess I'll never know until I do it.

There is a (miniscule) chance of this actually happening next year. One of the bands on my friend's label is coming to the states to do a tour (the band is from Israel), and they asked if we'd come out and do a few of the shows with them. Their tour is only 2-3 weeks, and our part would only be maybe 2-3 nights, but nothing is even close to solidified. I'm all for it. Goose says he's all for it. Mike is all for it. That's a 3 out of 3 vote, but I'm giving this about a 2.3 percent chance of actually happening.

That's just how it works with this band...not that I mind. We talk about plans. We talk about feasability. We save vacations days...just in case. Then nothing happens. It doesn't really bother me all that much. I'm just in it for the fun of continuing my bass playing, be it in a club or in my friend's basement. It would be nice to actually see some fruit of this labor, though.

Four

2010-10-15T08:24:00.005-04:00

Something you have to forgive someone for

I had this friend. This is the only person I have ever actively ended a friendship with. He said a number of things, a lot of which I cannot and will not forgive him for. There was one thing, though, that despite how he came across, I know he had good intentions.

The year Kimberly and I were trying to get pregnant was very trying on our nerves. There were a lot of highs and lows, but it seemed that the lows were much more prominent. Trying not to get too technical, there were two procedures...IUI and In Vitro. We went through three unsuccessful IUI's over the course of 3 or 4 months before finally succeeding with the In Vitro procedure.

The night before we found out the negative results of our third and final IUI, we had friends over for a get-together at our house. This guy was among those friends. The guys has always been known for being very opinionated somewhat obnoxious. Half the people I knew liked him and the other half, not so much. I always liked him...he had a lot of interesting opinions, and I was always down for a good debate, be it political, musical, etc.

This guy had split up with his wife about three months prior. Half the time he was good times and fun to hang around (granted, this was usually over the course of a 12-pack of Budweiser), and the other half he became very serious and lectured about "true friends being there for each other" and how much more he would have helped a friend going through a hard time if roles were reversed. At that time, Kimberly and I differed on our opinions about the guy. I could see her side, but that didn't so much affect my own opinion of him. I still liked the guy.

Anyway, at the end of that night, everyone else had left except for the guy. He, Kimberly, and I all sat out on the deck. We hadn't told him much about our infertility situation...he had his own things he was going through with his wife and what not. This night, however, our situation came up. We talked about what we were going through, how it hadn't worked up until this point. We talked about our frustrations and disappointments. His response was "Well, you guys need to know that if it doesn't work out..." we stopped him right there. "There is no 'if'", we said. It will work out. He said, "oh, I know...but I'm just saying if it doesn...". Again we said "Stop! Don't say that. There is no 'if'. We are being positive. It WILL work."

The night didn't end well. Kimberly had just about enough of the "if-nots". She got in his face and gave him what's for. Twice, actually. He just would not get it through his head that "no" was not an option.

I knew what he was trying to say. He was trying to tell us that regardless of what happened, we had each other, and we should cherish it. Knowing what he had gone through (and was still going through), his thought made sense. At the time, though, we were in a completely different place than he was. We didn't understand what he was going through, but he also didn't understand what we were going through.

For that, I should forgive him (if he wants forgiveness...which I doubt). There were a number of other things he said about me, my wife, my brother, his wife, and other friends in the months to follow. Those things were just mean, and if he has no remorse for them, then I sure as hell don't have any remorse for my ending the friendship.

But, for that one night. It wasn't about something he deliberately did to us. That night, it was about his trying to get a point across without fully grasping our mindset and that we didn't want to hear his point.

Trois

2010-10-13T16:43:00.003-04:00

Something you have to forgive yourself for

A problem I've had my whole life is doing things in excess. That's why I got as overweight as I did. Conversely, I think that's why I lost a lot of that weight as fast as I did. When I start playing "Angry Birds" on my phone, I get so wrapped up in it that unless I consciously make myself stop, I would play for hours. I suppose you'd call it an "addictive personality". I guess it's a good thing I don't really like to drink, and I've never done drugs. If that were the case, I could put myself in a world of trouble.

WARNING, what comes next is ridiculously corny, and I feel stupid even talking about it, but it's something I have never really forgotten about

Specifically, one thing that comes to mind is my behavior through the 5th and 6th grade. I became friends with two brothers whose names were Ricardos and Decarlos (no joke). One day, we decided to skip a class together. We roamed the halls and found what we thought was the most magical place in the entire school. It appeared to be a room full of confiscated toys. We played in there for a while. We played destructively. There were glass things in the room. We broke them. There were G.I. Joe toys. We took them. After we felt a sufficient amount of time had passed, we walked back up to our rooms and continued our day like nothing had ever happened.

The next day, we did it again during a different class (you know, so our teachers wouldn't be suspicious at our missing two days in a row...'cause we were brilliant). This led to skipping classes more often. Then, because of that excessive behavior I mentioned earlier, I took it a step further. We had been stealing toys out of that room for a while. I then took it upon myself to start my own little crime spree. I started stealing pencils and other random, useless stuff out of teachers' rooms. Once I snuck into the PE teacher's office and stole an entire box of candy bars. This went on from the second half of my 5th grade year through about the first half of 6th grade. I would skip school assemblies and rummage through my classmates' stuff, stealing a coke here and a Trapper Keeper folder there. Once I stole a Salt N Pepa tape, just because it was there, and I could.

For some reason, I never officially got caught. I'll never understand what actually happened, but it was brought to my attention years later that my parents knew about it. Or, at least, they knew about the skipping of classes. I'm sure a teacher called and told them about it. I was never confronted about it though, and for a number of years - I guess always, actually - I was just off the hook for it. My parents had other problems to deal with me about, I guess. Around that time was when I stopped caring about school work or grades (a bad habit that lasted right up until I graduated). I'll never know why, but I never got busted for it.

On top of that, I was mean. I had my friends (we were all losers), and we were rude to the popular kids. There was no real reason...they weren't mean to us. They weren't stuck-up, snobby popular kids. Actually, quite the opposite was true. They were nice. For some reason, though, I was a jerk to most of them.

In general, I was just an all-around gigantic a-hole. I had no justification why this was the case, but I was. It wasn't until high school that I socially balanced myself out. I think that may be a reason why I would classify myself a nice guy now. Maybe it's because I have been a not-so-nice guy before, and I know how stupid those guys are.

Still, to this day, I occasionally think about the way I was back then, and even though it had no lasting negative impact myself (or probably anyone else I came in contact with), I still regret it.

Day number two

2010-10-13T12:47:00.003-04:00

Something you love about yourself.

I feel it's only fair - since I listed two things I hate about myself - that I also list two things I love about myself. This should be easy, as I am awesome.

First, I am one of the most laid back, easy-going guys you'll probably ever meet. If there are punches, I roll with them. If there is a flow, I go with it. I seldom complain (in a non-joking manner) about anything. I think that makes me a valuable employee, husband, sibling, and friend. I always find something positive in the midst of negativity, and I can laugh at just about anything. I will try as hard as I can to go out of my way and help anyone who needs it, be it a friend or a stranger. It's all about being nice. I try to make being nice my "thing". If there is a way to make something easier for people around you, there's no good reason not to do so.

Secondly, I (think I) am a good father (so far). Granted, I haven't had to sit and have any life-changing, character-forging talks with my son yet, as he isn't even two years old. I have very little experience thus far in the handing out of discipline. I am involved, though, and that's about all I can do at this point. A lot of generations before me designated that the father's main role in a child's life (outside of financially providing for the child) didn't really get into full swing until the child was older and needed discipline. That's just not the way it is in 2010. I don't mind changing diapers. I don't mind putting up with Cohen's insistance on crawling all over me when I have a plate of food in my lap and I'm trying to eat dinner. I love to play with Cohen. I don't mind embarrassing myself for his pleasure. His laugh makes me forget everything wrong with the world, and when I hear it, I will do everything in my power to hear it again.

Hey, two days in a row, and I haven't missed one yet. I'm on a roll!

Numero Uno

2010-10-12T17:38:00.003-04:00

I noticed my sister started a daily blog series called "30 Days of Truth", which features a different writing prompt every day. I also noticed that I don't be typing much up in here lately, and it's largely because I haven't had much to say. I figure if nothing else, this will jumpstart my thought-relaying, and my blog won't lay dormant for months at a time.

I realize that this sounds like an incredibly girly and silly thing for a 31-year-old man to be doing. Eh...that's fine, though. I can live with it if you can. Today will be number one, and while I'll probably miss a day here or there, I'll do my best to complete all thirty of them in a somewhat timely fashion.

#1 - Something you hate about yourself

Okay...day one, and I'm already going to cheat. The prompt asks for one thing, and I'm listing two.

First, I hate that I can't fully grasp this whole "responsible adult" thing. It's not that I do things that immature people do (stay out all hours of the night, drink obsessively, live with my parents). It's that I don't do the things mature people do. First off, there is a list as long as my arm of things that need to be done around the house. I need to fix our driveway. I need to fix our sliding glass door. I need to trim our bushes. I need to fix the ceiling (that I fell through almost three years ago). What do I do every night when I get home? Help give Cohen his dinner, eat dinner myself, play with Cohen for a little while, then Kimberly and I put him to bed. By this point, it's almost 9:00, and I ain't about to get out the tools and start working on stuff.
But Daniel, you can do this stuff on the weekends, right? Yeah, you'd think...and you'd be right. Problem is, that's where the whole immaturity thing comes in. I'm more interested in watching (insert sporting event here) and enjoying some relax time. That's the part I haven't fully wrapped my head around. Most adults use that time to do housework. Somehow, I always find something else to do.

Secondly, I hate that I can't get my health fully where I want it to be. I have made huge strides in that department over the past 6 months. I have lost 50 pounds. I now have what I would describe as a "healthy lifestyle". You know what I haven't done? Eaten better. Stopped smoking. I complain that my weight, no matter how hard I work, seldom drops into the 230's, and when it does, it's only for a short time before I'm back up between 241 and 243. I complain, but I know good and well that if I ate better...if I didn't have those cookies after dinner...if I just used the one piece of cheese on my sandwich rather than the two (or *gasp* no cheese!)...if I made all these small changes, they would add up and I'd probably see results.
I have tried countless times to quit smoking. I know it's terrible. I know what it can do to me. I know it stinks (literally), and should Cohen ever find out it could (probably would) result in him doing it too when he's older. All of these reasons, however, have not stopped me from doing it. I have no excuse. I have no justification. I just haven't quit yet, and I need to.

I hate those things, and now I feel terrible about myself. I can't wait for tomorrow when I will be told to list what I love about myself.

Spinning my wheels...

2010-09-24T08:53:00.002-04:00

As I'm sure you know, if you've been reading this blog up to now, I've been on a big health and fitness kick for the past 4 months or so. It has yielded some pretty awesome results thus far.
I started at around 290 pounds. Every month, I've lost about 10-12 pounds. This started with a tremendous amount of bike riding. At one point, I got down to 238. It was kind of a fluke though. I'm sure it depended on the time of day, when I had last eaten, when I had last worked out. All of those factors aligned themselves, leaving me with one awesome weigh-in. Since then, I have been hanging in the 242-245 range.

I thought that my body had maybe hit a wall. It had gotten used to the riding, and it was time to change it up a bit. I joined a gym a week and a half ago, so I could give my body some variety in the way of exercise. I have been a member of this gym for 9 days, and I have gone and worked out 7 of them.

Admittedly, I don't really know how to work out. I don't know the ins and outs of it. What to do, when to do it, etc. I've just kind of been winging it. I started out on 3 different cardio machines, just doing ten minutes of each. That changed to 2 machines, at 15 minutes each, and now most recently, I've been doing about 20 minutes on two machines each. That part is pretty self explanitory. I watch my heart rate, I can see the calories burned, and I can feel whether or not I'm getting a good workout. It's the weights I don't really know all that much about.

Since my 2 month stint on the 8th grade football team in White House, TN, I have virtually no weight-lifting experience (to clarify...these aren't free weights I'm using, but weight machines). I try to use common sense. I work out my upper body one day, lower body the next, abdominal muscles every day.

I have felt like I have made good strides. I leave the gym every day feeling like I get a good workout. However, the scale disagrees with me. Despite trying to "shock" my body, and kickstart more weight loss (I still feel like I have a good 40-45 pounds to go), I have done nothing but maintain the weight loss up to this point. I know it's only been a week and a half, but I figure I'd see at least a little progress...a pound or two...or three. But so far, nothing.

It's kind of frustrating, but it hasn't stopped me from trying. The only downside to all this is that I have now almost quit riding my bike altogether, since all of my free time has been switched to the gym. But, I feel like if I go back to riding, then I'm neglecting the gym, which I'm actually paying for (and getting a wider assortment of exercises). I'm sure I'll find a good routine eventually, but for now, I just feel like I'm spinning my wheels...working hard and going nowhere.

Granddaddy

2010-06-30T10:48:00.004-04:00

My Granddaddy passed away this past Saturday morning (June 26, 2010). It wasn't tragic, nor was it a surprise. We all knew it was coming soon. My dad and uncle had already gone up to Tennessee to be with him and my Grandmother. Brent, Cyndi, Shaunna, Chris, Martha, and I all headed up there at various times on Sunday for the viewing/visitation, and the funeral service and burial were Monday.

Since Kimberly and Cohen couldn't make it (due to a nasty wasp sting on Cohen's eye...a story I've told 100 times since last week), I had a lot of time by myself on the way up to Nashville to think about Granddaddy and Grandmother. I flipped through the files of my memory and relived stories from my childhood. There was the time Brent, Shaunna, and I stayed at their house for a week while Mom and Dad were out of town, and Shaunna broke a handle on Granddaddy's treadmill. Granddaddy, rather than get mad about it (which we fully expected), used it to teach us a lesson in honesty and admitting your mistakes that I will always remember. There was the time (actually 2 times) we got lost in the expansive (well, they're expansive when you're 9 years old) woods behind their house. We were hysterical, screaming for help until finally we emerged from the woods into a field just around the corner from their yard.

There are a ton of stories I remember from being at Granddaddy and Grandmother's house. However, there is one that will forever stick out in my mind.

I was a very young adult...like 19...maybe even 18. We had gone to Tennessee at Christmas, as we do every year. For a while it had been hard to get everybody together at the same time. It just happened by chance, though, that everyone from Granddaddy and Grandmother down (Roy, Beverly, Michelle, Thomas, Carla, My Mom and Dad, Brent, Shaunna, and I) were all there at the same time. This had been very rare in previous years, as we grandchildren had started to grow older, get jobs, etc.

As we stood around the table before our Christmas feast (which, by the way, both of my grandmothers do an amazing job preparing), Granddaddy was about to pray over the meal before we chowed down. Before he prayed, he just said a few words about how glad he is that the entire family was there. He told us how thankful he is for all of us, and how special it is that we were all together. As he spoke, I saw something I had never seen before and I would never see again. Granddaddy got choked up. Tears filled his eyes as he gave his mini-speech.

Granddaddy was a stern man. He was very opinionated. I wouldn't call him a negative man, but there were plenty of things he didn't like, and he wouldn't shy away from telling you about them. On that day, though, I saw what was really important to him. Family.

While it's nice to branch out, do your own thing, make something of yourself, etc., we must not forget who we are and where we come from. My Mom and Dad, Brother, Sister, and I all live within about 30 minutes of each other, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I love my family (all sides of it...my mom's side, my dad's side, Kimberly's mom's and dad's sides). I am very grateful to be surrounded by the people I love, and I can only hope that it doesn't change as we all get older and have our own kids.

Enjoy your families and keep them close. If you didn't grow up in a family where a lot of love was present, I would encourage you to make that tradition your goal as you start your own family.

...by the grace of God

2010-06-23T16:07:00.005-04:00

A friend of mine posted a status update on FaceBook yesterday. He has since deleted the update, and I don't remember it verbatim, but it was something to the effect of...

Just saw a FB post, and it reminded me of how glad I am I left the South. People are racist, live entitled and unintelligent.

Of course, there were a myriad of comments under the status update along the lines of, "Not everybody!", and "I'm not!". My personal favorite was "Now I remember why I left the north. People make sweeping generalizations and are eliteists and unintelligent."

I was really surprised at how upset that guy's comment made me. I like to think that I generally have my reactions in check. It takes a lot to make me mad. On top of that, I have never been one to stand up for my "Southern heritage". For some reason, though, that one comment by my friend really made my blood boil!

I couldn't help but think more and more about the comment and how it made me mad, but really what I pondered was why it made me so mad. Of course, there was the insinuation that I'm a racist who, despite my unintelligence, feels entitled (to exactly what, I don't know). That insinuation, though, couldn't be what made me mad. I've never been one to become angry at accusations that aren't true. It's like a mom joke. They never offended me, because I know that my mama isn't so fat she uses a VCR for a beeper.

No, the more I thought about it, I realized what it is. It's that the South is pretty cool, and this guy just badmouthed it. Yeah, we have the heat and humidity...and the bugs. But do you know what else we have? Courtesy. Close-knit families. Sweet Tea. We open doors for each other at the gas station. When someone drops a twenty on the sidewalk we (well, most of us) pick it up, chase them down, and return it. We know how to work hard, but we know how to take it easy, too. On my initial lap around the park when I ride, nearly everybody gets a preliminary "hello" nod...and everybody returns the nod with a smile. Simply put, we're nice.

Sure, we have our downside. There are indeed racist people in the South. You know what, though? There are racist people in the North, Midwest, East Coast, West Coast, and everywhere between. Ignorance knows no regions. I ran into many more toothless rednecks over a weekend in Pennsylvania than I see in any given month in Georgia.

What also bugged me about what my friend said was the fact that he's from the south. If he was born and raised in New York City and had had this skewed perception of Southern people, I wouldn't care nearly as much. This guy, though, was one of my best friends when I lived in Tennessee. We used to race across Nashville - me in my mid-80's, beat-up Isuzu P'up and him in his mid-80's, beat-up Ford Bronco - to go hang out with my girlfriend and her friend that he was trying date. I look back fondly at that last summer before I moved to Georgia. We had as much fun as two 16-year-olds could probably have over the course of a summer. Now, he is 30. he and his (Georgia native) wife live in NYC, and racist, unintelligent, and entitled are his thoughts when he looks back at where he's from?

It just makes me sad, that's all. I don't generally beam with "Southern pride". I am, however, happy with how and where I was raised. It would take a lot of money to get me to go anywhere else, too (if you're offering, I can be reached at daniel.dorris@gmail.com).

Oh...and we're gonna rise again.

2010-06-17T14:33:00.002-04:00

So I struggle with the urge every day to put something up on facebook about biking. How far I have been riding...how awesome it has been...how much weight I'm losing...etc. Sometimes I win the struggle and refrain from posting (because I'm sure most people find it annoying to read someone's status updates, when they're all about exercising). Other times I give in to the awesomeness I feel and post it regardless.

Anyway, a thought occurred to me this morning. Hey, I have a blog. This blog is purely about me. Coincidentally, it is also owned and operated by me. I can just say whatever I want.

So, here goes.

I've gone riding at a lot of parks over the past few weeks. I've been to Tribble Mill, Harbins, Rock Springs, Bay Creek, Mulberry, the other side of Mulberry, Ivy Creek Greenway, and Suwanee Greenway. All of them have their positives and their negatives. I have found, however, that there is one park that stands head and shoulders above the rest...Mulberry Park (actually, I think it's really Little Mulberry Park, but I don't really pay much attention to the signs when I arrive or when I leave).

The main trail at Mulberry is a 2.2-mile loop. With the exception of one stretch of about a quarter mile, it is all wooded (read: shaded...meaning I only sweat 3/4 of a gallon, rather than the full gallon). There are hills, but they aren't ridiculous, "chain-buster" type hills. They are just enough to challenge a rider to push harder, so as to not fall into complacency.

I ride this trail (usually) 4 laps in the morning and 4 laps after work. Each visit to the park results in 8.8 miles. I make sure to park at least 1/10 of a mile away from the entrance to the trail, so I can be honest in saying I rode a full 9 miles. This results in 18 miles a day. That's not too shabby if you ask me, considering that just a month ago, I was thrilled in averaging around 6 or so.

I don't really know that I'll be able to work this daily total up. This, however, is due to time constraints alone. I know it's probably frustrating for Kimberly when I don't get home every night until almost 7:00. I really appreciate her flexability and willingness to see me get into better shape...which brings me to my next point.

As I stated in my last (and so far, only) blog post about biking, I was not sure how much, if any, weight I had lost. Well, I know now. I have lost 23 pounds. As of Tuesday, June 15th, my weight was 267.0 lbs. I have no idea when the last time was that I was in the 260's. I definitely know I haven't been that low in the 6 years Kimberly and I have been married. I still have a long way (like at least 60 more pounds) to go, but so far I feel I'm off to a great start, and it doesn't seem nearly as daunting as it did a month ago.

Right now, I'm looking forward to a couple of things:

1) A week from this Saturday, I plan on going to ride the Silver Comet Trail. This starts in Smyrna, GA and goes all the way into Alabama. Naturally, I doubt I'll be able to ride all the way to Alabama, but I plan on starting around 8:00am, riding four hours, and turning around to ride back. Given my estimated average speed (and that this trail is mostly flat, from what I understand), I am estimating that I can cover somewhere from 60-70 miles just in one day. I'm pretty excited about it.

2) The following Saturday, Kimberly, Cohen, and I are leaving for the beach for a week, as we do every year with her family. Normally, this is a time when I let myself go, even more than normal. This will not be the case this year. I'm taking the bike with me. I plan on getting some BIG miles under me over the course of the week...and I won't have work hanging over me, limiting the amount of time I will have to ride.

Uh oh...

2010-05-26T13:10:00.002-04:00

Over the last month or so, Kimberly and I have found that Cohen loves to have about 3-5 minutes of "naked time" before his bath. I drop the diaper, and he shoots off through the house like a rocket. This has gone on without incident for about a month.

Last night, however, after about 3 fast-paced laps around his room, he ran over to his wagon (which houses his assortment of balls). He pulled a little basketball out of the bucket, and as I looked over to him, he looked back at me with a look of fear on his face. He was peeing. He stopped, took two steps back, and just kept on peeing some more. My initial reaction was "Oh no!". Almost immediately after that, I chuckled, told him it was okay, and alerted Kimberly of the situation.

I don't know if it was my initial "Oh no", or the fact that he probably has never actually seen himself pee, but he was horrified by the whole situation. He screamed and cried and carried on, and it took about 5 minutes to calm him down before we could brush his teeth and actually get him into the bath.

It's a nice little story to hold on to for when he is a teenager and has friends over.

Who would've thought?

2010-05-17T08:23:00.003-04:00

I've been what you'd call a "big guy" for about 20 years. I was a stick-thin kid until around 5th or 6th grade, then I just added a little weight here and there, never really taking any off. I don't think I ever actually got to the 300 mark that I know of, but when I went to the doctor 4 months after my 30th birthday, I weighed in at around 290.

It only slightly bothered me. I've always been a happy-go-lucky kind of guy. I never really killed myself about my weight. It didn't depress me. As far as I was concerned, I had a lot of other qualities that I liked about myself just fine, so I didn't let the weight get me down. Sure, I didn't necessarily enjoy being the fat guy, but all in all, I have a pretty sweet life, so who am I to complain? Over the past six years, Kimberly would make me go out and walk with her occasionally (I mean occasionally, like 2-3 times a year). It would be torture. I didn't want to do it, and I was miserable the whole time.

About a month ago, something just kind of clicked. I dont' know what it was. It was a Sunday morning, and Kimberly had "dragged me" out to the park under the guise of "We'll walk a little bit, then let Cohen play on the playground". Well, far be it from me to deny Cohen his precious swing time. I reluctantly agreed.

About 3/4 of the way through the 3 mile walk was when I noticed it...Hey, this is kind of killing me....but I kind of don't mind it. I think I could do this more often. I mentioned to Kimberly that I think I could be down for doing this at least once if not twice a week, and she was ecstatic.

Meanwhile, my buddy Nate had taken up biking. Actually, quite a few of my friends had cioncidentally taken up biking all around the same time. I had tried it a few years back, but I didn't really enjoy it all that much, so my bike had been collecting dust (more specifically, pollen and spiders) for about 6 years. I was content to keep walking with Kimberly.

A couple of weeks went by, and I was enjoying (well, not hating) the walking. Our jogging stroller has an iPod dock, so we would listen to a little inspirational music (BuckCherry, Squad Five-O, The Darkness) and do it a couple of times a week. At the end, I'd be drenched in sweat, but I felt good about it nonetheless. I couldn't help but think, though...if I did this on my bike, I could cover a lot more ground and do it faster.

One Saturday afternoon, hockey was cancelled because of rain that never actually came, so I had my chance. I pulled the bike off the wall, washed it off (with a hose from a distance....you know...the spiders), pumped up the tires and threw it in the back of my car. Off to Tribble Mill park I went.

Holy crap it was miserable.

I did the same 3 mile path Kimberly and I walk. It is pretty hilly. Some people don't mind the hills because - you know - every hill you go up, you also get to go down. I'm not one of those people. I finished the trail in about 22 minutes (it takes us about 40-45 to walk), and when I dismounted the bike, I almost fell down because my legs were absolutely killing me. Kimberly and I went the next morning and walked that same trail again, and I told her that I may not be able to keep up because my legs were so sore from the previous day's ride. As it turns out, I was able to keep up. I realized that while I was pretty sore, it didn't seem to bother me as much as I expected it to. I decided to go try it again on the bike the next chance I got.

That chance was the following Saturday afternoon. Once again, I loaded up the bike and headed out to the park. This time I finished in around 15 minutes. My legs still hurt, but it was slightly more bearable this time. I was actually getting a little excited about the prospect of riding more often.

My friend Nate is quite up to speed on all the local parks and trails, and he knows all the best places to ride. He mentioned the Ivy Creek Greenway, which is less than a half mile from where I work. I decided to go ride it Tuesday after work. It was pretty good...being the seasoned rider I was (you know...two 3 mile rides under my belt), I was able to knock it out pretty quick. I went home having ridden about 4 miles feeling pretty satisfied with myself.

Two days later, on Thursday, I went to the same trail after work. I went about 5 and a half miles that day. Other than heading straight from there to band practice, only to get laughed at for being soaked with sweat, it was a pretty good experience. Every time I rode, I covered just a little more ground than the previous time, and I was feeling pretty good about it.

I hadn't planned on riding Friday. Kimberly and I had an end-of-the-year teacher party to attend that night, so timing was going to be a little tight. I started out the door to head home, and I just couldn't do it...I had to do at least something. I went with Nate over to Rock Springs park and put in a quick three miles before heading home.

All in all, I was drastically improving every time I rode. This past Saturday, in a twist of fate, my entire day's schedule opened up at the last minute. Jackpot! I decided to test out my endurance and see how much I could do. I headed out to the Suwanee Creek Greenway. Where I parked was right in the middle of the trail, with about 2.5 miles on either side. I started left. I rode the 2.5 miles to the end and back....okay, that's 5 miles. When I got back, I decided to go right. I went about a mile going that way and came back. This brings my total to 7 miles. As usual, I was pretty sore and pretty tired, but I felt good about it. I thought to myself, I'll head toward home and stop at Rock Springs park. Maybe I'll do 3 miles there to bring it to an even ten for the day.

Rock Springs park has a 1/3 mile track, so it's easy to ride in increments, knowing exactly how far you've gone. I finished the first mile. Then I finished the second mile. Right around the time I was wrapping up the third mile, I thought, I think I can do a little more. So I just kept going around the track. 4 miles. 5 miles. I just kept going. By the time I stopped, I had ridden 7 miles on the track. This brought my total to 14 miles. In one day. This may not mean a lot to you, or to someone who rides regularly, but it's absolutely huge for me. I can't remember the last time I felt so good about something I had accomplished!

Sunday, after doing some around-the-house stuff we needed to knock out, Kimberly and I took Cohen to the park and walked again. It felt great. Despite having ridden 14 miles the previous day, my legs could not only handle the brisk walk but also the occasional bursts of jogging up hills. Can this actually be happening? Am I exercising? Am I making progress?

I had decided not to ride on Sunday. After getting back from the park, we jumped in the pool for a while. My plan was to climb out of the pool and watch the Braves game a little after 1:00. By 1:45, I could stand it...I had to go back to the park and ride some more. Rock Springs it was. After 9 laps around the track (3 miles), I decided to call it a day. I got back in the car and made it almost to the park gate before turning back around. I knew I had more in me than that. I went back to the track and strapped on my skates (the inlines I use for hockey). I had no idea what to expect. Maybe I'd do a lap or two and see how it went. I had finally had my fill after 6 laps. That was 3 miles on a bike and 2 miles on skates.

I couldn't believe how good I was feeling about all this! I went to bed Sunday night excited about my upcoming ride today after work. I planned on going back to Rock Springs (my new favorite place) and log about 7 more miles or so. The thought had crossed my mind that I could maybe do it before work, since I didn't have to take Cohen to Snellville this morning. However, in my old age lately, fully waking up has been harder and harder every day.

When I woke up this morning, I was just as groggy as I usually am. As Kimberly left for work, I decided that I should just go out and try it. Worst-case-scenario, if I didn't like it, I'd just go back after work, as was my original plan anyway. I pulled into the park, still rubbing my eyes and trying to fully wake myself up. Despite my muddled head, I climbed on my bike, put the iPod on GNR's Appetite for Destruction, and started pedaling. By the end of mile 1, my eyes were wide, my vision was clear, and I was fully awake. My legs hurt, but that hadn't stopped me yet, so I wasn't going to let it get to me today, either.

45 minutes later I was at the shop, changing out of my sweat-drenched clothes and cleaning up for work, having ridden 7 miles.

Just in case you haven't caught the theme here...I feel great! The fact that I would be exercising in and of itself is almost foreign to me, but the fact that I'm exercising and enjoying it...well, that's just ridiculous! I really think I'm starting to become addicted to riding my bike. Even having done the 7 miles this morning, I can't wait until work is over, so I can to at least seven more before I go home. Maybe I'll do ten, just to top Saturday!

I have no idea how much weight, if any, I have lost. Though I haven't changed my diet drastically, I have started eating more sensible portions. Also, I have cut out about 90 percent of my soda intake and replaced it with water. Instead of grabbing a handful of chips before going to bed, I have been drinking a glass of V8 splash (you know...the juice that has a complete serving of fruits and vegetables in each glass).

Point of it all is that it only took two weeks to get comfortable with a signifantly more active lifestyle.

I'm pretty happy about it.

Today I didn't even have to use my AK...

2010-04-06T09:22:00.005-04:00

Ever have one of those days, when everything is just awesome?

Yesterday, when I got to work in the morning, one of our first calls was from Nick Dixon, the clubhouse manager for the Gwinnett Braves. He said he needed us to do some nameplates for him. We've done nameplates for the G-Braves in the past. We did them for the offices of the Manager, General Manager, Marketing people, etc. So I was quite surprised when he came in later with a player's locker nameplate he wanted us to reproduce! I get giddy whenever we do anything having to do with the Gwinnett Braves. Now, I get to make the nameplates that are going on the lockers of the likes of Jordan Schafer, Gregor Blanco, Brandon Jones, etc. You may not know all those guys, but I do, and I'm pretty darn excited about it.

THEN, I saw a facebook update from Kris Oas, mentioning that the McDonalds in Lawrenceville has the super-fancy, futuristic, touch screen Coke fountain machine. This machine has over 100 flavor options, including Sprite in the flavors of grape, raspberry, and peach; and Coke in the flavors of Vanilla, Lime, Grape, Orange, Raspberry. As soon as Oas confirmed which McDonalds it was, I was on my way. I started out with a little Grape Sprite, followed by Orange Coke, followed by Grape Vault, and closed it out with Peach Sprite, and I was on my way. Every flavor was awesome. I'm a "new soft drink flavor" nerd, so it was like Christmas for me.

THEN, after I got back to work, the waiting game started. It was....wait for it....BRAVES OPENING DAY! The game was set to start at 4:00. I would have loved to actually go to the opening game, and for the life of me, I really don't know why I didn't. I did enjoy getting a nice update from Chris on Jason Heyward's debut at-bat/debut home run. As soon as the clock hit 5:30, I was out the door to go home and watch the last half of the game.

When I got home, it was about 5:45. Kimberly and Cohen walked in the door shortly after. Cohen immediately ran into the living room and grabbed the (nerf-style) baseball, and we played catch for about 15 minutes (for real...the kid's got an arm!). He then took the ball and stood in front of the TV, mimicking the pitcher, throwing the ball everytime the pitcher threw the ball. It was quite possibly my proudest moment to date as a father.

As the game was winding down (16-5 was the final score), I hopped in the car and headed over to Mike's house for Last Chucks practice. It was a pretty good practice. Hot as crap, and I was sweating through my shirt by the second song, but that's okay.

Point of it all is...yesterday was an all-around awesome day. No barking from the dog. No smog. The Lakers beat the Supersonics. And, I even saw the lights of the Goodyear Blimp.

Went to a GH show, and a SFO show broke out.

2010-03-22T08:59:00.002-04:00

This past Saturday morning started out like any other Saturday morning does. Kimberly went to walk with her mom while I fed Cohen his breakfast and we played for a little while. After she got home, I handed the little guy off to her and headed to hockey.

I had no idea that I was about to have quite possibly the best Saturday night of my life.

In between games at hockey, I routinely check my phone. This week was no different. Only this time, I had a text message from Jason (you know...from the Anthem blogs). It stated:

FYI there's gonna be a squad reunion tonight in ATL

WHAT?

(back story)
You may or may not know. I mentioned in a previous blog post that we (members of Anthem) were big fans of Squad Five-O. I may have understated that a bit. Squad Five-O is one of my two absolute, hands-down, favorite bands of all time (the other is Five Iron Frenzy). I first saw Squad when I was seventeen, and over the next 6 years, I saw them about 30-40 more times. No exaggerating. I am really pretty sure I saw them that many times. They broke up about five years ago, and I was pretty sure it was for real over, and I'd never see them again.

Squad Five-O had (at one point) five members. Jeff Fortson sang. His brother John Fortson played bass. Adam Garbinski played guitar. Dave Petersen (formerly of Blaster the Rocketboy) played drums, and Kris Klein played second guitar.

After they broke up, John moved to Orlando and joined a band called Gasoline Heart with Louis Defabrizio. Adam and Dave started their own band. Jeff went back to school.

When Jason and Brent moved to Orlando, they ran into John one night, and they became friends. Jason eventually joined Gasoline heart for a while.

(flash back to present times)
When I called Jason back after his text on Saturday, he said that Gasoline Heart was on their way to play a show in Marietta, and they were picking up Jeff on the way. I later learned that Gasoline Heart was (kind of) breaking up, and this was a last horrah before Louis moved to New York. They had apparently been practicing a few Squad Five-O songs, and were planning on bringing Jeff and playing the SFO songs that night.

Okay, cool, I thought. Even if it's not a full on Squad Five-O lineup, it'll still be nice to see John and Jeff play together...plus I like Gasoline Heart, anyway. This will definitely be a good show.

Kimberly and I dropped Cohen off at my parents' to spend the night, and up to Marietta we went. When we walked into the place (The Local...a bar within another bar), I saw John. Then I saw Jeff. This is really happening!, I thought. Kimberly and I were grabbing a bite to eat within the restaurant part of the place, and we could see through the windows into stage area. I saw Louis. I saw a few other people I recognized. Then I saw...Adam Garbinski? And who's that with him...is that...Dave Petersen?!?!

Holy crap! Squad Five-O is really here!

We ran into a few old friends and caught up with them through the opening act (who, I'm pretty sure, was originally supposed to be the headlining act), and then Gasoline Heart was set to go.

I've seen Gasoline Heart a few times. They're really good. This time was different, though. They were GREAT. When they started playing, I realized that Adam and Dave were actually playing in GH. They weren't in the band in previous times I saw them, but hey, I'm not complaining. They ran through about 7 or 8 songs, then Louis said "Hey Jeff, come on up." He then addressed us and said "We've got a little surprise for you".

Then Squad Five-O played.

We were pressed up against the stage, because there was no way we were going to stand in the back for this one. It was amazing. Squad only played two of their original songs, then they played 3 covers. It was intense, though. I had forgotten why I loved this band so much in the first place! So much energy! So much fun! So much interaction with the crowd! Jeff spent the first song on top of the crowd (there are few times that I feel "crowd surfing" is acceptable, but in my mind, Jeff will ALWAYS be allowed).

I felt like I was 19 again. I acted like I was 19 again. I jumped. I clapped. I screamed. I sang along at the top of my lungs. By the time the show was over, Kimberly and I had both lost our voices.

Since Brent knows John from Orlando, we walked behind the stage when the show was over. We shook hands, exchanged hugs, and took pictures. We were about to leave, and I mentioned to Jeff, "Dude, how old is your daughter now?" He replied "She'll be eleven soon". ELEVEN! I've seen Jeff's daughter once. She was a newborn! We talked a little about the old days. We talked about The Pteradactyl club (where we were first introduced to Squad) and Spudgun (who Squad used to play with all the time).

Then, we were about to leave again. We walked out the back door. Kimberly and Cyndi went back in to go to the bathroom, and John came out and we chatted for a few minutes. When the girls came back, we just stayed out there and talked to John (and Dave showed up and hung out too). We talked about our kids; about how his daughter loves trucks and didn't want him to leave to come play the show today; about how Cohen skipped "mama" and just calls Kimberly "mom". We talked in depth and at length about the plotline and characters of LOST.

Basically, we hung out like we were old friends. And in a way, I guess we were. I never knew them in the past, and they never knew me. I felt like I knew them, though. I have felt like I have known them for the past thirteen years.

I'd like to thank four people in specific for making this possible.

1. Darrel Boyer - He took us to our first Squad Five-O show in December of 1996. Coincidentally, he was at the show this past Saturday night. It was awesome catching up with him.

2. Brent - for meeting John in Orlando. If he didn't know John, I still would have been starstruck that night, and Kimberly and I would have sheepishly walked away after the show, having not talked to my teen idols.

3. Jason - If he wasn't looking out for us, I would have never known that the show was even happening.

4. Kimberly - At first, I was worried she wouldn't be cool with going out late for the show. Fortunately, I neglected to remember that not only does she miss going to shows just as much as I do, she also loves Squad Five-O too. I think she had just as much fun as I did.

Thanks everybody. I'll never forget it.

The ever-progressing musical career of Daniel Dorris, Part IV

2010-03-12T07:45:00.004-05:00

(continued) After about 5 or six months, Mike and I decided that it would probably just be best to move on and find a new drummer. Re-Enter Goose.

Right around this time, Lily was pregnant with Reese (their third). They already had twins, Ty and Nolan. Mike and (his lady) Hilary had one boy, Holden. By that point, we had a pretty standard process for dealing with events such as new babies, as far as participation in a band was concerned. When a baby was born, we would take about a month-long hiatus for the new daddy to get acclimated with his newly altered homelife, then once a certain comfort level was reached, we'd jump back to it.

The only problem with this is that really only one band "jumped back to it". Thank goodness for Mike's persistence. The Last Chucks got back to work (or play, I suppose), and Santa Maria never really recovered. It wasn't really because of the new baby, though. Back in Anthem, it was hard to get 5 guys together to practice regularly, and we were all young adults with no children back then. Add about 4 or 5 years to that, and it's even harder. Jobs got busier, lives became more hectic, schedules didn't coordinate well, and it's just darn near impossible to get 5 guys together to practice with any kind of regularity. It's a shame, too. Some of those Santa Maria songs are awesome, and we just flat out stopped playing them. So, after over a year and a half of preparation, Santa Maria ended in a whimper...having never played a show. We did record a 4 song demo. It will be filed in the "Songs I Play On" playlist on my iPod, along with Anthem and The Last Chucks. I will remember it fondly.

As I said though, The Last Chucks were back at it. When Goose joined The Chucks, we started working on only four songs. These were songs that we were planning on recording, so we wanted to get those down first before working on anything else.

I'll be completely honest with you. When Goose joined The Last Chucks, I knew he was a good drummer. I had played with the guy for about ten years at this point. But here's the thing...Brian (Goose's predecessor) was a great drummer. As hard as these songs were to learn on Bass, they were even harder on drums. I was really hoping Goose would be able to keep up, but I won't lie...I was worried. As it turns out...I was worried over absolutely nothing. Goose came in and not only surprised me, but amazed me with how fast he picked up the songs. As an example...we have a song called Spider. It took me about 3-4 weeks worth of practices to learn completely. It took Goose about an hour.

In May of 2008, we went into the studio (read: Jason's mom's house) to record. Oh, I didn't mention...when Jason (formerly of Anthem, for those keeping score at home) went to Orlando, his main objective was attending Full Sail University, which specialized in entertainment, music, recording engineering, etc. By the time he finished, he had become quite the producer (or recording engineer, or whatever he's called). We had him come up for a weekend to record the aforementioned four songs. The weekend went relatively well. We got three of the songs finished. *Side note: Jason also recorded the previously mentioned Santa Maria 4-song demo.

One of the songs, Bluebird Revisited, found its way onto the Diner Junkie Records compilation, Open 24 Hours. Another song, "What Can Bring A Smile" will be on a compilation cd which will be released in a month or so.

After recording, we spent the next year and a half working on the rest of the songs. There were more breaks over the course of the year, as Kimberly and I had our first baby, Cohen. In September of 2009, Mike and Hilary welcomed their second boy, Jack. In December, Goose and Lily were blessed for an all-too-short time with Evie (whose story you can read at bilslandfamily.blogspot.com ...again, no html...just copy and paste). Point is, we all had important things in our lives. Things that were/are more important than playing in a band, regardless of how good the band is.

So here we are. It's 2010, and we're still doing it. Well, by "still doing it", I mean we're getting together once a week to take out our frustrations on our instruments. The songs are still great. We're pretty dang good at them, being that we've been playing them for a number of years now.

Mike and I have different philosophies on a myriad of things, but one of the differences applicable to this story is the emphasis placed on recording versus playing live. In an ideal world, we'd be doing both. That's not the case, however. Mike loves the recording process...the ins and outs of it...the retakes, the tweaking, the scientific approach. I'm more of a live show kind of guy, myself. I love nothing more than to get up on a stage and play for an hour (or longer, as was the case in most of Anthem's shows). I don't want people to hear my band play. I want them to see us play.

Problem is...we're doing neither. Scheduling and money are hurdles as far as recording is concerned. I've been pushing Mike to book some shows, and hopefully it will happen sooner rather than later, but up to now, it hasn't.

All in all, I'm still satisfied with where my musical career has brought me so far. I have a wonderful wife and son. I have a job that I (most of the time) love. AND, I still get to play music regularly. My personal income from music is a total of $150 over the past twelve years (the Anthem fund was divided by three and doled out when Jason and Brent split...sorry guys). As Buckcherry states, though, "I didn't do it for money. I did it all for free. I did it all to fill the f***ing hole inside of me".

In addition to the weekly play-along with The Chucks, I have also recently taken up playing in the youth praise and worship band at Central Baptist Church. I started out in the summer of 2009 on bass, just to see how it'd go. After a chain of events, I now find myself playing guitar temporarily. I initially just thought it'd be fun to go in and play around with some simple songs once a week. Here lately though, I have taken it a lot more seriously. I have had a revelation of sorts, and I now realize that I am taking part in facilitating an atmosphere of worship for the students in attendance. Things have been going much better since that realization. I feel like my playing now has more of a purpose than simply entertaining myself once a week.

That, my friends, is the short version of my musical life from 1998-2010. I hope (but doubt) that you have found it as interesting to read as I have found it to remember. Maybe in 2022 I'll post another four-parter updating my faithful few readers on what has transpired in the subsequent 12 years. Until then, I'll continue to post things that make me mad/make me laugh on my one square acre of the internet.

Oh, and I think I'll start telling some of those war stories, too.

The ever-progressing musical career of Daniel Dorris, Part III

2010-03-11T08:28:00.004-05:00

(Continued) We played our last show in July of 2005.

We had tons of friends come watch our last show. One of these friends was Mike Cammarata, of the Last Chucks. He made mention that night that he was thinking about starting a second band of his own...a more straight-forward rock and roll type project. Since Jason and Brent were moving to Orlando, maybe Goose, Doug, and I should look into this with him. We said sure. Then nothing happened with this project for about a year and a half.

February 2006: I had not played with a band for almost seven months. Despite a healthy marriage, a good job, and an overall happy life, I still felt incomplete. I had played in a band almost constantly since I was seventeen, and now I had nothing. Then one day, I was rooting around on MySpace, and I saw a bulletin that my friend Mike from The Chucks was looking for a bass player.

Going back to the paragraph where I mentioned playing bass in the church band...I didn't mention the fact that I absolutely loved playing bass. In the last few years of Anthem, I had secret fantasies that included Doug having to leave the band for some reason, and me having to fill in at bass. Nothing against Doug, mind you. He's a good friend and a good bass player. I was just jealous.

Back to the story: I answered Mike's bulletin, borrowed a bass, and headed over to his house to practice with him and Brian Cook (Beaker) on drums. Things went well, I suppose, as they liked me enough to let me join. We spent the next few months getting me up to speed on the songs, then started playing out again.

We did a little traveling. We played on the Clemson campus once in South Carolina. We played in Birmingham, Alabama with The Queers (an honor for any fan of punk music). Mostly though, we practiced. The Last Chucks had changed since they had played with Anthem early on. The songs were more complex. They required a lot of thought, talent, and practice to play. Learning and playing the songs was somewhat of a puzzle - a challenge...and I welcomed it. It boosted my skill level exponentially more than I ever would have had the wherewithal or the desire to do myself. I will forever give Mike Cammarata credit for being probably the best songwriter I know personally, if not the best songwriter I know of, period.

December 2006: On a whim one night, I decided that Goose, Doug, and I needed to get together to play some Anthem songs in my basement. The songs were too fun to just let disappear...they needed to be played. We set up in our living room downstairs and realized that we didn't have any microphones. It occurred to me that I had taken all of them to Mike's house for Last Chucks stuff. This ended up being a good opportunity to call Mike and see if he wanted to bring a couple of them over, along with his guitar, and we'd see about this side project we had talked about a year and a half prior.

Things went smashingly. That night, I pulled out a song I had written and we ran through it. Everything felt good. The song (Looking For My Place) was catchy, and we decided to build off of it. Mike got to work, this time writing straight-forward rock songs. It was a great experience. I had my technichal band in The Last Chucks, and I also had my fun rock band, which was untitled for about a year. Naming bands is no easy task, my friend.

After a few months, we (the new, yet-unnamed band) had a solid set's worth of songs, and we heard that Brent may be moving back from Orlando. Mike had been singing up to that point, but he really didn't want to be the frontman of this band. He just wanted to play guitar and be in the background. We decided that Brent would fit right in to this group upon his moving back. If only we had a name of this band, things would be complete.

I'd love to tell you we have some cool story behind the name we came up with, but the truth is, there isn't. After spending literally hours trying to come up with something on multiple occasions over the course of a year, we discussed and discarded such names as The Blue Jeans, The Ruckus, and a slew of others that I fail to remember at this point. Finally, someone (I'm pretty sure it was Mike) threw out "Santa Maria". Some of us loved it, some of us thought it was okay, and some of us didn't really care anymore. Point is, none of us hated it, so that became the name...Santa Maria.

Mike and I pulled double-duty between the two bands for a while. Sunday was practice day. We would have Chucks practice at his house around 1:00, then we would have Santa Maria practice at my house around 5:00. This went on probably about a year, until one day I showed up for Chucks practice, and Brian wasn't there yet.

And he never showed up.

He didn't call, email, or anything. A week went by without his returning any calls. Then two weeks. Then a month. Then two months. It was the strangest thing. The guy just flat-out disappeared! We knew he was alive, as a friend of ours saw him in Athens one day. He just never made any contact with us at all.

After about 5 or six months, Mike and I decided that it would probably just be best to move on and find a new drummer. Re-Enter Goose.

To Be Continued...

The ever-progressing musical career of Daniel Dorris, Part II - Whoa Oh! I Wanna Rock and Roll!

2010-03-09T09:03:00.005-05:00

(Continued)

Hmm...Anthem! That's it! The band will be called Anthem!

Goose, Brent and I had our new rock and roll band and were off to the races. We signed with an up-and-coming new record label called Four Ring Records (started by a co-pastor at Faith Life Fellowship) and went in to the studio (read: our friend Dave Rigg's house) to record our full-length album, 2 Close 4 Comfort. We never actually finished the album, though we did compile enough recordings to create what could be construed as a full-length project.

About two years into the Anthem era, it was evident that Brent was the animated-frontman type and that being behind a bass was holding him back. Enter Doug E. Knight.

Oh, before I go any further, there is something I neglected to mention earlier...stage names. Brent (whose given name is James Brent Dorris), became Jimmy B. Anthem. I (Daniel Martin Dorris), became Danny M. Anthem. Goose...well, he's Goose. His real name is David Mark Bilsland, but ever since I met the guy, he always has been, and always will be Goose. Douglas Edgar Banks became Doug E. Knight...he's a fan of Batman...you know, the Dark Knight.

Anyway, as a four-piece, we persevered forward. We were all decent enough musicians. Nothing spectacular, but it got the job done. We were playing clubs and bars regularly (and the occasional outdoor Christian music festival). Our first show at The Last Great Watering Hole, a bar that would soon be one of our regular venues, was with a band we were friends with called The Last Chucks.

As time went by, we were playing more often, and it became apparent that we really needed a second guitar player. We were a little pickier this time than we were when Doug joined. Not that Doug wasn't good, mind you...but when he joined, he hadn't played bass before. He learned how to play as he went along. He progressed very quickly. But as for a second guitar player, this guy needed to be good. He needed to be the one musician that put us over the top; that made us a genuine good rock and roll band. The first guy we tried was Jason Mask. We went over to his house and set up the band in his basement. We ran through a few songs with Jason, and after we finished, we asked him to stay inside while we walked out and talk about some things. I believe once we got outside, the conversation went something like:

"Wow"
"I know, right?"
"He's pretty awesome"
"So, we don't really need to discuss this, do we?"
"I don't think so"
"So, he's in?"
"Yeah."

Enter C.J. Mask.

As a solid five-piece, we spent the next few years playing out quite regularly. We never made our way out of Atlanta, but we played a pretty heavy rotation of The Last Great Watering Hole, Anthony's, 9 Lives Saloon, Presidio, etc. There are a ton of "war stories" from this time period. Maybe I will create a blog series on that one day soon. Although, some of those involve rivalries, hard feelings, and various shenanigans, so I may have to choose wisely.

The problem with this is that we became comfortable. Or, at least that was my problem. We were comfortable with playing out regluarly. We never persued more; never tried to sign with a real label (Four Rings had long since folded); never tried to tour.

Understandibly, this frustrated Jason. He was the real premier musician in the group. He had hopes and dreams that included a musical career. We weren't in the same place as Jason. In June 2004, I got married (to the aforementioned hot little number, Kimberly). A month later, Goose married Lily (that story you can read for yourself at bilslandfamily.blogspot.com - sorry, no link, because I don't know crap about html). We were starting households. We were starting families.

Jason approached us in 2005 and told us he was moving to Orlando. Brent was also looking for some kind of a change, as his life had fallen into somewhat of a rut, so he went with Jason. We played our last show in July of 2005.

I still listen to the recording of that show regularly. The sound quality is crap, but the memories are as clear as can be.

(to be continued)

The ever-progressing musical career of Daniel Dorris, Part I

2010-03-06T15:27:00.002-05:00

I have around twelve years experience of playing in bands. Those twelve years have been a chain of events...one leading to another, leading to another, etc. I have always wanted to chronicle these events, so this past December, I started writing it down.

The story is too long to put in one blog entry, so I'll break it up. Here is part one...the early years.

I currently play in a band called The Last Chucks. It's a trio consisting of myself (on bass and backups), Mike Cammarata (on guitar and lead vocals), and Goose (on drums...and is learning backups). I love the band. We play together once a week, with the occasional hiatis. We have not played an official show in about two years, but we're working on that...I think it's a valid goal for the upcoming year.

I've been a part of this band for...sheesh...about four years now.

I was just thinking about how I got to this point, so I will chronicle for you the ongoing musical career of Daniel Dorris

Summer 1998: I was fresh out of high school (having just started dating this hot little number named Kimberly). My best buddy Goose had just started drumming for a band called Stronghold (with Adam Linton on bass and Adam Wilson on guitar and vocals). I had played (guitar, at that point) with Goose for the previous year or so at church and in the occasional, go-nowhere, noisy high school punk band. I was a little bummed that Goose had a band to play in, and I did not. If memory serves me correctly, I had him convince Adam Wilson that they needed a second guitar player. Soon enough, I was in the band.

We played our fair share of shows over the next year or so, traveling to Toccoa a couple of times, and even as far as Charleston, SC once. Alas, creative differences were the downfall of Stronghold (read: I kept messing with Wilson, playing stuff he hated, and he got mad and disbanded us). Adam Linton became a lifetime friend, and Adam Wilson was seldom heard from again.

May 1999: Goose's brother, Steve had been a youth pastor at a church in Norcross, GA. He called me and asked me to take over his job, as he was leaving to go to college. I (naively) took him up on his offer, and was soon employed by Faith Life Fellowship. Honestly, I had no business being in a pastoral position. I was 19 years old. As a result, however, I had the pleasure of playing bass in the church praise band. This will be important later in the story.

September 1999: Having not played in a proper rock band for a few months, Goose and I were starting to get a little antsy. We decided to start our own band with my brother, Brent (who would sing and play bass). The band was to be called: February Days. No, wait: Kimbo Red. No, wait: We couldn't think of a name. That didn't stop us, though. We started writing amazing and brilliant songs such as "S.N.O.T.S.W.O.W (Song Number One, The Song WithOut Words)", "Friends", and "In The Morning". We were all big fans of a band called Squad Five-O at the time. Squad had morphed into a faux 80's glam-metal-type of concoction and specialized in rock anthems. Hmm...Anthem! That's it! The band will be called Anthem!

(to be continued...probably soon...I already have the stuff written.)

A good problem?

2010-03-04T14:32:00.003-05:00

You know what bugs the crap out of me? Being so slammed at work that I can't take 30 seconds to sit and collect my thoughts over the course of the day, and some jackass says, "Oh, you're really busy? That's a good problem to have!"

I know what you mean, but I DON'T CARE! Maybe when we have died back down and are at a somewhat normal pace for our business, I'll look back and say "Hmm, that was a nice problem we had". Until then, though, I'll continue to be stressed out, frustrated, and (I think) going gray because of this amazing problem I have.

And another thing...that's isn't a good problem for me to have. It's a good problem for my bosses to have. My paycheck is the same whether we do $10,000 a month or $100,000 a month. Oh, I know...job security, blah, blah, blah. Truth is, I have job security regardless of how busy we are.

Stupid Little League baseball and their 200 teams from 5 different parks all ordering banners that they need by the end of this week.

Maybe I should have just written a book...

2009-12-28T10:26:00.006-05:00

Another Christmas has come and gone. All the presents have been opened. All the chaos has subsided. All the travel is finished. All in all, I'd call it a success. Then again, this was my 31st Christmas, and I am yet to see an unsuccessful one.

Christmas Eve
The festivities began at 5:00 on Christmas Eve with the candle light service at Central Baptist. It was nice enough, although I find it hard to enjoy such an old-fashioned 1950's way of experiencing church. Traditional can be nice sometimes, but I don't understand how the regular attendees there can bear it week in and week out.

The church service was followed immediately by the Swanson family gathering at Kimberly's aunt and uncle's house. It's always fun and nice. The food is good, and everyone is friendly and in good spirits. There are only two downsides of this:

1. The house is the same size as it has always been, and the family has been growing faster and faster over the recent years as all the kids are growing up, getting married, and having kids (admittedly, Kimberly and I are part of this problem as well).

2. This has conflicted with a small tradition my own family has had for the past 19 years: the annual family Christmas Eve movie. This started when my brother, sister, and I were bouncing off the walls on Christmas Eve of 1990. My parents, in a last-ditch effort to settle us down, took us to the theater to see Home Alone. We enjoyed it so much that we just kept doing it every year.

I'll admit, the DK Dorris' are responsible for breaking this tradition. Everyone in my immediate family is married now. I have a kid, and Shaunna has one on the way. With all of the big doings (that I will soon be delving into), Cohen needs to get a decent amount of sleep. With everything else going on, we just didn't have the time for the movie. Initially I put up a big fight about it. I wanted to keep the tradition alive. After a lengthy discussion however, I finally gave in. After thinking about it further, I came to the realization that it really would be for the best to skip out on it. I'd rather miss a movie and have Cohen well rested and good for all the next day's activities than make him stay up past his bedtime making him cranky all night and through the next day just so I could appease a nice tradition that once had purpose but is now practiced for the simple reason that it's what we always do.

Anyway, moving on...

Christmas Day
Christmas morning started for us around 6:00. Truth be told, I love Christmas morning, and even without having a kid, I would have wanted to get up that early anyway. Cohen just made it not look so silly for a 30-year-old to be up at 6:00 on Christmas morning. Cohen got up at that time on his own. We had our traditional sausage balls, pigs-in-blanket, and Quik Trip coffee breakfast, opened our presents, and were done by 10:00. At this point, we headed next door to the in-laws for Christmas: Round 2 (Round 3 if you count the Swanson Christmas Eve doings).

We actually have two Christmas-es at Kimberly's parents' house. The first is for her immediate family. This goes from about 10:00 till about 12:30. Then, at 1:00, Kimberly's aunt, uncle, cousins, and grandfather come over (this is the Hiatt side of the family, whereas Christmas Eve was the Swanson side).

So, basically from 10:00am until roughly 3:00pm, we have a five-hour eating/present opening marathon. It's actually a lot of fun if you don't mind a little chaos. There are 3 children present for the first half of it, and two more are added for the second half of it. (Side note: I can't wait until Cohen is the age that his cousin A.J. is now. Some of those toys look awesome, and I can't wait to play with them.)

Oh, but wait. We're not nearly done!

Around 3:00, we walk back over to our house. Cohen grabs a quick nap, while Kimberly showers, and I crash on the couch to recharge my own battery. At 4:00, we're in the car on the way to my parents' house. Given that Cohen is the only kid at this point, it's still a little more adult-oriented in that for the most part, it's nice and quiet. There's a lot of good conversation, and not a lot of general craziness. This will change, I'm sure, as in the next few years, Martha will be here and she and Cohen will be getting older, playing together, and creating all kinds of ruckus just like their parents did when they were kids.

Good times were had by all. Tons of snack food, lots of laughs, and a day's worth of being on the go had taken its toll on Cohen, Kimberly, and myself. We came home a little after 9:00, did some minimal straightening around the house, and while Kimberly went to bed, I made a quick run up to the shop. I had forgotten that I had promised my uncle in Tennessee that I would bring him some vinyl graphics. After getting the graphics ready to go and loading up my installation tools, I was back home and in bed by 11:00. We had a big day ahead of us.

Tennessee
One would think that a 4-hour drive with a one-year-old would be a challenge. For some people it may be, but for us it actually works out well. The first two hours are perfect for a long nap for Cohen. We stop for a few minutes to give him lunch, then the next two hours, he plays with some of his toys. Before you know it, we're pulling into my grandparents' house.

Day one was the Swann family gathering. I'll let you in on a little secret...between my mom's family and my dad's family, this is the one I look forward to and enjoy. I spent most of the evening catching up with grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins. The night was capped off with a rousing game of Taboo. I almost missed the game because Kimberly and I were going to go to bed, having had a busy couple of days, but I decided to stay up and play, just to even out the teams. I'm glad I did. It was nice spending an extra hour or two with the family. Pawpaw provided the lion's share of the entertainment during the game. If you don't know my Pawpaw...he's awesome and hilarious with a very distinct sense of humor that I've never seen with anyone else. All of his jokes are funny, even if only half of his jokes are intentional.

I finally crashed around midnight after a toilet/plunger debacle that I will not discuss further.

Sunday morning, it was up, breakfast, shower, pack, load, drive. We drove about 30 minutes to the booming metropolis of Greenbrier, TN, population 6,553 (in 2007). My dad's parents live on 40 acres at the end of a long road that has only been paved for a couple of years. It's beautiful land...but that's about all it is. Beautiful land. Fields surrounded by woods, with a little farm house sitting right in the middle of it. If we weren't in such a hurry to get back on the road; if we had time to relax and take it in, it would have been nice. This was not the case however. Our agenda for the day was: Go, say hi, eat lunch, catch up, then we have to go. And we did just that. We left their house at 2:30 (eastern), hit a little traffic around Chattanooga, then were home by 7:30.

To sum up, Christmas is fun. I have always been a fan, and I can't imagine a day when I won't look forward to it, enjoy it, and look back fondly at it. Both of our families (Swansons and Dorris' alike) do entirely too much for us. We're definitely thankful, but how could we possibly ask for more than the love and support they give us on a daily basis?

I got my first real experience in assembling toys this year. So far...not that bad. With the exception of a botched wagon assembly (nothing a little electrical tape wouldn't fix), things went without a hitch.

I look forward to it again next year.

I thought my high school days were over

2009-11-22T22:32:00.003-05:00

I recorded a documentary earlier in the evening on CNBC about the history of Coca-Cola. Meanwhile, the American Music Awards were on. As Whitney Houston was trying to convince us all that she's not on drugs anymore (I ain't buying it), the following conversation happened:

Daniel: Can I either have the laptop or the remote?
Kimberly: (tosses me the remote)
Daniel: (Accessing the DVR to watch the Coca-Cola story) I'd rather learn something.
Kimberly: You're a dork! Do you need to go into the bedroom to get your glasses, too?

I was a pretty big nerd in through middle school and early high school. All those feeling came rushing back to me as the "cool kid" in the family had a laugh at my expense.

McChing

2009-11-10T15:07:00.004-05:00

I drove by a McDonalds yesterday, and I saw the classic "Over 99 Billion Served" slogan on the sign. Obviously, this is an older sign, because McDonalds apparently announced their passing the "100 Billion" milestone on April 14th, 1994 (that's a fun little fact for you to keep). Since then, newer McDonalds have gone with the "Billions and Billions served" slogan (or no slogan at all) on their new signs.

Anyway...

This got me thinking. For the sake of argument, let's just use the 100 Billion number. Given that there are 6 billion people in the world, that would mean every man, woman, and child on earth would have to have gone to McDonalds an average of 16.67 times. Obviously, this average is actually higher, since it has been fifteen years since we passed the 100 Billion mark.

My thought process continued, and I wondered, how many times have I been to McDonalds? Well, we didn't really go to McDonalds a lot when I was a kid. To make things easier, I'll start when I was 16. I'm 30 now, so that makes 14 years.

How many times have I been to McDonald's in the last 14 years?

It's gotta be over 100 times. Surely more than 200. 1000? Have I been there 1000 times? That would be an average of 71.5 times a year...roughly once every 5 days. Well, I mean once every 5 days sounds like it could be accurate. There have been weeks when I've gone every day. There have been spells where I haven't gone for a month. I'd say it could be reasonable that it would balance out to once every five days.

This leads me to my next question...how much money have I spent on McDonalds in my life?

Some visits (breakfast, mainly) cost me only about $3.00. Others get up to about $7.50 A good ratio of breakfast to non-breakfast visits would be about 75 percent non-breakfast to 25% breakfast (this is 750 lunches and dinners, and 250 breakfasts for those keeping score at home)

Lets see....that's 750 x 7.50 - $5,625

PLUS

250 x 3.00 - $750

EQUALS

$6,375

Six thousand, three hundred seventy-five dollars I have spent on McDonalds.

I could have that Gibson Thunderbird bass I want, along with the Ampeg stack, with plenty of money left over.

I could have invested that money and it could be growing as we speak.

As my boss said, "You could have a hooker for a week"

But you know...I really like McDonalds.

One way, or another...I'm gonna find ya...I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha

2009-10-15T08:32:00.003-04:00

Back in April, we had a huge septic tank problem that left us with standing water (among other "stuff") in our basement.

Not long after that, my car window motor broke, leaving my window down in my door, forcing me to tape my window shut to avoid standing water in my car.

Then in August what I thought was a leaky water heater* turned out to be a piece of paper blocking a drainage tube in our AC unit....leaving standing water in our basement.

Now, we have a pipe between the basement and the main floor of our house with a leak. The leak is coming through the ceiling in the basement. As a result, we have stan....well, you know.

CAN WE NOT HAVE FIVE F'ING MINUTES GO BY WITHOUT SOMETHING GOING WRONG WITH OUR HOUSE?

In addition to the leak, we also have a yard that has so many high and low spots that it looks like a dirt bike track (this is due to the aforementioned septic problem), a section of our driveway that has been raised a good three to four inches higher than the rest (this is due likely to a big root growing under that section), and about a hundred small repairs that need to be done throughout the house.

They say that location, location, location is the key to a good house, but I disagree. I love the location of our house. It's just all the other crap that's ruining this for me.

*I used the phrase "Water Heater", rather then "Hot Water Heater" because there is no such thing as a hot water heater. It would be stupid to heat water that's already hot.

I'm no linguist...

2009-10-04T12:25:00.002-04:00

There is something I have wondered about for a few years...I could probably look it up somewhere, but then I wouldn't have this sweet blog post.

I'm not sure where all of the months got their names, nor is it something that I'm really all that interested in, to be honest with you. What bugs me, however, are names of the last four months of the year (September, October, Novemer, and December, for those of you who don't have the months down yet).

The prefixes of the aforementioned months are generally associated with numbers...Sept meaning seven, Oct meaning eight, Nov meaning nine, and Dec meaning ten. I would imagine that this is derived from Latin, but if you read the title of this entry, you'll note that I am, in fact, no linguist. We all know, however, that September through December are months nine through twelve. This would lead me to believe that at one point, those months were the seventh through tenth months.

Is this true? At some point were two months added to complete the calender we all know and love today? If so, then what were two months that were added? If that is not the case, then why to those four months have misleading names?

Just wondering.

I've got a bone to pick with Brian McKnight

2009-09-17T16:30:00.004-04:00

This has bugged me for years. How many years? Ten. 1999 was when the song about which this entry is written was released. The song I am referring to is McKnight's hit "Back At One". I'm sure you've heard this song before. It was quite popular in the "R&B/Easy Listening" circuits for some time, and it still maintains somewhat regular radio play.

Just to refresh your memory (and to help along my blog post), I will use my fingers to type the lyrics of the chorus of this song. And I quote:

One - You're like a dream come true.
Two - Just want to be with you.
Three - 'Cause it's plain to see that you're the only one for me, and
Four - Repeat steps one through three
Five - Make you fall in love with me.
If ever I believe my work is done, then I start back at one.

Okay, here we go...

Alright. You're like a dream come true. Just want to be with you. Blah, blah, blah. It's all nice and sweet. Now we get to 4. Repeat steps 1-3? Those were steps? I thought steps were something to be done. Part of a process. This is no process. These are just mushy statements that were made about a member of the opposite sex. I'm sorry, but it is impossible for a person to perform these actions, (example: Hey, after you leave work, could you "'Cause it's plain to see that you're the only one for me", on the way home for me?). It does not work.

Not that it's even possible, because the whole chorus is shot after my last point, but let's move on. Okay, we have performed steps 1-3. We are now at step 4 - Repeat steps 1-3. Okay, let's repeat 'em. Done and done. We are now at step 4 again. Oh...repeat steps 1-3. Well, we just repeated them, but we're back at 4, so let's repeat 'em again. It's a constant cycle that never, ever, makes it to step 5.

Well, logic hasn't stopped us yet. Let's keep this thing a-rollin', shall we?

Step five: Make you fall in love with me.
It seems to me that if you ignored steps 1-4 and just did step 5, then you'd probably be good, right? I mean, I would imagine that the whole objective in this "do-it-yourself" guide is to make the other person fall in love with you. But now that I think about it...steps 1-4 are things that should be done (or said, as 1-3 are impossible to "do") after the subject has fallen in love with the participant. So shouldn't step 5 be moved up to the top of the list? Then steps 1-4 will now become steps 2-5. At this point, when you get to step 5 (formerly step 4), you can now go back and repeat steps 2-4. Now we're getting somewhere! You already made her fall in love with you at step 1, so the rest of your life (or the life of your relationship) can be devoted to repeating steps 2-5...well, just steps 2-4, as step 5 is just the repetition of 2-4.

If my proposal is accepted, and step 5 is moved up, then that renders unnecessary the last line of the chorus: If ever I believe my work is done, then I start back at one. You know, if that ain't efficiency, then I don't know what is. Just by using a little logic, I have shaved the length of the chorus by roughly 16 percent. What was a six-line chorus is now a five line chorus.

Then again, the title of the song comes from that line.

These are the reasons why Brian McKnight is a source of seemingly endless frustration for me.

How two unrelated things are related

2009-09-10T14:19:00.003-04:00

Before I lose you with a somewhat political rant, I must let you know that I experienced one of the best feelings in my life last night. No, it wasn't that.

I was sitting on the couch, and Cohen (9 months old as I type this) was on the floor. Kimberly and I were playing the "Where's Mommy?", "Where's Daddy?", "Where's C.C.?" game, which is kind of pointless now, as he has pretty much mastered it. Then, out of nowhere, he crawled up to the couch. He then pulled himself up, reached out, patted my leg, and said "Dada".

It was adorable. Nothing could have wiped the smile off my face. Of course, I thought it was a fluke, since he has lots of syllables he uses on what seems like an almost random basis (da da ma ma na na tha tha, etc.). He then got back down, crawled around for a minute, came back and did the exact same thing. After doing it a third and fourth time, I was convinced. The kid officially knows that I am dada now.

Now on to less important issues.

Barack "Foreign-Born-America-Hating-Muslim" Obama (please note the sarscam) gave his address to Congress last night. I'll tell you one thing...that guy can give one hell of a speech. In my opinion, if I believed that the words out of his mouth were true...if I believed that his plan would pan out in the fashion that he said it would, then I wouldn't even be concerned enough to write here. Truth is, I'm not really concerned anyway.

Here's the thing. I have my beliefs. You have yours. My dad and uncles have theirs (I know this because of the numerous emails they forward me...all of which I read...honest).

Congress is gonna do what they're gonna do. Will it change my life? Yeah, probably. Will it affect the way I lead my life? Probably not.

The correlation?

The correlation is this: How in the world am I going to allow myself to get all wrapped up and pissed off on a political level, when my kid knows that I'm "Dada"? It sounds silly, but indirectly, it's true. I have a kid who I love dearly. I have a niece and nephew. I will soon have more. If my kid is happy, if he's growing up and learning new things, if he turns into a decent adult one day who is self-sufficient, if I have the love of my family and friends, then why should I care about a room full of know-nothing yahoos in Washington who show their immaturity by whether or not they give a standing ovation or a hearty "harrumph" every third word of a speech?

Changes will be made in government. Some of them I will agree with. Others I will not agree with. The long and the short of it all, though is that I have more important things in my life to care about than politics in general. The government has been screwing people out of their money before I came into this world, and they'll be screwing people out of their money after I leave. As long as my wife and I can still bring home enough to give our family a comfortable life, I don't care anymore.

I'm sure that my taxes one day will jump to 30% of my total income (they probably already have). I'm sure one day it'll reach 40%. One day, it may be 50%, who knows? Point is, I am pretty much powerless to do anything about it, and there's no use stressing about something I cannot change. All of my immediate elected representatives already agree with me.

So that's that. I may still follow what goes on in our federal government. It's nice to be in the know, you know? I will still need to make informed decisions when I vote. I will not, however, get bent out of shape over anything. Call me apathetic if you want...I just have better things to do.

All we hear is radio ga-ga

2009-08-18T16:41:00.002-04:00

We have had the radio on Star 94 today at work (if you're not familiar, it's the pop "hit music" station here in Atlanta). As I type this, it is 4:43 pm. This is a real tally of songs I can remember hearing since 12:30.

Use Somebody - Kings of Leon - 4 times
Wanted - Jessie James - 4 times
I Gotta Feeling - Black Eyed Peas - 3 times
Second Chance - Shinedown 4 times
The Climb - Miley Cyrus - 3 times
Poker Face - Lady Gaga (no relation to the title of this entry) - 2 times

I've looked up run times on these songs, and at the quantities mentioned, they all add up to seventy-six minutes and fifty-seven seconds. That's almost an hour and seventeen minutes of the same six songs over a four hour and fifteen minute time span. They just pepper in a few of last month's hits along the way, so as to not make the listeners go completely insane.

Ridiculous.

Is this just Atlanta radio? Is it the same no matter where you go? I know this is just one radio station, but it doesn't matter what station you stop on. Go over to the rock station, and it's the same six rock songs over and over. Go to the hip hop station, and it's the same six hip hop songs over and over. Same with classic rock, country, and just about every genre that has a station devoted to it.

Are program directors not aware that albums actually have anywhere from ten to fifteen songs on them? I know that's not how radio works. I'm just saying it'd be nice if it was.

By the way, since I started typing, I've heard Second Chance by Shinedown and I Gotta Feeling by Black Eyed Peas again.

Giant Ego Diminishes Braves Chance For Win (aka Hohn's a bum!)

2009-07-30T08:57:00.003-04:00

No, the ego I'm referring to is not the ego of any Braves player. Last night in the 8th inning of the Braves-Marlins game in Miami, the Braves were down 6-3. Chipper Jones was standing on first (having been walked on 4 pitches), and Brian McCann was batting. This was a golden opportunity for the Braves to come within a run of the "Fightin' Fish". The first pitch to McCann was a ball. That's five straight balls pitched in a row. The second pitch was a foot outside...and called a strike. A strike? Brian obviously wasn't pleased with the call and muttered something to himself...never once looking back and addressing Bill Hohn, the home plate umpire. Hohn didn't like what he was hearing and removed his mask and stared McCann down for a few seconds. When it was obvious McCann wasn't going to take the bait, Hohn put his mask back on and settled back in behind the catcher.
The next pitch was even farther outside, and thankfully, it was called a ball. We are now at a 2-1 count. Finally, with that 2-1 count, the pitcher threw a bona fide strike. McCann then grounded into a 4-6-3 double-play.

You may think to yourself, "Well, that negates the bad strike call". To that, I would say you are mistaken. If the second pitch would have been called a ball (as it was), then McCann would have had a 3-0 count, and he would not have been swinging at the pitch that ultimately yielded the double-play.

McCann walked back into to the dugout and exclaimed to Bobby Cox, "It was this far outside!", holding his hands about a foot apart. Hohn apparently heard it...and didn't like it.

Rather than ignore the conversation that he wasn't a part of, Hohn took it upon himself to call time out, approach the dugout and lure someone out for a fight.

Bobby Cox, being the player-protector that he is, came out on behalf of McCann. He didn't yell. He didn't get in the face of the umpire. He simply told the umpire to "Just go call the game" (among other things that I couldn't decipher). In my opinion, Hohn had decided before he walked to the dugout that he was going to eject somebody. There were a few more things said, but again, nothing was yelled.

As Cox retreated back to the dugout, Hohn pulled his line-up cards out of his shirt pocket. This is an odd move. There was no reason to pull the line-up cards out. Referring to the cards is only necessary for substitutions and ejections. No one had been substituted, though. And at this point, no one had been ejected. Bobby Cox questioned the move, pointed at the cards, and immediately, Hohn ejected Cox. (This is Cox's world record 147th ejection).

End of story, right? Oh no.

As the Braves took the field before the bottom half of the inning, McCann was warming up behind the plate, as Hohn walked by. McCann asked Hohn "Can you at least admit you missed the call?".

This was apparently a bad move, as McCann was immediately ejected. Again, McCann wasn't beligerent. He wasn't yelling in the umpire's face. He technically wasn't really even arguing. He was just looking for some vindication...some closure...some satisfaction in knowing that the umpire can at least admit a mistake. No such luck, as McCann joined Cox in the bowels of LandShark stadium.

End of story, right? Oh no.

The 6-3 score held through the bottom of the 8th and the top of the 9th, thus solidifying the Marlins victory. The third out in the 9th inning was a Nate McLouth strike out. As McLouth tipped the ball into the catchers mitt for the third strike, the Marlins catcher then turned around and offered a little fist bump to Bill Hohn. Hohn returned the fist bump.

Completely unprofessional.

Hohn's a bum.

Lost In Translation

2009-07-28T12:47:00.006-04:00

"I am doing an experiment with this entry. I will take this paragraph and translate it through a number if different languages. I will then translate it back to English. I am curious to see if it will even be recognized as saying remotely the same thing that the original paragraph stated."

That paragraph was translated through the following languages:
Spanish (Mexican)
French
Chinese
Japanese
Italian
Greek.

This is the resulting paragraph:

"Slaughter of this I reflection [respect] from the first experience. This will be translated will postpone, sends this point of/to be packagings and to the group and to the language. And I am translated in support of englishes and to this. I have said that this is the paragraph of that case [one thing] on the principle that the curiosity that understandable is always it is not clear with a strong case because I. It is confirmed."

Well, I got the gist of it.

Hey You Guys!

2009-06-30T08:17:00.004-04:00

Dear Five Guys,
You are not good for me. You are also expensive. I think we should break up. I tried to tell you that yesterday. Actually, I was just going to drive by and not say anything, hoping you'd take the hint, but as I approached you, I remembered that you have tasty peanuts inside that I can eat while I wait for my order. Just when I think I'm strong enough to quit you, it's the peanuts that draw me back. Damn you, Five Guys.
Since I couldn't muster the courage to tell you in person yesterday that I'm leaving you, I'll take the coward's way out and tell you in a blog post. I'd love to say we can still be friends, but you and I both know that's not going to happen. I'll see you, and I'll lose my self control, and the next thing I know I'll wake up, not knowing what happened, with a ridiculous abundance of french fries and aluminum foil scattered around me. That's not the life I want for us, Five Guys.
Maybe I'll see you down the line one day, and it may be nice. For my sake, though, I hope it's not soon. I'm going to need some time to fully get over you and gain some closure. Until then, I wish you the best. I hope you don't harbor any hard feeling for me. I sure don't toward you. It just isn't working out between us.

Double Standard!

2009-06-20T22:16:00.002-04:00

You know those Papa John's commercials where "Papa John" himself delivers pizza? He'll show up at the customer's house, bring in the pizza, hang out for a little while. There's even one commercial where he throws a football out in the street with some guys.

If a real Papa John's delivery guy did that crap, he'd be fired.

"They found me...I don't know how, but they found me" - Dr. Emmett Brown

2009-06-19T16:51:00.003-04:00

My bosses have been on vacation for the past two weeks. Included in my "make-sure-the-shop-doesn't-burn-down" responsibilities is the task of checking and keeping up with their emails. For some reason, Diane always receives a TON of those "I'm a nigerian prince, and I need to move $20,000,000 into the US, and if you help me, you get $19,000,000 of it" emails. In addition, she receives a number of "You've won $80,000" emails...so much so that if she actually received all the money she was promised, she'd be a multi-billionaire. As I was sifting through her inbox today deleting all of these emails, I ran across the following email. Usually, I just open them for a second to see what amount of money she has been promised this time before I delete it. Boy was I surprised at this one:

-----Original Message-----
From: MR. ALI ALI [mailto:aliman2100@yahoo.co.jp]
Sent: Friday, June 19, 2009 8:52 AM
To: undisclosed-recipients:
Subject: IT'S URGENT
ATTN.
LISTEN VERY CAREFUL, THIS IS THE ONLY WAY I CAN CONTACT YOU, MY TEAM HAS BEEN PAID TO ASSASINATE YOU, I HAVE EVERY REASON TO CARRY OUT THE CONTRACT, BUT I DECIDED TO GIVE YOU A CHANCE AND SAVE YOUR FAMILY THIS
PAIN, THIS YOUR ALTERNATIVE,I WISH TO HELP YOU UNLESS YOU DONT WANT TO HELP YOUR SELF, I WILL SEND YOU ENOUGH EVIDENCE YOU NEED ON A VIDEO TAPE RECORD TO NAIL MY EMPLOYER DOWN WITH THE LAW.

BEFORE THAT YOU'RE REQUIRED TO MAKE AVAILABLE THE SUM OF $70,000. USD, AFTER WHICH I WILL DIRECT YOU ON WHAT TO DO NEXT TO SAVE YOUR SELF AND YOUR FAMILY FROM THIS PAIN THAT WOULD HAVE BEFALLED YOU FROM MY EMPLOYER,THE MONEY WILL BE USED TO SETTLE THE TEAM MEN INVOLVED TO GO BACK TO THERE DESTINATIONS AND YOU BETTER KEEP THIS INFORMATION TO YOUR SELF BECAUSE YOU DONT KNOW WHO IS WHO WHERE YOU ARE NOW,IF HE FINDS OUT I HAVE BETRAYED HIM TRYING TO HELP YOU,YOU WILL HAVE YOUR SELF TO BLAME, I HAVE ORDERED MY MEN TO SATY AWAY FROM YOU.

DO WE HAVE A DEAL OR NOT?

NOTE: YOU HAVE TWO OPTIONS HERE, (1) YOU HAVE TO GET HIM ARRESTED WITH THE INFORMATION I WILL GIVE YOU AFTER THE PAYMENT OR (2) YOU HAVE HIM KILLED TO SAVE YOUR SELF.

I WILL VISIT YOUR HOUSE AGAIN BUT NOT NOW, MY BOYS EYES ARE ON YOU SO
GET BACK TO ME AS SOON AS POSSIBLE

First of all, maybe the reason the guy is a professional assassin is because he couldn't get a decent legitimate job because of his horrible grammar. Geez, man, use a period!

Next, if the guy's team has already been paid to kill my boss, then why will the $70,000 be used to get them back to their destinations? Also, I don't think you can actually go "back" to a destination, as destination really applies to the future. I mean, technically, if it's somewhere you've already been, and you're going there again, I suppose you'd be going back to your destination, but then...well, you know what I mean. Just a poor choice of words from our assassin.

Two options? Really? Just two? The options listed in the email are have the guy arrested or have the guy killed. How about a disguise? A moustache could go a long way. How about disappearing? If I have $70,000 to give a would-be killer, then it's likely that I have enough money to run off to remote location where I couldn't be found.

I tell you what...I have the craziest work place. From the homeless ladies sleeping behind the dumpster to the snakes that visit us on a regular basis to the billions of dollars we've won through email to the assassination plots. I can't say that I have a boring job.

So long, Tommy.

2009-06-04T07:41:00.003-04:00

So...

The Braves released Tom Glavine yesterday. Didn't trade him...just flat released him. The 43-year-old has been playing for Atlanta since 1987 (with the exception of a 5 year stint with the Bravos most hated rival, but I digress). Obviously, everyone who is/was close to Glavine within the organization and throughout baseball is saying they're shocked, bewildered, and saddened. The fan reaction, however, has been a little more spread out through the emotional spectrum.

Some fans are sad to see him go. Some fans are willing to accept it, because this is a new Braves team, and we're looking toward the future with new pitchers Kris Medlen and Tommy Hanson. Still, some fans are still really mad about Glavine's spokesmanship for the Players' Union in the 1994 strike, his leaving for New York in 2003, and his holding out for a bigger contract before the 2009 season, and they think this is what he deserves.

I, like my tagline states at the top of this blog, am somewhere in the middle.

FROM A BASEBALL STANDPOINT

I'm somewhat of a baseball traditionalist, so I'm always sad to see an era end. I will be realistic about all this, however. Eras begin and they end. If Glavine stays, we don't have the opportunity to bring up Tommy Hanson. This is the first time in a while that the Braves have had a surplus of good starting pitching. Sorry, there just isn't enough room for everybody. Our current starters are Lowe, Jurrjens, Kawakami, Vasquez, Medlen, Reyes, Hanson, and Glavine (not to mention Tim Hudson, who's due back from injury any month now). That's eight (or nine) pitchers. A big-league starting rotation is 5 pitchers. It's just a simple matter of space.

You've got to stay with your best five, which in my opinion are: Lowe, Jurrjens, Kawakami, Vasquez, and Hanson (moving Medlen to the bullpen). Jo-Jo Reyes and Tom Glavine just don't make the cut. Yeah, it's sad, but hey, we want to win.

FROM A PERSONAL STANDPOINT

Since he left in 2003, I haven't really been what you'd call a Tom Glavine fan. His leaving was a bummer, but...
1. He went to the Braves' biggest rival (even though he never did that well against the Braves)
2. I have since learned (from "Built To Win", by John Schuerholz) that it was after an hours-long, bitter shouting match of a meeting that he decided to go.

When he came back for the 2008 season, a lot of people were thrilled, but I wasn't really sold. He was getting old, and I didn't really know if he had anything left. Sure enough, when he got injured, he was a mere 2-4 in thirteen starts.

There's the loyalty thing, I guess, but he's already shown that he's not really loyal to Braves fans, so why should we be loyal back?

To sum up, I'm not really happy to see him go, but at the same time, I'm not sad to see him go, either. I am shocked, though, that the Braves dropped him, just like that. I guess it shows that management is willing to make the tough calls in order to trim the fat and put a winning product out on the field. They also traded yesterday for an outfielder from Pittsburgh who is supposed to help us out offensively.

I'm not worried about Glavine...he supposedly still wants to pitch, and I'm sure he will. There are teams out there that are hurting for starting pitching. He'll get another shot.

The whole situation is surprising to say the least, but I really think it's a breath of fresh air. These are some of the changes necessary for the Braves to have a chance at the post-season this year.

Correction

2009-06-02T12:57:00.002-04:00

Last week, I posted a blog about The Learning Channel's "Jon and Kate Plus 8". I'd like to make two corrections to that entry:

1. Their last name is Gosselin, not Goselyn.

2. What I meant to say was "Psh! I don't watch that lame show!"

My apologies.

Highlight of my day...

2009-05-28T15:45:00.003-04:00

So my sign-buddy Nate was taking the trash out at work. He stuck his head in the door and said, "Hey, there's a big rat snake out by your car if you want to see it...

Psh, YEAH I wanna see it...

This thing was 5 feet long, easy. It was on the move until I came up to it, then it stopped for a photo-op. It was at this point that I realized that not only am I not afraid of snakes, I actually love them. It took all of my self control not to try and catch it. What I would have done once I caught it...I have no clue.

Who would have thought that my longest blog to date would be about Jon and Kate?

2009-05-26T08:29:00.004-04:00

I'm pissed. I'm actually genuinely furious. About Jon and Kate Plus Eight.

Long story short, for those of you who happen to have been living under a rock, or *gasp* without cable for the past 3-4 years: Jon and Kate Goselyn have a set of twins and a set of sextuplets, totalling 8 kids (hence the name...get it?). They have had a show following the day-to-day schemanskies and goings-on of the crazy life they live. Everything has been all fine and dandy in Jon and Kate World for the past few years, and all of the sudden, their popularity has just about reached supersaturation, and nothing good can come out of this.

*What follows is partly true, partly my opinion...take it as you want, but it's not necessarily the gospel truth.

According to last night's episode (and all the tabloids), Jon is tired of doing the show. Kate has written a book and travels constantly promoting it. Jon apparently got stressed out with everything, went out and flirted with one or more young ladies. He claims that while he did not cheat on Kate, he absolutely used some poor judgment. She is putting this all on his shoulders. They both admit that they have no idea what the current status of their relationship is, and at least Kate (if not both of them) are considering that there could actually possible be a divorce involved.

Like I said...I'm pissed...and I'll break it down for you right here:

KATE
Kate needs to get over herself. She has eight children. Eight. What do you do when you have eight children who are all under the age of 10? YOU MAKE THEM YOUR PRIORITY. Sorry...you don't get to tour the country unless you're bringing the entire family along, and Lord knows they have the money to do that. She claims that she is away because of "obligations" to do this book tour. Nope, I'm not buying it. Your obligation is to your family. If your book-store-hopping is hindering your family. The tour should stop.

JON
Don't think that I'm taking his side because of how I feel about Kate. Jon, you're an idiot. You know good and damn well you have papparazzi following you everywhere you go. It makes no difference if you cheated, didn't cheat, or were going out to preach the gospel to these poor, lost, co-eds. Use your head. YOU HAVE AN OBLIGATION TO YOUR FAMILY, AS WELL. Did you think that being photographed in public with one or more members of the opposite sex would be good for the home life?

PAPPARAZZI
Screw those guys.

THE LEARNING CHANNEL
They're eating this crap up. They love every minute of showing this family - a family that much of America has come to know and love - fall apart at the seams. As far as these TV executive types are concerned, this is RATINGS, RATINGS, RATINGS! It makes me sick. A responsible programming director (or whatever those people are called) would see that this is getting out of hand. They would make the decision to stop the cameras...if nothing else, just for a year or so...to let things air out. Let the family get back on their feet. But NOOOOO! We need to show this! America wants to see this family go through these struggles...which brings me to my next point...the big one:

SOCIETY IN GENERAL
When did we get to this point? When did watching a once loving family that is now crumbling apart become quality programming? What have we turned into?

I normally hate almost any kind of reality tv. I never really liked this show in particular. They are just a family, who happens to have a ton of kids. I never saw what the big deal was. What has impacted me so much recently, though, is the fact that this is not a sitcom. The writers can not make sure that despite the trials that this family trudges through, all will be well in the end. This is a real family. These are real children.

Here's what it all boils down to. When I was 16, my parents almost got divorced. They ended up deciding that they could, and would, work together to avoid that. I'm really glad they did, but I still find myself asking today - 13 years later - "Did they just do that for me, my brother, and my sister?" "Do they actually hate each other now, but are just tolerating each other just to make it convenient for everyone else?" I really think the answer to both of those questions is no, but the thought will always be in the back of my mind. If they had worked this out in private; if they had never brought it to our attention, then we'd never even know about it today, and these doubts wouldn't exist.
That's what bugs me about Jon and Kate. Given all the bad choices that were made, if they found a way to make it work; if they worked through their problems in private without airing them out for the entire world to see, things could potentially be better. Their kids may never have to know that this conflict ever happened. They wouldn't have to grow up with the same doubt that haunts me from time to time. Jon said it best in last night's episode "One day my kids are going to Google me".

All of this could have been avoided if:
1. Kate didn't put this pressure on Jon and her family
2. Jon didn't cave under said pressure and go out and make bad choices
3. The network had a soul
4. The American public didn't stick its nose into the lives of normal families via Reality TV and Papparazzi.

I'm pissed.

2009-05-13T08:26:00.002-04:00

There's a commercial out now for Liquid-Plumr "Foaming Pipe Snake" that says, "What do you get when you mix the power of Liquid-Plumr with the technology of the future?". It is my contention that once we have the technology...it is no longer the technology of the future.

You know the Ocean Spray commercials with the two guys standing in a bog where evidently millions of cranberries are growing. That looks fun as crap. I'd love to jump in, swim, and play in something like that. It looks like a giant ball pit...that you can eat.

For some reason, my skin crawls every time I see a girl refer to another girl as "girl". For example: "Girl, you look good for just having had a baby!", or "Girl, you know Jon's just staying with Kate for the money". Any time I see a comment that starts with the word "girl" followed by a comma, it makes me want to slap someone's sister. Not my sister, though.

When I was going to sleep last night, in my halfway-between-awake-and-asleep phase, it was like my brain was scrolling through thoughts and statements trying to find a jumping-off point for a dream, and the following three questions floated through my mind in this order: "Are you kidding me?", "Will you answer the phone?", "Do you have hair in your mouth?". I heard them in female voices...almost like two females were talking to each other. It jolted me out of my snooze and I had to start over in the going to sleep process.

It just occurred to me that I have no idea how my sister would react if I slapped her.

They paved paradise and put up a test of social common courtesy

2009-05-07T12:42:00.003-04:00

Occasionally, I don't feel like making the 10 minute drive home from work to have lunch, and I treat myself to drive-thru, sit in a parking lot, and listen to sports talk radio. I'm sure lots of you do the same (without all the sports). Anyway, as I sat in the parking lot today, I noticed a number of "parking lot fouls", and it really bugged me. Therfore, I will now post a list of p's and q's as far as I see it for proper parking lot behavior.

Danny Danger's Straight-Up Parking Lot Etiquette

1. If there are other spaces available, there's no need to sit and wait for a car to pull out of a closer parking space and take that one. I've seen it a million times. While some lady loads her baby, her toddler, and her shopping cart full of groceries into her minivan, someone else is sitting there in their car, blocking the lane, just to get the close space when said minivan leaves. When I see this, I go ahead and park a little farther back. I'm usually in the store before the waiting driver has even occupied his/her prime spot. I'm a pretty big guy who doesn't really like to excercise all that much, but even I can handle walking an extra 20-30 feet.

2. If you're walking across a parking lot lane, and someone in a car is waiting for you to cross, do it quickly. Come on. If a driver is nice enough to let you cross in front of them, don't waste their time by walking slowly. When I'm crossing in front of a car - even in a pedestrian crosswalk, where I have the right of way - I do it with a quickness. Heck, I even give the token "thank-you" wave. It's called being nice. I recommend it.

3. When walking to/from the store from/to your car, walk on the side of the lane, not in the middle of it. Really? You're walking through a parking lot, and you're going to stroll right down the middle of the lane? The drivers you're holding up really appreciate that.

4. You drive one car. Park in one space. The parking lot where I work is almost always empty. The lot has room for 64 cars, but there are never more than 5 or 6 in the lot at a time. About a week ago, some yahoo parked across three spaces. Sure he had the freedom to do so...he wasn't preventing someone else from having space to park. Still it didn't change the fact that it made him look like a total jerk. Had he just taken one of the three spaces, I wouldn't hate his guts today.

5. PUT YOUR SHOPPING CARTS WHERE THEY BELONG! This is a big one...probably the biggest one in my book. You know that guy that has to come out and collect all the carts? He doesn't get paid very much. Why are you going to make his job even more miserable by forcing him to trek all over creation to get the cart that you were too lazy to put in the corral? This holds true especially for this time of year. Summer's coming. It will be getting really hot outside soon. In addition, carts that are left in the parking lot usually end up rolling into open spaces, rendering them unusable, or worse, they roll into other cars. How many dings do you have in the side of your car from people not putting their carts away? Personally, I feel a sense of satisfaction when I put the cart in the corral where it belongs. You know what feels even better? Taking it all the way back into the store. That's courtesy, homes.

Basically, it all boils down to one general tenet. Don't be an a-hole. The nicer you are, the better you will feel. The better you feel, the better your life is. It's all about the golden rule.

SPECIAL ADDED BONUS MATERIAL

Nate, my sign-buddy, added another rule that I previously hadn't thought of. It's a good rule, though, so it needs to be said.

6. Unless it's water, don't empty your cup by your car door. Nobody needs to step in your sticky cola residue. The same applies with gum, candy, or really any trash in general. If you look around, I'm SURE you're going to find a trash can somewhere. If you REALLY need to get that drink out of your cup...like RIGHT NOW, there is likely an island with some nice grass or pine straw closeby. Otherwise...just wait till you get home. Pour it out in the sink.
Plus, it attracts ants. You know how I feel about ants.

This is the kind of stuff I think about on my free time.

2009-04-23T13:21:00.003-04:00

There is a self-promoting commercial or SportSouth, Fox SportsNet, Fox SportSouth, or whatever the station is that carries a number of Braves games. It features some country band singing a song about the Braves, whist showing highlights of the team in action. The lyrics are as follows:

Load up the bases
Fire up the crowd
Here come the Braves
We're gonna get real loud

Throw me a fastball
Smoltz on the mound
I'm gonna end this thing in just one swing
I'm gonna knock one out

Now, the first verse is a little cheesy, but at least it makes sense. It implies that the Braves are batting with the bases loaded. Great. It's the second verse that I take issue with. Note that this song was written over a year ago, when John Smoltz was still a member of the Atlanta Braves. If this was the case, then why would you want to hit a game-ending home run off of John Smoltz? He's on your team! It could be easily fixed by saying "throw him a fastball...Smoltz on the mound...gonna end this thing in just three swings...we're gonna strike him out", or something like that. By the way...there's a reason I don't write songs. And that was it.

The thing is this, though. Even if you wanted to keep lyrics that are inaccurate to the situation, but still sound catchy (which is a matter of opinion, by the way...I don't really think it's catchy, but apparently some marketing people or focus groups or somebody seems to think it is), then at least spend the money to dub in the name of a player who is actually still on the team. Lowe's on the mound. Jair's on the mound. Kenshin Kawakami's on the mound. It's really embarassing as a Braves fan to have an outdated marketing song that uses the name of a player who isn't even on the squad anymore.

But maybe they wanted to keep it that way. Maybe they said "Now that John Smoltz is gone, we can use this song, and the lyrics will actually make sense now that he plays for the Red Sox". Well, that's all fine and good, but now the problem is that the song is specifically aimed at one opponent...the Red Sox. In 2009, it makes sense to want to hit a walk-off home run off John Smoltz. Why then would they play the song, say, last night? The Braves played the Nationals last night. More specifically, they faced Nationals starting pitcher John Lannan. I'm sorry, but John Smoltz playing for the Red Sox has nothing to do with John Lannan facing the Braves.

What I'm really saying here is that the Braves should hire me. To do anything. Seriously. Anything at all.

Dang.

2009-04-15T17:43:00.003-04:00

I've been to 5 Guys Burgers & Fries before. Their burgers (although they're too big - even for me) are seriously amazing. The fries (although they give you ENTIRELY too many) are really good, too. What I had no idea about, though was that they also have hot dogs. I tried one. It was so good that words will not explain the euphoria I felt as I ate it.

But that won't stop me from trying.

Man, this was an amazing hot dog. It was not just the best hot dog I've ever had. It was not only probably the best meat-and-bread combination I've ever had. It was quite possibly the best thing I've ever eaten in my entire life. My particular hot dog was garnished with bacon and cheese (What makes meat better? More meat and some cheese.) split in two, and grilled.

I had my first one on Monday. Since I couldn't make it home for lunch today, I decided to treat myself again. As I bit into this hot dog, my first words were "This is so good, I wanna blog about it".

The Five Guys Bacon Cheese Hot Dog is a precious gift from God.

It was like my mouth did something really good - I mean something really, really good, like saving a baby from a burning building - and this was the reward.

It was so good that I wanted to puke it out so I could eat it agian.

All of the previous words almost described the soul-satisfying experience of eating a Five Guys dog.

2009-04-11T23:20:00.002-04:00

A friend of mine (that I made just a week ago) asked me tonight if having a baby changes everything. Immediately, my answer was a resounding YES. Because of other conversations in the vicinity, though, I didn't really have a chance to elaborate, and I've been thinking about it ever since. What I've come up with though, is that while there are definitely a lot of changes, not necessarily everything has changed. That having been said, I've decided to compile a list of "Changes and Not-Changes" that I've found about having a kid.

CHANGES

I now go to bed at the same time as Kimberly and Cohen every night. This is usually at 10:00. It's not really something that I'm made to do...it's just more convenient. There are a few exceptions here and there (for instance, tonight), but for the most part, I'm ready for bed by then anyway.

My 10 minute morning commute is now an hour and a half commute. This, of course, is because I now take the kid to my parents' house every day, since Kimberly and I still both work full-time.

We don't go out as much as we used to. Naturally. Not that we went out a lot before...it's just less now that it was even then.

We utilize the DVR way more than we used to. Making it through a full thirty-minute show isn't nearly as easy as it once was. Thank goodness we can now pause (around 8:00 every night for bath time), rewind (to go back over what we missed when he was fussy), and record those shows that come on at ten, after we've gone to bed.

At this point, I must note that not all the changes are bad. There are positive changes, too.
For example:

I don't have the same sensitive gag reflex I once had. It's still sensitive, but now I can handle a poopy diaper with ease. Long ago, before I had my own kid, I changed my nephew's wet diaper once. Wet...that's it...and I dry-heaved like a sonofagun. The smell of puke (yeah, baby puke still smells like regular puke) doesn't get me nearly as much as it once did, either.

No matter what happens, my mood can instantly be made better by seeing the kid smile. I never would have guessed that seeing one smile from a kid could do a one-eighty on my psycological well-being, but it's true.

Family Rap Dancin' time is great. Cohen has some pretty sweet moves. He had the "One-Legged-Shuffle", and he has now graduated to "walking it out".

NOT-CHANGES

I still listen to the same stuff in the car that I once did (Granted, this will probably change once he's old enough to understand the English language)

I still make it out to play hockey with the dudes every Saturday morning.

Honestly, I don't think my personality has changed all that much. Sure, I've thrown in some goo-goos and ga-gas for his entertainment's sake, but as far as I can tell, I can still carry on the same adult conversations as I once did. I talk about him a lot, but I don't think he dominates my daily dialog. I can still carry on conversations about life, work, the Braves, etc. Sometimes I catch myself talking about him too much, and when I do, I usually try and change the subject. I am aware that not everyone wants to hear about my kid all the time. If you should ever notice me not shutting up about my kid, please bear with me...before long, I'll notice and stop. Other than that, I really feel like the same dude.

So there you have it. If you would have asked me three months ago if having a baby is fun and cool, I would have said yes, but I would have been saying it through clinched teeth and a fake smile. Ask me again today, and I'll say yes again...but this time I'll really mean it.

Opening Night!

2009-04-05T22:33:00.002-04:00

Christmas Day is my favorite day of the year. My birthday probably comes in at a close second. Not too far behind that...Opening Day (or in this case, Opening Night).

My beloved Braves opened against division rivals and World Champions, the Philadelphia Phillies. I'll try not to bore you with too much baseball...I'll just give you the highlights.

First inning, Chipper singles, then McCann homers to give the Braves a 2-run lead.

Second inning, Francouer homers on the first pitch he sees. Rookie Jordan Schafer homers in his first at-bat of his major league career. It is now 4-0, Braves.

Things are looking really nice at this point.

Fast forward through six more innings of pitching gold by first year Brave Derek Lowe, and we hit the end of the eighth. I'm still hanging in there (albeit a little tired). Cohen, on the other hand, fell asleep around the 4th inning.

For the ninth inning, the Braves apparently decided that pitch-counts must be more important than the inspirational exhilaration of an Opening Night, complete game, 2-hit shutout. They pulled Lowe out, despite his dominating performance. Maybe they wanted to show the world that they have faith in their bullpen for 2009. Either way, it almost didn't work out for my guys. Mike Gonzalez sure made it interesting enough, giving up a run and four hits before finally striking out two in a row to win the game.

Overall, if tonight was any indication, then redemption is on the menu for the Braves this season. They looked like a team on a mission, and I think, all bias aside (well, mostly aside), the Braves have a viable chance of making it to the post-season for the first time since 2005.

Let's do it again tomorrow! And almost every day until October is over!

And, go Braves.

Things and Items

2009-04-02T17:59:00.004-04:00

You know those cleaners that claim to kill 99.9% of all bacteria? When I use those, I just use a little more than I should, so as to kill all the bacteria.

Isn't any time the time of your life?

Cohen farts all the time. What I don't understand though, is that the amount of air is less, and it's coming out of smaller intestines and through a smaller butthole - and it still makes the loud, deep sound that a full-sized, adult, grown-up fart makes.

He also recently learned how to roll over, which is pretty cool. He hates to be on his belly, though. He just rolls over, then starts crying because he's on his belly. Then, we put him back on his back. Then he rolls back over on his belly again and starts crying again. It's an endless cycle. I think if he would just learn to stand and walk, then all of this can be avoided.

I often look forward to going home from work, so I can go home and join in on "Family Kitchen Rap Dancin' Time". It's a pretty awesome (D&K)Dorris* family tradition that was started a few years ago and is only made more fun by the fact that there's now a baby to join in the fun.

Over the past year or two, I have developed a (what could be unhealthy) fascination/infatuation with Mos Def. Before I knew his music, I knew his acting (and his performances on "Russel Simmons' Def Poetry Jam, which I like, probably more than I should), but I had never heard his music. Over the last year, I've picked up a couple of his CD's, though, and I have to admit...they're pretty awesome, too. This week he guest-starred on House, and it made my night.

After I left my last post (on April 1st), I narrowly avoided what could have been two very serious car wrecks. I guess that's what I get.

* I had to specify that the tradition is a (D&K)Dorris family tradition because there are now multiple (insertinitialshere)Dorris' around, such as the (G&S)Dorris family and the (B&C)Dorris family. I fear that just saying "Dorris family tradition" will be misleading or confusing in the future, and it troubles me.

Right-Round, Baby, Right-Round

2009-04-01T17:31:00.005-04:00

Today started off like any other day. I got up this morning and took Cohen to my parents' house. Before I left their house to go to work, my dad and I noticed that my tires are in TERRIBLE shape. I knew they were bad, but I had no idea that the metal weave part of the inside was exposed (I'm sure that stuff has a name, but I don't know what it is).
Anyway, I knew it was time to get new tires, and my plan was to do it at lunch.

Well, that was the plan.

Some of you may know the access road one can take from the Pleasant Hill exit, up 85 North. There are multiple opportunities to exit and get on to 85 (or "the 85", as some of my friends from California may call it), or if you want, you can just stay on the access road for a long time, skipping any potential traffic on the interstate (or "the freeway", as some of my friends form California may call it). That's what I do every morning. I just stay on that road until the last opportunity to get on the freeway 85. That decision very well may have saved my life this morning.

Somewhere between the Hwy 120 exit and the Sugarloaf exit is where it happened. Oh, I didn't mention...it was raining this morning. I hit the tiniest of puddles, and away I went. First, my car turned right. It was still moving straight, mind you, the car was just turned and oriented right. I eased off the gas, trying not to hit the brakes, and I cut my wheels left to try and correct it. Oh, i went left alright. This time, not only did the orientation of my car turn left, but my direction did, too. Right into the wall.

I was kind of at a diagonal to the wall when I hit it, but it the wall caught just the front of my right-front corner and put me into a spin. I don't know if it was 1 full spin or if it was 2. When I finally came to a stop after what seemed like 30 full seconds of spinning, I just sat there, bewildered, hands shaking too much to even fumble for my phone at first. Thankfully, I was on the uncrowded access road, and there weren't many other cars around. Had I been on 85, I would have definitely hit someone, should I have encountered a puddle like that, and the damage would have likely been bodily, rather than just automobile-um-ically.

Long and the short...I'm okay. My car is a different story, however. I filed a police report for insurance purposes, had the car towed, and my boss came and picked me up, and basically, this is where my story falls apart, because it isn't true, and I'm not that creative. Today is in fact the first day of the fourth month of the year, and I just thought I had to do something to honor it.

Resolution

2009-03-14T11:36:00.003-04:00

The pictures posted in my previous entry depicted what my front yard looked like Wednesday night (and Thursday morning as I left for work).

The plan of what was to follow:

THURSDAY

County Inspection at 9:00am
Plumbers fill the holes back in (planning on being done by noon)
I get off work and go to Home Depot to pick up grass seed, fertilizer, and straw to spread.
Meet plumber at 6:00 to give him my severed arm and leg as payment.

FRIDAY (or whenever forcasted rain finishes passing through)

Spread grass seed and fertilizer
Cover lawn with straw
Wait for grass to "like magic appear"
Be ultimately happy with things turned out, despite paying through the nose, because this is a permanent fix to some shoddy work done years ago.

What actually happened:

THURSDAY

Inspection goes just fine
10:45, I stop by to see the plumber leaving (with earth-moving equipment on trailer). I see that Kimberly's uncle Mark is using the family-owned Bobcat to smooth the dirt. When I stopped to talk to him he said "Yeah, I told that guy he didn't know what he was doing, and to get outta here." I was actually thankful for this, because I know that Mark is really good with the Bobcat, and he does, in fact, know what he's doing. As I'm talking to Mark about the future of my front yard, Kristopher (Kimberly's brother) pulled up in a pickup truck full of seed, fertilizer, and straw, thus preventing me from having to go after work and pick up the stuff myself.
5:35, I got home from work, and within minutes, the plumber showed up. I gave him said arm and leg.
6:00, I got started on the yard. Thankfully, Kimberly's dad was there to offer up advice on how to actually prepare the packed dirt, and Kimberly's mom helped me rake, spread seed and fertilizer, and lay the straw, which was made much easier because my dad let me borrow his seed-spreader (which may have a proper name, but I don't know what it may be). We finished just as the last little bit of daylight was fading just after 8:00. Despite not being able to move for the rest of the night and still being sore today (Saturday morning), it's done. It was finished before this rain came in, which, of course, is ideal.

The point of it all...well, several points, I suppose, are as follows:

It's all over. With the exception of waiting for the grass to come in, we are major-problem-free. Now, we're just left with all the minor problems that have always been there...but we can deal with those.
You may think from reading this that Kimberly's family seems intrusive and meddlesome. This is not the case. They were awesome through all this, and I'm very thankful. The yard would have never been ready to seed if Mark had not worked his magic on it. It also wouldn't have happened if Kimberly's dad hadn't sent Kristopher to pick up and deliver the seed, fertilizer, and straw early in the day, and there's ABSOLUTELY no way it would have been done so fast if Kimberly's mom hadn't helped me work in the yard. It's a huge family, but they really help each other out. Sometimes I forget that. Kimberly's dad also gave me lots of advice along the way (which was helpful, given that I've never dealt with this before), and he also went and talked to the plumber himself just to make sure I wasn't getting ripped off.
Despite having big, expensive problems, which are very trying on the nerves (not to mention the health of relationships), it's just good to know that the whole "for better or worse" thing actually holds true. Regardless of the fact that we were without running water for a lot of this time, Kimberly had to shower at her parents' house a few times, and it was just a general inconvenience on everybody...we could still find some sanity and some humor at some points of the night. We were at each other's throats a few times, but ultimately, we were fine, and we knew it. Cohen would smile at us, and that is something that will make every one of your worries seem do disappear, even if just for a moment.

Now, maybe I can put up a blog that has nothing to do with what happens to my poop after it leaves my body.

How's your yard looking?

2009-03-11T22:34:00.001-04:00

'Cause this is how mine is...

Every bit of grass in our "front yard" (excluding the part way down by the street) is gone. Our dogwood tree is gone. There are tons of supposedly important bushes and flowers and trees planted by Kimberly's grandmother and uncles over the years that are gone.
It's like starting over on a brand new front yard. Which, actually isn't all that bad. I didn't like some of those plants, and now we'll be able to plant a tree with Cohen and it'll be "his" tree, which I think is pretty cool.

However, Kimberly and I could have bought a car with the money it took to finally fix our septic system. I guess that's the point of this, though...it's actually fixed now. All that's left is the county inspection tomorrow (Thursday) morning, and then they fill the holes back in, leaving us with a blank canvas of land. I guess all that's left to decide now is what to do with it? It's too small for a proper hockey rink. I have always wanted a miniature golf course in my yard. Hmm...

Seriously...

2009-03-05T17:40:00.000-05:00

I'm going to start boycotting Subway.

If I hear that "$5 Foot Long" jingle one more time, I think I may kill somebody in the head.

Until they stop with the most annoying jingle that has ever existed, no Subway for me.

2009-03-05T08:25:00.001-05:00

Last week, I started a post about my sister and how awesome she is. I got a couple of paragraphs in, but I just never got around to finishing it. This was before they moved in to the new house...before her plumbing nightmare...and definitely before her most recent blog post (at shaunnafaye.blogspot.com). Then, after reading said blog post this morning, I am all the more compelled to come back and finish saying what I started about how smart she is and how proud of her I am.

I am only three and a half years older than she is, so when we were kids, there wasn't much looking back, reflecting, and noticing her coming of age. However, when we were young adults...when she was 17-18, and I was 20-21, I was more in a position to actually observe the process of her growing up.

There was the period she referred to in her blog...where she dated a guy who was a manipulative a-hole. We all liked him at first, and it was actually Brent (and maybe myself) that pushed them toward each other. We realized soon enough, however, that this guy was no good. We talked to Shaunna and tried to convince her, but by that point it was almost too late. She didn't want to hear what we were saying, and he had her convinced that it was the two of them against the world. That situation was actually the inspiration of one of the cheesiest, but most heartfelt Anthem songs, April 7th. It was about "a girl", who on her 18th birthday ran off with her boyfriend, leaving her family behind.

The story has a happy ending, however. Since that period, she grew in leaps and bounds (again, this is from my observation standpoint). Not that I am, nor should I be, the end-all, be-all decider in all things Shaunna, but from a big-brother position, I have approved of every person she has dated since then. Each of those people have been a step along the way to where she is now. And where she is now...is a good place. She and her husband have found each other. They fell in love and got married. They bought a house. They are now living the dream. For better or for worse (and I'm pretty sure they've had a bunch of both), they stand by each other's side.

Last weekend, during the move, it seriously almost brought a tear to my eye knowing that this isn't just one of the Shaunna Dorris "twice-yearly" changes in residences. This one was big. It was more important. This was Shaunna Turner starting her first household. This was Chris and Shaunna Turner and their first home.

For this stuff, I am left with nothing but admiration and love for my sister (and by brother-in-law). They're doing it. They're grows up.

And between you and me...they're both cool as crap.

I'd like to issue a formal challenge...

2009-03-02T22:18:00.000-05:00

After some careful consideration, I'd like to issue a formal dispute to that age-old proverb..."Mo Money, Mo Problems". I think many people will agree with this.

If I had "mo money", I wouldn't have to put all of my weight (and that's a lot of weight) into opening my sliding-glass door every time I need to let the dog out.

If I had "mo money", we would have an oven that doesn't take over an hour to get halfway to the temperature we desire (not an exaggeration). We would also have a stovetop with four working burners, rather than the one and a half working burners we have now.

If I had "mo money", I wouldn't have to buy a new bottle of power steering fluid every three weeks for Kimberly's car...because I'd either have the leak fixed or we'd just buy a better car.

If I had "mo money", I wouldn't have a basement full of old, dog-pee-stained carpet.

And

If I had "mo money", I wouldn't have to walk next door to take a shower or go twosies, because I'd have a septic tank that wasn't busted.

Don't take this the wrong way...I am blessed beyond what I should be. I do have a house, a car, a job, a sweet baby, and a smokin' hot wife. I have a bed to sit on and a computer sitting in my lap on which I can bitch about such things. I don't now, nor have I in the past 5 years considered myself poor. We can pay all our bills, and we'll be able to pay for the septic tank repair, but we'll just have to put off those the prospect of fixing those problems that fall a little lower on the priorities list. I like takeout, and straining to open the door is good excercise. My life is faaaaar from miserable.

This may be selfish, or it may just be a simple observation about life, but it just seems that there isn't one point in which everything is fine. If it isn't one thing, it's another. I guess that's what makes life interesting, but honestly, it's much more fun when the thing that's going wrong is something like being busy at work, or not being able to decide what to have for dinner. It isn't so great when the thing going wrong is any one of problems among the laundry list of "things-that-cost-a-whole--lot-of-money".

So, at the next meeting on the Dorris Business Deck, I'll raise the issue and take a vote, officially calling Schymanski's on the notion of "Mo Money, Mo Problems".

Because if I had "mo money", I'd still have 99 problems, but poop coming up from the shower drain in the basement would not be one.

Ahh, the joys.

2009-03-02T08:01:00.000-05:00

Long, busy weekend.

Saturday, the usual suspects, minus dad (which really means Brent and I) helped Shaunna and Chris move. This is the, let's see...1, 2, 3....9th time she has moved in the past 7 years since she was 18. And this is the 8th time I was there for it. I would have been there for all nine, but one time was the day of Kimberly's Grandma's funeral.
Anyway, the actual moving part went pretty much without a hitch, with the exception of a very important part of their bed frame magically disappearing, making it impossible to put their bed together, forcing them to sleep in the guestroom for at least the first few nights of their new home. Other than that, the actual moving part was okay...we've done it so many times, we pretty much have it down to the science.
What did NOT go un-hitched, however was the plumbing problem that decided to smile upon Chris and Shaunna that day. Apparently, roots had grown into the sewage line, thus making flushing anything other than liquid impossible. Have no fear, though. It was a simple fix! All they had to do was have a plumber come to their house, dig a trench from the house to the street, notice that the water-in pipe is this polybutal material (that was made illegal about 20 years ago), AND the water-in pipe is sitting right on top of the sewage line (which is also apparently illegal), replace both lines and fill back in the trench, leaving the entire front yard look like a mud-pit! And all of this for only about $6.9 million! I felt really bad for Chris and Shaunna, having to pay a whole bunch of money to fix a plumbing problem. Then I remembered...I have a plumbing problem of my own.
When I got up on Sunday, it was time to clean aaaaallll the mold out of the downstairs bathroom and figure out what the deal is, where the leak is, and what we're going to do about it.
After three and a half hours of cleaning, bleaching, spraying vinegar (to prevent mold from growing back, according to the internets), pulling up carpets (to reveal the KICKIN' orange and yellow linoleum left behind from yester-year), and setting up the new dehumidifier, I was about spent. I thought the leak was coming from the toilet, so I turned the toilet off, with the intention of checking back today to see if there was any new water. We then went to mom and dad's house to watch Brent ride a rolling desk chair down the street in the snow.
About six o'clock, back at home, we discovered what the deal is. Kimberly had taken a shower, and then her mom came over for a minute. We went downstairs to show her mom the awesome linoleum floor, and then we saw it. The shower in the bathroom was about half full....Kimberly's previous shower had come back up through the drain. This means that our septic tank is most likely full and not doing what it's supposed to do. We have also since noticed that every time we flush a toilet upstairs, the shower fills with water.
Sheesh. I have to call the plumber today (the same plumber that helped Chris and Shaunna) and have him come over and tell me that It's probably going to take about $6.9 to fix our problem, too.
So much for the new furniture, sliding-glass door, stovetop, and oven that we were planning on getting!

Bipartisanship...Everyone Working Together to Waste Our Time...

2009-02-26T17:02:00.001-05:00

Before dismissing this as another political rant, please note that no real political views are expressed in this blog. This is just regular-style bitchin'

President Obama addressed Congress this past Tuesday night. Well, kind of. He addressed Congress off and on with countless interruptions of applause and standing ovations, and general unnecessary fanfare. The address was supposed to start at 9:00. At that point Obama's cabinet was introduced, and they emerged as if they had just won the World Series, and this was their parade. Waves, hugs, kisses, laughs, banter...everything. After about 5 minutes of what should have taken 20 seconds, President Barrack Obama was introduced, and you would have thought it was the second coming of Christ. I believe he shook hands with every individual member of Congress, and in addition, had some comment or another for everyone he encountered on his journey to the podium. I say journey, because this was no stroll...this wasn't a simple walk to the podium. In an uncrowded room, this walk would likely be about 7 seconds. With "traffic", I'm going to put the travel time around 20 seconds. His walk, with all of its stops along the way and treks off the path took somewhere in the neighborhood of 17 minutes. This is ridiculous. It doesn't take me 17 minutes to wake up, get dressed, get in my car, drive to work, and start this blog!

Okay, he finally made it up to the podium...it was time to get started. "Madam Speaker..." (standing ovation). "I have come here to..." (standing ovation). Really? Now, I'm not a dummy. I know that this has been the status quo for some time. From Bush, back to Clinton, back to Bush Sr., back to Reagan, presidents' addresses to congress have been nothing more than a waste of time, interrupted by countless rounds of applause and standing ovations. This time was supposed to be different, though. If what the government has been telling us is right...if what the media has been telling us - that our economy is in shambles, and we're just a few bad home loans away from being a third-world country - is accurate, then damn it, there's no time for applause! Come in, run to the podium, jump up and say "This is what we need to do...this is what we have already begun doing...this is what we plan on starting tomorrow".

Look, this isn't a knock on Obama. I'm still hoping for the absolute best out of his presidency. I really do think he can get some great things done. It just seems ridiculous that these yahoos (meaning everyone in the room that night) are the ones that are actually running our country! It took them about an hour to deliver to the citizens of America a speech that - after removing all the applause and fanfare - was probably actually about 20 minutes.

How's that for efficiency?

Okay, here goes nothing...

2009-02-26T16:27:00.000-05:00

I've done it. After a long time and some careful consideration (more consideration than one should probably give to the prospect of doing something so trivial), I've decided to start a blog. This blog - despite the post immediately following this one - will not be overtly political. However, I'm sure there will be some posts following governmental goings-on. The blog will not follow sports. However, given that the subject is an intrest of mine, I'm sure some posts will fall into that category as well. Mostly, what I hope to do over the course of time is inform and entertain.

Examples of what to expect from this blog include, but are not limited to the following:
Sports
Music
News
Television
Food
Politics
Cheese
Funny stuff that my baby does
Polar Bears
Funny stuff that my wife does
Steam-letting-off
The Thigh-Master
Etc.

So, there goes. Hope you enjoy.