How I Met My Wife

In July of 1996 (now a college graduate), I was single and not sure where to go next. Like many, I had trouble meeting people (read: eligible women). My mom suggested trying the personals. There was a public access show on TV that twice a day ran ads for singles searching for other singles. So I called their number, placed an ad, and gave my mom's phone number as a contact (I didn't have my own phone at the time).

A week later, I saw my ad on the telly. They had put my info in and titled it, "Sweet Sounds on the Radio". I checked every few days to see if I had any messages. One afternoon, I went to my mom's and noticed that I had a message. I played it back. The woman sounded nice. She left a pager number for me to call her back at. I tried the number and, after some confusion on how to do it, left a numeric page.

She called me back about 10 minutes later and explained that she was an orderly at the Gundersen Lutheran hospital in LaCrosse. Like me, she had also graduated from Winona State two months prior. We talked for a short while (she had to get back to work) and exchanged phone numbers.

We called each other several times over the next week, gradually getting to know each other. Turns out we only lived about 8 blocks from each other. We couldn't meet that first weekend because she had prior plans to see a friend in the Cities and go to a play ("Fiddler on the Roof") with her. We made tentative plans to meet at the Golden China restaurant (even though I didn't like Chinese) in Winona on Saturday, July 27th.

However, on Wednesday the 24th, I called her and asked about getting together that evening. She wasn't so sure, but did agree. We decided to meet at the Winona Information Center on Huff Street right next to Lake Winona. She told me what kind of car she would be driving, what she looked like, etc. so that I would know when I saw her. I got off the phone and rode my mountain bike to Huff.

I got there a bit early and sat down on a bench just outside of the Center. I was nervous, but definitely excited. I saw a car enter the parking lot like the one she described, a 93 Dodge Colt (which she continued to drive until late 2007). She got out of her car. I saw her. She saw me. She had a big smile on her face. She had these big Coke-bottle type glasses on her face, so it was hard to really see what she looked like. She sat down and asked if I wanted to go for a walk. We proceeded to walk around the smaller of Winona's 2 lakes.



She asked me lots of questions and when I would answer, she would say, "Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh". After our circuit around the lake, I was unsure what (if anything) we should do next. She suggested we go to the Acoustic Cafe. So she drove there while I biked. I had a lemonade while she had some type of sandwich. We continued to talk and afterwards outside, I gave her a hug. I wasn't sure what was to come with this young lady I had just met, but that meeting more than a decade ago turned out to be a major turning point in my life.

More Timeless Wisdom

Confucius say, a kiss is just shopping upstairs for downstairs merchandise.
Confucius say, killing two birds with one stone often ends with hate mail from the humane society.
Confucius say, to make a long story short, don't tell it.
Confucius say, a Platonic Relationship develops after two good friends get tired of screwing each other.
Confucius say, a politician is one who shakes your hand before elections and your confidence after.
Confucius say, a cigarette is a pinch of tobacco, wrapped in paper, fire at one end, fool at the other.
Confucius say, to get an Irishman to climb on the roof, tell him that the drinks are on the house.
Confucius say, the only thing divorce proves is whose mother was right in the first place.
Confucius say, a prostitute with a degree in psychology will blow your mind.
Confucius say, a tight dress is like a barbed fence. It protects the premises without restricting the view.
Confucius say, sex is the only activity where you start at the top and work your way to the bottom, while getting a rise.
Confucius say, marriage is like taking a bath... after you've been in it for a while, it isn't so hot.
Confucius say, man who look to stale cookie for advice probably make good busboy. Ask waitress for application.
Confucius say, girl who go on fishing trip with 6 men, come back with red snapper.
Confucius say, when TV repairman got married, the reception was excellent.
Confucius say, always yield to temptation, it may not pass your way again.
Confucius say, mother nature's best aphrodisiac is still a naked woman.
Confucius say, man who sink into woman's arms soon have arms in woman's sink.
Confucius say, basketball player who marry midget lady will be nuts over her.
Confucius say, an enemy is sometimes nothing more than a friend who got wise to you.
Confucius say, if you can't be content with what you have received, be thankful for what you have escaped.
Confucius say, when a man steals your wife, there is no better revenge than to let him keep her.

Happy Pills 2

After I couldn't deal with the side effects of the first two antidepressants I was put on, Dr. Smick put me on Paxil. Again, I was hopeful, but somewhat doubtful that it would work. I had read that some people do not respond to medication at all. That would suck, to be depressed indefinitely. Actually, in such cases, they would pursue something like Electroconvulsive Therapy (ECT).

I continued to work on reversing my negative thoughts. I spent time with friends and was able to continue working in the kitchen at Sammy's Pizza. A coworker said he heard that I was experiencing depression and told me that he had gone through the same thing. He said that it was a real "bitch". He was able to get over it, however. It was around this time that he asked a lady that worked the morning shift if she would like to go out with him. She accepted and they eventually were married.

But, anyway, back to my shit. I was also put on Trazodone. During this time, it took me quite a long time to get to sleep. I would just keep thinking about things and not be able to drift off very easily. I remember the first evening I took Trazadone. About 20 minutes after ingesting it, I started to get really tired. I wanted to think about things as I usually do, but I was just too damn tired. I could definitely get used to this.

After a couple more weeks, I did start to feel the effects of the wonder drug, Paxil. It's hard to describe, but it really gave me a kick. I did things that I was way too depressed to do before like the dishes and cleaning the house. I became, what I liked to call, "blazingly optimistic". I wanted to experience life again. Laying in bed was no longer an option. I had been reborn. My Christian friend, Dean, was a bit dubious. He would've preferred that I got better the old-fashioned way, through suffering, through prayer,



without the meds. But he wasn't the boss of me. I did as I pleased and was well rewarded.

During the height of my depression, I had gone to the movie "Mrs Doubtfire" with my mom and her girls, but left about a half hour in because I was just too depressed to laugh (or maybe the movie just wasn't funny). I mosied on over to a screening room that was playing "A Perfect World", a ponderous movie starring Clint and Kevin.



One of the main characters was shot. It definitely suited my state of mind at the time. A few months later, now cured, I returned to "Doubtfire" and was able to get a few chuckles out of it (I still don't think it's super funny, though many people think it's the shit, including my wife).

I started going to my counseling appointments in a really good mood, almost too good a mood. My support network was quite happy to see that I had recovered. I eventually stopped going to CIA (Christians in Action). There were just too many things I wanted to explore now, such as going to the sinful Aquarius club in Rochester and slow dancing with a hot mama. Still being a virgin, I looked forward to "getting my freak on". Yes, indeed, my tropical depression had passed and I believe that I am a stronger person now due to the experience. Once you've been to hell, you really appreciate all the other realms. More than a dozen years later, all is well.

An Ounce Of You-Know-What

Two relatively young relatives of mine have cancer. Since the disease is typically thought of as something that strikes older folks, getting it at a younger age is usually viewed as tragic, something that shouldn't be happening. It will be a grand day if/when a cure is found.

In the meantime, what can one do to avoid being afflicted? If you want to limit your chances of a heart attack, get your cholesterol down and hit the treadmill while watching "Lost". Strike that, it's hard enough trying to make sense of the show while paying full attention to what's transpiring on screen. Last night's season premiere was fantastic. It dealt with a favorite subject of mine: alternate realities. It was something to see those who had spent so much time together on the island not know each other after they got off the plane which crashed in another reality, all the relationships that would never be.



Getting back to the thrust of this post, I was suprised to read a report today which says that 40 percent of cancers are preventable. Now, of course, one has a much better chance of avoiding lung cancer by not smoking, but being able to find ways to prevent breast and colon cancer from occuring? I'm in, well, at least for the colon portion.

For those who wish to reduce the likelihood of their getting the Big-C (sorry, Fay) and increase the likelihood of having a long life in this particular reality, here's what the report suggests: stop smoking (if you do), limit your alcohol consumption, avoid too much sun, and maintain a healthy weight through diet and exercise. It's almost too simple.

Happy Pills

I had to chuckle this afternoon when I brought in the mail after doing some snow shoveling. The cover of the latest Newsweek had the headline, "Antidepressants Don't Work". Just over three years ago, I wrote about my experience with the buggers. For those who weren't with me back then, here's the first part:

In the late spring of 1993, I was finally coming out of my shell and making friends. The man who started this was a chap named Dean. He was a member of CIA. No, not that one, you dirty devil. Christians In Action. We both attended Winona State at the time and were business majors. I lived off-campus in a house on East 3rd. He lived at Lourdes (how appropriate for a Christian) Hall.



It was a very old building with a lot of character. From time to time, I would get lost in their halls. There was much to do there, however. We played frisbee outside, walked around the neighborhood, and I once even ate at their cafeteria, which reminded me of a monastery (not surprisingly, it once was). I also got to know a friend of Dean's named Candy and spent some time with her as well. I had friends now, but still wasn't happy. How could this be? I gradually became more and more depressed.

It's hard to describe depression to someone who hasn't experienced it. It's not something that you can "snap out of". It's like telling someone with diabetes to "get over it". No matter what I did, no matter where I went, I was in emotional agony. All I wanted to do was stay in bed, in a fetal position, no less. If I couldn't be happy, what point was there in living? Dean encouraged me to pray which I did, but I still couldn't seem to get out of the shitter. I talked to my mom about what was going on. She suggested I see a counselor. I agreed. After all, this was something I could no longer handle on my own.

I was seen at the local mental health center. They were located in downtown Winona, just a couple blocks from the mighty Mississip. I saw a nice lady there and talked about many things. My childhood, my time in college, the passing of my grandmother just a few months before. She encouraged me to get counseling regularly and that it probably wouldn't hurt to go on an antidepressant. In order to do this, I would need to see a psychiatrist. I was referred to Dr. Smick. She worked at Parkview Behavioral Health Systems (located just adjacent to the hospital). She did my intake and said there were several meds available for depression. She decided to put me on a more old-school one called Desipramine.

Smick told me it would take several weeks for me to feel the full effects. I didn't feel like waiting, but if it could improve my mood, I guess I could hold out. I started the meds, but there were problems right away. One of the main side effects of desipramine is difficulty urinating. That was something I tried to deal with, but couldn't. So a week or so later, I was put on a more recently discovered antidep, Zoloft. I lived right across the street from Goltz Pharmacy, so had no problem getting my fix, I mean, pills. My friends knew I was getting professional help and were quite supportive. I called my mom most every day to let her know how I was doing. She had recently separated from her 2nd husband and was sharing custody of their twin girls, who were just 5 years old at the time. I went to Winona's book store and found a book that helped me deal with the negative thinking that had begun to consume me.

The Zoloft was better than the Desipramine, but not by much. I seemed to constantly have headaches while on it. Smick had told me to be patient, that one of the meds should be able to give me the kick I needed, but, thus far, it just felt like I was treading water.

Timeless Wisdom

Any regular reader of this weblog knows that I am a fan of Eastern philosophy. It offers a more complete picture of how to deal with life than just relying on the Western bits. In that vein, here are some quotes from a man who lived in China twenty-five hundred years ago, Confucius.



I posted a version of this almost three years ago, but have since added twenty new ones for those who have read it before (this means you, Rocket):

Confucius say, he who hesitates is probably right.
Confucius say, war not determine who right, war determine who left.
Confucius say, virginity like bubble. One prick - all gone.
Confucius say, baseball wrong, man with four balls not able to walk.
Confucius say, man who fight with wife all day, get no piece at night.
Confucius say, it takes many nails to build crib, one screw to fill it.
Confucius say, passionate kiss like spider web, soon lead to undoing of fly.
Confucius say, man with hand in pocket feel cocky all day long.
Confucius say, squirrel who runs up woman's leg not find nuts.
Confucius say, man with tight trousers is pressing his luck.
Confucius say, do not drink and park, accidents cause people.
Confucius say, man who run through airport turnstile backward going to Bangkok.
Confucius say, man who live in glass house, should change in basement.
Confucius say, man who fart in church, sit in own pew.
Confucius say, man who masturbate, only screwing himself.
Confucius say, man with hand in pocket all day not crazy, just feeling nuts.
Confucius say, man who have last laugh, not get joke.
Confucius say, early to bed, and early to rise, makes a man healthy...but a social loser.
Confucius say, a Rubix cube is like a penis, the longer you play with it, the harder it gets.
Confucius say, a woman can humiliate any man by simply saying "Hold my purse."
Confucius say, the useless skin around a penis is called "a man".
Confucius say, a vagina is like a very small hotel. One must leave his bag outside.
Confucius say, man who mix Viagra and Ex-Lax doesn't know if he's coming or going.
Confucius say, a smile is like tight underwear...it makes your cheeks go up.
Confucius say, marriage is like a bank account. You put it in, you take it out, you lose interest.
Confucius say, at a nudist wedding, you don't have to ask - you can see who the best man is.
Confucius say, men are like spray paint, one squeeze and they're all over you.
Confucius say, gynecologist and pizza delivery man are very much alike...both get to smell the goods, but neither one can eat it.
Confucius say, Viagra is like Disneyland...a one hour wait for a 2-minute ride.
Confucius say, woman who fall in love with elevator operator, usually get the shaft.
Confucius say, blondes have more fun because they are easier to amuse.
Confucius say, whether or not sex is better than pot, depends on the pusher.
Confucius say, blowing into a blonde's ear is called Data transfer.
Confucius say, men are like cement...after getting laid, they take a long time to get hard.
Confucius say, oral sex makes one's day, but anal sex makes one's hole weak.
Confucius say, dog may be man's best friend, but pussy not far behind.
Confucius say, Christmas trees are like priests...their balls are just for decoration.

McNasty

Yesterday afternoon, while my wife was at an AAA meeting, I stuck my nose into the library's used book store. I only had about ten minutes to look around as they were about to close. One interesting work I saw there was John McEnroe's biography, "You Cannot Be Serious". I chuckled when I read the book's title; I remember many years ago seeing a clip of him saying those four words to a line judge.



I wanted to get the book, but $8 is higher than I wanted to go.

Still having a half hour to kill, I went into the library proper. I hadn't checked out a book in years. If there's a book I really want, I'll just buy it; I don't like the idea of having to return it after a few weeks. Nonetheless, I wouldn't mind reading the McEnroe book for free if they had it there.

I headed to the sports section, then to the tennis section, then to the biography tennis section. Whew. They did have a copy, but I didn't have my card. I asked a male librarian if it was possible for me to check out books with just my ID. He said it was and I found one other bio I was interested in reading: Maureen McCormick's "Here's The Story".

Interesting fact: Both Mc and I were born at the Air Force Base in Wiesbaden, Germany.

On my way out, I saw a kid playing a video game at a computer station. I wanted to tell him he wasn't supposed to be doing that, but it was his own personal laptop. You wanna know what kind of games I played on my lap as a child in the early 80's? Check it out:

Think Fast

Continuing my observations of Eckhart Tolle's newest book, he writes that "most people are so distracted by their thoughts, so identified with the voices in their heads" that they'll do virtually anything to get away from them. Some such activities include drug-induced highs, sensory overstimulation such as excessively loud music, thrills or dangerous activities, or an obsession with sex.

I think one of the reasons I like movies so much is because they get me out of my head. In fact, I get a bit PO'd when they don't. A couple weeks ago, I went to "The Lovely Bones" and was distracted about 20 minutes into it by thoughts of errands I needed to run. While a part of me was obsessing, another was saying, "Shut up. I'm trying to watch a movie."

In my recent post on pleasures, Randy commented that "I need to veg out at the end of the day and will watch lousy sitcoms so that I don't have to think". Now there's a guy who understands why he does what he does. Could it be that we enjoy the things we do, not necessarily because of what they give us, but what they give us a break from?

Grandma's Boy

My favorite grandparent in this lifetime was my dad's mother. Her name was Ruth. Her husband passed when I was 4, so I don't have many memories of him (the only one I can recall is being with him and my family in a blue pickup truck that had a camper attached to it). She lived at 1924 W 5th Street in Winona. Her house was painted light green and was located at the city limits of Winona (a green sign on the street in front of her house said "Winona" along with another sign that said Winona was an "All-America" city whatever that means).

It seems that almost every time we went there as children, Grandma always wanted to get us "washed up". This consisted of sitting on her kitchen sink while she cleaned our face and hands with a washcloth. It wasn't too unpleasant, however. She also did the same for our redheaded cousin.

She had more than an acre and a half of land. Needless to say, getting the lawn mowed was a job that took all day. Usually my uncle would handle those duties. I sometimes liked to climb partway up a supertall pine tree that was in the backyard. About 4 blocks away was a small grocery store called B&B. I remember one afternoon my sister walked with my brother to the store (she was about 8, he around 5). On their way there, they passed a house that had a small statue of a polar bear in its yard. My brother got a little scared. My sister told him that it wasn't a real bear. In the same yard, he said he saw a snake in the grass and started to freak out. She told him that it was simply a garden hose and all was well.

Grandma typically stocked the same foods in her kitchen. Her grilled cheese sandwiches were the bomb. She almost always had some Welch's grape juice on hand as well as Keebler's Fudge Stripes.

My grandma was also one of the first people I knew who had a remote control for her telly. It was pretty primitive, though (It only had 4 buttons on it). I watched several Super Bowls at her place along with my uncle, including number 23. That was the one where Joe Montana of the Niners came back against the Bengals in the final minutes of the game.

My favorite memories are when I would stay overnight at her house. As opposed to when I was at home, when I stayed at Grandma's, it was all about me. One of my parents would drop me off at her place on a Friday night. She would make something for us to eat for supper. We might watch a little TV. If it was nice out, we would go on her porch, gaze out at west 5th and talk about life. I would usually hit the hay at around the time that the Tonight Show was starting.



I slept in the bedroom while Grandma slept on the couch. One night, I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. Grandma said she found me trying to get out the back door. Being half asleep, I thought it was the bathroom door. Grandma told me I had the wrong door and guided me to the loo. It was great getting up in the morning and having some toast and OJ. Waking up to quietness was not something I was used to. In the afternoon, we would walk over to JCPenney and she would usually buy me something that I wanted. One time, I chose this:



We would relax at her place the rest of the afternoon. One of my parents would pick me up in the early evening and we'd head back to the rolling hills of Rollingstone, Minnesota.

Pleasure Island

There are three main pleasures I look forward to these days: eating, sex, and watching telly. Which do I enjoy the most? I think it might actually be eating as last night I was fantasizing about how good it was gonna be to go to the pizza buffet tonight. Eating at home is nice, but munching on thin crust pepperoni pizza and dessert sticks with a Cherry Coke nearby is ecstacy. I've had to be more cognizant lately about taking my time eating at the pizza place in order to prolong the pleasure (this strategy can also be applied with sex).

I only watch TV shows that I am genuinely interested in. I feel better lying in bed in a fetal position than watching something on TV that's not doing anything for me. My favorite programs to watch are Ghost Hunters (the only really compelling part is when they show the client the evidence they caught), Modern Family, Inside the NFL, Community, The Office, 30 Rock, Lost, The Amazing Race, and Big Love.

I'm also thankful for a number of smaller pleasures: taking a long bath while reading a good book, hanging out with the cat and dog, and a not-inconsiderable bowel movement.

Guess What?

Yesterday morning, having some time to kill, I went to a number of stores. I've been on a bit of a book kick lately, but don't like paying full price, so checked out the selection at a couple "gently-used" stores. At Salvation Army, I found an Oprah Book Club selection by Eckhart Tolle called "A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life's Purpose" (I love how the book cover matches my template).

Though the cover price was $14.00, SA was selling it for $1.00. Though there were a number of passages that I skimmed because they didn't really interest me, there were a number of bits that got me thinking. Here's one:

"You are about to tell someone the news of something that recently happened. "Guess what? You don't know yet? Let me tell you." If you are alert enough, present enough, you may be able to detect a momentary sense of satisfaction within yourself just before imparting the news, even if it is bad news. It is due to the fact that for a brief moment there is, in the eyes of the ego, an imbalance in your favor between you and the other person. For that brief moment, you know more than the other. The satisfaction that you feel is of the ego, and it is derived from feeling a stronger sense of self relative to the other person. Even if he or she is the president or the pope, you feel superior in that moment because you know more. Many people are addicted to gossiping partly for this reason. In addition, gossiping often carries an element of malicious criticism and judgement of others, and so it also strengthens the ego through the implied but imagined moral superiority that is there whenever you apply a negative judgment to anyone."

This passage makes clear the appeal of talking trash about someone else, something I rarely do. Could it be that our parents were right when they said, "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all." I'm not saying that we shouldn't tell others if they are doing things that are bothering us (the co-worker who 86's every new idea you have, the parent who never calls, the partner who never wants to have sex during the day), just that it's hard to see the point of saying something about others that you wouldn't say to their face. In conversation, I like to ask others how THEY are feeling, how life is going for them, not what's going on with so-and-so.

Saturday, March 6, 1993

It was a cold morning. I woke up at about 7 o'clock knowing that this was the day I had been waiting for. I showered and wondered if by nightfall I really would be hundreds of miles away from here. I packed my suitcase. I had no time the night before because I had worked late at Sammy's. But I was ready to go this morning.

Just two days before I had received the news that my grandmother, Ruth, had died due to complications that occured shortly after she had a heart attack. I guess it just hadn't hit me. I hadn't spent much time with her lately. Since this trip was already set up, I wouldn't be able to attend the funeral which, in some respects, was good. I could just remember her the way she was when me and Mike and Brian went up there on our way to Valley Oaks on Monday night. That was just before Mom moved into her own place. Things change, but I realized that grandma didn't deserve to be pent-up in that little apartment with hardly anything to do. She is now free to do anything she wants, including, of course, reuniting with her husband who passed 18 years prior.

I waited downstairs with my suitcase ready to depart. My stepdad, Phil, picked me up at about 9am. I put my suitcase in back and hopped into the front seat of his company car and headed off to LaCrosse. He told me about the breakup of him and my mother, which I, of course, was aware of. He said he might be a bit distant and introspective during the trip. I understood.

I was going to Florida for the first time. I had a bit of a cold, but it was basically just an on-again, off-again runny nose. We arrived at the Lax airport. It was about twenty degrees outside with snow on the ground . We checked our baggage and boarded the plane. I can't remember much of that flight from LaCrosse to Minneapolis, just that it was only about 40 minutes long and over quickly. I hadn't been on a plane since about 1986 when Phil and Mom took me with them to California for a few days.

At the Minneapolis airport, I ate at McDonalds. This Micky D's actually served pizza, but I chose chicken nuggets while Phil got something from Pizza Hut. After an hour and a half layover, it was time to go. The flight to West Palm Beach would be around three hours. The plane took off. I listened to headphones part of the way, had a little something to eat. We were in first class which wasn't bad.

As we got further south, I saw that there wasn't any snow on the ground and that brought a smile to my face. We flew over Nashville and soon were in Florida. There were a lot of smiling people on the plane as we landed in sunny West Palm Beach in the late afternoon. I was feeling a little groggy, so I picked up some aspirin at an airport store around the time that we got our baggage. The airport was fantastic. It had beautiful, light-colored carpeting and everyone seemed to be wearing short-sleeves and bright colors. We got a car rental. It was around 75 degrees and the sun was starting to set as we headed to the Holiday Inn Oceanfront Resort where we would be staying at. I rolled down the window and was glad that I had come.

We got the hotel room and then Phil showed me the Atlantic Ocean. It was a sight to see as it began to get dark. Then he took me to Burger King to pick something up because he was going out with an associate he knew that evening. I didn't mind. I was looking forward to just sitting back and thinking. He left. I took a bath and thought about what I had left behind. I watched a little TV and then went out on the balcony. I sat down and wistfully looked out at the mighty ocean.

It was hard to believe that I was in West Palm Beach, Florida on a Saturday night looking out at the Atlantic. But it was true. I thought about the upcoming funeral that my family was preparing for. I thought about Sammy's and school. I thought about the future and looked ahead to this summer when I can enjoy the outdoors again. It was so great to sit outside and not need a jacket or winter coat. I went back inside and watched some of the Dennis Quaid-Meg Ryan-Martin Short movie, "Innerspace".

Phil said that Walt Disney World-Magic Kingdom was the ticket for tomorrow and, of course, we already had tickets to the split-squad Twins-Rangers game the day after tomorrow. We wouldn't be leaving Florida for another 4 days, so there would be plenty of time to enjoy the sights and sounds of the state. Phil got back late and went to bed. I watched a little more TV and then did the same. It was hard to sleep thinking about the Magic Kingdom. But I finally did get to sleep. I couldn't wait to wake up and head off to our next destination: Orlando, Florida!

(typed into a computer at Winona State University in the spring of 1993)

Wipe That Smile Off Your Face

An recent article in New York magazine gives 50 Steps to Simple Happiness.

Here are the ones that resonated the most with me:

Make your bed. Go figure, but outer order contributes to inner calm.

Leave your mouth in that slightly upturned position it takes after saying ‘Cheez Whiz.’ It’s a relaxed, confident look that will convince other people you know what you’re doing.

Collect visual memories of moments when you were incredibly happy, and close your eyes and picture them when you need a boost. The mind needs images to access feelings.

Carry yourself more erect. Poor posture is a self-fulfilling prophecy of gloom. You can improve your outlook and confidence simply by improving your posture.

Never clean your plate at a restaurant. New Yorkers eat out more than anyone, but they can choose to eat less.

Think like a shark, act like a 5-year-old. Our bodies are meant to be in motion. Don’t stay in the same position for more than 30 minutes at a time.

Surround yourself with things that smell like green apple or cucumber, two scents that have been proved to reduce anxiety and boost mood. Candles, shampoo, lotion—anything.

A Visit to the Dentist

For the past couple nights, I've felt a pain on the upper left side of my mouth while eating in the bathroom. Last night, I came to the conclusion that it was emanating from my gums, not my teeth. I considered that good as work on cavities and other teeth-related issues can be quite expensive, time consuming and, oh yeah, painful. But what if it's gum disease? Dammit, I knew I should've flossed more than once a week (I took Zoe to the vet last week and he said I should try brushing her teeth daily or at least every other day as opposed to weekly).

So it was with a somewhat heavy heart that I called the dentist yesterday morning. It typically takes a month to get in, but I could always ask to be called if a cancellation comes up. The receptionist said I could actually get in this morning. Joy. No, I might as well get it taken care of ASAP. Besides, I would be getting my monthly 90-minute massage the following day, so that would be a happy ending to the week, so to speak.

We got about 4 inches of snow last night (Believe me, I know all about 4 inches), so I started up the snow blower early this morning and blew the driveway. I wear earplugs when doing so as what's the point of killing my eardrums over a random blow job? I left plenty early to allow time to get there and while waiting in the reception area, perused a Sports Illustrated magazine that was three months old (beggars can't be choosy in medical waiting areas).

As I mentioned in a post a couple years ago, I close my eyes when the hygienist is cleaning my teeth as what's the point in having them open, to look at the pretty bright light? I was quite relaxed during the appointment; I sometimes tense up during this time. An interesting thing occurred as I listened to the music that was being piped in: as each song played, a memory came to mind, a memory associated with that song.

"Against All Odds" by Phil Collins took me back to Mrs. Suchla's junior-high Foods Class and specifically an afternoon where parents were allowed to help cook a meal with their progeny (I hadn't recalled that specific memory in many, many years). Gloria Estefan's "Don't Wanna Lose You Now" reminded me of my first year in college when both my mom and I were attending Winona State University. Celine Dion's "Because You Loved Me" brought to mind the time when I was first starting out with my wife-to-be (1996).

The hygienist did an exam on my gums in which she gave each a number based on how inflamed they were. She said mine weren't that bad considering, but to make sure that I floss daily from here on out, something I seriously plan to do this time. So it turned out that my problem isn't as severe as I thought and, once again, I have to ask, How in the hell am I ever supposed to learn anything without experiencing any kind of major health issues? I've never broken a limb, ne'er stayed overnight in a hospital (except when I was visiting my wife). Perhaps I'll feel better tonight, thinking of the alternate universe in which I have gum disease and a five-inch schlong.

Eating In A Virtually Empty Restaurant

I went to my favorite pizza buffet this evening (all the pizza, pop, spaghetti, and salad you want for $8).



There was only one other party there while I ate. As I was getting dessert sticks, one of the members of the other party mentioned how surprised he was at the lack of people there. I said, "Well, that's more for us" (though all I ever really eat is some thin crust pizza and a few of the aforementioned sticks).

One possible reason for the restaurant being relatively barren is the cold, but that doesn't typically stop people from going out up here. Perhaps it is because on the 4th of the year, people are still trying to keep their New Year's resolutions which typically include things like staying away from fatty foods and buffets. I don't doubt that in a few weeks, on a Monday like tonight, they'll be quite a few more people ingesting as their good intentions give in to the temptation of a Deep Dish Meat Lover's pie.

I've always had a problem with people saying they're going to start a diet next Monday or the first of the month. If something is worth doing, why wait? It reminds me of the Saint Augustine quote, "Give me chastity and continence, but not yet!" If I'm looking to get healthier, there's no reason to put it off. Typically, once you start doing something, the desire to continue it will show up. Waiting around for motivation to strike is typically a losing game.

New Years Day 2009

One year ago today, my wife and I were on the last day of a 6-day stay in Ashland, Oregon. I started up a blog to write about it last January, but only just finished it a few days ago. Yeesh!

For those who care to check it out, go here.



Some of the highlights included my wife getting frisked, staying in a hotel straight out of the 1920's, and being asleep as 2008 turned to '09. A Brit who read the account called me "garrulous", a word I had to look up as I didn't know the meaning of it.

Wishing you all the best for '10!!

New Millenium, Baby

I've written about how much I adore the movies of 1999 here, here, and here. I've also discussed the job I was working as 1999 gave way to 2000. But it's the music from that time which takes me there most forcefully. Before I elaborate, let me just share a bit of what was going on in my life at that time.

My wife and I were getting ready to move into our first house. We had rented apartments for the prior 3 years and after paying more than $700 rent for quite some time, realized that having our own home was a win, win (other than having to mow the lawn, shovel snow, and living several minutes out of town as opposed to within city limits). Our apartment was just 3 blocks from Saint Mary Hospital, so we constantly heard ambulances and police sirens.

Getting a yard for our dogs and cat was a big move-up as was having a garage for both our transports. We had requested that the home be built with vaulted ceilings, but the builder messed up and didn't do so. Since they wouldn't redo the ceilings, we either had to accept the standard one with a $500 credit or wait several months for another home to be built. We decided to take the credit and ended up moving into our place in January of 2000.

For our first few months there, we were the only ones on the block. In fact, they hadn't even put a streetlight on our block yet. Since the basement was mostly unfinished, we actually had less space to live in than we did in the prior apartment. Living a few miles out of town made me less inclined to want to go out in the evenings. However, I did love the quiet and quickly became used to the "commute".

As '99 drew to a close, a friend of mine and his wife began stockpiling supplies, worried that either all the world's computers would fail or that the world would come to an end. He was pleasantly surprised that nothing happened. I shook my head, never giving much credence to the hype in the first place.

Now, on to three songs that really take me back to those days. The first has Timbaland uttering the name of this post at the end of the song, the second song's video revolves around a party that is taking place on New Year's Eve 1999,

and the third is a late-night tune whose video surprised me in that it shows the use of text messaging (I had no idea it existed back then).

Christmas Time Is Here

I finally finished my Christmas shopping yesterday. Who wants to touch me?

I said, Who wants to touch me?!!

Kmart came to the rescue with a number of Buy 1, Get 1 Free specials. While I was looking for presents for my mom and her girls, my woman spotted something she liked. A few minutes later, heading in another direction, she asked if she could buy the item in question. I said we couldn't afford it, but then picked it up a few minutes later when she went to another store. She made it almost too easy.

One thing I've noted, doing a lot of shopping this season, is the look of not-quite-bliss on so many faces. It's like they don't realize that this is the most wonderful time of the year. Sure, most days are cloudy, there's too much snow on the ground, and the nights are incredibly long, but is it not the Chosen One's big day on Friday?

I think that many resent being slaves to the holiday, having to spend money they don't have on things that their family and friends might not even like. You'll find none of this ridiculousness on Thanksgiving. The joy is in simply being together. Being compelled to give gifts four weeks later doesn't make a lot of sense to me. Sure, I'll like getting Lady Gaga's new EP and a Friday's gift card, but does that compare with making someone smile or laugh? Not even close.

As I waited to get checked out at Kmart, I heard the cashier say to the couple ahead of me, "Would you like to donate $1 to St Jude's?" They said no, but I got an idea. Here is how my conversation with her went:

Cashier: "Would you like to donate $1 to St Jude's?"

Tom: "If you can say, "Suzy sells seashells by the seashore."

Cashier: "I can't do that!"

Tom: "Well, I'll donate the buck, anyway."

I did something similar at the movie theatre earlier this year. A lady was asking people, when they bought their ticket, what their ZIP code was. When she asked me, I said, "12345". Two seconds later, she said "Refusal" to herself and punched a couple buttons.

I got a nice gag gift for my twin sisters. They're 21 now, but I bought them each a RingPop (something they enjoyed as 5-year olds). I may also purchase some Fruit by the Foot; back then, they called it Pruit by the Poot. So cute.

Click here for video of our 2005 get-together.

My Favorite Movies of the Aughts

As we say goodbye to 2009, I thought it'd be a good time to share what some of my favorite movies were from this decade (2000-2009).

My favorite movie of 2000 was "Gladiator". Other goodies from that year included "Scary Movie", "CastAway", "Me, Myself, and Irene", "You Can Count On Me" and "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" (no, this isn't a sex film about the famous golfer).

My fave of 2001 was "Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring" followed by "The Majestic", "The Others", "Vanilla Sky", "Memento" and "Amelie".

2002: "Minority Report", "About Schmidt", "The Ring", "Signs", "The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers", "The 25th Hour"



"Unfaithful", "The Mothman Prophecies"

2003: "The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King", "Anger Management", "Scary Movie 3", "Love, Actually", " Bruce Almighty", "Bad Santa"

2004: "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind", "Super Size Me", "EuroTrip", "Team America: World Police"

2005: "The 40-Year-Old Virgin", "Brokeback Mountain", "The Weather Man", "A History of Violence"

2006: "Borat", "Casino Royale", "The Illusionist", "The Prestige", "Children of Men", Scary Movie 4"

2007: "Superbad", "The Orphanage"



"The Assassination of Jessie James by the Coward Robert Ford", "Michael Clayton", "The Heartbreak Kid", "The Mist", "Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story"



2008: "Wall-E", "Slumdog Millionaire", "Forgetting Sarah Marshall", "Religulous", "You Don't Mess with the Zohan"

2009: "Bruno", "Inglourious Basterds", "A Serious Man", "District 9", "(500) Days of Summer", "The Invention of Lying", "Drag Me to Hell"

There Is More Joy In Giving (Gag Gifts) Than Receiving

Christmas is fast approaching, but so far, I've only bought one present. One good thing about all my blood siblings being Jehovah's Witnesses is that I needn't worry about getting them anything. Same goes for my old man, bless his heart. I've only five people to purchase things for: my mom, her newly-minted husband, my twin half-sisters, and my SexyGirl.

My mom likes getting gift cards, but I can't abide giving them. So unoriginal. Jerry Seinfeld once commented it's like saying, "I put absolutely no thought into this whatsoever!" So I'll go to a number of unique stores later this week and see if I can't find something more memorable.

Last year, I bought one of my sisters a page-a-day calendar called, "Why Do Men Have Nipples? and Other Mysteries". I gave my stepdad, a serious Baptist, a Jehovah's Witness Bible (When my mom talked about potentially rejoining the Witnesses, he said he would not support her on this, even dangling the possibility that he might break up with her). I have a Witness songbook that I may give him this time out.

I remember going to a meeting in college with a group called Christians In Action. After a prayer session, one of the leaders asked me if I had a Bible. I said I did. He asked what kind. I replied that it was the New World Translation. He was knowledgeable enough to realize that this was the one published by the Witnesses and asked if I knew that they were a cult.

One year, I wrapped a sample size package of Viagra and gave them to a friend. He thought it was just an empty box, but was rather shocked when he found tablets inside; don't worry, the meds weren't prescribed to me. On a similar note, I recently found a prescription bottle in the basement from 2002. It was Hydrocodone, a pain reliever I was prescribed while experiencing the excruciating pain of kidney stones. What should I do with them now, all these years later? Throw the bottle out? Flush the tabs down the toilet? Keep them in case Sarah Palin becomes President?

Once

"You only live once". It's an oft-repeated phrase, but is it accurate? If you had the option, would you choose to live again? I'm of the belief that we do, if we so wish. This has informed my life experience for well over a decade. To illustrate, here is a portion of a journal entry I wrote ten years ago this month (the full entry can be read here):

December 27, 1999

"My peace of mind lately has been interesting. I go to work, take the dogs out, have supper, watch some TV, take a bath, and go to bed. On weekends, I can do what I want. And all this is fine with me. I don't really feel that I am missing anything. When I have no places to go, my favorite things to do are to take a warm bath and lay down in bed.

In the past, I felt that I should go somewhere and meet people and such. Now, I don't really have the desire. This has to do with my laid-back attitude and the fact that I don't HAVE to do anything. There's nowhere I need to go, no one I need to see, no goals that absolutely have to be done.

I'm exaggerating a bit, but I do have a choice in all things. I choose to go to work. I choose to do virtually everything that I accomplish. Only rarely will I do anything that I don't want to. I remember as a youngster, my parents telling me from time to time that I would sometimes have to do things I don't want to. But I can't really recall the last time I did something that I really didn't want to at some level.

There is also the fact that I don't look at life as so many years and then you die. I know that I existed before I became Thomas **** and that I will continue to exist long after. So I may not be as compelled to have kids as others who think that all they get is one life and out. I know that I probably have had offspring in the past and/or the future, so having them right now is not necessary, although sometime in the next few years I may choose to do so.



Everything is now, and in this instant, I don't want to take care of a child. In the future, I may. In the future, having children is, like everything else, possible. But, in this instant, it is not a concern. Ask me about it next year.

That's all for now. It's almost 6pm. Time to take the dogs out, get a bite, get some gas, watch some TV, take a bath..."

Going Green...and Red

I decided last night that I'm not gonna give any Christmas cards to my nearest and dearest this year; I typically spend $4 apiece on cards for my mom, wife, and sisters. Ultimately, the cards just say "Merry Christmas" and "I love you" and I'm not ashamed to say that in person. Plus, cards are almost always thrown away after the holidays. If anyone gives me any lip about it, I'll just say, "I'm goin' green. Tis the season".



In a similar vein, I read a capsule review last night of a book called "Scroogenomics: Why You Shouldn't Buy Presents for the Holidays". The author says his theory is solid economics. "As an institution for 'allocating resources' (getting stuff to the right people), holiday giving is a complete loser." One example is that if you spend $50 on yourself, you'll get something worth $50 to you. But if your aunt Winnie buys you a $50 Christmas gift, she's likely to buy something that's worth nothing to you. In economic terms, that's a "deadweight loss". Our shopping puts retailers in the black while we wind up in the red.

My wife received an iPod this past week as an early Christmas present, so my days of being able to brag that I've never downloaded a song will most likely be ending soon. This, less than a week after getting HighDefinition installed on our new TV has my head spinning a bit (but in a good way). It's quite difficult to go back to watching regular definition TV after experiencing the joys of HD. Kinda like having sex with the prettiest girl in town and then trying to find enjoyment with your previous partner.

A Night on the Town

On Saturday, I had the house to myself, so decided to take advantage of the unseasonably warm weather and take Zoe to the dog park. There were a number of canines frolicking in the winter wonderland. Kidding, the ground is as barren as what's between Sarah Palin's ears. Zoe can be a bit timid, but didn't hesitate to sniff a few derriers on that afternoon. We then took the trail that leads to a creek. We didn't stay in that area long as it was quite muddy. A few minutes later, I got a call from a friend and asked if he wanted to get together. He agreed and met me back at the house an hour later.

The first place we hit was Wal-Mart. I had a couple gifts that my mother gave me for my birthday that I wanted to return (some winter socks and a long-sleeve shirt). After receiving $12.50 for the items, we headed for the music section. Over the past week, I'd become a fan of Adam Lambert. It started when I happened to see him performing on the AMA's (his was the last performance and the only one I caught). I saw how risque' his act was and was like, "Damn". I chuckled as the show ended right after his song instead of giving out a last award; It'd be like the Oscars ending by playing a scene from a movie. Next, I read a review in Entertainment Weekly that gave his new disc a B+.

Shortly thereafter, I listened to the recording online at AOL's listening station. I was ridiculously impressed by his vocals and style. This from a man who's only ever watched one ep of "American Idol". So it should suprise no one that I was tempted to pick up his disc when I saw it on sale for a mere $9.95. With the extra money in my pocket from the returns, there was no way I was gonna pass up this deal.

Back in the car, I asked my friend where he wished to eat. He said he wouldn't mind Culver's. Not having been there in quite some time, I said that would be fine. I chose something from their "Meals for under $4" menu and looked for a seat. All the booths were taken save one, one of those corner booths that can seat six. Our party consisted of only two, but I always love sitting in such spaciousness. As we waited for our food, I noticed that the TV they had on the wall was playing Charlie Brown's Christmas in an endless loop. Tis the season. Culver's chicken tenders were pretty dang good for the price. We talked for quite some time as the restaurant gradually began to clear out.

Endorphin Machine

This morning, I was reading an interesting article at Cracked.com about immunity to pain. Here is a snippet:

"Welcome to the wonderful world of endorphins. The very name of this miracle substance means "morphine produced naturally in the body." It's the ultimate feel-good substance. It's released into the body during exercise, excitement and orgasm, and it has the power to dull or completely eliminate pain by coating the receiving end of the synapses in the brain that would otherwise receive pain signals from the rest of your body."

I had to chuckle as I experienced all three examples of endorphin release (exercise, excitement, and orgasm) last night. Looking over the Black Friday flyers, I thought it might be a good time to get a widescreen TV. I had planned on going to Wal-Mart to get one early Friday morning, but first wanted to stop somewhere to see what size TV would be best for our family room.

Yesterday evening, after eating at Friday's, my wife and I went to Best Buy. An employee greeted us at the door. I said to him, "You ready for the weekend?" He replied that retail employees are never really ready for the pandemonium that occurs the day after Thanksgiving.

We headed back to the TV's and realized that a 19" is way too small of a set. A 32" set would be much better while still being affordable; Wal-Mart's set was about $50 cheaper than Best Buy's. It was then that I noticed a sign which said, "Why wait until Black Friday to get this set when you can have it today?" Paying a bit more for Best Buy's set might be worth not having to get up early and braving the crowds on Friday for a TV that might not even be available by the time I got to it.

My wife and I discussed the matter before heading into the can to clear our heads a bit. The thought of having a 32" widescreen LCD TV in my home that very night is what caused me to feel genuine excitement. I was a bit light-headed and giddy, something that I rarely experience.

Once we brought it home, I wondered what DVD I should watch to test it out. I settled on the first "Lord of the Rings" movie (my favorite film of 2001). It was pure heaven.



The LCD made the picture much brighter and the colors were incredible. I laughed at many of the same parts as when I initially viewed the movie, something not typical for me.

I watched the first half of the film last night and plan to continue tomorrow; I have the extended edition (that's what she said) of all three movies which comes out to close to eleven hours, so I'll be occupied with them for the next several days.

Before watching "Rings", I walked 22 minutes on the treadmill which is where the exercise portion of the endorphin equation came in. I plan to put even more time on it this evening. The orgasm element came into play a bit later. I don't know which of the three gave me a greater high last night. Ultimately, it doesn't matter as I can do any and all of them pretty much anytime I want.

Hope Trail

One evening in the mid 90's, having completed my homework at the Winona State computer lab, I decided to write something for fun. But how to get in the proper mood? After messing with some settings, I stumbled upon the idea of working with a unique font; a Western-style one, in this case. Here's what I came up with:

Hope Trail

Sunlight burned across the desolate prairie. She walked through the tall grass, her dark brown hair blowing against her face. Her eyes were as determined as the settlers of a hundred years ago.

She walked with self-assurance, her eyes focused and her forehead tensed. She wore blue jeans, faded and torn. Her blouse was red and smelled of fire. The miles she had traveled could be seen on her face, sunburned and dirty. Her heart pounded as she gazed at the lonesome valley.

She thought of the long road that lay ahead, but she was strong, as strong as a dozen oxen on a rampage. She would never quit, not as long as blood flowed through her veins. Though all was lost, she still had hope and one more chance. She walked under the blazing sun as sweat began to form on her face.

She found a patch of water and stopped to rest. Lying under the big sky, she wondered if she would ever see home again. It had been so long and she had suffered countless hardships. But this time things would be different. This time she would fulfill her destiny. Life leads one through many detours, but you usually end up where you want to go. And she was so tired of taking detours. She slept for a long while as an eagle soared across the summer sky.

The Lesser of Three Evils

I just started reading one of the books I received for my birthday. It's about how to deal with change. The first chapter talks about the three major types of changes that can occur in one's life. They are:

Relationship, such as the dissolution of a long-term one
Money, such as the loss of a job, and
Health, a diagnosis of cancer, for example.

Now, it's trouble enough if you're going through one of these things, but imagine experiencing two or even all three at once. This got me to thinking, which of the three would I choose to experience if I had to? Not health as they say if you don't have your health, you don't have anything. Not relationship as it can be a son-of-a-bitch to find a new one.

No, I would choose money as this would seem to be the one that could most easily be controlled. If a person loses their job, there are quite a few options available. Even if unemployment benefits cannot be obtained, it's not too difficult to tighten one's belt by eating out less and spending a smaller portion on various entertainments. Many companies will allow their customers to set up payment plans. School loans can be deferred. Chow mein is inexpensive and sex is (usually) free.

Endless Sleep

As I began my fifth year of college in the fall of '93, all was not well. I had recently been diagnosed with major depression and though talk thearapy was helping, the psychiatist said it would take several weeks for the antidepressants I was prescribed to take effect (assuming they worked for me, that is).

School was a chore. As a Business major, I took a number of Marketing classes. Under normal circumstances, I would've quite enjoyed taking Consumer Behavior, but I sure wasn't up for it that fall. My creativity was sparked a tad, however, when the professor, a Mr. Bovinet, asked us to write up a couple paragraphs on what product best fit our personalities. I went with an awfully downbeat piece, but what could I do? That's how I felt. Herewith is a copy of what I submitted (click on the pic for a larger version):

I wondered what his reaction would be. If confronted, I would just say that I was being seen by professionals. He wound up giving me a good grade on it and didn't ask any questions though I noticed that he seemed to keeping an eye on me for the remainder of the term (perhaps looking for any other possible suicidal indicators). I found out later that Sudafed isn't a sleeping pill.

November 10, 1970

According to my parents, I was born on this day in 1970. Richard Nixon was President, the number one song was "I'll Be There" by the Jackson 5. Below is an entry I made into my personal journal on November 17, 1999, almost exactly ten years ago:

"My birthday went very well. My mom picked me up at work at 4pm. She took me home to take the dogs out and then we went to Fridays. She said someone was waiting for me. It turned out to be my dad and, of course, my wife, my life. We had a very good dinner. My love gave me an Adam Sandler CD, a Tori Amos videotape, a cake, and a ski mask. My mother gave me the Friendship with God book by Neale Donald Walsch as well as a framed picture of me and my parents when I was a toddler. My father paid for the meal and gave me $100 cash. I spent five of those dollars on "A Country Christmas 1999" at Target. This year's Christmas will be spent at the cusp of our moving into our first house."

Ten years later, I have to chuckle at the consistency of my gift requests. This year, I've again asked for Neale Donald Walsch's latest book and would've asked for Tori Amos' newest one but for the fact that it comes out today.

It's not mentioned in the post, but my father coming was quite notable. You see, he was a Jehovah's Witness and they are strictly forbidden from having anything to do with birthday celebrations, one reason being that a couple big-time parties in ancient times led to some beheadings (for more info on this, go here).

In my mind, that's not enough to throw out the tradition. It'd be like if a woman slit a man's throat after having sex and a law was decreed that in order to avoid this happening again, no one should ever have sex. It's basically throwing out the baby with the bathwater.

The reason my dad decided to come even though he was still technically a Witness was that he had become disillusioned with the faith after the way one of his sons was treated by the elders in the congregation after he (the son) made a slight lapse in judgement (he looked admiringly at himself in the mirror; no, it wasn't that, but it wasn't much worse).



The Witnesses' loss turned out to be my gain and I'm not just talking about the one hundred smackers I received that night.

Addendum: Here is a pic from last night's (11-10-09) celebration:

A Night on the Town

Last night, the Mrs. and I went to Friday's for dinner. It was strange being there at 5:30pm and seeing it dark outside. There were a number of people at the bar, but not too many in the restaurant proper. We had a coupon for a free appetizer which my wife used to order potato skins. However, she asked that they come without sour cream or bacon. When they were brought out 20 minutes later, it was just potato skins with some cheese on top. Not very appealing to me, but she had quite a few. The waitress asked how many trick-or-treaters we had; I said a couple dozen. She said she and her kids dressed up, but not a soul rang on her doorbell. Poor girl, all that leftover candy.

Next it was on to ShopKo to buy a few necessities. In the beauty section, I looked for my trusty Carmex. There was a supervisor wearing a Brad Johnson jersey who was overseeing the work of a couple new recruits.



Not able to find my precious white jar of lip balm, I took a half-spent jar of it out of my pocket, went up to the super, and said, "Hey, BJ. Where do I find this?" One of his subordinates showed me. As I walked away, I heard him ask, "Why did he call me BJ?"

Next, I went to the DVD section where there was a young guy with long black hair doing some stocking. Journey's 80's classic "Don't Stop Believin" was playing. I was quite surprised to hear him say that he loved the song (he hadn't even been born when the song originally came out). I made a comment to my wife about a movie I wanted to Netflix called "Whatever Works". He overheard and said he'd never heard of it. His intrusion into our conversation made him seem like a video store clerk-wannabe. Sometimes I miss those days myself.

After checking out, we headed to the movie theatre to see "The Invention of Lying" (I had seen it a month before, but was eager to go again). We walked into the lobby and didn't see anyone who we could purchase a ticket from. A moment later, I noticed an employee talking to another employee. After a few seconds, I said "Ding" relatively loudly (I did this a couple weeks ago at a bank when a teller didn't notice me at the counter). It's obviously meant to simulate ringing a bell for service.

After doing this last night, the ticket lady kept talking to her coworker. So a few seconds later, I did the "ding" again. The lady then came up to us. My wife asked why I did this. The lady overheard me say, "Well, when I worked at the video store, the customer always came first, so you wouldn't talk to another employee if there was a customer waiting". The theatre is called Chateau, but it is experiences like this that impel me to call it Shiteau.

Going A Year Without Health Insurance

When I lost my job in late 2008, my healthcare benefits disappeared as well (though they weren't the greatest, anyway). The first thing I tried to figure out was how to still get my prescription meds for a reasonable price. I did some calling around and found a store where I could get them even cheaper than what I was paying with insurance. Interesting...

After a time, I looked online for affordable health coverage (an oxymoron if there ever was one). I pondered paying an exorbitant amount for catastrophic coverage, but after about 22 seconds, realized that it just wasn't justified.

Other than being curious about my cholesterol numbers, I've had no reason to see the doctor over the past year. Even if I had affordable coverage, I'd be down more than a grand as most health insurance costs more than a hundred dollars a month.

I haven't been extra careful when walking down the street (avoiding black cats, wearing glasses that are practical as opposed to fashionable, not telling smokers they smell like shit) as I feel that whatever happens, happens.

Circumstances have changed of late that lead me to believe I'll be back among those who are covered in the near future, but I have to admit to getting a bit of a kick out of not being covered. It's kinda like getting up every morning and heading to work without wearing drawers. I can certainly see the appeal it has for twentysomethings.

Pimp My Bike

Throughout my college years (1989-1996), my main mode of transportation was by bike. In the early 90's, I had a standard Huffy 10-speed bike, the kind where you sit leaning way forward and have ridiculously skinny wheels. It got uncomfortable on long trips, but was much faster than walking. The seat was also small and didn't offer much support; this could be why I'm unable to father children.

Tired of getting my ass tore up (that's what she said), I went to Kolter's Bike Shop one afternoon and found an incredibly soft gel seat that was much bigger than the one I had for a mere $15. I purchased the thing of beauty and picked it up the next day (Mr. Kolter needed time to install it). The pleasure I felt on riding the bike home was incredible, like going from using the toilet paper that is furnished in Wal-Mart bathrooms to the softest and thickest shit you can dream of.

With the new seat, biking became more than just a way to get from here to there, it was a joy unto itself. When the time came to purchase a new ride, I decided that a mountain bike might be in order. The wheels were much thicker, they didn't have the ridiculously curved handles that 10-speeds do, and a water bottle was provided for those really hot days. It was also important that I purchased a bike that had a cool name.

As a child, I had a orange banana-seated bike called SkyHawk. I loved that thing. I once outrode a bully (Danny Lehnertz) who was trying to get me; I felt like Han Solo in the Millenium Falcon shaking the Imperials.

I wound up purchasing a green and black bike called Mojave Gulch. I took frequent out-of-town trips on it. I liked to head over the bridge into Wisconsin.



One time, I rode more than 12 miles into Trempealeau, a river town on the Wisconsin side. Instead of taking time to enjoy the city, I started to think about the long voyage back and headed back home. I probably should've been scared of the cars and trucks driving 55 MPH+ past me, but I can't say I was. I also visited my childhood hometown, Rollingstone. While there, I parked in the playground of the elementary school I attended and went on the swings. From there, I could see the house that we lived in in the late 70's and early 80's.

One spring, '92 I believe, I watched the Weather Channel every morning to see how warm it was gonna get. If it was going to be warmer than 50 degrees Fahrenheit, there was a good chance I'd take a recreational ride somewhere.

A couple years later, it was time to get another bike. This time, I chose Huffy's Stone Mountain.



It's the bike I had when I met my wife-to-be. A few months later, I bought a car, so no longer needed to ride the thing. However, on some afternoons, I took it out and rode the local trails. It's been years now since I've ridden a bike (Stone Mountain is in the garage, but his tires are flat), but I'll always be glad for the many years I spent being environmentally conscious by not driving a car (though my wife will probably never forgive me for the toll it wound up taking on my balls).

My First Time...On the Net

I remember the first time I hopped on the World Wide Web. It was 1994. I was about halfway through college. A high school friend and I went to one of the school's computer labs and gave it a whirl. We were both big on "Beavis and Butthead", so headed to a site about them. Only a few minutes later, my friend played a recording of them chuckling. A couple other people in the lab looked at him, fooling around while they were trying to finish assignments.

Sometime later, the school had a special lab set up where people could go to just surf the net. I liked going there in between classes. It was always a bummer when all the seats were taken. The video below reminds me of those early days when Netscape was the main search engine and many of the graphics were still quite primitive. Enjoy the trip back.

(The Memory of) Pain is Temporary

Last winter, my wife and I went to Ashland, Oregon (I wrote extensively about it here). I was somewhat surprised recently to read that I had a reasonable amount of neck pain the first couple days I was there. Looking back now, it's like I didn't actually experience the pain, my mind seems to only want to remember the good things about the trip.

This is most likely a universal experience. So when we think that some past event was such an awesome time or that days gone by far surpass what we're going through today, most likely we're remembering the way it never was. Something to keep in mind the next time you get wistful for the past (though there's virtually no question that the Clinton years were the best of all times in which to live).

Two-Ton Tessie

A month ago, I posted video of our Saint Bernard when she was but a pup. Now here she is full-grown "playing" with little Zoe:

Shades

I lost my sunglasses the day before last. Apparently, I left them on the trunk of my girl's car while it was parked in the garage and then forgot to obtain them the following morning when going to work (as it was rainy out). She didn't notice the spectacles as she left, so they musta fell off onto the road somewhere. I've had them for years, in fact, just a few days before, I was marveling at how I don't generally lose glasses; the previous pair I had for a number of years as well until they wore out. Both were Viper Blublockers purchased from a summer street vendor.

I was bummed for a bit before realizing I should take my own advice and see every change as an opportunity. I thought of ordering another pair online, but then felt it might be best to scope things out around town, see what else is out there. Perhaps I could find an old-school pair that would make people think I'm Don Draper.



One good thing about losing my glasses at this time of year is that the only time I'll be wearing them is in my car as the weather is not really favorable (and won't be for some time) for taking walks. I don't plan to spend any more than $25.

I can still remember the first time I bought sunglasses (at the age of 20). They were quite dark, kinda like the Terminator's. I was somewhat embarrassed the first time I wore them (walking to my Dad's place) as I felt I looked cool enough without wearing them, but WITH them, forget it.

UPDATE: Mission Accomplished. I bought (would you believe) ESPN glasses:



After purchasing them, I went to the grocery store to buy some food. For the heck of it, I perused their sunglass selection. While doing so, I glanced up and noticed a man reading a magazine. Which one? ESPN.

Take Your Pick

I do many things in the morning before leaving the house: taking a shower, getting dressed, pleasing myself. But I never seem to remember to "clean" my nose. I drive to work, work for a couple hours before nature calls and then head to the bathroom. Once there, I can literally feel my nose screaming for relief. It is then that I use my finger to pick at its residue. I really need to put something in my bathroom to remind me to do this shortly after waking.

I typically use the two minutes spent brushing my teeth walking around the house, petting the cat, and marveling at how someone I work with has over 500 friends on Facebook. Another of my colleagues recommended her as a friend, but wouldn't I be just a drop in the bucket to such greatness?

Sometimes at work, I'll want to itch my ass, but first have to look around to make sure no one is looking my way (as if they don't do the same thing). Walking around the lake when such an urge strikes, I'm tempted to do the same looksie, but am generally like, "Who gives a fuck?!" and just do it already. One can't live their life worried that others are gonna think less of them because they like to "itch" certain body parts.

"I Loved It!", "I Hated It!"

A couple weeks ago, my wife and her friend went to Matt Damon's new movie "The Informant!". I told her that the reviews for it were excellent and she was able to convince her friend to go along with her. I returned from work one afternoon and listened as she told me that "it was terrible...but you might like it". I seriously doubted it was terrible, not with a Tomatometer reading over 70%, not from the director of Erin Brockovich and Ocean's 11 (as well as its sequels).

I finally had the opportunity to see it yesterday afternoon and found it to be very good; I chuckled a great deal as the story unfolded. One of the most amusing things was when Damon (as the narrator) would make statements to himself that had nothing to do with what was onscreen. Here is one of my favorites:

Mark Whitacre: Polar bears cover their noses before they pounce on a seal. How do polar bears know their noses are black? Did they look in the water one day, see their reflection and say, "Man, I'd be invisible if it wasn't for that thing."

I was mystified at how others could say that it wasn't good. It's like we literally saw different movies. My wife and her friend also didn't care for "(500) Days of Summer" which I absolutely adored.



Could it be they were expecting a standard romantic comedy while I knew it had an unconventional narrative and didn't necessarily end happily? I've been a fan for more than a decade of quirky, offbeat films while others may prefer the cookie-cutter pleasures of action movies and chick flicks.

That's why when someone says "That was an awesome movie!", it might help to know what their five favorite movies of all-time are. If "Transformers" is on their list, steer clear. At least I would, as that person's taste doesn't match up at all with my own. Call me crazy, but I like to see something unique when I go to the movie theatre, not the same ol' formulaic garbage.

BTW, in a nod to "Team America", when I went up to the box-office attendant yesterday, all I said was "Matt Damon" in the exact same way that it is said in these scenes.