Little Arrows

Did you ever find yourself reading something you shouldn't? The other day I was doing some Christmas shopping and I noticed letters on an article of clothing. Ordinarily I would never have stared 'there', but these words kind of jumped right out at you and you couldn't help checking them out. There was this arrow pointing up and the words said, "My Eyes Are Up Here!"

So there you go, a person doesn't want me staring at a particular place yet hangs a sign on it? What's up with that? When it dawned on me what was written there, I instantly turned a cherry red and this dude standing in front of me started laughing. There was no getting around it. I was looking where I shouldn't and I got caught. I tried to play it cool and casually asked, "Why would you ever write something like that on the front of your pants?" He was laughing so hard he could barely talk, "Why were you looking?"

When something like that happens you can't really say anything. You can try, but trust me, nothing you can think of will seem appropriate. You do, however, get an immediate and clear understanding of Alfred Hitchcock. Sometimes a situation presents itself where the only reasonable conclusion would be to hack someone to death with a butcher knife. I couldn't wait to get away from that scene, left the line and went back to the housewares department. I got this really great butcher knife but by the time I went through the checkout and into the parking lot the only sign I saw was on this Goodwill truck asking me to give to the needy.

I threw my brand new still unopened package containing a 14 inch, stainless steel, rosewood handled knife into the bin. I figured, from then on, I would keep my eyes front and put the whole episode behind me but you never know. Some needy guy might not be as sophisticated as the new me and have occasion to stare where he shouldn't. I hope he appreciates my gift. In the meantime, if you ever throw on your 'my eyes are up here' pants, stay away from needy looking people.....You never know.

Driving tip: "Objects are smaller than they appear."(maybe I should invent some pants that say objects are larger than they appear) That sign on your mirror should also say, "Do a head check because some objects may not appear at all." Two things. You have a blind spot, be aware. Other people have blind spots too. Be aware.

Third Toe Alters History

John the Baptist came over on the Mayflower one day...no...it wasn't John the Baptist, it was a guy named Myles, I always get those two confused. Anyway, Myles the Baptist came over on the Mayflower one day and had some real bad luck. I mean he started out all happy. He got out of bed, heard his kids giggling in the next room and decided to run in there and scare them (Myles was a little weird). Well I don't have to tell you the story...you remember. He took off across that cold floor in the dim light of his rustic bedroom all smiling and everything and slammed the third toe of his right foot into the iron leg of his wife's spinning wheel. The pain was immediate and intense. His whole foot seemed to throb and hot searing anguish shot up his shinbone clear to his knee.

He belonged to a very religious group who tried earnestly to live by the law and Newton's first law states that an object in motion tends to stay in motion. Knowing his momentum wouldn't allow him to just stop and nurse his poor toe he did that amazing...grab your foot with one hand, keep your balance with your other, while quickly bounding on one foot till you slow enough to allow a safe collapse where you can lay on your side, hold your sore toe, and rock back and forth.

His wife, seeing her husband in such a state, inquired, "Are thee all right?" He, being from the part of Pilgrimarica where they spoke real English, and annoyed that his 'all about me moment' was interrupted, answered, "Are the what all right?" She tried to explain that in her dialect the phrase 'thee' meant...you. He didn't get it at all. "My toe hurts and you're talking gibberish, just like you did when I got that parchment cut the other day. You have any idea how bad a parchment cut hurts?" It's a lot worse than a sliver, I'll tell you that."

She smiled, helped him up and said, "Thou Needst to make haste. Thy guests arrive to bid us good morrow at the hearth and make ready the pottage. Now get your breeches on and let us not go arsy varsy." She departed while he stood there shaking his head. "What the hell did she just say?" He hobbled out the door to a yard filled with people. There on the table were his sister-in-law's rolls, his sister's potato salad, his daughter-in-law's banana pudding and the most perfectly cooked turkey he ever saw. He marveled at how someone so young as his daughter-in-law managed to find bananas and Nilla Wafers in Plymouth in 1620 but was grateful and thankful for all the bounty and love before him.

His foot still hurt so he had to lean against a tree to keep his balance as he said grace. He began by apologizing for not being able to stand erect but pointed out that with one foot on the ground it wasn't actually standing but was still kind of standish. That is how we remember him today....Myles Standish. 

Driving tip: When going over the river and through the woods remember that because there is no warm earth (only cold air) under a bridge, they tend to ice before the road.  When in the woods there may be portions of roadway that stay shaded and do not see the warm sun. Those places tend to ice early as well. Be careful. Happy Thanksgiving.    

Inspiration

I just saw a commercial where you can give these guys a hundred bucks and they can take pictures of you and super impose them on other pictures. All of a sudden you can have a picture of yourself hanging ten over the tip of a surfboard while riding a twenty foot wave, leaning over the neck of a thoroughbred as it glides over a six foot fence or be sitting behind the wheel of a car as it does a four wheel drift around a hairpin corner at a hundred and ten miles an hour. I got pretty excited, I mean for 100 bucks I could make my life look interesting. My friends would be so jealous.

I thought about some of that for awhile then got all pragmatic. If I really wanted to impress people who know the real me, I could maybe show them a picture of me opening up a letter containing my credit score. They would gaze at it and see me smiling at the giant 675 and they'd sigh and dream of one day becoming a financial guru such as myself. In reality, the last time I requested a credit score all I got for my trouble was a bunch of bills from people who were really grateful I finally disclosed my new address to someone in the finance industry. You can't trust those credit score people.

The fact is, with my financial credibility, we, as a nation can be grateful I didn't effect history in a more substantial way. For instance,  it's lucky I didn't bet on Seabiscuit. If I had, there is no way he would be a legendary racehorse today. He'd  be pulling a coal wagon. Can you imagine how sad that would be? A seventy seven year old horse pulling a coal wagon? I'm serious, he would have lost. He would not have inspired us to raise above the great depression. We would still be all depressed, I know I am, and we'd all be out walking the tracks gathering spilled coal to try to sell for enough change to buy a Dr. Pepper.

So here lies the hope. If you are currently unemployed, rent that Sea Biscuit movie or better still, borrow it. Take heart in knowing I did not bet on that horse, we did rise up and will again. For your sake, I will take the money I would ordinarily bet on whatever new inspiration comes our way and maybe send it to one of my creditors. They can rejoice with my five bucks and things will get better. Remember, when things begin looking up....you owe me big. You're welcome.

Driving tip: It rained last night, then it got cold. Your door locks are now frozen and you can't get in your car. Do not try and force the key. It will break off in the door, trust me on that. You can heat the key with a lighter, stick it in the door, re-heat it and keep repeating the process till after the outside temperature gets above freezing for three hours and, your door will open. Or, buy a can of fuel line antifreeze, pour it on your key and try it. After a few applications that should work. If you are handy to an electrical source and you have, or know a person who will loan you, a hair drier, turn that baby on high and aim it at your door lock area for a few seconds... voile. (It also works great for frozen pipes but tell your buds your using your heat-gun. They will be all jealous and wish they were a real man like you who owned his own heat-gun.)

My Lot In Life

The alarm goes off at 4:00 but you don't really need it because you're a dairy farmer. Your body knows it's time to bang on the shed walls and wake up the cows. They, like you, don't need the morning ritual but that's how it is. They head down to the barn and milk shed where they get a treat of oats while being milked. After 107 of them go through the process they wander happily back to the field while you fire up the tractor, load fifteen 80 pound bails of hay on the trailer, and feed the sons of b...I mean daughters of... black and white Holsteins. You know you have to shovel up what they just left on the floor of the barn and with that to look forward to you head on down to get yourself some breakfast. They don't have to be milked again for twelve hours so there will be plenty of time to shovel the barn, feed the calves and tend to that sick heifer before you cut and bail hay this afternoon.

Your wife, on the other hand, just lazes in bed till 5. Then after getting breakfast for you and those three sons of b.. two sons, and one daughter of...Bill and Betty, she gets to escape the hell-hole and go to work. Her job is easy, she's a waitress, or a nurse, or a secretary, or a manager, or a police officer, or a teacher, or a City official or whatever it is she does. She thinks she's the one who has it rough. You're stuck out on the ranch all alone. She gets to see and hear other people all day. Bosses, customers, kids, co-workers...All you see and hear are cows, birds, frogs, wind in trees, a dog bark, the creek constantly babbling. Yep, she sure needs to re-think how things really are.

 

Driving tip: Next time a big truck cuts you off in traffic, instead of thinking sinister thoughts about all truck drivers, think about how many trucks didn't cut you off. I guess it's human nature but when a car gets out of line you despise that guy. When a truck does it, you tend to hate everybody in that industry. I get that, it's called ad hominum. For instance, if a politician is evil and corrupt that doesn't mean all politicians are evi....never mind, bad example. But if you work on your own attitude a little you will be calmer and much more able to deal with unexpected situations in traffic. Like say when that son of a Bill and Betty swerves his bull rack and cow pee spills all over your car. With a good attitude you can concentrate on how to get out of the skid and not on how to kill Bill.    

         

Dessert

Don't you just love cookies? I mean somebody gives you one of those and they can track every time you visit their site. They're all like, "Welcome back George." and you go, "Wait a minute, I'm not George." You panic a little, "Why do they think I'm George? What if George owes those people money? What if George goes to those sites where people shouldn't go?" You consider closing the site, maybe erasing your history or, if you're really nervous, pulling out all the stops and going for the hard boot. You begin to hate your wife a little for ever saying it was OK to get that first computer back in 1980. If she wouldn't have been so soft you wouldn't be here today. You grit your teeth, your brow furrows in concentration and you think maybe, when she isn't looking, you might just reach over and pinch her real hard. You know you won't, she would just tell and you'd have that to deal with, but you feel a little better for having thought it. You look back at your screen and could swear that the font on George got bigger. You're almost at your wits end. You start wishing you had never gotten that stupid computer, or that dog, or that haircut back in 8th grade. That magazine made it look soooo cool. You begin to fantasize about taking that magazine down. You could cyber-attack them and the cops would be looking for some dude named George. This could turn out OK. George could start e-mailing people and tell them what you really think. George could go to those sites people aren't supposed to.

Over time you become a little jealous of George. He can do anything he wants with no repercussions. He gets to live a life of fantasy and you have to clean up the dog poop in the living room. He's out there taking down magazines that feature stupid hair cuts while you rake your lawn. You detest George, that bastard has no idea how hard life really is. You wish he'd never been born. You would do anything to be rid of him...anything. The corner of your upper lip curls into a snarl as you plot his demise. What to do? What to do? All the air rushes from your chest, your shoulders fall and your head drops in despair. George is a formidable opponent. You're no match. You accept it and resolve to move on in George's shadow, gleaning whatever small pleasures your shambled life can provide.

'Welcome back George.' You read those words once more and a little hope glimmers from inside your heart. You let the corners of your mouth edge upward in a small smile. You catch your breath as you read the words following that introduction...'Not George?' You laugh out loud, cursing the hell that spawned that creature as your pointer descends onto the left click button of your mouse.

Don't you love pie? With pie you can measure the diameter of a circle, divide it by two, and find its circumference or area.

Driving tip: This one is mostly for the women. No chauvinism here, but women tend to start to fuel their car and then get back in. Men like to stand by the pump, hold the nozzle and look cool. I think it has to do with clothing fabric, humidity and a lot of scientific stuff but when you slide your butt on the seat you can build up a static electricity charge. When you exit the car carrying that invisible charge and grab the nozzle to remove it, you might get a spark. Especially on a hot day, when fuel vapors are more likely, your whole fueling experience gets incredibly dramatic. If you return to your car seat while fueling, touch something, any metal thing, on the car before you grab the nozzle. You may get a little zap but you won't blow up your car.
Boys, the same thing applies when filling up a lawnmower can. Set it on the ground before you fill it. Do not leave it in the bed of your awesome pickup. A spark will ruin your paint and, after you get out of the hospital, people will point at your rig, laugh and say, "That thing looks like it was in a fire."        

What Did He Say?

Remember when you were a kid and your mom asked you to try and do a better job cleaning your room but it came out, "I wish we would have stopped having kids when your sister was born." and so you didn't get too excited and resolved to hope she didn't check your room anymore? If you didn't, you should have learned then that people don't always say exactly what they're thinking. For instance: Your boss might want you to pay better attention to the details of your work. It will sound like, "Get your head out of your ass or find another job." Your barely teenage daughter might want to experience debauchery and sin untold..."Can I stay at Mary Joe's tonight Daddy?" And you know your son is up to no good whatsoever if he hits you with..."Morning Dad." You can always tell about a son.

Armed with this knowledge about humanity's tendency to be vague about true intent you will be better prepared when a politician says, "I will fight for you." ( I can make a lot of dough if you are stupid enough to elect me.) or someone says, "Excuse me." ( I didn't think that fart would be that loud.) or...

"Are you OK?" (Man, if this person isn't OK I will be able to save them and be some big hero and they probably have millions that no one knows about and will reward me and I will be able to get a better handle on my daughter and more control over my son's future and be able to tell my boss where to get off and my mom will wish she stopped having kids before my sister and resumed again just after and I can get thicker, more sound absorbing underwear and life will be good.)

"Yeah, I'm OK, thanks." (I don't have any money but I was a little impressed at the volume of your anal outburst and I really don't want you touching me just now.) 

"I'm glad. I was worried about you." ( Shit, I knew this loser didn't have any money and he probably didn't even hear what I did a few seconds ago...it wasn't that loud, I'm just being self conscious.)

"I'm fine, really, thanks again Sister Theresa." (In church? Puts a whole new spin on 'Sound the trumpets'.)

"Go in peace." ( There is no way he heard that. Why would whoever is writing this portray me as a nun when they just suggested through my thoughts that I had a son and a daughter?)

"Bye." (I hope I can keep a straight face when Father O'Shay refers to her as a windbag and I doubt if anyone will catch the part where I said she had a son and a daughter.)

See what I mean? People never say exactly what they're thinking. (I'm sure glad they are reading this instead of hearing it. That would sure be embarrassing. I think I need some tissue.)

Driving tip: Winter tries to get you anytime you drive. If you experience ice, you need to bring up everything you know about physics. A corner you might easily negotiate at sixty miles an hour when dry becomes a challenge at 40 when ice gets involved. A two hundred foot stopping distance might triple or, if you're going downhill and lose traction, you may not be able to stop at all. The key to corners, hills and driving in general in winter is traction. Lower your speed, increase your following and stopping distances. If your car loses its grip and starts sliding, steer in the direction of the slide. Get your front tires back in front. If you leave the road and careen down a hill it is much better to be able to steer your way around a tree than to be sideways and get your paint all messed up. In the north there is usually some sand on the shoulders left over from the previous storm. Remember that. Be careful and leave the cell in your pocket.  

  

Navigation

If you are old enough, you remember when the new fangled watches came out that if you held your pointer on one button while pressing on another with your pinky and pushed the third with your chin you could slip your toe up there and spin a little dial and the amazing contraption would actually tell you what time it was. Those were the days.

I miss the times when new advances in electronics were so astounding. I have this new GPS device that will tell you exactly where you are anywhere on the planet. Some people don't seem to be as enthused as me and actually get a little exasperated at my ability to utilize new devices. I was driving home the other day and my wife called on my cell. I Bluetoothed her into the midrange speakers of my 27 audio source media outlet (fully web accessible) and when she asked where I was I replied, "27 minutes, 33 seconds North by 33 minutes 17 seconds West. She asked when I might get home and I said I couldn't let her know just then as I was in traffic and needed to keep my toe on the pedal, so couldn't access my watch.

Things got a little hectic then. I intended to look at my navigation screen to see if I needed to turn but instead brought up my rear view camera display. This guy behind me had these really cool 51 inch rims with tires that had a sidewall of less than a quarter inch. Man, I wanted some of those. While distracted by those shiney beauties I heard the beep beeping of the crosswalk alerting blind people that the light was going to change and mistook it for a back up alarm on a Lincoln Navigator (the car, not the device) and swerved to miss it. Long story short, I drove off a cliff and crashed into a 400 foot cell tower. Now here is where I got lucky.

 When I fell off the cliff my six point safety harness held the top half of my body securely but my legs were free to flail about at the whim of physics. My right foot wound up near the steering wheel and when the front airbags deployed they shoved my foot up and to my left. The side airbags pushed my arm into my face and my toes somehow wrapped around my wrist and jammed against my watch (I have no idea what happened to my sport 2 exercise shoes, the laces on those things are primitive). I took a deep breath to compose my excitement before commanding Onstar to call my wife and tell her that I just happened to know it was 6:30, I was at the cell tower 2 blocks from our house and should be home around 10. The blue sky looked awesome as I stared at it in my rear view screen and I couldn't wait till the jaws of life would finally allow me to get out, get online, and see about some new rims.

If it had been 1963 I would have already been home (less traffic then), my phone would have rung (ours was one long and two shorts), and all I would have had to talk about was whether or not Jim and Margaret were going to allow Betty (Princess) to go to the sock hop. James (Bud) would have hit Kathy (Kitten) with a basketball and the Andersons would be living a much more exciting life than me. As it is, if I can just move my toe a little to my left, I can activate my stopwatch program and see if it takes longer than usual for the rescue squad to get me out this time.

Driving tip:  Most accidents happen within 10 miles of home. Don't let your guard down because you are in familiar territory. I believe that statistic to be true but the fact is, most driving is within 10 miles of home. You should really not let your guard down...ever. Your children and paint will thank you.

Don't Blame Me, I Voted.

Did you ever wonder how serious people are about their bumper stickers? The other day I was facing backward, my hands under the bumper and my back against the trunk of my wife's car. It took me almost three hours to get her to work. I sat to rest and admired my shiny "I'd rather push a Chevy than drive a Ford slogan". This one dude walked up and laughed at my situation. I asked why he was walking and he replied that he had a perfectly good Ford but his friends wouldn't let him drive it. I understood. The rub was when this brand new Caddy drove past with a sign that said my other car is a Cadillac.

Stickers really are intriguing, my best bud has one that says, "say it with a gun" I told him I didn't get it and he laughed at my ignorance. My eyes flew open then, and I nodded my head in acknowledgement just before I pulled the trigger. I am going to miss that guy, he was so profound and real smart. He even had a sticker that said he was in the top 2 percentile in intelligence and he could care less about the other 95. I wasn't sure about that. If you really are in the top 2 percent I think you don't necessarily need to heart the other 95 but some compassion might be appropriate. What about the girl whose kid serves honor rolls to the students at that famous school? Or the guy who supports the arts? His kid and money go to the movies on Saturday night. Or the fella that would rather be driving a Titleist? That poor soul wants to drive a car that doesn't even exist. Maybe he got hit in the head with a golf club or something but the point is...compassion.

I had this great idea for a sticker that would say that bloggers do it at least three times a week unless they're busy or tired or can't think of anything to say and then it might be just two but for sure on Fridays, or Saturdays at the latest. I'm going to need a bigger bumper but that's cool. It will give me a better chance for a good grip when I'm pushing my wife to work.

Driving tip: If you can read the sticker on the car in front of you, you are not paying attention to the road. That can be really hard on your paint.

Soccer

Эй вы, русские, спасибо за чтение моего блога.
Slow down now, I am not going to write the whole thing in Russian. I just wanted to thank those guys over there for reading my stuff. I hope I said what I wanted to, I trusted Google translator and have no idea what the first part says, really.
Language is peculiar. Remember when you were one and it sounded like everybody was talking gibberish so you talked a little gibberish and everyone said how cute you were? Then you got older and thought they were making sense and finally you grew completely up and realized that you were right when you were one. Full circle.


I wanted to talk about sports some more and let you know what sort of person is drawn by a particular sport. For instance, If you like football you tend to eat a lot of nachos and are probably a beer drinker. You like telling other people how to do things when they can't really hear you and you probably own some ridiculous shirts. If you like baseball, you eat a lot of nachos and...Actually, all sport enthusiasts are exactly the same except golfers. If you like golf you are a liar. You're lying to me, all your friends, and most importantly, yourself. Nobody likes golf. If you participate, you have serious issues with your mom and are a little bit of a masochist. That's right, a masochist. You like pain and anguish while getting screwed by a sport that could not care less about your physical and emotional needs. 


All sports have officials except golf. Oh yeah, some guy in a plaid dress carries some bagpipes around and acts all important but who calls the fouls? You do. If you lie about a particular shot, maybe take a Mulligan, then your mom is right there, sitting on your shoulder, going "tisk, tisk", and pointing her chubby little, or long, bony finger at you. You don't see a 110th yard in football or a fifth base, there is no beyond the blue line or the other side of the key, but there is a nineteenth hole isn't there. Saddened people trying to drown out their mothers. If you ever meet someone who brags about being a five handicap you now know that you are really looking at a person who does not respect their mom. Do you really want to associate with that type?


Be careful that you don't overload with sports information like me. If you get too much you get confused. The other day I was drying my hand off at the line of scrimmage on lane five. The guy in lane seven began running toward the foul line. No one blocked me at all and I hit him just below his hips. He had that 14 pound Black Diamond back , just ready to toss it,  and he fumbled. I thought I would be a big hero but everyone just stared like I had done something stupid. Go figure. Stupid would have been that time the guy on lane nine lofted the ball toward the goal and I ran across four alleys, dived through the air, and took it out with my head. 


Driving tip:  Don't ever let someone else make driving decisions for you. If it is raining or icy out and most people seem to be going faster than you, do not speed up. They don't know how your tires are, the condition of your suspension or least of all your personal capabilities. Stay in your own comfort zone. If you are holding them up, get out of the way, go down an off ramp and up the on to give them a chance to go on down the highway. Be courteous, be safe and keep your paint in good shape.