Small and at large

You and me and the devil makes three. Don't need another lovin' babe.

2012-01-30T07:05:00.002-06:00

So posting by text (as I have to now) follows the limited character rules of micro-blogging. False flatulence noise to that, I say, after my long post vanished.

It'll be a day like this one when the world caves in

2012-01-17T07:23:00.002-06:00

Stuck in an elevator since Christmas. Blogger blocking ability to post from phone browser. Film at 11.

And to all a good night

2011-12-25T23:06:00.000-06:00

That's a poor excuse for picking a man's pocket every 25th of December

2011-12-24T21:04:00.003-06:00

I agree Jack-In-The-Box. We should outlaw opening on Christmas Day. Even Cratchit had the whole day off.

Atta boy, Clarence

2011-12-24T20:57:00.000-06:00

I understand the necessity of him misplacing the $8,000 in context of the story, but Uncle Billy is kind of an idiot.

For the pleasure that you bring when you make that doorbell ring, no trip could be too far

2011-12-21T12:14:00.001-06:00

My Mrs. and the little elf are getting together all of the presents for the good little boys and girls in Louisiana, except the youngest. He's getting coal. And not even charcoal from which he could benefit by using it to barbecue. No. Coal. Train fuel. The pearl of West Virginia.

Meanwhile, I am getting the sleigh greased up and dressed down in order to haul all this merriment down there tonight. The first nearly-a-week-off all year - minus the stories I am writing Friday down in Alex.

From Atlantic to Pacific, gee the traffic is terrific

2011-12-19T12:24:00.000-06:00

"I'd hate for my last text to be 'LOdead.'" - Jeff Dinsmore, on matters of texting and driving.

You're a three decker saurkraut and toadstool sandwich with arsenic sauce

2011-12-19T08:29:00.002-06:00

It is strictly my opinion, but drive-through windows would be the worst addition they could offer their customers. People already have trouble making decisions when they are standing in front of the veggie and sauce counter as if any of the offerings have changed since the beginning of time.

"Oh my sweet Lord. Why didn't you warn me that I would get blindsided with all of these choices? All of these unfamiliar and wonderful items? How can you trust any one person to make the right decisions? If only I could phone a friend other than the one already on the line, which is evidence that I think I am a much better multitasker than is true."

I remember when you were here and all the fun we had last year

2011-12-15T14:34:00.001-06:00

If you can determine what happened to 2011, let me know. Just an initial guess, but I think it sprung a time leak somewhere.

I was just in D.C. a couple of months ago, right? Or maybe 12. Hard to tell with the faulty timekeeping of 2011 counting the days.

What about all of the other places I parked on that mad-dash road trip of the subsequent days? Are they also the full arm's length of a year away? Lies.

Assuming there is some truth to that, however, a much more important question arises. Why the hell am I still in this car a year later?

All I want for Christmas is you

2011-12-12T16:57:00.000-06:00

It's not strange to dream about pumpkin pie for three nights in a row. Only when you dream you married a pumpkin pie ... and had three little pumpkin tarts together. And moved to a gingerbread house in a suburban grocery store. That's the line. Right there.

It's that time of year when the world falls in love

2011-12-10T16:11:00.000-06:00

Yes. People are annoying. The formula of number of people in a confined space to annoyance factor is often directly proportional.

Yet, something about cramming into a line at the mall during the holidays seems to flatten the slope at which the annoyance factor reaches critical mass. We are all here for the same reason I guess, so we more readily overlook each other's shortcomings.

But the few that do flip out in that scenario then become the enemies of the many who have gathered peacefully. And thus, they must be dealt with properly: by shun. Merciless shun.

Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow

2011-12-08T08:57:00.000-06:00

And hurry down the chimney tonight

2011-12-07T16:08:00.002-06:00

Yeah. I wore a Santa hat the whole time my district manager rode with me today. And when I dropped off Hot Tamales off under the guise of bringing something hot on a cold day, staffers at three offices asked if it was six feet tall with blue eyes and wearing a Santa hat. Who knew this was my look?

It would be weird to rock the red velvet stocking cap all year, yes?

Deck the halls (and the woman in line)

2011-12-05T19:30:00.000-06:00

Must...focus...on...Christmas...spirit. Came...to...buy...tree. Woman...bickering...over...two...dollars. Why...did...it...have...to...be...Grandma...who...got...run...over...by...a...reindeer? Why not...this Grinch?

Well, the true word has the same vowel and final two letters, and rhymes with Grinch when spoken quickly.

And mediocrity held sway

2011-12-02T14:07:00.001-06:00

Thongs are great.

Of course, that is meant in the Beach Boys sense in reference to flip-flops. Where was your mind? Maybe you should look at how your living with that disappointed, furrowed brow from under which you are staring at me.

I wear them with great enthusiasm any time the temperature in my environment might peak above 72 degrees. I understand the appeal in an intimate way.

But I will not accept flip-flops with toe socks when it is 32 degrees. In combination with pajama pants. At 1:30 p.m. At a jewelry store.

"I cannot be made to worry about shoes. My time is far too valuable. And pants. Ha. I chide them. Pooh-pooh on your pants, society."

Well, I have a seven-month-old. That's going to get on there from time-to-time. Oh, synonymous with pish-posh. That's my bad.

These are my souvenirs. My mental pictures of everything.

2011-12-02T00:34:00.003-06:00

Pop made it through the surgery, but he was still in full-on Darth Vader mode when we left town to head home. Even with the nerves and the dismal amount of sleep, I still managed to record a few lucid moments throughout the day.

-"Slow down, Denise. I'm not quite as anxious as you to get there," Pop said as we walked back into the day surgery prep area.

-In what universe does open heart surgery count as day surgery?

-Grandpa Harvey insists the edema on his legs is from salt consumption. Pop swears it is not. Odd way to leave things if this all went the other way.

-Ah, the first pre-operation visitors need to get past the magnetically locked door. Looks like I'll be playing doorman this morning.

-Wonder how many group prayers these prep nurses see in these rooms? Two this morning at least.

-Funny how an impromptu recitation of Psalms 23 makes everyone in a room stop their actions for a moment.

-Glad the 30 minute wait in day surgery was equal to the time it takes to walk to the critical care waiting room.

-Dang. A lot of people get up early. This waiting room already has 12 people before 7:30 a.m.

-No. I don't recognize the number either, Mom. But it looks like some extension from the hospital here. I just had to refer a guy to the main number after he mistakenly dialed the waiting room extension to ask about the state of his friend. I'll take this call too.

-"David?" Pop? "Why are you answering your Mom's phone?" You're surprised? Aren't you under anesthesia right now? How did you get a phone back there?

-First update. The waiting room hostess answers her line. Calls for the family. Mom should take this. The 30 people with us look for her. Nothing like 60 eyes watching you walk out of the bathroom to take a call.

-Childhood best friends fall away quickly, even when they officiated your wedding. But times like this adjust your definition of family: the people who show up.

-Blackened chicken fettucine alfredo. Are you kidding me? Break my leg and admit me, man. This is delicious.

-Second update. They have replaced one valve. Repaired another. Examined the third and repaired that as well.

-10 pots of coffee by 1 p.m. Not one of them good. Mind if I try? Tough crowd, this bunch.

-How do some guys go 20 years without changing their hairstyle?

-I'm telling you. There is more to hockey than the fights.

-Final operation update. Surgeon walks in. Mom walks out - of the bathroom. Again.

-Don't bury the lead, doc. You always start with "He's alive, and that's what's important." You don't end with that. The gallery is turning blue here. I guess I am the only one who saw the smile he shot at Mom when he began.

-OK, now you have to get something to eat, Mom.

-It always helps to have an inside man to gather intel. In this case. A woman. A nurse. From another department. Who almost got busted trying to guess the keypad combination for the surgery wing. He's almost sewn up.

-Moved past recovery and straight to ICU about 3 p.m. Three hurdles: bleeding out, liver congestion, getting off the vent. This physician's assistant has way better delivery.

-More praying. So much praying. Seems to be working.

-Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there. In the waiting room. We just opened our eyes after the group prayer, and our family's agent had magically appeared. My brother and I sing the jingle simultaneously without prompting.

-This drive home is worse when you just made it less than 15 hours ago. But a phone call right before arriving makes it worth it. He's awake, so his liver processed the anesthesia. No bleeding in his chest tube. He is breathing over the vent, so that will probably come off later tonight. I bet those ICU ceiling tiles were the prettiest things he's seen in a long time.

-Good. Now I won't have to find those specific songs he asked me to get for his funeral. Not for awhile.

Hear you me

2011-12-01T05:33:00.001-06:00

5:30 a.m. is too early to be crawling down the interstate in the dark. 33 degrees is too cold to just be wearing a T-shirt. 48-years-old is too young to die.

My Pop will be undergoing a high-risk heart surgery in an hour. His second in a year and a half. He and Mom are bickering slightly about where to park because we are a little tardy, but this is not a source of tension. They ride hands clasped. There's a nervousness in Mom's breathing.

A portico. My turn to find parking while they enter and check him in for the procedure. I put out a hand for a tip like a valet. There's a chuckle, but the look in Pop's eyes do not match this.

If you are a praying person, I ask for those today. If not, well wishes from those with good karma are also happily received.

Oh, oh. I want some more. Oh, oh. What are you waiting for?

2011-11-29T22:00:00.004-06:00

The poppy, upbeat pleas I hear have been resonating with me lately. At any moment this week I will break out into verse while with a client. Whether from the radio or classic books (mostly audiobooks, given the time I spend driving), the lines I would regurgitate will burst out of my throat and splatter all over the walls and ears around me.

I want to communicate solely by iPod and torn pages. Just thrust my earphones (no earbuds, however) and favorite stanzas at everyone who looks at me with puzzled gaze and let them see the tracks playing behind my eyes. Half throat cancer patient and half Bumblebee. True that I strongly disliked the Transformers, but as a fan of the toys and cartoons I follow blindly into each undertaking of their undermining. Damn you, Michael Bay.

Oh, and Thanksgiving was fun. Played football. Walked with a limp for the next four days. My cousin got married. My mom's cousin passed away suddenly. My wife went to her mom's for these last few days.

But I have to

2011-11-22T07:23:00.000-06:00

Sometimes when it's my last day of work before a five-day holiday break, I wish I woke up with a highly contagious stomach bug and called in sick. That way I would not have to interrupt my very vivid dreaming in a soft, warm bed for the harsh, cold realities of whining clients.

It's a gas gas gas

2011-11-20T09:37:00.001-06:00

Nothing like starting the brisk autumn morn with a bit of vehicle maintenance. 32 degrees. Bitter north wind. A pair of jumper cables, and no one to jump me.

He who is the cause of another becoming powerful is ruined

2011-11-17T11:20:00.001-06:00

If you are going head to head with a rival without ever meeting face to face, never leave an obvious weakness exposed for another to come along and exploit. Follow-through and thoroughness are necessary for winning the favor of a client, but leaving loose ends strewn about carelessly makes it easy for someone like me to spin their hard work laying the foundation into an easy sell for me.

I'm just trying to be a better version of me for you

2011-11-12T22:14:00.001-06:00

So I rushed from the banquet held in honor of my daughter (and other less important babies) at our church in advance of tomorrow's dedication service to catch the last two periods of the hockey game. We secured the top spot in the league last night, so I wanted to bask in the glory of our apex status against the same team we beat to secure No. 1.

I felt a little guilty as I slightly jogged from the banquet room. The festivities had ended just as the game started, so I didn't bail on my family per se. The jingle of the keys to my sister-in-law's car overpowered the fading voices of my wife, baby, sisters-in-law and stepmother. They would pile into our Toyota to get home. My brothers and dad awaited my arrival at the arena. Still, something did not feel right about this decision.

I slammed on the accelerator and cranked the radio broadcast of the game. By the time I hit the interstate - approximately six minutes into the first period - the opposing team jumped ahead by two goals. We came within one by the end, but never overcame the deficit, cementing my suspicions that I made the wrong decision. There goes the seven-game winning streak - a much more impressive feat in hockey than in football - we expected. My bad, fellas. Brought the bad karma, but I still had a blast with the boys. Sometimes the wrong decision can be fun, but it doesn't always carry over when you think back on it.

Said I'm under the gun 'round here

2011-11-11T15:26:00.001-06:00

It's funny how things you can get away with saying on a conference call during a good month can totally set off a manager during a bad month. Her current rant actually comes at a good time, because I was really thirsty. Her rhetorical questions are giving me enough time to get something to drink. And make a sandwich. And go pay my cable bill. And volunteer reading the entire "A Christmas Carol" for orphans at the library.

Why they house the orphans at the library I will never understand.

Oh, and how unteachable am I that this is how I'm spending the invaluable time this manager is taking dropping this knowledge bomb on the tiny village that is my brain?

And long after I'm gone, you'll still be humming along

2011-11-10T09:58:00.001-06:00

Never claim to be normal. Then you have the freedom to say or do something ridiculous and get away with it, because at least you'll be memorable. Like pop radio songs such as the one referenced in the title of this post, people can't get it out of their head no matter how much they want to rid themselves of it.

I became the calm center of the universe. I was the Zen master.

2011-11-10T07:10:00.000-06:00

They are finally letting me do what comes naturally: goofing off with my clients instead of talking straight business to win them over more easily.

Where you want to be

2011-11-08T11:48:00.001-06:00

If you end up not getting the day off to go to the season's only morning hockey game, listening to it broadcast on an AM station with just enough Chicano music bleeding through to provide background music almost makes it all worth it.

Count on me to remember who you are

2011-11-04T20:03:00.001-05:00

In a very short time, I went from getting called dude to dad. I wonder if other guys felt a little gut-punched the first time someone called them the perfect family man.

But I guess it's true. I'd take on hell with a half-loaded water pistol and gasoline underwear for family. Of course, I'm a terrible shot so they probably wouldn't want me on the frontlines anyway.

When the moon hits your eye

2011-11-03T13:51:00.000-05:00

How is there not a Pizza Hut car air freshener? Or is there such an animal and I have made such terrible choices in life that I am missing out on it?

We don't need no thought control

2011-11-01T11:40:00.000-05:00

It is hard to determine whether to label it a testament of character or evidence of a refusal to mature when a college classmate to whom I have not spoken in years tells me that I remain an iconoclast.

Is this really because you won't find me on Facebook? Or is it more about that bottle I tossed at the crowd control officers in Oakland last week? Y'know, just to see what would happen. Because I now realize one of those might have been an uh-oh.

When am I gonna see that pretty face again?

2011-10-31T10:38:00.001-05:00

Driving around alone most of the day has its perks.

No annoying human contact to interrupt your daydreams.

If there's a smell, there is no need to explain that it's the baby carrot that somehow fell into the center console from under the parking brake somehow and then disappeared when you removed the console to investigate.

All the music you want to which you want to listen without apology or qualification. Oh, guilty pleasures.

Yet, all of that means far less when you have no one to tell it to when you get home. I need a parrot this week. Even if he just repeats, at least I know he was listening.

Hello out there. We're on the air. It's hockey night tonight.

2011-10-28T18:41:00.001-05:00

Maybe I should be amongst those sharing solidarity with the 99 percent in Oakland. But I'll pretend each opponent body checked tonight is one of the 1 percent or one of the cops hired by them to unsuccessfully break up the protests. That counts, right?

Mr. Jones strikes up a conversation with a black-haired flamenco dancer

2011-10-27T16:10:00.002-05:00

It's sometimes odd how many people feel like sharing so much about themselves in the waiting areas in this business. Even if they aren't crazy about being flamenco dancers, they still tell you about it. On Monday I ran across some marathon runners (pun intended), and today a woman who just loves Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. These are all things I learned about them without having to ask. Random.

The thing I'm talking about is an essence, a foreign fragrance with a presence

2011-10-27T13:16:00.001-05:00

I have gone five for five on new album acquistions not worth their space on my iPod this week. It's as if some artists set out to let you down time after time after a fantastic release six years ago.

You want to believe, but faith is only so strong.

My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again

2011-10-27T12:47:00.000-05:00

I've tried to resist, but they hit me with the one-two punch of sickening nostalgia.

First, Monopoly. Then immediately followed by the limited return of the McRib. Even the bones are meat! Do you understand what I am saying? The bones. Are meat. It's an incredible leap forward for food science.

Damn you, clown.

And do back the things it did to you in return

2011-10-27T12:10:00.001-05:00

When you always take the high road, sometimes you're too far away to see what's going on around you.

That's why nabbing clients out from under another company while practicing the eavesdropping techniques you learn as a reporter comes with its own sense of satisfaction.

Running around the office like a gerbil on a wheel

2011-10-27T08:39:00.001-05:00

It doesn't matter what time the alarm goes off. I will never be that guy who gets to work early. No one should have to be that guy.

I get a kick out of you

2011-10-26T13:04:00.001-05:00

And all at once, everyone in town realized why the coffee here always tastes like feet.

Liar liar, if we're keeping score

2011-10-26T07:59:00.000-05:00

The Weather Channel is not to be trusted. Keep a critical eye out for their tricks.

High today: 68

Currently at 8 a.m.: 70

Hockey fans aren't like other fans

2011-10-25T19:51:00.001-05:00

Yes, Lily Belle. We are all stunned by the ref's call. And, no. That is not Brian Regan's dad sitting behind us. I already asked.

Kick-start my rock 'n' roll heart

2011-10-24T10:00:00.000-05:00

Today seems to be a day to just drive. Everywhere and nowhere. That has become my uncontested favorite part of this job.

Perhaps I want to drive where I want today because I know that my boss will be riding with me tomorrow, so I will have restrict my whims more. Boo.

To craft the perfect limerick. To wield unending woe.

2011-10-24T09:12:00.001-05:00

There is a secret to surviving Monday morning meetings: writing four-line poems by alternating lines with your 50-something-year-old coworker who also enjoys poking fun at everyone and everything.

Take note.

A warm body don't mean I'm alive

2011-10-21T10:47:00.001-05:00

For the last few days, the bundled kids have stood on the corner in the mornings. Their bus will arrive soon. They hope. They will be warm again.

For the last few days, I have left for work without a coat and scraped the ice off my windshield. A couple of more weeks and my internal temperature might actually drop. I might even enjoy holding the furnace we call Lily. She and I are a volcanic mixture.

Never grow up

2011-10-20T16:28:00.001-05:00

Do I have anything in my teeth? Want to look good for my six-month birthday pictures. Oh. Right. I don't have any teeth.

That'll haunt me even when you're not around

2011-10-19T19:49:00.002-05:00

*Heed this warning. The following is a tale so disturbing, it might change your opinion of humanity. It contains some graphic language, possible nudity and adult themes. Yet, it is one that must be shared so I don't have to suffer alone*

Granted, the bathroom stalls in elementary school were hellholes. Narrow. No door. 1/2 ply toilet paper. Somehow the drabness of the tile's color magnified every sound, aiding future frat presidents in the discovery of their fondness for the potty humor that would come to define them while making the shy kid with IBS shiver in shame and start homeschooling the following year.

For those classes of boys with female teachers, this scene took the shape of the classic saloon seauences of old, kitschy Western films. Some of us dealt (baseball) cards, others hooped and hollered. I hope to God no one was drinking anything in there, but there would be no way of knowing. Still others found entertainment in their own style of shootouts in which those peeing at the urinals stretching all the way down to the floor would compete by trying to back the furthest away from the porcelain while still keeping the ammo on target. The fastest would win. The slowest were wet. At least their shoes were anyway.

As you get older, the scene becomes less wild and more like a Kevin Costner Western. Subdued. Quiet. Kind of boring. You just want the time to pass and the experience to end.

The setting is typically nicer, depending on what environments you frequent for business. And business. The stalls are wider. There are doors. The toilet paper is not made out of burlap. Advancements, if such is the word, in bathroom resources have made the restroom trip a little more relaxing. Seat covers more readily available and automatic everything keep things neater and more efficient.
People. It's people that never change.

While on a business trip at a hospital today (which had recently remodeled its facilities), I jotted down an actual mental note about the remarkable feeling of privacy the new stalls seemed to create. Something about the dimensions between the abnormally tall metal walls swallowed the occupant, hiding him in an expanse where even shoes disappeared from sight.

The novelty of said space and seclusion would soon submit itself to the horrors that followed this passing fancy.

One whom I can now only assume to be a frequent flyer of this room of rest entered. Prior to that moment, I held this tiled Taj Mahal as my own, but I could understand its draw. A public water closet that does not appall can qualify as a rare find, so its visitors should expect to share its facilities.

The newcomer sauntered to his own throne room, if you will. In between the U2 and Peter Frampton songs playing overhead (first sampling of mood music I have ever heard in a hospital bathroom) I hear the familiar clicking of iPhone on-screen keys. I would hate to think someone is texting me from the crapper, so I try to extend the courtesy of never communicating from that position as well. But if this guy feels the need to reach out and touch someone with his pants around his ankles, that is his choice.

And he did. Only the someone was himself.

At first, the digital voice carrying over from the other side of the wall appeared to belong to a woman on the other end of a phone call he was making, which I initially thought could be the most ridiculous thing I have ever encountered in a public restroom.

Had I known then what I do now, my God how I would have prayed for a phone call. But nope. It was porn. Good ol' downloaded porn.

How frickin secluded did this guy think these stalls were? How the hell can someone go straight to turning Japanese in a public restroom? Did he overlook the L in that term? At the very least, why not make a concerted effort to ensure you are alone before exercising your loneliness?

Suddenly the once-admirable expanse that provided a comfortable anonymity became a merciless enemy. I had to escape. Making a noise simply to break this pervert's stride yet remaining there would not suffice.

Seconds after my first movement, the commotion ceased. My momentum did not. I reached the counter with furious speed and began my handwashing routine. Thirty seconds, and the nightmare would end.

Then the flush from his stall.

"Hell no," I thought with a panicky, internal vocal tone. "I am not about to come face-to-face with Hr. Jack N. Offenheimer."

I hurriedly reached for the automatic paper towel dispenser.

"For the love of God, dispense!"

The lock clicked. The door swung open. Offenheimer emerged.

He walked not with head hung as the situation demanded, as near as I could tell by way of peripheral vision. Nothing could make this more awkward.

Except...

"Sorry, dude," Offenheimer said with no semblance of the shame his words implied. "Didn't know anyone else was in here."

Damn you, spacious stalls. Damn you, Offenheimer.

10 things (or less) I hate about you

2011-10-18T14:15:00.000-05:00

Interesting tidbit I just learned from the check-out girl (while perfecting our impressions of The Count): the tellers in express check-out lanes are not allowed to point out the number of items a customer has regardless of the posted limit. These boundaries serve on an honor system in hopes customers will respect them. Because that works so well with speed limits.

So next time, feel free to call the family with 53 items in the express lane a collective douchebag. Don't even waste a plural on them. If not for yourself, then do it on behalf of cashiers everywhere.

You make it hard to smile because you make it hard to breathe

2011-10-18T13:28:00.000-05:00

Ever get just wiped out before you even go for a run because you know what's ahead and the idea of it makes a punch to the gut seem preferable because it doesn't last as long but then you know you're just wimping out and you can't let the fearful child inside you win so you try to shut him or her up by speaking in agonizing run-on sentences on a digital platform that serves as a good distraction from the task at hand?

Nope? Just me? OK, then. Let's roll.

I was the instigator. You were the reason why.

2011-10-18T13:13:00.002-05:00

A brickload of freelance work has been crashing down lately like I was an animated weasel bent on the destruction of Toontown. And with each article, the subject matter sees more pointed toward stirring up controversy. That's the benefit of reporting from a remote location: creating tense, hopeless situations and watching blamelessly from afar as it all erupts.

So this is what it is like to be one of the 1 percent.

This land is our land

2011-10-15T16:22:00.001-05:00

Hanging out with the 99%. Technically, not much different than the percentage of people with whom I normally associate. They just have a label now.

All dogs go to heaven

2011-10-14T12:47:00.001-05:00

We have been searching for our dvd collection of Peanuts specials from the 1960s for months. I had written it off as a lost cause, but this morning Amy found it. Hiding insidiously among the rest of our dvds. Of course. It knew that would be the last place we'd suspect.

So we will get to begin this holiday season with the adventures of a boy and his dog as the tale of the Great Pumpkin unfolds. And as much crap as I gave him, I kind of miss Desi Arnaz as I watching Snoopy's absurd antics. Granted, he only went to my mother-in-law's house, which is not as final as the title of this blog implies. But when you miss them, you miss them I guess.

Just because I'm losing doesn't mean I'm lost

2011-10-13T11:56:00.001-05:00

No matter how well I know the streets of a city or drive the same route once a week or so, there is that one intersection that will always confound me. It is farther up the road than I anticipate. It sneaks up on me. They just changed it from a stop sign to a traffic light. I forgot about the pothole near the curb in the turn that causes me to be late for a meeting because I have to recover and reattach my axle.

Do I have a metaphor for work, maybe even life, here? No matter how much you know, there will always be one more bump in the road you never see coming? Keep your eyes straight ahead? Don't post to your blog when you are trying to drive to a lunch meeting?

200 bucks to pass Go, but oh life's taking its toll

2011-10-12T09:57:00.000-05:00

In deciphering the true meaning behind the 1-in-4-wins odds promoted by this year's McDonald's Monopoly game, one must follow the asterisk (or whatever symbol they are using). One in four game pieces wins, which translates to one in four purchases basicall because each game piece has two game stamps.

Yet, they neglect to tell you that one in four items you order that are supposed to have game pieces actually come with said game pieces. God help me, though, I love to play. I'm just glad it come on the oatmeal, because though not the healthiest thing in the world it still is a better option than day to day Big Macs.

Say anything (else)

2011-10-07T12:18:00.001-05:00

A good way to shake up the day is just to answer the automated questions we get all day honestly. Or better yet, untruthfully but completely absurdly. For instance, I have used three of the following already this morning. I'll leave it to you to guess which ones.

How are you today?
Better than my mom. She got her foot caught in a bear trap this morning.

Can I help you?
Probably not, but is your daddy home?
(Alternatve: Can you help me? No. I'm inept. You look like you understand what that's like.)

Is that a new shirt/blouse?
Yes. Wait until I show you the matching ascot.

Where are you?
Oh, I've been sitting outside in my car for an hour or so because the sound of your voice is turning me on today.

Big plans for the weekend?
No, but I'd love to. I'm up for whatever you want to do, casual acquaintance. Want to to see the new Joseph Gordon-Levitt movie tomorrow afternoon? I'll pick you up at your place at 2.

Will that be all for you today?
Yes. I feel complete for the first time in life.

Did you find everything you needed today?
Nope. I'm settling. Let's not pretend this is something more.

Have you found Jesus?
Oh my gosh, no. Did he get out again? You know, I don't care how big of a rock you block him with, he is always going to manage find a way out. Well, you might as well get in here and help me. I'll check the kitchen. You start with the couch cushions.

Also, never pass up an opportunity to make a Scott Bakula reference, especially when a guy describes himself as a "man of enterprise."

We're off to neverneverland

2011-09-30T22:21:00.003-05:00

All hell can't stop us now

2011-09-30T19:02:00.001-05:00

Hockey is back in the town. And they upgraded the season ticket holders lounge to a full bar and restaurant with dedicated executive chef. It'll be a good year.

Back like you never broke

2011-09-28T10:05:00.003-05:00

Friday marks the return of hockey here (preseason at least) and the end of the hibernation season during which my enthusiasm retreats in response to the brutal emptiness of the summer heat. Even now, it refuses to fully reveal itself by stepping out from behind the wall of ennui it puts up around it so that it can't see the clock. My enthusiasm knows ignorance is the only way to keep time from dragging its feet between events hosted by good pal, excitement. Events like hockey season.
Yet news of an upgrade to the season ticket holders lounge have cracked the buttresses of this ennui, and enthusiasm has listened to this and many other reports, causing it to peek slightly at the time and day. It has promised itself to remain behind its barrier, but there's no harm in putting on its shoes so when the time comes to emerge it will be ready to come out at full velocity.

But we're probably gonna lose this one anyway. Good thing it's just the lousy preseason.

It's Dave Dave. Not Tom Tom.

2011-09-26T17:18:00.000-05:00

God forbid we should ever have to be driven around an unfamiliar city with one of the people that program these GPS navigation devices.

One leg at a time

2011-09-26T15:20:00.000-05:00

That's right. Highlight of the day (possibly the week if trends continue): new pants. Khakis that fit like jeans.

Hello, inappropriate glances from desk workers.

A penny for my thoughts? Oh, no. I'll sell them for a dollar.

2011-09-20T08:07:00.001-05:00

My brain needs a better offensive line. It scrambles way too often to get anything accomplished.

Creativity has become necessity at work lately because another team recently discovered Photoshop. The more the overlords pit us against each other the more inverse my motivation level becomes.

At this point, however, we are in a run-out-the-clock situation as the first hockey game here hits the ice next Friday. Granted it is preseason, but those games still count for the faithful. It simply represents a better time. A time for joyous whistling and, just maybe, skipping. No promises, though.

Yes you won't be shaking, won't be breaking, won't be forsaken now

2011-09-07T15:14:00.000-05:00

Spin your wheels as fast as the inertia will allow. Flap your arms and get their attention. Most of the time, it does nothing.

Then 15 minutes after you leave, suddenly they understand what you were spouting and buy into three of the ideas you gave them. No worries, though, because they will completely forget about them next time you're in there.

Faking my own suicide

2011-09-07T10:28:00.001-05:00

Morbid sounding, sure, but maybe I'll stop getting phone calls about nonsense from the office. And then right after lunch, I'll come right back to life.

I've made a mess of me

2011-09-06T10:56:00.000-05:00

Superpower: discovered. I possess the ability to magnetically draw chocolate to whatever clothing I am wearing - even when I am not the one eating chocolate.

Chocolate magnetism. It will one day save the world.

Even your emotions have an echo in so much space

2011-09-06T10:43:00.000-05:00

The last remnants of my old life will go into the shredder today. No biggie. That driver's license had expired anyway.

Check your tee shirt before you leave your house

2011-09-06T07:45:00.002-05:00

Admittedly, wearing a tank top to construct that steel dome did free up my range of motion even if at the same time the act defied my self-made rule that no man should ever wear sleeveless shirts outside of his own home. Worse yet, I allowed more than those working on the house with me to see said tank top.

I suppose elation at finishing the project and the fact that the picture was completely ridiculous clouded forced a judgement call. I struggled all night whether to remove this monstrosity (The picture. Not the dome. That sucker is staying there forever as far as I am concerned). No sleep. All fretting. In the end, however, it must remain along with my deepest apologies to its viewers.

Jai Guru Dev Om

2011-09-05T10:13:00.006-05:00

So, what camping trip would be complete without heavy construction on the future homestead on our land out here?

None. That's the answer.

They looked upon the dome that they created for the ceiling, and lo, they saw that it was good ... enough.

But when the backyard where your camping includes a serene pond where you catch your dinner, hanging that monstrous contraption with nothing but some scaffolding and a dream pales in comparison.

For spacious skies

2011-09-03T14:55:00.003-05:00

Nature and I have reached an accord. I will not enter air conditioning until Monday. And she will bring down the temperature.

Here's hoping I didn't ask during the wrong month - or at least the wrong time of the month. Eigh oh.

Don't be afraid. Keep it all inside, all inside.

2011-09-02T10:46:00.001-05:00

This company's approach to regulation borders on cowardice. And it pisses the clients off. And those who depend on clients for their living.

Wascally coworkers

2011-09-01T17:16:00.003-05:00

Even at an office where there seems to be a daily "emergency" for me to handle, I still should have suspected something was up when they called me back from the nether regions of my territory to ferry some meaningless paperwork over to an office.

I guess this was supposed to help me get there.

But it was not a complete waste of time. On my way back to the office, I was lucky enough to pay 25 cents to weigh myself in the bathroom of a gas station that offers the greasiest, most odoriferous food ever to accost my eyes or nose. Good day. Good day.

Turn your lights down low and never try to resist

2011-09-01T12:42:00.001-05:00

Sometimes no matter how hard you try, you can't find an office open during lunch time. So you just have to park under a tree and eat a bag of baby carrots. Law of nature or something.

Laced with brilliant smiles and shining eyes. Perfect posture, but you're barely scraping by

2011-09-01T12:26:00.000-05:00

I'm not saying all of my prayers are honest, but now that we have a health and fitness consultant in the family to hit up for advice it might be worth putting a little more heart behind my utterances at the dinner table.

No need to test my heart with all of this useless space

2011-09-01T10:44:00.000-05:00

The camping trip is on this weekend. Well, camping as lazy people do. We are just staying in tents on our land near my great grandfather's fishing pond. Where I learned to cast a line and the meaning of patience. Probably the first time since we lost the man who taught me to fish. The picture of the dying age of the cowboy.

We'll hike to the lake to swim. The pond has this nasty habit of turning people abnormal colors. The girls will probably drive back to the city to sleep. It's not a backpacking adventure or anything, but it's a good "too f*#%ing hot" alternative.

She smiled in a big way. The way a girl like that smiles.

2011-08-31T14:59:00.000-05:00

No concerns right now about Lily Belle being autistic because she engages well with other people, her doctor said at her regular check-up.

Too well, I'd say. She was acting a bit familiar with this chimp-faced little boy in front of us at the baseball game. Where does that come from, being a flirt? I wish she was autistic.

Some boys don't listen at all. They lack inhibitions, no walls.

2011-08-31T09:36:00.000-05:00

Not sure I mind starting every day in the city. And not having to hear about hurricanes all the time.

Actually, I prefer to go through the full day without having to pay attention to those around me. If my job didn't consist of talking all the time, I could just listen to my iPod all day. More than I already do.

I just need to find a way to convert my conversations into song. Then life would be a musical. Oh. But I'd have to learn to dance. Not sure it's worth that. Weak ankles.

OK. Fine. I dance in my head all day. Are you happy now?

Talking about changing. Guess what? I'm the same man.

2011-08-30T19:41:00.000-05:00

On this type of day, all a sane person wants is to drain out of pants and pour into some shorts.

400

2011-08-30T16:52:00.001-05:00

Maybe we're the same, but either way I can't breathe

2011-08-30T14:01:00.000-05:00

How do you wake up with the inside part of your face under attack out of nowhere? I don't have allergy problems. My sinuses never bother me. And is it coincidence that two out of the seven people in my office are at home with the same complaint today? Probably not. And it is not even that bad. It's not like being bruised or bleeding. That sucks. This is just a result of the toxic mold in the office.

In any case, my dad is convinced now that I will not survive the zombie apocalypse. Apparently succumbing to this head leakage is an indication of the lack of immunity necessary to repel the zombification virus.

I was born to tell you I love you. And I am torn to do what I have to.

2011-08-29T17:55:00.001-05:00

Yes. You are correct. I would rather be at home with all of those who eagerly await my return. But my computer and TV will have to wait with pursed lips to see my smile until I finish my errand in Horsefly Village. But in months like this, you take hold of every opportunity that comes over the fax at 5 p.m.

I've got enough problems without creating more

2011-08-29T16:14:00.000-05:00

Ha. Time management. Like a person can tell man's worst invention who is in charge. It's become a monster. Uncontrollable. An entity created with the intention to wield great power with good intentions until it became a malevolent dictator under the guise of being there to help us. Like Skynet.

We should get jerseys, because we make a good team

2011-08-29T16:03:00.000-05:00

No one told me the right way to go about this. In fact, we seem to wing it most of the time. And it worked.

Until this month.

The manager broke down into maniacal laughter today because she realized it all of our best strategies simply unraveled this weekend. We'll just have to do better next month. Or maybe we'll just get fired and get to do what we want for awhile.

I am the rain king

2011-08-28T21:33:00.002-05:00

Signs your marriage is working:

Amy: (Laughs as she passes me in the hall and sees the top of my shirt soaked) Shower spray you when you were getting Lily's bath ready?

Me: Yeah.

Amy: I heard you cuss it out. And you know what? I saw that little thing on the faucet pulled up. But you were the last one in there, and you've done that before and it's gotten me. So I thought, "He needs a dose of his own medicine." So I didn't say anything.

Me: Good one. But just so you know, the candy store is now closed for the night.

Amy: I'll live.

Out there in the shadow of the modern machine

2011-08-27T17:02:00.002-05:00

The beauty of sleeping for 12 hours in one night lies within the concept. Wow, that sounds restful. Peaceful. Worthy of envy. Who has that kind of time anymore?
For an active imagination, a lot of ugliness accompanies the action of sleeping that long. The amount of dreaming - with its vivid qualities bordering on near-tangibility - plays tricks on a weak mind. The time spent subject to the whims of the subconscious makes the dream hard to shake in reality. Draws a blurry line between factual and fictional experience. I don't know which I prefer upon first examination.
I guess that's why they have pills for this crap. But I think I'd also like to DVR my brain. At least we'd have something entertaining to watch when we got high.

No one should terrify their neighborhood

2011-08-26T21:50:00.001-05:00

Scratch that. No beer or video games. Just a marathon of Heathcliff cartoons. Merci, netflix on wii.

The way your smile just beams. The way you sing off key. They can't take that away from me.

2011-08-26T17:16:00.001-05:00

And they slide in safe just under the glove. No mas work on Saturdays. Today was the last day we had to end the madness with offerings to the overlords. And the fragrance of our pittance wafted to the heights, opening a shower of grace that will allow me to stay up until 4 a.m. tonight drinking and playing violent video games. You know, like a good dad.

If you are among the very young

2011-08-25T22:49:00.001-05:00

Admittedly, I wrongly categorized myself as a man in that last post. That was clearly a misnomer, I realized, as I stood sipping Hawaiian Punch through a crazy straw wondering who is more of a child. Me or my four-month-old?

It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday

2011-08-25T11:16:00.001-05:00

Hello again, Boyz II Men. Sure, your moniker alone should reaffirm my decision to dig out a copy of Cooleyhighharmony even though I'm not 12. Or a chick. But this man simply doesn't feel the need to justify listening to this album like the boy did.

Conspiracy theory

2011-08-23T13:07:00.000-05:00

Me: Yeah, they're flying us into Love Field instead of DFW.

Buddy of mine: That's cool. Are you getting a rental car from there?

Me: Yeah. I requested a convertible. We'll see if they come through on that.

Buddy: Just watch out. Landing at Love Field and taking a convertible from there didn't work out well for JFK.

Me: Good point. Chevy Aveo it is.

When a nightmare finally does unfold, perspective is a lovely hand to hold

2011-08-22T14:33:00.000-05:00

I need to put down something this clever. Or just put this down altogether.

Didn't I blow your mind this time?

2011-08-22T13:55:00.001-05:00

My accounts drop their jaws when I show up with a pre-filled order begging for their signature before they even have had a chance to ask me. I tell most that I'm psychic. The others know I am REALLY in tight with their office staff. The magic of sugary treats.

Promise not to promise anymore

2011-08-22T13:46:00.000-05:00

"I'll think about it," when spoken by a referral source means they will never think about your proposal again. That's why I am asking for commitments from my accounts this week. I've seen two sales for which I was fighting slide into someone else's pocket this week because the source was not thinking. And not just about me. In general.

Even when I was flat broke, you made me feel like a million bucks

2011-08-19T08:09:00.001-05:00

Always a nice surprise to find you earned a bonus you didn't realize you earned. Cha-ching.

Even if the words are probably gonna hurt, I'd rather have the truth than something insincere

2011-08-17T16:03:00.001-05:00

What do you say to an office staff member who costs you a sale and rapport with a big account in less than 10 minutes on the morning she finds out her mother-in-law received a cancer diagnosis with a bad prognosis?

If your answer was "nothing," you would be correct. My decision, however, was not.

This week the trend

2011-08-16T15:13:00.000-05:00

The universe makes sense when I rediscover that one album that exactly fits with my minute-to-minute experience.

After all of my alibis desert me

2011-08-16T12:08:00.001-05:00

Phone conversation in the office this morning:

District manager: Is Ashley (the office manager) there this morning?

Customer service rep: Let me check (puts DM on hold) Where did Ashley go?

Other CSR: She left to go to get some breakfast.

CSR: (takes DM off hold) She's out on sales calls with David.

DM: Oh, ok. What was the deal with that snake in the office?

CSR: Oh yeah. David found it under his desk this morning.

DM: How long was it?

CSR: I don't know. (calls out across the office) David, how long was that snake?

Me: About a foot. And good job hanging Ashley out to dry.

Stop right there. That's exactly where I lost it. See that line? Well, I never should have crossed it

2011-08-15T16:22:00.001-05:00

Nothing burns in your stomach like the shame telling a semi-dirty joke to a bunch of clients you later learn comprises half of the residents at the nearby monastery.
Plain clothes monks? Are you $#!%%!ng me? Why are they undercover? To avoid detection by the devil? Pretty sure, "thou shalt not wear disguises" is the 11th commandment or something. That's why my mommy told me we don't celebrate Halloween. Oh, right. That's not common.

The end will justify the pain it took to get us there

2011-08-15T15:10:00.001-05:00

10 minutes to get a referral. Three months to get the paperwork finished. That's starting to become the norm it seems.

What hoop? Oh, that one way up there. I'm going to need a trampoline or a plane or something. No? All right.

Have I won Monopoly to forfeit my soul?

2011-08-12T20:12:00.004-05:00

Economic meltdown? East Africa hunger crisis? London riots?

Naaaaaahhhhhh. This is the $#!% we need to know, and we need to know NOW.

How are you spending your Friday nights, Chris Morris? Yeesh.

Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down

2011-08-11T16:08:00.000-05:00

I am getting phone calls from people with doctorate degrees asking me basic questions about their chosen profession. Wow. Good to see all that money they spent on a fancy education is paying off. Well done. So now I have to do my job and yours. Yeah, that's feasible on a long-term scale.

Today's forecast calls for...

2011-08-11T11:15:00.002-05:00

...Apocalypse.

We're gonna win that blue ribbon

2011-08-10T16:21:00.001-05:00

I love it when a plan disintegrates. Because instead of throwing a bachelor party in one city, I now get to assemble two sordid soirees on opposite sides of the country for the same groom. If all goes well, he won't even be able to look his gal in the eyes come May. Bahzing.

Do you love me enough to let me go?

2011-08-09T16:47:00.000-05:00

Why is it the clients with the really nice houses or offices never keep you for a conversation like they're a child clutching your leg as you drag them through the kitchen? It's always the sweaty, fat guy who is a walking bouquet of the cumulative stench created by 30 years of unfiltered cigarette smoke. That is the guy who can't keep his yap shut.

But I have to admit. That is a sweet ass '74 Nomad.

You're on fire when he's near you ... burning at these mysteries

2011-08-09T11:03:00.001-05:00

Oh sure. Hardy har, Jack Black. It's easy to say you and your class of impossibly talented musichildren are going to get out there and melt some faces because you've never seen it happen. You've never been here at this time of year. You've never been walking into the grocery store at the precise moment a young woman's frighteningly wrinkled face skin succumbs to the sun's blaze and begins sluffing off a la Raiders of the Lost Ark. It's terrifying.

Granted, she could have simply been an EXTREMELY old woman or a fiftysomething with a long history of meth use. Either way, irksome. She should not have been out at this time. No one should.