LONGWALKABOUT

I was a painter.  Not a painter who created masterpieces.  A housepainter.  It was one of my college jobs.  The guy I worked for was one of the nicest bosses you could ever have.  My schedule was flexible, and let’s be honest, it’s not terribly hard work.  The worst part is the cleanup.

It was my second year at the school, and since I was on the baseball team, I had gotten to know some of the people in the athletic department.  They had told me that there was a job available in the gymnasium.  To me, this sounded a lot better than painting for another year.  So, I made up my mind to take the gym job.  I just had to tell my boss in the painting department that I was quitting.  Or did I.  I am  non-confrontational to a fault.  If everyone on earth was like me, we would have no world wars.  We would probably all go out of our way to avoid each other.  Also, the only food to exist would be Mexican.  Anyway, I decided to just not put myself on the schedule at the paint department.  In short, I never told anyone I was quitting.

The first week or so at the gym went pretty well.  Then they told me that I was going to be put on a new project.  Painting the racquetball courts.  Great, more painting.  I was sent over to the old racquetball courts, and guess who was there.  Yes, my old boss, who didn’t know that he was my old boss.  He thought that he was my current boss, and that he was there to meet an athletic department employee who he was going to teach to paint.  So ensued one of the more awkward conversations I have ever had.  It involved me explaining that I had more or less quit, and then him telling me what to do at my new job.

I spent a lot of time in those courts, listening to the radio, climbing the scaffolding with a bucket of paint and a roller.  It was probably cosmic justice that I quit a painting job in the worst possible way, only to move on to another painting job.  Me and my old boss ended up being fine.  I was lucky.  Like I said, he was a really good dude.

I am still not sure how this happened.  When my wife and I were in college, we got roped into being counselors for a weekend youth retreat.  It went like this.

Staff:  “Hey, do you guys want to go up to the camp for the weekend?”

Us:  “I don’t know, will there be free food?”  (which is still a main criteria for me)

Staff:  “Yeah, there is a big youth get together.”

Us:  “OK”

Then when we got there.

Staff:  “Oh, by the way, pick one of these cabins full of smelly teenagers.  You’re in charge of them for several days.”

Us:  “Huh???  There had better be free food.”

I was not happy.  The second night that we were there, we went to the cafeteria for dinner, and, if I remember correctly, I was not a pleasure to be around.  I grumbled through the meal and when we were done, I grabbed our trays and tossed the leftovers into the trash.

At this time in her life, my adorable future wife had a retainer.  When she ate, she would take it out and put it in a napkin next to her plate.  Now you may get where this is going.  When I threw out the trash that was on those trays, I also threw out her retainer.  She was already not happy with me for being grumpy.  Now she was really not happy with me.  By the time we realized what had happened, they had already changed the bags in the trash cans and thrown the full bags in a pile with a bunch of other full bags (it was like the opening scenes of Wall-E).  We did the only thing we could do.  We dove into those bags and started sorting.  Dental stuff is expensive.  After about half an hour and several full bags of trash, we still hadn’t found anything.  I was getting desperate, because this was my fault.  We prayed.  Not a normal, “Hey God, it would be nice if you could help us find this thing.”  No, we we said, “God, please help us find this thing within the next ten minutes.”  The very next bag that we looked in, there it was.  We gave it a bleach bath and that thing was good as almost new.

The last night of that youth retreat, it snowed.  There was a big snowball fight in the common area of the camp.  The one thing I remember about that snowball fight was hitting a girl square in the face by accident, and then trying to blend in quickly with everyone else so she wouldn’t figure out who threw it.

The next day we went home.  I never trusted the staff again.

LINKS

• It looks like our friends north of the demilitarized zone have found the cures for MERS, ebola, and AIDS.
• The Travel Channel’s list of the top ten Caribbean beaches.  I’ve only been to two.  Time to get cracking.
• The Simpsons predicted the Cardinals scandal years ago.  Here is the proof.
• We took the kids to Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty.  (One item off of this summer’s attainable bucket list.)  This was my first time to Ellis Island, and it was cool to stand somewhere that was part of the “largest mass human migration in the history of the world.”

• When someone says something like.  “People are just going to have to accept me for who I am.”  Or.  “I’m just keeping it real.”  What they really mean is.  “I’m going to act exactly how I feel like acting, with no regard for other people.”  Example.  “Those are some ugly shoes.  Just keeping it real.”  No.  You aren’t keeping it real.  You are keeping it adolescent.
• Every day I used to wake up and feel just like Phineas and Ferb.  Yeah, today is going to be a great day.  I’m going to accomplish something awesome.  My kids have finally beaten me down.  Now I wake up and say, “What am I going to do today? I’ll tell you what.  I’m going to take care of breakfast, lunch and dinner.  I’m going to be the referee in at least 12 kid fights.  I’m going to avoid any trips to the emergency room.  I’m going to use an hour of my life making sure the boys clean their room.  I’m going to try to do one thing for myself, and get interrupted about 16 times.  At the end of the day I’m going to sit there and realize that they’re still my favorite people.”
• Mosquitoes are nature’s way of making the outdoors less crowded for me.  Thanks nature.
• Since it’s now cool to identify as whatever you feel like you should be.  I would like to make it known that I identify as a lottery winner.  I’ve always felt like I should be one.  I am a lottery winner born into a middle class body.
• Last night the kids went to bed at a decent time.  The Pirates game was over early.  I thought, “I’m going to bed early tonight.”  And……. then I stayed up till Jimmy Fallon was over.
• I don’t know if any of you have ever seen this meme.  —-   “Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.  Except for bears, bears will kill you.”  Think about that for a minute and realize that it makes absolutely no sense.
• I already mentioned Phineas and Ferb in this post, but I just wanted to say how bummed I was that the show came to an end this weekend.  The simple fact that Dora the Explorer is still on, and they aren’t, proves that this is a cruel, cruel world.
• The next time that something gets you down, or you are just frustrated.  Remember that there are seven,,,,,,count them,,,,,,seven Fast and Furious movies.  Life is absurd, and it’s all small stuff.

 

I was recently looking through some pictures from last summer.  There is one that I keep coming back to.  It is of my two boys standing in their great grandparent’s backyard in Puerto Rico.  It had just started to rain, and the boys were standing under a banana leaf shelter that my oldest son had made.  He had the biggest smile on his face.  That picture defines last summer for me.  It made me think of other defining summer moments.

• When I was in high school.  I spent the summer between my junior and senior years with my best friend and his grandmother.  My dad was doing schoolwork in Michigan, and the rest of our family was with him.  I stayed behind so I could work.  My buddy had this above ground pool.  The pool guy came out to shock it five times that summer, but he never got rid of this swampy green color.  You couldn’t see six inches into that pool.  We didn’t care.  We swam in it anyway.  The picture in my mind that sums up that whole summer, is me and my buddy walking in circles, making whirlpools in that dark green water while we listened to the heavy metal hour on the local college radio station.
• The summer before my youngest son turned two, we took my parents along with us on our yearly trip to Puerto Rico.  My little guy was not pleased with the heat and humidity.  He wasn’t a big talker when he was tiny.  The whole time we were there, he made faces to let us know how he felt about the weather.  We set the camera up with a timer to get a good group photo.  It came out great. Pretty much everyone was smiling and no one had their eyes closed.  My youngest, though, he just looked disgusted.  He was holding onto his little blanket with a look that said “it’s freaking hot, take me home.”
• Shortly after we got married, my wife and I had the opportunity to visit with some friends of ours who lived in Barbados.  It was the first time I had ever been to the islands.  I remember going out for breakfast the first morning we were there.  The waitress brought out orange juice for us and my wife’s friend, who we were traveling with, said, “This is the best orange juice I have ever had.”  The waitress just looked at her and said, “It’s Tang.”  That trip was the start of my Caribbean addiction.  I have a picture of my wife standing against a wall wearing pink shorts and a black top, with a flower in her hair, looking cute as can be.  It’s an all time favorite, and defines that summer.

LINKS

• It was a good week for movie trailers.  New James Bond trailer.  New Mockingjay trailer.
• Some guys were making a snowboarding video in Russia and they caught this rabbit surviving an avalanche on film.
• Macgyver was one of my childhood heroes, mullet and all.  Here is a website devoted to the man, the myth, the legend.
• We are well into baseball season now.  Here are some videos of players and managers having complete meltdowns during games.  My personal favorite is Lloyd McClendon stealing first base.

 

 

 

My birthday is coming up. A lot of times, when people ask how old I am, I actually have to stop and think about it. I figure I don’t need to worry about keeping track. By the time I’m old enough for social security there won’t be any left anyway. As people get older, they tend to lose their capacity to be amazed by things, their appreciation of nature, and their ability have fun in general. In short, they lose their inner child. If this happens to you, well, you’re pretty much a goner. I’m not saying that the death of your inner child precedes your actual death, but you might want to go casket shopping just in case.

Five signs you’re losing touch with your inner child.

1. You aren’t amazed anymore when you are onboard a plane that is taking off.  The average 737 has a maximum takeoff weight of around 75 tons.  75 tons.  It takes less than a mile to get those 75 tons of people, metal, luggage, bad airline food, and fuel off the ground.  That’s pretty cool.  I usually shove whichever of my sons I am sitting next to out of the way and plaster my face to the filthy airplane window so I can watch the ground recede.  When we have reached sufficient altitude, I lean back in my seat and think, “what kind of black magic is this?”
2. Baby animals don’t make you smile.  I mean,,, c’mon.  They’re baby animals.
3. Videos of people falling down can’t bring an end to your bad mood.  I love watching people fall.  Whether they are slipping on ice, falling off ladders, riding skateboards, or jumping on trampolines, people are funny when they fall.  America’s Funniest Home Videos has been on the air for twenty five years, mostly because videos of people falling down are funny.
4. You don’t enjoy fireflies on a summer night.  I love early summer nights.  My backyard is dark and after sunset, I like to sit out there and watch thousands of fireflies light up the trees.  If you pay attention, nature will always remind you of how small you are.  Also, you should pay attention to nature simply because it is constantly trying to kill you.
5. The only thing that you can imagine anymore, is what you’re going to eat for dinner.  I’m always amazed by my kids imagination.  My oldest son loves to write stories and make his own comic books.  It can be hard to hold on to that level of imagination.  The best way to do it is by reading.  Reading something other than restaurant menus. In the past I’ve found that the best time to exercise your imagination is during college level algebra classes.  As an adult, staff meetings are a great time to get in a little daydreaming.

I learned two things when I accompanied my wife on a business trip to France.  1- The French reputation for being rude is exaggerated.  2- French dudes dig me.

I didn’t have any problems with people in France.  The one group that did kind of hassle us were the gypsies.  I’ve seen gypsies in a lot of movies, and they always come off as charming vagabonds.  In real life, I have yet to meet one of those gypsies.  The ones that I have met get extremely upset when I refuse to donate money for a relative’s “cancer treatment”, or when I tell them I don’t speak english.  I have two travel tips for France.  1.  Make an effort when choosing your wardrobe.  When you pack your bags and the moment comes when you have to pick between a nice button down shirt, and that t-shirt that says “Trust Me, I’m a Doctor”, pick the button down.  2.  Make a small effort to learn some general French phrases.  It will score you points.

When we arrived in France, I was immediately pulled out of the security line by a nice French gentleman.  He proceeded to do an extended pat down search while my wife stood on the other side of the partition and laughed at me.  She knows me better than anyone.  Therefore, she knew that this violated all of my personal space rules.  I’m not gonna say that the pat down was thorough.  I’ll just say that if I was wearing brail pants, he was memorizing every word.

We visited a lot of bakeries on that trip.  My wife loves bakeries (correction patisseries).  At one of these bread stops, I decided to wait for her by the door.  When we left with our purchases, she was laughing at me again.  “Did you feel any eyes on you?” she said.  I am fairly oblivious.  She went on to tell me that while she was waiting in line, she noticed a guy standing by the window.  He was giving someone an intense look over.  His eyes went down and up and down and up again.  My wife was curious who was attracting so much attention.  She stepped sideways and looked past the man.  There I was, standing by the door looking oblivious, and apparently attractive.  Ok, so I only have two examples, and the first guy may have just been doing his job, but who doesn’t need a little ego boost once in a while.

LINKS

• Some donut facts for National Donut Day.
• Story about a teenager who claimed to be an FBI agent and stole a car from a dealership.  That kid’s going places.
• A Berkely biologist says that Puerto Rican women are close to the perfect human being.  My wife will vouch for this.
• Since it’s NBA Finals time, here are basketball players reading mean tweets about themselves.

I hope that when I die, no one will choose to lament my passing on the rear window of their car.  I understand that people will be devastated when I leave this world, (Rightfully so.  I’m not going to be too happy about it either.)  but please refrain from putting up a tribute on the back of your 2001 Toyota Tercel.  Nothing says, “I want to immortalize this person’s memory”, like putting a sticker on an automobile that more than likely will be going into the crusher within ten years.  “Joe Schmo, Forever in our hearts, and on the back of our Hyundai, until we trade it in.”  If you feel that you must do this for me, put that decal on the back of a Rolls Royce.  If you can’t afford one, put it on someone else’s.

I have decided that I will never click on another internet link that tries to draw me in like this.  “A family uncovered this secret cave on their property.  YOU WON’T BELIEVE what was inside.”  Chances are, I will believe it.  And you know what, it’s probably gonna be a let down.  Unless it was Sasquatch.  That wouldn’t be a let down.  It wouldn’t be a great surprise, because I know they’re real, but it would definitely not be a letdown.

Another thought on stuff people put on their cars.  Political bumper stickers.  Is there a less reliable group of people than politicians?  One day it’s like, yay, he stands for what I stand for.  The next day it’s like, oh no, he stole campaign contributions, went to a brothel, got drunk, drove his car off of a bridge, and let the passenger drown.  Also, when you go and try to sell your car, you are kind of alienating half of your would be buyers.  Imagine being that guy in 1946 Germany, trying to sell his 13 year old Mercedes with the “Hitler / Himmler 34” sticker on the back bumper.

Sammy Hagar Van Halen was far superior to David Lee Roth Van Halen.

When someone says something like this to me, “Yeah man, this guy’s a great technical musician, he’s not really well known,,, he’s like, a real musician’s musician, man.”  What I hear is, “Yeah dude, he makes music no one else wants to hear.”

When my kids don’t love a movie from my childhood as much as I do, I am really tempted to criticize the cartoons that they watch.  Phineas and Ferb is awesome, though, so,,,, I’ve got nothin.

 

My youngest son just graduated from kindergarten. I have decided to let him enjoy this for a few days until I tell him how many more years he will be in school.  On the bright side, I will tell him that the kindergarten diploma he just got is worth as much as approximately 50% of the bachelor’s degrees you can get.

Now that the school year is over, I would like to take a moment to review some random highlights.

• The best thing that happened over the year was my little dude learning to read. He now reads better than half of the adults I know. That’s either really impressive for my five year old, or it doesn’t say much for my acquaintances. It’s probably a little of both.
• Last week, we narrowly avoided him peeing on Thomas Edison’s house. He disappeared around the corner, and when I followed, I found him getting ready to let loose on a National Landmark. I choose to look at this in a positive light. In the spirit of innovation, he was inventing a new use for the East wall of Glenmont.
• He has been taking swimming lessons since January. Once he figures out how to use his arms and legs at the same time, he’ll be pretty fast. Right now, his technique is to kick like crazy, and use his arms when he remembers. I do recommend not being the water behind him. He kicks indiscriminately.
• His teacher sent home a packet of things that he had worked on during the year.   I learned some things from this packet. He lists his favorite color as white. White. That made me laugh. White is less a color than it is just the absence of color. He loves chicken burritos, recess, and wants to be a scientist like mommy, so that he can do “icsparamitns.” (experiments) He does get around to mentioning daddy. Here is the quote. “My dad cleans the car.” Thanks for that. To be fair, he did also day that he wants to fly to New York in a plane with me. Both my kids love New York for some reason.
• He is has always been an intense child. Whatever he is feeling at any certain time, he is feeling it 100%. If he’s happy, he’s 100% happy. If he’s sad, he’s 100% sad. If he’s angry,,,, oh, it’s probably around 110%. I feel that we have experienced growth in this area during the year. He used to stand at the top of the steps with his little fists clenched and think of the most hurtful thing he could say. It’s been a while since he’s done that, though. I’d have to say it’s been six months since he’s yelled something like, “I hate your life.” My automatic response was to giggle. That might not have been helpful.

Now if I can just get him to eat some vegetables

LINKS

• Article about a couple who bought a Cambodian island for fifteen thousand dollars.  Because life doesn’t have to follow a script.
• On May 29, 1953, Edmund Hillary and Sherpa Tenzing Norgay, became the first people to summit Mt. Everest.
• Apparently the new X-files script was pretty good.
• My favorite links this week.  Memorial day weekend brought out the food fights this year.  There was a fight over a waffle maker in Michigan.  Also, someone got stabbed over the last rib at a picnic in Indiana.

There are like three rules to caving.  Take two lights in.  Wear a helmet.  Leave a note on your car dashboard with the time that you entered the cave, and the time you expect to be out of the cave.  That’s kinda it.  Of course there are common sense rules.  Don’t get stuck.  Look before you step.  Don’t pet the bats.  If you have to verbalize these rules to anyone your group, maybe you should think twice about taking them along.

One summer I convinced two of my friends to come with me to West Virginia for a long weekend of caving and whitewater rafting.  After driving almost all night and sleep-rolling through only one red light, we arrived at Bowden cave, near the city of Elkins.  We had our lights, we had our helmets (really just replica plastic baseball helmets), and our note to put on the dashboard of my trusty 88 Honda Accord.  Into the cave we went.  This particular cave has miles of passageways.  I’m not really sure if it has ever been fully mapped.  I had been there several times before, but we had never gone more than a quarter mile in.  Together we explored the parts of the cave that I was familiar with.  We got wet and muddy, and were having a thoroughly good time.  A good enough time, that we decided to explore a side passage.  The passage was about three feet wide and five feet tall, with a stream running through it.  We barreled right in.

Here is where I pause to explain why goofy things happen to guys.  We are simple.  So, when we are having fun, we think, “What could make this more funner?”  Easy answer, “More of what we are having fun doing”, usually on a bigger scale.  The problem with this way of thinking is that more is not always better.

We were having fun, so exploring new territory should be what?,,,,,, that’s right, more funner.  We made it all the way to the end of the narrow passageway.  There the cave opened back up.  Quick calculation.  Were we still having fun?  YES. What would make it more funner?  Keep going!  We kept going.  Now, we had entered the cave with six flashlights.  Two of them were pretty much dead.  Twenty minutes later we were down to three.  Time to turn around.  We had to find the entrance to the narrow passage so we could get back to the mouth of the cave.  The problem with this was that one area of rocks and mud is pretty hard to differentiate from another area of rocks and mud.  There we were, three stooges wandering around, looking for the way back to daylight.  I don’t know how many of you have been in a cave and turned off your light, but total blackness is intimidating.  I was starting to get worried.  When we were down to two good lights, our guardian angels decided to stop toying with us.  We quite literally stumbled upon the opening.  About half a mile later the sun welcomed us back into an early fall afternoon.

Bowden cave has since had a been closed, due to cave in.  I’m not sure if it will be reopened, or maybe parts of it are open.  I don’t know.  I would like to get those guys back together though.  Maybe we could get further this time.  That would be more funner.

A list of some more people that can make your day unpleasant.

• The guy who insists you address him as Dr.  You know how it goes.  You say, “Hi Mr. Smith.” Then he interrupts you and says something like.  “I’m sorry, but it’s actually Dr. Smith.  I worked very hard for that title.”  Look, that’s fantastic, and I’m happy that you’re proud of yourself.  I worked hard to be able to buy my house, but I don’t make you address me as “Marc, owner of the gray house on Maple St.”
• People who park in the middle of nowhere in the parking lot, just so their car won’t get dinged.  They often are found in the company of the type of people who put traffic cones in their driveway entrance to ward off u-turners.  Give them the wide berth they are looking for – it’s better for everyone.
• People who don’t like the original Star Wars.
• Any scholar that says something like, “Well, you wouldn’t understand” or uses a term like “the masses.”  These are code words.  What they really mean is “My intellect is far superior to yours, you poor, poor simpleton.”  The best response to this is, “Oh, I understand perfectly.”  Then wink and walk away.
• People who like clowns.  Seriously.  They could be dangerous.
• People who don’t tip well.  Going out to dinner with bad tippers can be embarrassing or just plain expensive.  You either end up looking like a cheapskate, or you end up tossing in extra cash to make up the difference.  If for some reason, I end up going out with someone who I already know is a cheapskate, I have a plan.  As soon as the waiter comes with our food, I am going to lean over and spit right in his/hers.  Then I will turn to the waiter and say, “He’s a really bad tipper.  You were probably going to do that to our dessert later and I didn’t want you to get in trouble.  Also, I changed my mind, I think I will have the peach ice tea.”
• People who have no sense of humor about themselves.  Unless you enjoy teasing them and looking at the icy stare you get in return.  That can be fun for a while.  But seriously, if you do something embarrassing it is your civic duty to laugh first so that others can follow.

Everyone have a great Holiday weekend.

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LINKS

• My favorite author.
• Cool pictures of World War II Paris mixed with modern day Paris.
• Awesome submissions for the National Geographic Traveler photo contest.
• And last, but certainly not least.  This week, a sweet sixteen party in Pennsylvania got showered with poop from an airplane.