A New Place to Wait

Not a bad photo for a cell phone, eh? It's called Apple Pie. Hot apple cider with caramel syrup and cinnamon. I got it at the coffee shop down the hill called Bongo Java. It's your typical college neighborhood cafe. The patrons are early to mid 20's. The music playing is from bands and musicians most people have never heard of. Those bands and musicians who gather followings through word of mouth, cafe concerts and iTunes. I think it's part of the whole package of being a college neighborhood cafe patron. It's a rule in an instructional book-probably titled "College Cafe Patronage for Dummies".

Rule 1: Be different and nonconforming, less mainstream. This goes for clothing, hair, and taste in music.

Rule 2 is probably something like: "If you're going to have a laptop it must be made by Apple.

Such a patron would find it serendipitous if he/she stepped into the back room and find the book on the shelf titled Macs for Dummies. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying Mac users are dummies. However, the book seems to accept that there are some- indeed the success of the book depends on the existence of dummies who own Macs. As does all the "____ for Dummies" collection. There's also a Macintosh Bible -for those who seek spiritual guidance?
"Thou shalt not Control+Alt+Delete"?

Topics of discussion at Bongo Java are mostly centered around college classes, term papers, professors, and the occasional punk bohemian gossip about new world orders, The Man, UFO's,
and Star Wars....you know-those old chesnuts. But no one is talking about fishing. Back home coffee shops are very different. Patrons are usually of retirement age. They're up early at 5 am and huddled around one or two tables. They'll look at you when you walk in-trying to figure out whose kid you are. No iPods, no laptops, no apple ciders with heaping whipped cream. Just plain black coffee and creamer and sugar. They talk about fishing. What's biting, where they're biting, what bait is best, and the weather. The small town coffee shop partons aren't in any hurry. They're patient. Patience learned from fishing. You go out, throw out your line, and you wait to get lucky. That's what fishing is, patiently waiting to get lucky-and enjoying it.

For the Record...

Speaking of ample breasts, I'd like to officially announce that I am NOT one of the ever growing number of possible "baby daddy" candidates in the Anna Nicole Smith saga.

Happy Traditional Gift Giving of the Amorous Nature Day!

Snow Day

Finally the weatherman got it right. I woke up this morning to the pleasant sight of snow. I got out and took a little walk around the neighborhood and took a few photos before the snow had a chance to disappear.

The Bernard Ave house. If you look closely you'll notice it seems to be leaning just a bit to the right....just like the photographer.(haha).

As I was walking across the Belmont campus yesterday I noticed a group of buttercups that obviously didn't get the memo about the forecast. Today they pay the price for being so foolish and impatient. Many things in nature will take advantage of any opportunity to live and grow and our mild winter certainly teased these early bloomers out...much earlier than normal. DAMN us Humans for creating this Global Warming and El Nino! Thanks to us these poor blooms will never survive!! Oh woe is meeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!*sobs*

Another example of Mother Nature surviving wherever she can. Just a small crack in this stone wall is enough room for this little weed to take hold and survuve. Facing the southeast, it gets a good bit of sunlight this time of year.

I was able to walk right up underneath this mockingbird. I wondered why it would let me get so close and not be too frightened.

Then I saw these. To us humans they could be poisonous but to the mockingbird they're the easiest meal to find. And because it's so easy to find these holly berries the mocking bird has to defend his territory from robins and cedar waxwings. So no wonder he didn't move when I walked up. Always on guard.

This is one of the buildings on the Belmont University campus. Even with the yellow tape and orange & white barrels it looked nice.

I drove over to the Parthenon to snap this picture.

And finally, my car. This could be the last time this winter to see it covered in snow. When I was growing up in the early to mid 80's we used to get frequent "heavy" snows. Enough to build snow forts in the drifts. Enough to sled down the big hills. Enough to tie some rope to our bikes and pull a friend behind us on a sheet of fiberglass mobile home underpinning.
As adults, many of us complain about having to drive on the slick roads. We complain about how poorly our fellow citizens drive. I complain about having to be an adult and not having the time or opportunity to enjoy this rare treat.....Curse you Americans for being the main contributors to global warming!!

Jim Gaffigan

I came across some nature videos narrated and commented by Jim Gaffigan. I thought I'd share a couple I thought were the funniest. I laughed myself to tears watching these.
Our Massive Planet (monkeys)

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Our Massive Planet - the wonderful world of whales

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All Evil Things....

Boy, the way Gentle Giant played. High Scores that Chris put on the arcade.

Guys like us, we had it made. Those were the days.

Didn't need no welfare state. Everybody pulled his weight.

Gee, old table 7 was great. Those were the days.

And you know who you were then. Girls were Gilmore and men were men.

Mister, we could use a round with sports again.

Our rivals never were content. We marked our bills to represent.

Freak host teams we did resent. Those were the days.

Take a little Tuesday spin, go to watch Evil Petting Zoo win.

Have yourself a dandy meal that cost you under a fin.

Filmwise was easy and audio rounds were long. Roy Acuff really sold a song.

We raised the bar for O so long. Those Were The Days.

In just about 3 and a half years of P&H trivia tuesdays Evil Petting Zoo racked up 18 3rd place finishes, 20 2nd place finishes, and 33 1st place victories.

They accumulated $4863.50 and a $30 P&H gift Certificate.
Placing in the money a total of 71 times.

All records that will stand the test of time. And we did it all without Human Growth Horomone or Steroids.

It started when Kenan and Chris decided to create a team that would, in Kenan's words, "dominate and destroy". And that they did.
Kenan, Chris, Greg, Jeanine, Brian, Stacy, Katherine, Dan, John, and myself all did our part to carry out Kenan's mission.

Some of the best memories I have are shared with these friends at table 7.
The number 1 rule at table 7 was "no moisture". If anyone observed moisture on the table you must "wick away!".

Brian was daring enough to brave the garbage heap in the adjacent parking lot to aquire 2 yellow chairs which we used each week to fill out our table. To this day those chairs remain in the back of the P&H pool table area....marked with "EPZ".


One night Chris, Kenan and I took on the other teams alone...and nearly put up the perfect score. We correctly answered 59 out of 60. Our knowledge of the Trevi Fountain was the only thing standing in our way from certain immortality. I still say we subconsciously missed that question on purpose as to show mercy on the other teams. Even evil has mercy, right?

There wasn't much we couldn't tackle. Geography? No problem; Stacy, Brian and Kath were on it.
Movies? Greg the cinemapprentice is on the case. Presidents, TV sitcoms, comic book characters, the brady bunch, baseball-- Chris is there. Literature, Gilmore Girls, music...Jeanine and Kenan would knock it out. Politics, current events, memphis news....John was all over it. Shakespeare?....Dan's the man. Football, sci fi, filmwise, potpouri...that's me. When we couldn't come to a concensus the sweet-n-low ballot was there to make the tough decisions.

I'll never forget Greg's birthday cake. I've never seen corn dogs like that!

Chris and I would celebrate a victory or ease our pain of losing with a post trivia Galaga romp. One night we witnessed some dude make our exploits seem bush league by scoring over 500,ooo points and going over round 50. The gentle giant felt small that night.

Like any "good" evil team member would do, Dan branched out and started up his own evil team. The Fresh Prince of Darkness. Alas, its life was short and its sting only brief.

If we didn't know an answer....it was probably William Shatner....or Roy Acuff.

So if you ever are in the midtown memphis area at a gas station and the clerk gives you some change and the dollar bill as "EPZ" somewhere on the face.....you'll know where it came from. Good fortune will follow you.

Evil Petting Zoo has retired. Feel free to check out the legacy we left via my links.
All evil things must come to an end? Someday we'll get together and ride again. Every great group does.
May the Tiki man bless you!

Ichthy's Waterfowling Days

Just thought I would post a few photos I took while out duck hunting recently.
The black lab, Belle, belongs to my dad. I think she has canine A.D.D.
The one photo of the trees in the water came out pretty neat. You can even turn it upside down and it still looks the same.
No ducks were harmed in the taking of these photographs......we did that later.
If you haven't had one of Ichthy's duck dinners, you are missing out!

Football Time?

I went to the Titans' opening day game. Not much of a GAME though.
But here's a couple pics of the highlights of my adventure.
CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow...Titans fan? Or just some freak looking for attention? He spoke like the movie character as well as carried on flamboyantly as well. Hmmmmm.....


Thought this was a neat deal. Pregame 9/11 ceremony.

I'm in Louisville, KY all this week learning all there is to know about State Farm Life Insurance. woohoo! It's Life "Boot Camp". yeehaw.....

This Olde House

Welcome to my humble abode. I just moved into this house about 10 days ago. My roommate is a few years younger than me, a guy from my hometown and fellow UTM alum.
Built in 1925, this stone masonry house has a full basement which is curiously sealed off at the moment. It also has a 2nd story and a small attic. Last week I learned that there is an old lady living up there. My roommate, James, says he doesn't know much about her other than she works for Vanderbilt University at night and sleeps all day. Perhaps she is a vampire librarian? The only way you know someone is up there is when she shuffles her feet across the floor above my room early in the morning. This sounds like a job for The Bloodhound Gang! Not to be confused with that band of questionable lyrics and behavior.

Find Another Vein for This Runaway Train

"O gluttony, it is to thee we owe our griefs!"
Geoffrey Chaucer

Don't you hate it when you get down to the last square? That moment of panic and anger you sense when you start cursing your spouse or roommate for leaving you in such a predicament instead of responsibly putting out a new roll. This country is headed down a track like that. Our country is a machine. A machine that runs on capitalism and oil. The world can be falling apart around the globe but as long as you and I can make it to work and pay our bills, eat to our hearts' desire, and go to the movies we'll keep on truckin'. $3 per gallon?
Well sir, I don't like it, but I've got to go. Go to work. Go to play. Go to Mcdonalds. Go run my jet ski all day at the lake. Go camping. See American. See American go....Go, American, go!

Ever since the automobile was invented we've had a need for oil. Everything we buy gets to the shelf because of oil. Without it, we're as helpless as we are holding the last square of TP in the house. And our suppliers know this. And we pay a hefty price for our drug. Our enablers?....Just look at the name on the back of your vehicle. GMC? Ford? Chevy? They've got that needle stuck so deep in our vein. And there it will stay until the last drop. Why pull it out now? They're greedy....no, they're lazy and shortsighted. WE are lazy, shortsighted gluttons. Why bother with new technology? Hydrogen power? Eh....that's too much work. Developing the plants, building the cars, who has time? I've got to make my tee time.

What we need now is another J.D. Rockefeller. Someone to step forward and put his money where our mouth should be....in our own back yard. The U.S. is the 4th largest oil producing country in the world. Not 4th largest USER....4th largest PRODUCER.
There's a technology out there that's been used since Hitler and the Germans developed it back in the 1930's& 1940's! It takes coal and converts it into oil. On an equivalent energy basis, the US has a larger energy resource base of coal than theOPEC nations have of oil. Here's the plan that's currently being sponsored by the CEO of JetBlue Airways. China's doing this. South Africa's doing this. Why can't we? Whatever opinion you have of our president, the war in Iraq, the middle east in general, you have to agree that we would be so much better off if we could be more self reliant with our oil needs.

Hydrogen power could be the future. Believe what you want about greedy oil companies like Exxon. Global warming arguements aside, oil is our drug. It's a hell of a drug, dude! I just dream of the day when we can tell OPEC "I think we should start seeing other people."
But most importantly... let's do it for the children.

Thoughts From the Corner

"And I said, I don't care if they lay me off either, because I told, I told Bill that if they move my desk one more time, then, then I'm, I'm quitting, I'm going to quit. And, and I told Don too, because they've moved my desk four times already this year, and I used to be over by the window, and I could see the squirrels, and they were merry, but then, they switched from the Swingline to the Boston stapler, but I kept my Swingline stapler because it didn't bind up as much, and I kept the staples for the Swingline stapler and it's not okay because if they take my stapler then I'll set the building on fire..."
My agent had her official ribbon cutting at our office this afternoon. I had to make sure my desk was in ship shape.
What'dya think? Notice my very own mini red swingline stapler. I'm not a big coffee drinker so my Redskins mug will have to hold company paraphernalia. You can't have your name on enough stuff in this business.There's plenty of cake & punch left to take home if anyone wants any. The ratio of people to cake wasn't too big. Members of Chambers of Commerce just don't have the belly for sweets. I'm about ready to get out of this shirt and tie and slip on my crocs and go find a pizza hut kiosk.

The Sky is Blue

Sticking with the superhero topic, Captain Obvious should have been the press agent to break the news to the world about Lance Bass this past week. With risk of being cliche, who didn't see THAT coming!? I mean, were you really surprised? If so then you might be interested in these warning labels.
Hot coffee will scald your crotch? Defrost a frozen dinner before eating? Are you telling me I can't blowdry my hair in the shower? A member of N'sync is gay? Well shut my mouth!

I guess it won't be too long before this group will have to modify their signs and add N'sync to God's hate list. This is about the only Christian group the ACLU has stood beside and defended in recent memory, not in support of their irrational beliefs (which their member and spokesman Michael Gross has admitted) but for their right to speak them. They've stood up for these people who proclaim such nonsense with no consideration of civil responsibility, restraint, nor respect. We all have civil rights and the primary right being that of freedom of speech. But just because I have the right to say something does not mean I should; especially in such a close proximity of a fellow citizen's funeral ceremony. My suggestion to the Westboro Baptist Church is if God is going to hate Lance Bass it should be because he was in N'sync....not because he is gay.

Sursum, sursum, et absens!

I came across an interesting website yesterday while googling. It's called The Government Bureau of Superheroics
It makes for an entertaining read-especially the Top 10 "Most Nefarious Supervillains list. You can also register your very own secret identity: Superhero name, place of origin, secret powers, etc. If you do, make sure you keep it a secret. You never know who is out there looking to take your little old aunt or hot model girlfriend hostage and hold her for ransom!!! muuaahhhaaa-haa-hhaaa!

Case of the Mondays

Today marks the beginning of week #3 at my new job. I'm back in the shirt, tie, and slacks routine again. For those who do not know, I have moved back home and taken a position with State Farm Insurance in Nashville. I will be this agency's Life and Health specialist. Imagine that, me, a specialist. Sounds serious doesn't it? I have my own desk, although it's not in a cubicle, which disappointed me at first. I always wanted to be like Dilbert, or better yet, Peter Gibbons in Office Space. But I kinda feel more like Milton Waddams. I have my own Swingline stapler, black not red. I'm in the back of the office at a desk stuck between 2 filing cabinets. i have a big calculator, a mesh wire cup full of red and white state farm pens, this nifty HP Compaq PC, a HP Deskjet color printer, let's see what else?.....oh a phone and an electric heating base for a scented candle which is curiously absent. I will eventually move into the office presently occupied by Elaina, our Life and Health Specialist. The office building isn't too big; there's only 4 of us here. I am the only guy here and on my 2nd day our toilet pipes backed up....and who gets the blame?....good ole Ichthy! They told me my tampons were the cause.....but I told them I haven't had a period in 30 years. I'm outnumbered though. I DO get to listen to some interesting conversations occasionally.....so I got that going for me. I'm still commuting from my parents' house about 75 miles west of here. I plan on doing some apartment hunting this weekend. I'm afraid I will have to seek a roommate to help split the cost, at least for a short while. Overall everything is going pretty well on this side of the river. But, it's monday and I'm pissed....no, i'm irked.....no, I'm irritated. I need to wrap my head in some duct tape because the following topic just bothers me so much it makes my head explode!

Remember Mike Iaconelli, the professional bass angler I wrote about last month? He's back in the news, this time Hollywood is in on the deal. Mike says, "The interesting thing is, and this is what I love about the movie, is how stereotypical non-fishing people are about fishing," said Iaconelli. "I had comments from people who didn't know the first thing about our sport: 'Do you wear the rubber boots?' and 'Is it like the crabbing thing on TV?' So they know, but they don't, it's an education. That's what is awesome about this film. If we can create a film and get it to people who don't really know how exciting bass fishing is. That's awesome."
No it's not, Mike! I would rather the public go on thinking professional anglers are just a bunch of rednecks "wearing rubber boots" and spouting off trite phrases such as "nice fish" and "get the net, Bubba!". Mike Ike is, as my Trivia and Blogging peer Fer puts it, "like school in the summertime=NO CLASS". His on the water behavior is nowhere near representative of the traditional, modest, conservative nature of the pioneers of this sport. Even this past spring, Iaconelli threw a temper tantrum during bass fishing's largest event, the Bassmaster Classic (sort of like the PGA Masters of bass fishing). He kicked and broke a light pole on his boat as well as swearing loudly-loud enough for the ESPN camera crew to pick it up on tape. This unsportsmanlike behavior casued him to be disqualified for the first day of the 3 day event. I do not want young kids and adults viewing any show portraying such immature and unrestrained behavior. Thanks, Fox, for jumping in head first right behind ESPN and swallowing this guy's crap "hook-line-and sinker". TV programs and the movie industry in general have gotten so out of hand the last few years; they stink worse than catfish bait left out in the July sun. There's too many reality shows out there just hoping to get some kind of shock value for nothing more than a couple of ratings points. Whatever happened to the good TV shows like The A-Team, The Cosby Show, MacGuyver, and Hill Street Blues? There you have good clean quality entertainment: Action( A-Team and MacGuyver), Family values/comedy (Cosby~Full House), and Cop Drama with integrity (Hill St. Blues) I'm so pissed right now I could spit!


SERENITY NOW!

"I yam-what-I-yam"

As some of you know I am a member of the P&H hosted Tuesday trivia team notoriously known as Evil Petting Zoo. Each member is in their own way "EVIL"; my way just happens to be divining and channeling all things Tennessean as well as Roy Acuffian.
But another characteristic of mine would be I am a conservative....and EVIL conservative. I suppose that is redundant since all conservatives are EVIL by nature, right? Nature indeed!!-Mother Nature! I think this short video clip can sum it up for me:




But just to save some face, here's my attempt to help spread awareness of the soon to be end of mankind-Well, the LATEST impending doom at least:

ESPN Killed the Ichthyo Star

Looks like a normal, likeable guy doesn't he? Maybe a little too much on the nerdy side to be a professional bass angler? That trophy nearly outweighs him. Overall, a normal, probably low key guy right?

How about now? Oops, did he lose his balance? Perhaps a big wave caused him to shift his weight and he's bracing himself to keep from going overboard. Nope. He's breakdancing. He does it so much it has become his trademark celebration after catching a big bass. His name is Mike Iaconelli. He's the new face of what professional bass fishing has become- much to my dismay.

Mike is not your grandfather's pro fisherman. He is the embodiment of "unbridled enthusiasm." Breakdancing and trash talking to the bass he catches( in yo face, bass!) he has amassed a huge fan base and ESPN is LOVING IT!

Not too long ago I was a member of 2 bass federation clubs back home. It never was as glamorous as you might see on the weekend fishing shows. I grew up learning how to fish with my dad, my cousin, high school friends, and club members. We always practiced catch & release and we were often involved in efforts to clean up the shorelines along our stretch of Kentucky Lake. Some of the local guys were great fishermen who inspired me to try harder and learn as much as I could about the sport. There were even a few pros on tv who not only had an entertaining show they also made it educational. But ESPN has taken a laid back sport and with the help of Iaconelli turned it into a multi-million dollar entertainment circus...eerrrr bonanza.

ESPN bought(took over) the Bass Anglers Sportsmen Society as well as the rights to televise their tournaments and related shows. As a result the TN bass federation removed itself from B.A.S.S. and basically told them I think we should start seeing other people and joined another large, more conservative organization sponsored ultimately by Wal Mart. ESPN has done all they can to use "Mike Ike" as their poster child for the "new and improved" entertainment industry. Now, I know that today money talks and I don't blame ESPN for trying to maximize their investment in what is becoming an entertainment business almost as large as the fast growing NASCAR world( not to mention the overlap of fan interest). But, I do not approve of that "business" decision. It really grinds my gears to see that sort of behavior encouraged as an acceptable characteristic in this sport. A few weeks ago, during our fishing classic sale at my part time job(Bass Pro Shops) I overheard a young kid tell a Bass Pro staff pro angler that he'd love to meet Mike Ike. Mike was this kid's "Idol".

So that's what brings me to the question "Is it right to have an Idol such as Mike?"
I hope the next generation of bass anglers, professional and hometown alike, do not model their behavior after such "clowns" as Mike. It's bad enough the fishing entertainment world is already seen as a redneck past time. But what do I know? I'm just a small town, laid back guy who is happy enough just to get to go fishing anymore.
Mike, do me a favor, go back to the nerdy look. That's not near as embarrassing.

Just for Gits-n-Shiggles

many more posters and t shirt ideas here
don't forget to play the little game at the bottom of the page.

Grindin' My Gears

"I'VE GOT A LOTTA PROBLEMS WITH YOU PEOPLE!" Well, not you my friends and readers, but with a few people out there. Now that my top 10 list is completed I have to actually come up with topics on my own, from scratch! There's been a few things that caught my attention the last few weeks and some passing ideas I thought might make for good discussion; beacause that's what this blog is all about: talking about issues. Ok, I know some of you are saying "What issues, Ichthy?....All you do is go on and on about your childhood memories, dreams, and curly fries." And you would be correct. That reminds me of one summer when I went to Orlando with my family....nevermind.

Alright, let's talk issues here. You know what really grinds my gears? The Dixie Chicks. They've recently come out with their new cd Taking the Long Way They've gone from being Country Music's bluegrass roots darlings to the black sheep of the patriotic country music family. Specifically, the lead singer, Natalie Maines. After making several anti-Bush/anti-Iraq war, etc comments during concerts and interviews, Fatalie, oops I mean Natalie, the Dixie Chunk, has a lot of her fans' gears ground into a fine metallic powder. Some of their new songs deal with how they're not ready to "make nice" and refuse to apologize for their political criticism. And you know what, Natalie? I don't want you to apologize. I strongly believe and support an American's right to free speech, freedom to protest, to speak out against OUR government...the people WE THE PEOPLE put in the office. They're only there because they work for us. Stand strong Natalie, speak your mind. But please just get over it and go back to entertaining us. The only time your pie hole should be open, as an entertainer, is when you're on the stage singing. You've got a great voice; just use it for singing about Wide Open Spaces and a fed up wife killing her abusive hubby, Earl.

Speaking of female singers who are pissing me off this week: Joan Baez is going out on a limb to protest the destruction of a 14 acre wooded area in South Central LA. Again, I have no problem with someone protesting. It's just agonizing to be constantly bombarded by celebrities these days who feel as if it is their obligation to champion a cause for this interest group or that Politically Correct mainstream ideal. They're entertainers and they're successful for much the same reason OUR government officials are in office, because WE put them there. WE buy tickets to their concerts and their movies, TV shows, etc. They entertain us....that's all I want from Hollywood....entertainment. And don't get me started on the LACK of entertainment at the box office the last 2 years! Wait, here's an idea. We need to convince more celebrities to climb trees...the tallest trees we can find....like redwoods maybe. Tell them we won't cut the trees down as long as they stay up there protesting. And once they settle into their rich and famous arboreal lifestyle maybe we'll get some peace and quiet...but if they try to slip back down the tree trunk somone should be waiting with a chainsaw....just give it a quick "ruurr! ruuurrrr!" rev of the motor to help them scurry back up.

That's enough talking issues for me this week. Next time I think I'll discuss a related topic: American Idol. I hate the show. I'm glad it's over. But there's something...someONE who's been grindin' my gears a lot this year. Check your local listings for more to come.

Ichthyophile, OUT!

My Own Wonderland

Finally, my #1 most favorite post from the HypoMatt vault. And of course it has to do with 2 of my favorite icons from childhood and even today: Star Wars and THE St. Louis baseball Cardinals. It's about a dream I had about a year ago. I'm not sure what influenced it. I don't think anyone can be held accountable for the dreams they have and for my sake let's hope it was nothing more than nonsense.

Han Solo is a St. Louis Cardinals Fan
05.25.04 (2:34 pm)
The last few nights I have been having some strange dreams. They all seem to have the same theme, I am involved in a mission to save the planet from destruction. Each dream has contained some kind of alien species yet each species looks and acts differently. But the one I had last night was the most bizarre of all. It can best be described as a cross between Spaceballs and Gumby with a little Star Wars mixed in. The dream begins with me on the Millennium Falcon with Han Solo and some other characters who all seem to be made of clay who claim to be from the Claymation Nation. Aliens are chasing us and we decide to hide the ship inside a deep cave on a huge asteroid (Han Solo mumbles something about experiencing deja vu, I think he was referring to what he did in the very first Star wars movie). In order for us to exit the ship Han inflates a huge air mattress with the St. Louis Cardinals logo on it. It's even autographed by Albert Pujols. So we all slide down the mattress and hit the ground and skid across the slippery surface until we come to rest against the cave wall. As we come to the mouth of the cave we see an alien guard standing watch out in the middle of a large, empty, desert looking landscape. He stands there with an expressionless stare off into space. He is standing in between 2 windows which are suspended in mid air. They are about 4 feet above the ground, 10 feet apart, and each facing the same direction, parallel to each other. Now, according to one of our Claymation Nation sidekicks, who just so happens to be Patrick the starfish from Spongebob Squarepants, the only way to get by the alien guard is to climb in through the widow on the right then crawl over to the other window and crawl back out through it. "But we need a diversion" he says. That's when another interesting person steps forward with a genius idea. I'll call him, in my mind because I don't remember ever speaking to him directly, nor never hearing his name called out, Bread Dough Boy(BDB for short). Try to imagine what a soft pretzel would look like before it is twisted and baked. Now imagine that being 6 feet tall with doughy arms and legs, 2 fish eyes and a mouth. So BDB runs off in the direction of the guard carrying a jump rope. He begins to jump rope and jog erratically. Now friends, to you and I such a sight alone would be enough to divert our attention for at least 5 minutes( no offense Pillsbury dough boy), but BDB saw it fit to go the extra mile and steps it up a notch. He intentionally skips a jump and lets the rope come down and slice him in twain! At which point he crawls over to his bottom half, kneads himself back together, rolls himself out into his original form and continues to go through the motions. Needless to say, the trick worked well and the guard followed BDB away from the windows. So we climb through the first window, crawl over to the next and crawl back through it, expecting to logically end up back on the side we had just came from only 10 feet down. But instead we found ourselves in a wal mart, sitting at a table playing Bingo.

Now HERE is where it gets FREAKY. Today I had to go to wal mart to get an oil change. As I walked around the store I made my way back towards the Mcdonalds corner back near the dairy products. As I approached I noticed the tables were full of senior citizens playing....BINGO. And what was on the shelf across from there? Pillsbury dough in a can. I swear to you I cannot make this stuff up!

P.S. The elderly man calling out the bingo numbers was one of wal mart's elderly greeters. Decked out in full Greeter garb(neatly pressed blue vest attached to which were many welcoming pieces of flair). He even called out, and I quote, "B12.....B12....as in vitamin B12."

Boy, I can't wait to get to sleep tonight!

The House of my Dreams

#2 has to do with my paternal grandparents' house. I had a lot of fond memories there and occasionally I still have dreams of that place. It must have left quite an impression on me in my youth.

When I was growing up in rural Carroll county west TN I lived in a house right up the hill from my paternal grandparents. Down the road from us in one direction lived my dad’s 2nd oldest of 3 sisters, aunt Karen. Up on the other hill on the other side of the hollow from my grandparents lived at one time my oldest aunt, Sharon, and after her my youngest aunt, Sandra. So it was only natural for me to feel a closer connection to my dad’s family. We all were within a mile of each other and our properties connected for the most part. I would spend many Friday nights down at my grandparents’ house watching the dukes of hazard with my cousin Brian, fishing up at the big pond, playing kickball in the front yard, churning the homemade ice cream contraption in the summer, hunting for box turtles along the creek banks with my blue healer Shannon, and throwing dirt clods at anything that moved out in the field. But the one strongest memory I have overall is the house itself. A wood stove that rest on a brick foundation in the living room heated it. Christmas dinners and gift opening frenzies took place in the adjoining den. The main bathroom door could only be locked by pulling out the closest drawer so it would keep someone from opening it inward too much and give you time to say “hey occupied!” One of the extra bedrooms had red carpet and the other had blue. The couch in the den was almost exactly like the one Tony and Emily have in their apartment. Long, green and screaming of the 60’s or 70’s fashion…but comfy! One of my most vivid memories was watching the 86’ World Series game when Bill Buckner missed an easy ground ball at first base that let the Mets win the worlds series. Brian and I were just 3 feet from the TV screen jumping and high-fiving each other. I used to help my grandmother plant potatoes and green beans and corn in their garden. And I would be once again recruited for summertime black-eyed pea shelling, corn husking and green bean snapping when the time was right. My memory of that house is so strong even to this day. In May 1992, on a Sunday my aunt Sandra called to tell us that the house had burned down. We rushed out there just in time to see the volunteer firemen collapse the last standing wall into the huge pile of white ash. Suddenly that huge house didn’t seem so large. I could still tell where the living room used to be. I could still see the frame of the TV and couch, that ugly green but comfy couch. The only thing they could figure was that my grandma had left the stove on while preparing some food for the church’s fellowship lunch. She took it hardest of all. She sobbed sorrowfully into my dad’s shoulder as he comforted her. He told her, “Cheer up momma, that house was getting old. Now you can get a new house and make it just like you want this time…even better.” And he was right. That fall they finally moved into a bigger and better house. With a nice patio on the back where each summer about 50 hummingbirds swarm around all her flowers and feeders buzzing and squeaking and playing. Plenty of good times and good memories are being established in that new house. But there’s a reason I told you about the old house. Not because I am nostalgic at heart but for a more mysterious reason that will come in the next blog.

Want Curly Fries With That?

#3 is the conclusion of the Ethical Ellis story.
Ethical Ellis Part Deux
01.26.05 (11:51 am)
We last left our hero (or suspect if you will) on the wrong side of the Law. How was I going to break this to my parents? It's a small town and when things like this go down the gossip spreads quicker than Britney Spears's first marriage. By the time I had everything settled back at my dorm room I was already stressed more than ever before. I don't think I had ever been so stressed and frightened since that time I was about 5 years old and got stuck in the mud in my grandparents' garden. I was out there for an hour screaming for help but no one ever came to help me. Or maybe it was the time during my high school freshman year when some friends and I got busted in a test cheat sheet racket. But that's another story for another time. As I was reliving those past scary moments the phone rang. It was my dad. He was asking if I got back to school safely and making small talk. I had this deep down feeling in my gut that he already knew what happened and was just waiting for me to admit it. The longer we talked the more and more I felt like I was living The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allan Poe "TRUE! nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why WILL you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How then am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily, how calmly, I can tell you the whole story." "Dad, I got into a little trouble this morning before I left." (Yeah, I hadn't chopped up someone and buried them under the floor but for drama's sake just humor me).....turns out he hadn't heard about it yet so I spilled the beans. He said he was very disappointed in me and that I would have to get a job to pay the fine. J-J-J-JOB?!?!? So much for focusing on just my classes!


So I told you ALL of that to tell you THIS: I got a part time job at the local Dairy Queen
as a Culinary Artist. Ok, I flipped mini-burgers and burned french fries. I hated the job. HATED? No....Loathed...Resented....I got so sick of fast food that I went on a strict diet and lost nearly 20 pounds that spring. I managed most of my classes. I think I failed whatever math I was taking, but that was true for most math classes during my college career. But that one wrong decision I made that January morning had a much deeper and longer lasting effect on my life and who I am today. I promised myself I would never go back to THAT kind of job again. I was miserable everyday there. To this day Dairy Queen is still the topic of many jokes about me with a few of my old friends. During my short Christmas vacation this winter my brother and I drove by that place where it all happened. It was the first time I remember going by there in 10 years. I looked down into the woods and the creek and wondered if my decoys were still out there somewhere....waiting for me to return. I couldn't believe it had been 10 years but I could still feel how cold my feet were......I was wearing 2 left boots!!!!! It's funny now when I tell people about it, but I still regret being so stupid.

William O'Rourke once said "Regret is an odd emotion because it comes only upon reflection. Regret lacks immediacy, and so its power seldom influences events when it could do some good."

In other words; "Regret is always a day late and a dollar short"