Bacefook

This post it to be a parody of the popular Facebook mime, "25 random things about yourself"

This is just 25 random things.

1. Double yellow lines on American roadways mean -do not cross- You are not supposed to cross a double yellow line for any reason other than an absolute emergency. Attempting to cut off people who are following the rules in order to get to that turn lane half mile up the road is not an emergency. The rule isn't -do not cross unless its more convenient for you to do so- the rule is -do not cross-. By the way, that center turn lane your trying to use has a double yellow line at the end of it. This has been a random public service announcement.
   
   
   
2. If there is one stray doggy dung pile in your back yard, you will not find it no matter how hard you search, until your barefoot.
   
   
   
   
   
3. A zit in the corner of your nose or on the very edge of your lip has a direct connection to your central nervous system and your tear ducts. It is impossible to pop these zits without it hurting a bunch and bringing tears to your eyes. This is Gods way of telling us to keep our nose out of other peoples business and to keep our mouths shut. So if you have the dreaded lip zit, you've been gossiping to much.
   
   
   
   
   
4. Oxymoron: The French have a reputation centered around everything romantic. Their language sounds romantic, romantic and intimate things like kissing get names like French kiss. Romantic dreams often include dinner in Paris, French wine, and cuddles under the Eiffel Tower. Why is it then that every French man I have ever met is rude, skinny, and smells like old cheese?



5. I remember Lava with pumice. It was a green soap filled rock that came in a red wrapper with the picture of a volcano on it. It would scrub any dirt right off your hands, or it would remove the skin if need to get the dirt off. What ever happened to Lava.
   
   
   
6. Depression is having a sense of clarity involving reality, but not having any faith or hope.



7. Samuel Slocum invented the stapler for holding papers together to make it more easier to hold paper together. In 1841 he patented his idea of sticking pins in a paper to hold them together thus inventing the staple. Johan Vaaler, a Norwegian inventor with a degree in electronics, science and mathematics, invented the paperclip in 1899. He received a patent for his design from Germany in 1899, since Norway had no patent laws at that time. Now you know, the paperclip is the modern improvement over the staple.



8. The ability to prioritize separates the organized from the disorganized. The ability to organize the disorganized separates the leaders from the followers.




9. Scripture makes reference to sitting at the table at the right hand of the Father. The right hand position is a place of honor. Does this mean that those of us on the right side of the aisle, the conservatives, are more righteous than the liberal left? Lets just go with yes here 'cause I am feeling just a little bit superior.



10. You can convince a 5 year old that her mother has 3 eyes, one in the back of her head, and they will believe you, but you cant convince them that running with scissors, dancing with pencils, and spinning with forks is dangerous, even when they regularly fall down for no reason anyway.



11. If you work for the Post Office, chances are you are a government employee. If you work for the Post Office, chances are you belong to the American Postal Workers Union. Now, maybe this makes sense to somebody, but by my definition of Union, the purpose of the Union is to assist in enforcing fair labor practice upon an employer and monitoring that the legal contract signed with said employer is honored. Here's the catch, if your employer is the government, then don't they decide what fair labor practice is in the legislative branch and are not the judges (judiciary branch) the ones who would interpret the contract. Just seems to me a waist of energy to have a union in a government shop. Patco rings a bell.






12. It is impossible for any red blooded American male to say the words "pumpkin chunkin'" and not smile. It makes us almost giddy to think about, if middle age men can get giddy. It brings out the middle school boy in us, the boy who knows farts are funny, funniest if you can either shift the blame to someone else or make you friends turn that queasy green. The competition to build a machine to toss/throw/ launch a pumpkin the longest distance is what is called "pumpkin chunkin'". This activity is so basal male, but its just fun to watch, would be a blast to do, and its just fun to even say. Ah my brothers, let me assist you in having a pleasant day, say it three times with me. Pumpkin Chunkin..........(louder this time) Pumpkin Chunkin'................( one more time with enthusiasm) PUN_KIN_CHUNK_KIN................ Now my brothers, have a nice day. My sisters, move along, nothing to see here, move along please...............



13. Does anybody remember the story of the rabbit and the hole to help teach kids to tie there shoes? If you do please email it to me, I cant get Gracie to do it, motor skills issues and bad case of princess brain (which is simply girly female brain but I can say princess brain without getting in trouble, shh don't tell) She want to and I remember my Grandpa teaching me with some rabbit story but I cant remember it now.



14. All people are strange, some are just stranger than others.


15. The rate at which paint and stain dry is directly controlled by whether or not it was meant to be on the item it just landed on. Stain takes days to dry on wood, seconds to dry on concrete or clothing, paint takes hours to dry on the wall but drys on contact with a five year olds hair.
    
    
16. They call him Kipper, Kipper the dog, the dog with a slipper, that's Kipper, Kipper the dog. (by the way that's a toad not a frog) He can do this, don't you wish that you could, he can that, which is more than any old cat could............... wouldn't yo like a dog, like a dog, like a dawg like Kipper, that's Kipper the dog,,,,,,,,,,,,,, now that's a frog ( ribbit)
    
    
17. Thunderbird is more stable than Outlook express, but its hard if not impossible to insert super smileys into the messages.



18. Ever notice that if you seem to be the one who always initiates the phone call or email to friends and you stop doing it they don't notice. Maybe you were just annoying them and they are glad your not bothering them, but if they need you they will call or email, because now you suddenly matter again, ever notice that?
    
    
19. Paranoid people know someone is out to get them, but since they don't know who, they just assume its everyone. Odds are they are right at least once in a while.
    
    
20. Time passes unchanged, its unforgiving, and it doesn't care.



21. The Wizard of Oz can be emotionally stressful if you childhood home life was less that stable and satisfying.
    
    
    
22. God has a sense of humor, ever seen a platypus? Adam had a sense of humor too, he got to name it Platypus.
    
    
23. Pizza is good food.
    
    
24. The people at Coke Zero really did steal the taste from Coke. No, really they did. Really.



25. And for the 25th random thing.

• God is good all the time. All the time, He is good.

Its a guy thing.

The title has a meaning, ladies, please feel free to turn away. Perhaps you might be better off skipping this post and just reading the next one about Gracie being creative and cute. Its not that your not welcome here this time, its just that you wont understand. (Ruth, you might want to read it with one eye closed so you can share it with your hubby)

First, observe the above pictures. Your average guy already knows what is about to happen and he is cringing, but will read it anyway. As is apropos for me, I will now tell you a tale in which I will use a 1000 words. The same tale could be told in one sentence but that sentence would be one full of lexicon not appropriate for public consumption and could make a sailor faint with blush. But, I digress. On with the saga.

Thursday afternoon I was preparing a rather large shaft for shipment upstate. This shaft was 72 inches long and weighed in at about 400 lbs. I needed to secure it to a long skinny pallet so the over the road trucking company would transport the item for us. If you don't know what a pallet looks like, please observe a standard shipping pallet in photo number one. The shaft in question needed a little mending and strengthening up because of the length and weight of the shaft. I needed to secure a few extra boards to the top of the skid so it could be transported safely and securely. I work in a machine shop so I had to rummage around and find the tools and supplies I needed since I was working with wood and not the usual metal forming that we normally do. I was able to turn up a few 3" long heavy finishing nails that would work nicely to attach some extra top boards to my pallet. A little on the large side, but a big nail is better than a small nail, right? After finding this prize I needed a hammer. Well, this is a machine shop so how hard could it be to find a hammer? Trick with this is that nails are meant to be used with a claw hammer. We have sledge hammers, too big and awkward, dead blow hammers, too soft on the face for a nail, lead hammers, same problem, but alas we have ball peen hammers. The only issue with a ball peen is that the face is slightly domed and meant to strike objects, not nails. Well, being the skilled (if not smart) man that I am, I have driven many a nail with a ball peen. You bend a few, but it'll due in a pinch, and I was in a pinch. Now I drive the first 5 nails in with no problem, only bend one. I need to attach one more side of one more top board and we will have a shippable pallet. I bend this nail.

Then I try again, must have hit a knot in the hardwood.

I bend this nail as well.

I try again, new spot, must be a big knot.

Now, here I need to paint you a picture with words so try to picture this in your mind. (any ladies still reading, its okay, its just not something your gonna get) Okay, here goes.

Now, only one nail left so I need to make sure I get it right this time. I get down on my left knee. I bend my right leg up and place my right foot on the pallet rail just about 6 inches to the right of wear I am driving the nail. Far enough away that I cant miss or glance off and hit my foot or ankle. This position provides me with good leverage and a stable platform to drive that last nail. I place the nail in the wood and tap it several times with my 5 pound ball peen hammer to get it started. It sinks nicely down in the wood and I am confident I have made it through this time. I have about half an inch in and only two and a half more inches to sink into this baby. I now place my left hand on the skid to provide more stability and leverage. As I lean over I am able to apply more controlled force on the top of the nail and drive it deeper home. Problem, the nail has stopped moving. Perhaps I need a little more effort on the next swing.

This next swing, which incidentally was the last swing, placed the nail a full 12 feet directly off to my right. Straight out from my right arm. Well, if you constructed your visual correctly you are now wondering how a nail can get 12 feet off to my right side. Wouldn't it have to go through your leg to get there. One might think so, but no. If the nail went forward, it would land in front of me, to my left it would land to my left, to my right it would hit my leg and bounce someplace else, but not my right. If the nail comes towards me however, it should land either behind me, or bounce off my chest and stay in front of me. This little lesson in the laws of physics leaves one option out however. The nail could take a low enough trajectory to bounce itself off my right testicle and then propel itself a full 12 feet, ON THE RICOCHET, off to my right side.

Yes my brothers, I bounced a nail off one of the boys and it flew 12 feet afterwords. I immediately took comfort in laying on the cold concrete floor, full fetal position, while trying to clear the fluid that mysteriously appeared and removed any hope of clear vision. I must admit to cradling my eggs expecting to find a life threatening bleeder, but nope, the projectile did not pierce the polyester. Saved by Cintas slacks and Grinch boxers. A few moments later I was able to return to a kneeling position and plead with Elvis to stay in the building for a little while longer.

Men, something you may want to know about this experience. Most of us know that when we have one of the twins grazed, we have a few long moments to prepare for that dull thudding ache that we know is approaching. We know the boys are about to head north to the abdomen and hide for a while causing us some discomfort. When we get that crush or thud impact, we know we have a moment or two, usually not two, to prepare for them to run clear up to our esophagus causing that oh so uncomfortable feeling. Getting nailed, with a nail no less, with a rapid moving pointy thing in our favorite marble, does not give you that moment of warning. Just so you know.

And by the way men. It is oh so prudent to make sure you have the right tool for the job. The boys downstairs are counting on you.

Gracie-ism et al

I just love the way kids fill in the blanks with their own version of logic. It is most entertaining when it pertains to words, words they either cant remember or cant pronounce. What you see in the picture above is a pterodactyl. Gracie was playing 'monster' the other evening and making noises and threatening to 'eat me up 'cause your scrumptious and delicious' I finally got around to asking what kind of monster was she.

The answer:

Purple flying flap-a-saraus.

Computer: $799

Internet connection : $49.95 per month

Sharing the words 'Purple flying flap-a-saraus: Priceless !!!

wounded

Gracie has had an interesting weekend. With that I shall begin another edition of ( insert suspenseful music here) Life according to Gracie.

Well the weekend started innocently enough, this things usually do start that way. Gracie was 'wallering' me on the couch. Yes, before you ask, she does use the word 'wallering'. She asks for permission to 'waller' before engaging in the activity. 'Wallering' usually consists of a piggy back ride or three and her being tossed about like a rag doll. Tipping the scales these days at a solid 38 pounds, this isnt as easy as it used to be. ( just a quick side note, she now gets on the scale and asks what the number is as she now associates it with weight. She used to get on the scale and ask us to check her feet. I love that she is growing up and growing wiser, but I miss the innocents of some of the sillier things) Anyway, after a while of 'wallering' she managed to catch the top of her foot on my sharp and un-manscaped big toe nail. I left about a 2 inch long scrap across the top of those dainty little feet from the orient. She didnt blink or cry or react at all for about 3 minutes. Then she started to rub her wound. After rubbing the wound she looked down and it had begun to bleed. Not the kind of blood that runs out of a cut mind you, just the surface scratch kind were the blood isn't even wet to the touch. But, Gracie has a wound fetish. Any blood, no matter how big or how small requires the immediate application of a band aid. Her obsessive nature kicked into hyper drive right here and she searched the entire house top to bottom in search of a band aid. None was to be found, but this did not relieve the immediate and desperate need to apply one on this wound, one was needed with the greatest of urgency. So, since I had caused the wound, it was my job as the dutiful daddy to accommodate the need. I dispatched the wounded soldier to the first aid package that we keep under the bathroom sink. When she tromped back down the steps ( mind you this is the 5th time she has been up and down the steps in this escapade) I sit her on the couch next to me. I then retrieve a 4" by 4" gauze pad from the package and place on the still not really bleeding wound. I then take an ace bandage from the pack and wrap her entire foot, ankle and half way up to her knee in the bandage. At first this makes her happy, but that soon passes. Her mother and I begin to tease her about the seriousness of the wound and how if it doesn't heal properly we might have to remove the foot just below the knee. She snuggles up under moms arm and burst into tears. Okay, dad forgot you don't joke with the sensitive child. ( and Gracie is the sensitive child, no question) I explain that I was just kidding, at her request I removed the bandage and life went on with her no worse for wear. This is only Friday, its going to be a long weekend.

Next we have a trip to Kentucky. We have a 50th wedding anniversary to attend. We haven't seen most of these people in a good while so Gracie is a little clingy. Mom is moving around a lot because it is her family and she wants to visit, thus Gracie attaches herself to me. This is fine as far as I am concerned. Gracie felt pretty bold that night because she was sitting in my lap and felt safe from the commotion that was all around her. She felt bold enough to engage two different adversaries. First a young boy, 4 or so, who wanted to talk with Gracie and get to know her better. Nothing wrong with that. The boy kept getting closer to Gracie every time he would talk to her, that is pretty normal too. The last time he got about 1/2 inch from her nose to ask a question, Gracie turned to me and asked, " what does he want?" The voice was one of pure frustration on her part. I told her that he just wanted to know if she could read. He got his answer. One long diatribe about her being able to read sight words and sound out bigger words and she was almost done with kindergarten and she was ready to move on to big girl school which meant the 1st grade. Her hands were on her hips and her eyes were rolling into the back of her head. Her head was a bobbin' enough to make Aunt Jemima dizzy. It was a full blown attitudinal response. For some reason they didn't talk to much after that.

A little while later in the evening her cousin sat down next to me and said something to Gracie. She said something that was making fun of Gracie (something about her having red from the strawberries on her teeth) Well aunt Fanny hold the phone, Gracie took off on her as well. She informed her that she had hurt her feelings not once but twice and that she didn't need to listen to her because she wasn't her boss and she didn't want to talk to her anymore. Yikes, Jr. Mao is on a roll this weekend.

Now we have the final event of the weekend. This time Gracie decided she wanted to be a big kid. She is not ready to take us on just yet, but she has been feeling her oats and wanted to test the waters to see just how stupid her parents really are. This story is about Gracie the 5 year old teenager. Only Gracie and me were feeling up to church this morning so the two of us got ready. Once Gracie was ready and dressed all purdy, she was sitting on the couch next to me. Mom had generously allowed her to take her purse to church with her this week and had supervised the contents of said purse. While sitting on the couch and swinging her feet like Edith Ann she made the tragic observance that she only had 3 of her 4 lip glosses in the purse. She asked if she could go upstairs and get the missing one. Both of her parents said no, not because it was a national security issue or anything, but just because these trips tend to be time consuming and pointless. Well, the obsessive nature reared its head once again. She was gonna blow if the item she felt belonged in its place was not in the place it belonged when she thought it belonged there. Poor Gracie has no adaptability at all. We also had a conversation about her not needing to take her sunglasses with her (which are a prized possession that she has a separate case to carry them with) because it was cloudy and she was wearing a head band that prevented her wearing them anyway. She then asked if she could go wash her face, she felt like she had milk on her face is what she said. Mom informed her that there was no milk. Dad, being the super plumber ninja dad that I am, intervened and said, sure honey, go wash her face, wash it good. I knew full well what her plan was but I was hoping she would either confess or abandon the mission. Oh, no, not this time. She was up and down the steps in 20 seconds. Oddly enough I never heard the water come on. She sat down the glasses case, but when I said it was time to get in the car, she picked them back up on the way out the door.

Now its daddy time::::

Once departing the driveway it was time to call her on it. I pointed out that she was going to have to work a lot harder to fool us, we know everything, we are parents. Mom has that third eye and all. (reference previous post for that story, its a hoot) She keeps saying sorry and promising to not do it ever again, but I keep explaining that the glasses and lip gloss are still in the car so nothing changed. I manage to keep her in tears all the way to church. The conversation progressed into me explaining that lying to parents requires discipline. This she understood and was okay with. What she was not okay with was I kept pushing the issue that I wanted her to pick what she felt fair discipline should be. My, I didn't realize how much kids hate that. This drove her nuts for a good 15 minutes. It also allowed me to totally control the storm and turn it off once we hit church. Upon arrival, all was well. We did church, came home, had lunch, had a nap, all went well. After nap, and game planning by both parents, it was time to launch the final assault. I got the pleasure of informing Gracie that her purse was house bound for the next week and it was going to sit in the living room just to remind her of what she had done and the lying was going to get her in trouble every time.

Goodness sakes alive. You would have though I had cut off her ears. I considered removing mine about then. She blew instantly. It was one of those cataclysmic big bang melt down things. She started wailing, jumping around in circles and trembling. Screaming that I was mean and she didn't want to hear my voice anymore. She told me ( 18 times, I counted) that she didn't like me anymore. Well, being the super hero that I am, I stayed calm and paddled through the deluge. About 25 minutes later, the storm ended just as abruptly as it began and she knows she screwed up. She said she would be really really really super good this week to get her purse back. I said we would work on it.

You need to understand one thing. Taking the purse is like asking her not to pee. She takes those things every place. She sits in her room and moves the 'purse items' from one to the other just because. This includes every piece of change she has confiscated. The purse and the sunglasses case are her prizes.

Isn't parenting fun?? !! ??

I am tired now, but Gracie is happy and well adjusted. I think it might be a while before she lies to us again. But, then again, who knows. Sooner or later she will be smart enough to out fox her parents. Most of us got to that point eventually. She is a long long way from there right now, and with her having older , wiser parents who got into more than their fair share of mischief, poor Gracie is going to have to work real hard at out foxing us.

Good luck my dear.

Vocal-larity

Gracie has been particularly vocal here as of late. She has had a lot to talk about.

Conversation number one.

Gracie : Augustine is sooooooooo cute, I tell him that a lot, he said to me once that I say that all the time, and one time, one time last week, I told him, I know I say that all the time, but I like to tell him that because he is just adooooooorable, so adorable, I used to think Fabrezio was cute too but he doesn't come to our class anymore, but I told him once he was cute and he said I say that all the time and ya know what, ( name changed to protect the guilty) Lisa, a girl in my class kissed a boy, but it wasn't Augustine, it was another boy, she kissed him twice, and she shouldn't do that should she? That was not appropriate for her to do was it? She shouldn't do things like that, she also kissed one of the boys on her street like last week and she shouldn't do that either, even if its not in school she shouldn't kiss a boy like that, I wont kiss a boy, unless he is family like my daddy, my bitty, (her dog) or well, I wont do that.

She said all of this in one breath. She makes me tired

During this brief warm spell we had just a few days ago Gracie was riding her bike and I was removing debris and dead stuff from the flower beds. She pulled up on the driveway apron and said.

"What in the tarnations is all this mess?"

Tarnations? Oh it gets better.

I asked, " what did you say?"

She said:" You say, Goo-ooood Looo-ord, mommy says, goodness gracious, and I say tarnations"

First, I have no idea where she got the word from. but she uses it correctly for the culture of this area and in context of the rules of her family. She pronounces it correctly, Tarn-ation-s. She has a little bit of a hick inflection going with it and she adds the inappropriate 'S' at the end. What do I mean by local culture? I mean it sounds country. What do I mean by the rules of her family? Well that would be the use of the inappropriate 'S'.

You know the 's' it shows up in words like:

• Deers - plural form of deer
• Macaronis - plural form of macaroni
• and of course, tarnations.

Phrase-ology 101

In this post I would like to discuss two common phrases.

1. "its just one of THOSE things"
   
2. "its going to be THAT kind of day"
   

It can be kind of fun and always challenging to explain things to a 5 year old such as Gracie. You never really realize how difficult it can be to explain something, even something you understand, to someone who has no idea. When most adults hear either of the above phrases, we know exactly what is being said. We know, but could we explain it. What exactly are THOSE things and what make them different than other things? I know what THOSE things are as well as you the reader most likely does, but how do you explain what THOSE things are? In the case of phrase number two, we have all had THAT kind of day, but what kind of day is THAT kind of day? What does the THOSE and THAT refer to exactly? I know you know, you know I know, but can either of us explain them to someone else who doesn't know?

Well, I needed a topic for a post, so I will attempt to explain what THOSE things are, and what THAT kind of day is, just in case you have never run into - just one of THOSE things or had THAT kind of day.

These two phases, at least in my experience, are inseparably adjoined like Siamese twins. Like tic and tac, like flies on......... well you get the point, they go together like peas and carrots. (Forest Gump voice implied here)

When something happens, not something terrible necessarily, just something, and its something that you couldn't necessarily see coming and therefore had little if any opportunity to avoid, then the phrase, - its just one of those things- comes into play. The implication is that its something out of the ordinary, usually negative but not tremendously negative. Its just something that is odd and now, since you couldn't avoid it, you must adjust and deal with it.

When you string together a series of events that fall under the heading of - its just one of those things- within a 24 hour period then you are headed down the path to - its going to be that kind of day- I would be remiss if I did not endeavor to put forth some effort to provide you with some examples of THOSE things that might indeed lead to THAT kind of day.

Lets say you don't hear your alarm go off the first 12 times so when you finally do hear something obscenely loud you look at the clock and realize your already behind schedule by 15 minutes so you jump out of bed and start moving briskly to try and make up some time. You toss on some boxer shorts and scoop up your blind dog and head down the stairs. Place said blind dog in front of his water bowl because he is panting and obviously thirsty and then you move on to your other tasks. Oops, I forgot to turn off the obscenely loud radio alarm clock which is now blaring some twangy harelipped Reba McIntyre tune, so you must run back up stairs and beat the alarm clock senseless in order to get it to stop. Once you are again upstairs you might as well put on your socks (why? I dont know) and grab your work clothes before going back down stairs. Work clothes over your shoulder you start stomping back down the steps. At the bottom of the steps you blind dog is wiggling his tail (but not looking at you) because he hears you coming. Isn't that cute I think. This is the though you might have before you step off that last step and your sock foot lands in a puddle of warm liquid. There is nothing in this world near as nasty as warm pee on a cold wood floor soaking up immediately into you sock. Warm wet sock feet are just NAAAAssssttty. Well, - its just one of THOSE things that might be the beginning of THAT kind of day.

With one hurried and fluid motion I put the dog out, mop the floor, remove the sock and proceed to the downstairs bathroom to wash my hands, thoroughly. During this sanitation process I notice two issues, first the running water reminds me, abruptly, that I have yet to make time in my haist for my urgent morning pee. I would like to do that right now, (really really like to do that right now) but alas I cannot because the blind dog has decided to bark and at 5 AM this is not acceptable so I must go retrieve him from the back yard before answering my own call to nature. I do so very quickly and efficiently before returning to the bathroom. Once I do I also feel another urge strike that causes me to want to sit down whilst in the bathroom. The hurried-er I go the behind-er I get. Now I need to take a moment to remind you of what exactly your toilet looks like, just in case you forgot. You have a bowl, on top of that bowl you have two movable lids. The first lid covers the bowl so you don't drop combs, lipstick, or toothbrushes into it. The second lid is made to sit on. The second lid also comes up to provide males with a larger target to aim at, and as an added bonus, keeps the seat dry in case that target is still not large enough. We males prefer to leave both lids up because our lipstick never finds its way in the bowl anyway. The reason for the anatomy lesson of the toilet is this. The second lid does not come all the way down to the bowl. There is a wee little crack left between lid two and bowl. If a hurried and frazzled half asleep male takes his seat too rambunctiously and does not take sufficient care in positioning his bladder drain hose before releasing the check valve he might find that the spray nozzle has access to this purposeless crack which will then spray wildly and randomly onto the back of the ankle bound boxers. - its just one of THOSE things that might lead to THAT kind of day.

Now if someone where to do this mind you, they would most likely then need to traipse back upstairs with damp boxers at arms length in one hand and blind dog, still wiggling, under other arm. Place dog in comfortable spot and retrieve clean dry boxers (and socks) from drawer. Put on boxer, but not the socks (why? I don't know) and head back down stairs. While putting shirt on I realize that I need to go start my car and let it warm up a little before actually leaving. After some adieu I locate the keys and slide out the garage door and proceed to start my car. I am now well behind schedule. After closing car door I look up and see another early riser driving down the street, they wave, I wave back. I am standing in my driveway barefoot, in my work shirt and boxer shorts. - its just one of THOSE things that might lead to THAT kind of day.

Once finally dressed and gone down the road a few miles I notice that my low fuel light is on. I check that handy dandy little gizmo that tell me how many miles till empty and it says 16 miles. Its 23 miles to work and I haven't been driving that long so I will need to stop and get some gas or I am not going to make it. - its just one of THOSE things that is starting to look more and more like the beginning of THAT kind of day.

Upon finally arriving at work I am greeted as I walk in with the news that I missed the first customer of the morning. ( its still not 6 AM yet, who ever got here that early must have an issue) An emergency job has arrived that I must get people working on immediately and takes top priority so that our customer can get back into operation is what is already waiting on me. The company has employees just sitting around until this gets fixed and they can turn their production lines back on. - its just one of THOSE things that is quickly becoming THAT kind of day.

Somehow I manage to survive the work day and its time to head back to the Ol' homestead. I smell like dead cow and pickled cabbage but the work is done, the customers are happy and its time to call it a day. It should be a good evening because its kids night at Skyline Chile. I always take Gracie to Skyline for supper on kids night. This is usually a good time for all parties. Gracie gets a night out with dad and to spend some time with other kids she knows as well as do a craft with her girlfriend Elise (who runs kids night, she just loves Elise) and mom gets a much needed break from the constant chatter that is Gracie. Speaking of constant chatter, on the short car ride to Skyline Gracie informs me that she needs more make up. I foolishly inquire as to why she would need any, let alone more. Well of course its because she is going to be a Rock Star when she grows up. She tells me she is going to be Hannah Montana. (ohhhhhhhhh reeaaally) She tells me she has a band already. Augustine is going to play the piano, Taylor is going to play the guitar and she is going to play the microphone. ( yes she said play the microphone) She already has 'back' singers too. I forget their names but I was trying not to run off the road. Later in life it was brought to my attention that Augustine and Taylor are both boys. I said, no no no no no no no, you cant have a band with just you and two boys, that will just never due. Gracie explained to me that she did have two 'back' singers ( should be backup singers if you don't speak Chinese 5 year old) that were girls so it was okay. I said that she could only do it if she hired me as their manager. After some negotiations I now have a job to look forward to in my retirement. I wonder if this is how it happened with Billy Ray? All goes well with dinner and we come home, cuddle and watch the Good Night Show before I carry her off to bed.

After Gracie is in bed for a bit I notice that I don't hear anything but the light is on in her room. I sneak, as only a Ninja could sneak, to see what the matter is. As I peer around the corner I see her scratching at something on her nightstand. I ask, as any Ninja dad would do, what she is doing. Noth'in was the answer. Rule of parenting number 1, from age 3 or so till forever, if the child answers with Noth'in they are up to someth'in. I walk a bit closer and ask again, the answer changed to , get this, " none of your business". Rule of parenting number 2, from age 3 or so till forever, when a child answers " none of your business" it means it is certainly our business and now I must be filled with all knowledge. I proceed to figure out this minor mystery to my Ninja dad satisfaction anyway and tell my little snookerdoodle to dowse the light and get back in bed. I am then greeted with the following statement, " I dont like it when you get in my bid-ness" I explain that it was my business and I would be in her business for the rest of her life so the sooner she got used to it the better. I explained that I was going to make her bottom my business ( I may have actually said bid-ness here) if she was still sitting up and awake when I got out of the shower.

" I don't like it when you get in my bid-ness"

" I don't like it when you get in MY bid-ness"

- Its just one of THOSE things,

one of THOSE things that has brought to conclusion what turned out to be THAT kind of day.

History of the Urinal

I would first like to thank my faithful readers who commented on my last post. It would appear that at this moment anyway I have three faithful readers, or at least three who are brave enough to confess in public that they enjoy reading this blog. For those of you who read regularly but are not willing to admit it in public, I understand this too. I will now endeavor to pander to the brave souls who were strong enough and courageous enough to leave a comment. The overall consensus is that my readers want more “belly laughs”, one liners that make their husbands choke, and more frequent use of the word urinal. The following shameless pandering is going to be a post devoted almost entirely to the history and mystery of that wonderful invention, the urinal. I hope it is sufficient enough to generate a few belly laughs and a 911 call to remove the lodged pretzel from a certain husband in Texas.

When I first started doing my research into the history of the urinal, I had no idea how controversial and colorful a history the urinal actually had. The life of the urinal is full of stories that one would just not suspect. The first example is this, the urinal was first patented in the US by Andrew Rankin in March of 1866. He was not however the actual inventor of the device. No one seems to know its actual origin, but the stories go back all the way to the Roman Empire. There is a story of an unfortunate Roman soldier on his way home after a campaign abroad who stumbled upon a newly built aquifer. This device that brings water from the hills down into Rome was not there when he left for war many many months ago. Upon finding this trough filled with running water he was amazed and delighted, but as anyone knows, the sound of cool running water causes the urge to urinate to increase dramatically. Not knowing that the water was being sent to the cities baths and even to the palace, he though this would be a fine place to relieve this urge. Unfortunately for him, he was spotted by an extremely offended city engineer who had him hauled before the council. This poor Roman soldier was found guilty, castrated, and used as a eunuch slave for the rest of his days. So begins the story of mans desire to pee standing up into a trough of running water, so begins the sordid tale of the urinal.

The next point of interest in the tale of the urinal would be the period of womens suffrage. Is it a coincidence that the suffrage laws were passed between 1860 and 1890, and that the patent for the urinal was requested in 1866? No says I, and there are a lot of people who would agree with that assessment. The theory has two branches and it goes a little something like this. First theory is that as men began to recognize and fear the degradation and loss of the all boys club they had enjoyed for generations by now, there was a strong and popular movement to hold on to or acquire anything that was solely and uniquely a male bastion. The urinal filled this need. I mean think about it, a place only men could “go”. If you have ever seen a lady attempt to use a urinal, it’s a comically awkward sight at best. (Yes I have, don’t ask!) This fostered the growing popularity of the urinal and brought in the present glory days it now enjoys. The second theory is that Andrew Rankin only filed for the patent, it was invented by a women who was involved in the suffrage movement but was not allowed to file for it herself. She invented it as an idea to torment men by embarrassing them and encouraging them to have to relieve themselves in and awkward and demeaning manner. If this one is true it shows a lack of understanding by women of the male psyche. Men enjoy and relish their ability to “go” standing up, it’s a matter of pride in our manhood. Bishop Eddie Long even made that comment once in a sermon that, “One of Gods greatest gifts to man is the ability to pee outside while standing up” Men teach their sons this fine art, it’s a right of passage for small boys. The urinal allows men to engage in this activity indoors in a more socially acceptable environment. Finding a friendly bush by the side of the road still has some kind of freeing allure to it, but indoors is more appropriate when its possible. If a women invented this device in an attempt to emasculate the Brotherhood of Erect Standing Urinators, (BESU for short) she failed miserably.

The next point of interest in the urinals story comes around 1933. Herbert Clark Hoover, our 31st president was said to have installed the first urinal in Washington D.C. He had it installed in the private lavatory just off the oval office. This event was said to have not been done for civilized, and moral reasons. The rumor was that he did it out of a spiteful nature. Firstly, it was a slap at the resurfacing women’s movement, a small thing just to say that women don’t belong in the White House. The second, or more personal reason was that it was a childish and snarky thing done to aggravate incoming president Franklin D. Roosevelt. As most people are aware today, Roosevelt was in a wheel chair most of the time, which made urinal usage a bit more challenging. The tale is told that FDR being the stubborn prideful man he was, didn’t have it removed and insisted on using it regardless of the obvious issues. The urinal stayed in the oval office until it was removed by the Clinton administration, allegedly at the behest of Mrs. Clinton.

Now the story of the urinal moves to an even darker side. Along comes the civil rights movement. A senator from a southern state put a bill before congress that was to state that urinals were for ‘whites’ only. However, this southern senator, not being the sharpest knife in the drawer, or the brightest crayon in the box, goofed the way he wrote the bill. When the bill was passed into law it stated that urinals were to ‘be’ white only. The supreme court later determined that urinals were to be made from white porcelain and no other color of materials were to be permitted, they assumed that he wanted this for sanitary and hygiene reasons and not for the reasons he really intended. They also added and addendum to permit all stainless steel urinals as well. This would explain why I have seen pink toilets, avocado green and harvest gold toilets, but I have never seen a urinal in any color besides white.
Now we come to the 21st century. Urinals are still a prominent part of our culture as well as our history, but the urinal is ready to make yet another leap forward into the history books. Dr. Richard Deutsch has invented something that will again revolutionize the urinal and help to increase its popularity even further. I am going to print this next section straight from Wikipedia, just so you don’t think I made this up. ( I couldn’t make this up)


The Interactive Urinal Communicator is an advertising device invented by bioengineer Dr. Richard Deutsch for the Islip, New York company Wizmark. The 3.5 inch screen is placed in a urinal to promote products or services. Deutsch commented, "Now when nature calls, there is going to be something entertaining to look at and listen to."

The IUC as I will call it comes in many different styles and uses. It sits in the bottom of a urinal looking like your normal urinal cake ( for the uninitiated, a urinal cake is this small round waxy looking puck that sits in the bottom of urinals that gives off a flowery or fruity scent when water or other liquids run across its surface) One thing people have come to expect is that urinals in public restrooms such as bars, restraunts, and retail establishements use the space in front of the urinal as a small scale billboard and advertize everything from their happy hour special to the one day only sale on golf balls. Well, one of the things the IUC does, is once it becomes either liquid or motion activated it can start playing its audio commercial. That’s right, this high tech urinal cake starts talking to the person who activated it This sidelight is not however the purpose for the good doctors invention. In fact, California may require all alcohol serving establishments to have IUC’s in their restrooms. The reason is that the original design by the doctor created a device that could read the alcohol content of the urine and only activate if the level was an issue. In other words, when the drunk guy bellied up the urinal the IUC would activate and say something like, “ Please give your keys to the bar tender, YOU sir are too drunk to drive tonight” Wizmark (no I didn’t make that up) also markets IUC’s that play music and have flashing lights in them. I can see young boys just going bonkers with that, cant you? Man being what he is, you know its just a matter of time before they sell a version that you can customize with your own message.

I can see it now. Some guy goes into the restroom at a bar in Texas and starts to ‘go’. The next thing he knows he hears the voice of the ‘lady’ bartender say something to him. Now, you know the bartender I am talking about, her voice is made from unfiltered Camels and Tequila with lime. Her name is One Eyed Sally, Cheese Feet Chelsea, or Back Fat Betty or something like that. (Don’t pretend you don’t know Back Fat Betty, shes the one with that prison tattoo poking out on the jiggly flub overhanging the top of the jeans and under hanging the bottom of the thong string whilst not covered by the tube top. You didn’t want to look but you did because she has that train wreck quality, and check the roots, nevermind I digress)

Anyway, Tex is taking a whiz when he hears the voice of Greasy Gretta say, “ Hey there , Big Boy, you don’t need to be driving any, why don’t ya let me give you a ride tonight ?” After Tex is done tripping over himself and whizing all over the place he is gonna end up climbing out a window and walking home. I can also see an increase in UFO reports coming from out west as the flashing lights start turning up in bar urinals, look for it soon on NBC news.

I wonder how well Wizmark stock is doing right now.
Now you know the history of the urinal according to me.