And they walk amungst us...........

The Wilson family went to Paducah Kentucky this past weekend. It was a wonderful road trip. I could spend some time telling you about all the wonderful things we did and all the wonderful people we met, but instead I will just suggest you read about that at my wife Angie's blog. She tells about the trip better than I could.

Instead, I just want to dwell on a few points of interest. Points that didn't even fully sink in until after we had been home a while.

First let me briefly clue you in to why we went to Paducah. We could have gone to see the land between the lakes, or the beautiful scenery, or to go camping, or see some caves. All of these things may have been wonderful, but they are not why we went. We went to Paducah to spend some time with some 'friends'. I use the quotes on purpose in a positive manner. Our 'friends' in Paducah are much much more than just friends, they are some people that we have bonded with and are connected to in a very special and indescribable way. But, I wont go into that bond either, that is not what I want to talk about today.

One of the people we went to visit is a 5 year old little lady named Stevie. Stevie is one of Gracie's Hunan sisters. It is important to us that these little ladies get to spend some time together. Angie and I enjoyed seeing the whole Collins family, mom, dad, and the other three kids, the grandparents and the very special aunt Suzanne. But this isn't about us, its about Gracie and Stevie.

Actually, as I learned later, its not even about Gracie and Stevie. It was all about God and the work of the Holy Spirit. (uh oh, here he goes again!!)

When we arrived in Paducah after an 8 hour trek through the blue grass state, Stevie ran out and grabbed Gracie, they hugged, the loved on each other, and then the two Hunans locked hands and arms and ran away into the house. I would not see my daughter again but briefly for the next several days. Gracie was busy, she was with 'sissy'. They ran, they played, they enjoyed each others company.

What we witnessed in the next few days was pure love, agape love, unconditional love with no expectations, they just wanted to be with each other. When they came together their two little spirits fused into one. They became two little girl bodies sharing one spirit, one Holy Spirit. They were experiencing life the way God intended, purely and innocently. When it was time to leave and they hugged goodbye a few times it was a sad sad sight. As the two little hearts broke and separated back into two spirits there was whaling and sobbing and mournful tears. The love, the bond, the connection that holds these two together is too strong and pure to be anything else but Gods hand. Gracie sobbed and whaled for about 50 miles on the way home. She cried out that she wanted her Stevie. It was truly heartbreaking to her my little boogs so sad. It is truly heartwarming to know that God is attentive to her as to provide her with such a love and bond.

When I say this weekend was about God, this is what I am talking about. Who is God? The scriptures answer this question many times in many ways.

God is Love.......

When you look at these girls you see love, if you look closer you see God's hands all over them. God put Stevie with the Collins family and Gracie with us as part of His plan. We are together so we can teach these girls and raise them in Gods will, and these girls are with us to teach us who God is and that He loves us and provides for us.

Now, to the point of things. Please never forget that God is with us, but also remember that they walk among us. The demons are here and whenever God is pleased with us and His work in us, the devil gets pissed and comes after you.

I have been sharing a story about love, now let me tell you about hate. Let me tell you about the road trip home and what I view as a failure in my faith.

After traveling some 150 miles give or take we reached the end of the Western Kentucky parkway. It was time to get off the east/west corridor and get on a north/south highway. We were traveling in nowhereland western Kentucky and the small crossroads burg that popped up around the interchange was the closest thing to civilization around. You know the kind of thing I am talking about, its pretty much open land except for the 3 gas stations and a truck stop that surround the interchange of the highways. We stop and go inside the BP to use the restrooms. This is when I nearly lost my mind.

Let me remind you briefly of the way my brain works. I have a built in situational awareness meter. I will call it my observ-o-meter. On a scale of 1-10 my observ-o-meter is usually running above average in the 6 range on a normal day on my turf. On road trips, my meter bumps up to a 7-8 range just because. When we walk into this BP my meter spiked like a Geiger counter at a Chernobyl dairy farm. My blood ran from warm plasma to cold adrenaline when I walked through the door.

Every gas station I have ever been in has a rule, no shoes, no shirt, no service. Immediately upon entering this establishment I notice a large male with no shirt. I will now list the next series of observ-o-meter reports.

1. Large male, no shirt
   
2. Hair shorter than mine (IE balder than me)
   
3. Muscles not from working but from working out.
   
4. Large biceps, large chest but no back muscles or shoulders (this means either he has some basic equipment in his basement or he worked out in oh I don't know prison maybe)


5. Large quantity of tattoos. (not wearing a shirt might be to advertise his body art)


6. Tattoos were of a racist nature. (Large swastika across his back, noose on his left arm, Arian Brotherhood across his chest and stomach)
   
7. This is a bad bad man.

My mind went into overdrive instantly. There were about 10 people milling around in this crossroads station. I stepped up to get between my wife and daughter and this guy. He was headed to the fountain to get himself a Slurpee and apparently his situational awareness wasn't as acute as mine because we passed unnoticed. As we reached the bathrooms I put my hand on Angie's shoulder and told her ," don't let go of her, at all!" The guy then paid for his stuff and left. While I was in the men's room I took a few minutes to let my adrenaline level come back down while I pondered what would I have done if he had observed or heaven forbid approached us. I then realized just how tense my muscles had become as they began to ache as the stress level lowered. I also realized that when I blocked his view of my daughter I had let my right hand slide into my pocket to make sure I could reach my 4" Benchmade blade.

I was mentally and physically preparing to roll with this dude. This begs the next question, "what, am I stupid?" In reality if I had brawled with this guy he would have pounded me and my bad shoulder into salt. If I was to pull my blade to remove some of this fools body art I probably would have been bringing a knife to a gun fight, again, stupid. I kept running scenario's through my mind, could I bust his knee and get the family out the door fast enough? Could I depend on the other people around to help me out, most likely not. If a conflict had occurred that room would have cleared faster than a co-ed dorm during a pantie raid. Could I call 911 and get some official help? Most likely no again, I could see Roscoe P Coltrain showing up with Enis in tow to take us both down to visit Boss Hog. I was just feeling lucky that I was able to block his view and avoid any conflict because I don't know how I would have handled it other than to say it would have been ugly and I would have done whatever was needed to protect my daughter.

Now, here is the failure of my faith that I didn't recognize till later.

Even though this bad boy was advertising his hate and his ignorance. Even though he obviously was a victim of the deceiver and his soul been devoured by the devourer. Even though my feeling was that this guy was possessed by a legion of demons like so much swine. I had no need to worry. Worrying has never added even a day to anyones life. I had nothing to fear, God did not provide the spirit of fear. Whilst I was worrying about what I should do, God was directing my steps. While I was fretting about what could happen, God was protecting my daughter. While I was concerned about taking a thumping to protect my family, God had already hidden us from harm. Gracie could have walked through there in a clown suit with big red shoes playing a big base drum and singing the rainbow connection and I don't think the guy would have seen her.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,I will fear no evil: For thou art with me;Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies;Thou annointest my head with oil; My cup runneth over.

This is where I failed in my faith. I should have not feared. I should have not worried. I should have not wondered if we would be protected. I should have known we were not alone instead of hoping we were not alone.

I did not have the faith of even a mustard seed, because if I did I would not have reacted thinking "I" needed to take care of things. I would have known that "we" would have taken care of things. I may have had to be David and the Lord may have given me the strength and wisdom to slingshot a bag of peanut M&M's against his eggbag and drop him to his knees. I may have been called on to give the brother a hug and minister to his broken spirit. I may have been called on to grasp his forehead and cast out a legion of demons Benny Hinn style, (thats Glory on ya, mah) Or, as was the case, the Lord blinded the evil one from even seeing those who belong to Him.

Some of you may read this and think that I am a total nut job. You may be right. Some of you may read this and think that looking back I just believe what I want to believe and that this is not what really happened, and you might be right too. As for me, I can now look back and I believe God intervened to protect Gracie from all harm. I believe this because He was with her all weekend because only God could possibly make two groups of people enjoy each other so very much. Whether I am right, or I am a nut job, I can look back and give God all the Glory, for I truly did nothing.......

Judy Judy Judy

If you watched the above Youtube, you saw Goober doing his impersonation of Cary Grant saying Judy Judy Judy from the movie Only Angels have Wings. The story I have to tell today is that Judy is Goober.......... Not to mention that Judy is not Rita Hayworth.

So, who is Judy you might ask. Judy is the customer service representative from Rumpke that I spoke with yesterday. If you have followed the story of the flies that I detailed in the previous post, you might have noticed that it would be a really really good idea to get that trash can full of rotting matter gone before the maggot population grew enough to become a demographic group all their own.

In light of this, Angie called Rumpke and spoke with Judy. After not getting anywhere, Angie called me and gave me the number and requested that I please handle it. I,as always, am more than willing to chat with the folks in customer service. I mean, after all, I am the customer and they are there to service me, correct?

I called the young lass in customer service to see, oh what could the matter be, and as it turns out, she was of little help to me.

Does anybody remember Fran Drescher?

So Judy, the Fran sound alike, answers the phone and asks what can she do for me. I explain the situation, reminding her that she just spoke with my wife a few minutes ago. To which she replied, yeah.... (yeah, yeah? not yes, not yes sir, not a you are correct or yes I did, but a yeah) Oh we are already off on the wrong foot. So, as I continue, knowing full well she is aware of the situation, the 150lb maggot incubation system parked in my driveway, and I ask her a few simple questions.

One, when my wife asked if you could make an emergency midweek pick up due to the problem we are having, she says that you told her you could, but it might be a few days, you were not sure, and you were not sure how much it would cost, is that correct.

Juday say-ith, Yeah, that's it, I spoke with the supervisor and he said he might be able to get to ii in few days but wasn't sure, and he isn't sure how much the charge would be. We will attempt to make accommodation for you as best as we can.

Ma'am, your not making accommodation for me if you charge me, charging me is fine, as long as you can give me a time and price, but you cant. Your making accommodation for the poor guy who has to pick up the can. Several days from now isn't going to be pretty. Your making accommodation for the rest of the neighborhood who might be your customers, but your not accommodating me.

Next question, you have a separate guy who drops off new cans and picks up old ones. Would this guy be available sooner? I am going to need a new can, of this I am certain.

Juday say-ith The new tote would take 7 to 10 working business days.

Ma'am how about I just cancel my service, would that get the can picked up ?

Juday say-ith. That will also be 7-10 working days. (at this point I wonder what her definition of working is, but maybe its just me)

Okay, Ma'am, just cancel my service and come get the can at your leisure.

Juday say-ith. Okay, if that is what you would like to do, I will schedule a pick up and cancel your service.

Thank you ma'am, and you have a nice day....( bless her heart.....)

Juday say-ith, and you have a nice day too ( I think she just told me off, but that's okay at this point because I have just begun)

About 10 minutes later I call Rumpke's competitor, CSI, and speak to their customer service representative name Simone.

"Good afternoon, this is Simone at CSI, how may I help you today?"

ah the sound of a nice person who seems to at least pretend to want to do her job, how refreshing.

Simone asked for my name and address after I asked her what the cost of her residential service would be. From that point on she referred to me as, ----- Mr. Wilson. (hey MR. WILSON...)

She then asked if she could start my service or if I was just inquiring about price. (notice she used to word inquire, not ask, or axe about the price)

I then took a minute of her time to explain the whole sordid tale as to why I just dumped Rumpke and why I would need to start service with CSI next week. She said, and I quote, "oh my, Mr. Wilson would you please hold a minute and I will see if we have a truck in your area so we can come on by and get that can empty?"

Yes Ma'am I can hold.

A few minutes later she came back and apologized for leaving me on hold (for less than 90 seconds) and said that one of their drivers would be by later that day and empty the can for us. CSI went out of their way to empty the Rumpke can that Rumpke wouldn't empty and not only was I not there customer before now, but they did not even charge me for it. She did say that if this were to happen and I was a regular customer they would be out in 24 hours and there would be a $20 charge, but since I just signed up she would just take care of this unfortunate situation.

KUDOS to Simone. She recognizes what the word 'service' means and when you sell a service you should provide service to the customer because clients pay for the service that in turn pays their salary and gives them a job. What a concept, a concept lost on Juday Juday Juday no doubt.

Within hours, that's right I said hours, CSI should up at my homestead and took the contents of the fly incubation unit off to the land fill.

Now, we are not done yet, not by a long shot. Now I am home and have seen the empty can, with nary a fly in the area. I did see one or two flies in the garage and they looked rather depressed. Kind of like party crashers who had a flat on the way and missed the party. So when I enter my abode I make yet another phone call attempting to seek out Miss Judy. I need to speak with Rumpke one more time for two reasons. First, I need some money back. The trash collection service is paid in three month increments and not only do I have some time left in August, but I have a credit balance that was forwarded to September and I want my cash back. The lady who answers this time is not Judy. I ask to speak to Judy but she is unavailable. I then start the whole story over, but this lady has already heard the story. She is very apologetic on behalf of Mrs. Judy, but I told her that it was too late for that and while she was fine, Mrs. Judy was not at all helpful. I then informed her that Judy had cost them a customer all on her own and I wanted a check back for my overpayment and service not used.

This lady was doing her best, I will give her credit for that. She did all she could do but she told me that since I had a contract I would not be getting a check for the un used service. I explained that this is why I was no longer a customer, Rumpke obviously thinks so little of their customers, and that if she would look at it from the users point of view she would see that we were paying for a service that we would not be receiving. I again give her credit because when it was all said and done, she spoke with her supervisor and got me my money back anyway, as a one time courtesy!

Why thank you Rumpke for your courtesy!!

I have been telling this story over and over to anyone who will give me a moment to listen. I have made one other convert this week. If you use Rumpke, please consider switching to CSI. It is a little more expensive, but at this moment, it is worth the extra cash. I would love to see a mass exodus from Rumpke, maybe they would improve their service if this happened. I don't expect it to, but sometimes you just have to make yourself heard by using your feet and walking away.

You would think that in these difficult economic times, people would bend over backwards to provide service if that's what they are employed to do. I am always surprised by the lack of good customer service in some industries. These are not good times right now, I think some of these places and some of these people may soon find themselves seeking customer service from the government in the form of unemployment checks. I hope they are happy with the level of service they receive from the unemployment office. Having been there once years ago, the bad service providers will get a new frame of reference on what it feels like to receive bad service...

Rant concluded, move along, nothing else to see here......

ya know....

(PSA: proceed with undue caution, you have been warned)

Ya know, today started off pretty normal. It was actually a pretty slow day at work. I had not been overly taxed or burdened and it was a reasonably cool day all things being equal. About lunch time, I sat down and enjoyed my second day of left over Chinese food. I had eaten most of the meat and vegetables already, but now I still had a good lunch size portion of rice. I finished my midday meal and proceeded to go back to my duties whilst waiting for the boss to return with an emergency job that was sure to make my life a little more interesting anyway. Well about 2:30 he returned with a job and a German man to watch me do the job. This is a bit odd but not something I haven't dealt with before. About 2 hours later, an hour past quiting time, I am done and on the way home.

Upon arriving home I walk in and begin to survey my castle. Its 5:30 and I need to feed the dogs and begin my part of cooking dinner, grilled chicken it is tonight. While prepping my chicken I notice an unusual amount of gnats in the area, I swoosh them away and decide to check the dishwasher. Yep, still has old cake plates in there from the party, I decide to load and run the dishwasher. I am figuring that this should cut down the gnat problem a bit. In the last few days I had also noticed an incredible increase in the amount of flies in the house. A friend from Church, Mrs. Dona, suggested that perhaps I needed to consider taking a shower. I think I will try out her idea this evening, but I don't think that is the entire problem.

When I say I noticed and increase in the fly population, I don't mean we have 5 or 6 flies instead of the usual one or two. I mean I hooked up the vacuum cleaner and sucked flies out of the windows. Not dead flies of the window sills either, live , mentally challenged flies buzzing around the window. I know I hosed up 30 or 40 the other day. Yes this seemed odd to me, but I have no logical culprit at the moment, other than maybe I need to take my annual shower a little sooner than planned.

I should also mention here that upon entering my castle through the garage door I noticed the stack of towels that live just outside the living quarters were a little more pungent than usual. There is usually a towel or two that stay outside because the two blind Bichon's who dwell in the castle are not always well potty trained. These towels soak up a couple of pee piles before the king takes them to the dungeon to be bleached and laundered. During these hot summer months you can catch a whiff of 2 day old dog urine in the garage. But today its a little ranker than that. I just do a huff at them and pass them by, quickly.

I have now started the dishwasher and prepped the chicken to be grilled when my lovely assistant Angie comes into the kitchen to lend her man a hand. It is her duty to fix the fixin's to go with the chickens. She observes the stash in the freezer and doesn't find what she is looking for so she goes out to deep freeze which is in the garage right next to the towels full of Fritz pee's. (oh, I think I hurt myself) She opens the lid to look for some corn, but the next phrase is priceless.

HOUSTON WE HAVE A PROBLEM.

What oh my lovely assistant could the matter be, pray tell me what your king might do to alleviate my oh so distressed damsel.

THE FREEZER IS OFF AND SOMETHING SMELLS VERY MUCH BAD OUT THERE. THE FOOD IS ALL RUINED, STANKS, AND ITS FULL OF MAGGOTS.

Maggots you say, I don't like maggots.

So I calmly tell my damsel that I will put my chicken on the grill and go to see what I might do to handle this mess. I, your faithful king, will handle this situation, without even the need of any mighty knights. I casually stroll out to the grill and put my chicken on at about 300 degrees to let it barb-E- Q nice and slow allowing me time to go and handle this little dilemma.

As I stroll out the door into the garage I notice that my lady is correct in her scented assumptions. It does have a bit of a foul odor out here. Its not just Fritz, its the freezer. I then open the lid and the aroma of decay becomes a bit stronger, but still manageable for the manly king that I am. I go and acquire a trash can and pull it up next to the offending odor emanater. I begin to remove the WARM items and put them in the trash. You may notice I mentioned that the items were warm, not cold, not cool, not tepid, WARM, just this side of hot actually. This freezer has been off a good while.

I pluck another item off the top.

and then another,

and then another.

I notice that with each item I remove, the fragrance seems to magically amplify. (or was it ampliFLY)

As the stank increases I notice that my lady mentioned maggots, but I don't see any. (yet)

About 3/4 done removing the items I still am of the mind that I just need to get the rotten food out, let the freezer air out and start over.

The extraction of the 10 pound pork roast changes my mind however. There is something unnatural about a 10 pound roast in your hands being warm and squishy. It wasn't squishy when in went in. I am now to the point where I must lean over into the freezer to pull the items off the bottom.

Now I discover a law of physics. When things defrost they leave behind water. In a trapped environment, the water doesn't evaporate, it just sits. To produce baby flys (IE maggots) one would need three things. Moisture, got it, warmth, got that too, and decaying biological matter, oh, got that as well. I got myself a maggot incubation chamber, about 20 cubic feet worth.

As I reach the bottom of the well, I find the water at the bottom.

First observation, its pink and white and its moving. It even has rhythm. The bottom is a maggot factory, 10 million baby flys all doing the stadium wave at me like they are at a New York Giants game. Maggots in large quantity put off a nice stank.

I stood all I can stands, I cant stands no more (Popeye reference for the younger readers)

I now am lambasted by an uncontrollable wave of nausea. I stuble out the garage to the edge of the building and heave a few hard ones. Now, (you were warned) as Elvis is leaving the building, as I am chundering up my lunch, as I am letting go my Eggo, I make the oh so tragic mistake of looking down. When one is yaking and one looks down one would see ones yak. What was it I had for lunch again, ah yes, rice.....

I will give you a minute to digest that thought for just a moment. (digest, get it, I kill myself)

The King is dead, long live the King......

Okay, move on, nothing to see here, move along ladies and gentlemen, move along.

In my indignant moment, I have chicken on the grill, maggots on my fingers, and previously eaten rice on my toes. Oh, I need to wash my hands, and then flip my chicken.

But first Elvis needs and encore, or two, or three.

So, I am standing in my driveway, puking on my flowerbed, while wearing shorts and no shirt, and a really foul reek coming from inside my garage. I wonder what the neighbors think of that

? Never mind, I don't want to know.

Well, I manage to finish the chicken and let Angie and Gracie eat. Oddly enough, I'm not hungry.

I go back to the garage and make yet another discovery. About a mile away, a fly caught the scent of what was amiss. He then heard me a chundering. He then stopped on a telephone pole and located the scene of this mishap. He then got out his cell phone and twittered all his friends, who twittered their friends, and so on, and so on, and so on. As I round the corner I hear a jet plane, no, maybe a Huey helicopter, no maybe a caravan of Harley's, oh no, just 10 million exuberant flies. It was like a scene from a bad B movie. You could HEAR them swarming.

When it was all said and done the freezer was bleached, cleaned with apple scented dish soap, berry scented arm and hammer and hosed out thoroughly and scrubbed to a nice shine.

The trash can however has a 150 pounds worth of fly bait inside, and it is working well.

Rumpke has been called, they might want to get to us quickly. Tonight is karaoke night in the trash can, tomorrow is shuffleboard. By the time trash day comes next week I figure the can will have walked off all on its own.

another episode of Gracie-isms

Sunday night was a rough one at the Wilson house. Gracie has been going to bed a little earlier each week as we work back towards school time sleeping hours. She has been less than enthused by this endeavor. She had gotten used to going to bed late, between 9 and 10:30 and not having a nap most days meant she was exhausted and just dropped. Well, in changing this arrangement, she is not stumbling to bed, therefore she must not be ready to sleep yet, right? Well, not being nearly unconscious before hitting the sack has left her with time to think (and scheme) before going to sleep. One of the unfortunate results of this is that she has started claiming to be to scared to sleep, or at least to sleep in her own bed. She has refused to sleep at all until one of us goes to bed and even then, she wants to crawl in with us before she is willing to be done.

The reason she gives...........BAD DREAMS.

Well, all kids have bad dreams once in a while. This is normal. We have a full arsenal of defenses against bad dreams. We have Monster B Gone spray (which is really a bottle of nice smelling Febreze, you know monsters don't like fresh flowery smells and Gracie's' do) We have the quiet loving talks to assure her that there is nothing to be afraid of. We have "go to sleep before I spank you and poke out my own eyes" talk. When things get really really bad, we call on the Divine to intervene.

Sunday was really really bad, so Angie and I prayed over Gracie in her bed and asked Jesus to watch over her and asked God to send some Angels to stay at her bedside to keep any bad dreams from coming to her as she slept. This usually works because now she feels like she is not alone anymore, and usually she calms down and sleeps. This night however, was not the normal night. In order for this to work, she must calm down and then sleep. She calmed down, but she didn't go to sleep. The Angels cant keep bad dreams from coming while your awake little Miss Gracie, but sleep was not in the cards just yet.

I pulled a new card out of the pile to try this night. I went in her room and took a pillow off her bed and crashed down in the floor. My hope was that I could crash there and talk with her a while until she faded off to sleep, and then turn her over to the Divine sword wielding protectors and go back to my bed to catch what at this point would be too few Z's.

Again, my plan was thwarted because Gracie was calm and willing to talk, but not willing to sleep. So, we talked, and talked, and talked some more. She was painfully logical in her reasoning, as most kids can be.

Daddy, if I cant sleep in your bed, why do Bo and Fritz, ( the two blind Bichons in the house) get to sleep in your bed?

Well, sweetheart, there are some differences between you and them. First, they cant see. Bo keeps falling down the stairs so we keep him squished up between the pillows so he knows where we are and doesn't wonder around looking for us at night. Fritz sleeps pretty much wherever he wants to, he is on the couch right now and will end up in the bedroom floor later, he doesn't fall down the stairs like Bo does. And, in case you forgot, Bo and Fritz are dogs, your a little girl. Its not appropriate for little girls to sleep in the bed with their parents. You have your own room, with your own bed, and your own stuff. Okay? ( Now I knew better than to say okay, but I did it anyway)

Daddy, why cant I just sleep wherever I want like Fritz does then.

Because honey, Fritz is a dog.

I wish I were a puppy, don't you wish you were a puppy too daddy, puppies are so lucky, they get to do whatever they want, and everybody is always loving on them and petting them, nobody ever pets me?

No, if we were puppies, we would have to eat that stinky food, all we would ever get to drink is water. We would have to pee outside......

In the rain, in the snow, and when its cold outside?

Yes sugar, in the rain, snow, sleet, smog, and wind, with no shoes on even. And your mom and dad love on you all the time.

Yes, daddy, but you only pet my hair sometimes, mommy only pets my back sometimes.

I will start petting your back too boogs', Okay? (dang, asked it again?)

Don't you wish you didn't have to go to work daddy? Don't you wish you could just stay home and play all the time with me?

Well, yes and no. I do wish I didn't have to work, but I need to so I can pay for the stuff that you need.

Like my bed, our house, and stuff, so we don't have to live in a box and eat dirt?

Yes Shug, so we don't have to live in a box and eat dirt...

( the don't you wish game has started)

Don't you wish you where a fish?

No, then I would live in a bowl and just watch everybody pass by.

Don't you wish you where a booger, a booger in a tiara who married a tree? (not so muffled giggles)

Okay, Gracie, enough of the silliness. Its late, I have to get up in a few hours now and go to work, please be quiet and go to sleep.

Okay daddy... brief pause..... Don't you wish you where a pastor like Pastor Tim, then you would only have to work on Sunday's...

( I snorted)

It doesn't work that way Gracie. Look, I need some sleep before I go to work. I am already past the point that I will be grumpy tomorrow.

Your gonna be a grumpy hippopotamus?

Yes, a very grumpy hippo.

At this point (3:30 AM) I go to bed (again) for about an hour give or take. Gracie comes in and gives me a hug at 4 AM. Then again at 4:30. At 4:45 I get up. She crawls in our bed, I get dressed and leave for work. She is the Victor (hail to the victor, hail hail hail)

Tomorrow night, I have a plan. No sleep for daddy, no playing for Gracie........

Ya, know, the most annoying part of the whole thing was the catalyst. I asked Gracie, what was it that she was dreaming about, scared of or whatever. It was the talking picture of the Mona Lisa she saw on a cartoon that morning. The Mona Lisa kept me (and her) up all night.

My attitude towards the French just got a little worse me thinketh.........

The Don

"Miss Universe Dayana Mendoza is appearing topless in the September issue of Maxim magazine, on stands August 18, with the full support of her pageant (they gave Maxim the photos!), "

Ya know, it cant be just me that finds this to be something of a sad comedy. Has Donald Trump, aka ' The Don' really taken the 'classy' and 'prestigious' pageant industry into the smut tank? ( tongue plowed into cheek with the last statement) Has the beautiful and pristine pageantry of the pageant been tarnished forever? Can we ever watch this epic struggle performed by these tough and classy ladies and not have the thought, ' I wonder if she's the trashy one' pop into our heads. I thinketh not. Dayana Mendoza asked permission from The Don to do this topless ad and not only did he give his almighty permission, ("One day I will call on you to do me some service" Uttered in my best Brando persona) but he also provided the photo shoot and the pictures to Maxim for the ad. (Thanks Don, how selfless of you)

I know some of you out there might be fans of the pageant circuit. Some of you might like the Miss Universe, Miss Teen, Miss County, Miss state and even the Miss and Mrs. America stuff. Some of you no doubt have entered you daughters and babies in local affairs called Beauty contests. To you I say that it is your right as an American to have your opinion and I encourage you to do so. If you enjoy this sort of thing, more power to you. If you like to watch, participate, or put your kids in these things, I have no problem with that, its a free country (for now) and this is socially acceptable to most people.

As you may have guessed by my opening commentary, I am not a fan of pageant anythings or beauty contests of any sort. I personally think they are too lame to be entertaining. I find them to be just a wee bit demeaning towards women. I find them a little prehistoric in their nature and think they foster negative things like vanity. (hoping off soapbox now) Now, having said that, I dont think should be be censored or disallowed or anything Puritanical like that, but I do think that if enough people step into modern culture they will fade away due to lack of interest and viewership.

The only purpose I had in posting about this was the comedic irony I found in the fact that what has always billed itself to be the wholesome family values applied pageant has come out of the closet and shown their true colors. This pageant has de-crowned a few winners when it is later discovered that they posed nude, topless, or behaved in some other demeaning manner. But, oh, but now we have The Don as a co-owner, not only giving permission, but providing the pictures. Delicious irony.

The second irony is the American Culture. We as Americans are all but unique in that we sexualize the female breast to begin with. Most other cultures do not view this in such a way. This goes back to our Puritanical roots. ( Hey, I used Puritan references twice in one post, woot!) When you look at this through that lens, it becomes even more ironic. I dont think anyone can look at these photos however and not view them as the classic "sex sells" advertisement scheme. These pictures are sexy and are meant to be sexual.

As far as I am concerned, if these ladies want to strut their stuff to the masses, let them. I wont be watching, but thats just me. Also, they should be aware that in today's market place the pageants target audience is 14 year old pimple faced boys alone in their rooms with the lights out eating Cheetos!!!

As for me, I prefer a strong woman who is happy with who she is and the rest of the world just needs to stay out of her way. I dont much care for the prim and proper kittens who feel the need to overdue the vanity and allow themselves to be used and objectified in such a way.

ruff lately?

In the world of celebrities, it has been rough lately. Whether you like them or not, our culture has suffered the loss of several icons in the last few months. We lost Michael Jackson rather suddenly and his death is still quietly being investigated searching for foul play or incompetence. His life, even in passing, is still shrouded in mystery, speculation, rumor, and family drama. There is even a conflict about who pays some of the HUGE bills associated with his passing. Its insane, but as a culture, we are pretty bi-polar so I shouldn't be surprised.

Then we had the equally as sudden loss of Billy Mays. This is the guy everybody knew, but not everybody knew his name. He was, 'the' pitch man. This man made a living making us know the names of the products he was hocking. It didn't matter if you like the product, or if you liked the guy, you knew the name of what he was selling. Everybody knows Oxyclean, Orange Glo, Kaboom, etc. He passed with much less drama and fanfare, but his loss will be noticed by our culture as another icon passing.

Next you have the sudden tragedy. Steve 'Air' McNair is found dead. His death was sudden due to bullet wounds. Allegedly found in a car with his girlfriend, (not his wife). As far as I have heard, the investigation continues. It is suggested as a murder, suicide. How this happened is not the real issue in the long term. To call him an icon outside the fan base of his team might even be a bit of a stretch, but the sad part is that another football player, another so called roll model for young men, has departed this life violently and with a substantial tarnishing of his name. I hope the families of the young men who followed 'Air' are able to appropriately deal with this situation and guide their sons in the right direction.

The passing of Walter Cronkite was especially sad and poignant. This guy was not just an icon, he was the first and last of his breed. The term 'anchorman' was coined for him, literally. Once he took the helm in the job that most people my age remember him in, the term anchorman came into vogue as the description of what his job was. He took his job serious, he did it wonderfully and honestly. In fact, in many places in Europe, the position he held is named Cronkitors instead of anchors or broadcasters. He is what I would call the last American journalist. The jokers running around today can never compare to him because they are too interested in sharing their opinions and not interested enough in just giving us the facts. In their defense however, part of the issue is systemic. In Cronkites day, there was no such thing as 24 hour news networks. He may be the greatest loss in our society in recent memory, but the fact that there were no more real journalist around to mourn his passing is even a greater tragedy.

And the one you missed. The Taco Bell dog, Gidget, has passed. Gidget was euthanized last month. Gidget was the logo dog and spokes dog for Taco Bell until a lawsuit was brought against them. The lawsuit was lost by Taco Bell to the tune of over 30 million dollars. Gidget on the other hand lived a fat and sassy life until the end. Gidget was the icon of her day. One thing that does stand out though is that I have always wondered why advertisers use girl dogs and give them boy names and boy voices. I guess its just not for me to understand these things.


If all this trauma to our culture wasn't enough devastation, another era has ended. This time not with a death however, but with a retirement. John Madden has retired. The Turkey Bowl will never be the same. I may just have to find something else to do on Thanksgiving since I wont get to hear his voice anymore. John Madden, former Raiders coach and the voice of the NFL for something like 35 years has decided to spend some time with his wife and his grand kids. John, you will be missed, but please please please get your butt home and off that bus and enjoy those grand kids.

That's all I got to say about that..............