Football played a significant role in my childhood between the ages of about 9 and 15. I acquired my first "genuine leather" football for Christmas in 1969. It was an official Ted Williams signature brand and it came from our local Sears Catalog store, located on Kings Highway-now a Chevrolet dealership. Ted Williams was a baseball player, but in the 60's Sears and Roebuck paid Ted for the use of his name and apparently put it on all of their sporting goods related merchandise until celebrities like Martha Stewart and Oprah Winfrey came along. I'm not an expert on Sears, but my Mom worked there for about 25 years, so and I recall a fair amount of related details.
I received a football helmet that same Christmas which also came from Sears. It was white with double red stripes running front to back down the center of the helmet. I was the only kid in our neighborhood with a helmet and the other kids sometimes complained if I wore it during one of our frequent games in Jim Ballentine's back yard. Apparently, it put them at a competitive disadvantage if I wasn't as concerned as they were about running head first into one of Mrs. Ballentine's 2 cast iron clothes line poles. My Ted Williams football, however, was a huge hit. I couldn't begin to count the number of touchdowns scored with that football-probably a thousand or more.
Before the Christmas of 1969, we played neighborhood ball with Ballentine's Voit football, made from extra hard industrial strength synthetic rubber. Jim's Mom was a gym teacher at the high school and his Dad was the Vice Principal as well as a former coach. As a result, they always had plenty of sporting equipment laying around. I don't know for sure where they got that darn football, but when Big Jim wound up and whacked you in the head with it at point blank range, you didn't forget it!
When we were kids, my little brother Mark and I used to play in the side yard at our Uncle Pat and Aunt Katherine's house in Jefferson City. I was 4 years older and a lot bigger at the time, so I'd play on my knees to make it more fair.
Unlike most towns today where kids start playing full contact football as soon as they can walk, we didn't have tackle football in Rolla until the 7th grade. We did have intramural flag football that pitted the 3 primary local elementary schools against each other in interscholastic competition (I heard about other ancillary elementary schools in Rolla like Eugene Field and Benton, but no one I knew attended either of these schools or even knew for sure whether or not the schools actually existed).
There were 2 flag football leagues-5th grade and 6th grade. We played several games each Fall at Green Acres Park, located just down from the main cemetary and across the street from the Delano gas station.
As a side note, the Delano gas station was owned and operated by the oldest set of twins I'd ever came across while growing up. These 2 guys were probably in their mid 30's at the time I started driving. I'd stop in every few days to put 5 or 6 bucks worth of gas in my car at their self service pump-a relatively new idea in 1975. I don't know what I thought became of twins when they grew up, but apparently I thought they stopped looking like each other. These guys didn't stop.
At the end of the elementary football season, the championship games were played at the high school under the lights There was a 5th grade boys championship and the 6th grade boys championship (girls were not allowed to play organized football in the 70's and boys were not allowed to play with dolls-unless of course the dolls were GI Joe or Johnny West and you didn't get caught playing with one past the 3rd grade or so).
Aside from a few basketball tournament title games, the only championship game I was ever personally a part of, was the "Rolla Elementary School 6th grade Intramural Flag Football Championship of 1971". As a young kid I'd watched several high school football games sitting under the lights at Lions Memorial Field and dreaming of some day myself being out there. I'll never forget the feeling of running out under those lights in front of my Mom and Dad, brothers, a small handful of class mates, and the parents of some of my friends. From the perspective of a 12 year old small town kid, I felt like The Rolla Boys and I were on a big time stage that night. I'm confident Johnny Unitas couldn't have felt much differently when he ran out onto the field at the Orange Bowl in Super Bowl V of that same year.
As if things could possibly get any better for me that night, I caught a long touchdown pass in the second half from our quarterback Randy Warrenton (it's my understanding that Randy still holds a tie with my brother Larry for being the biggest kid in history to graduate from Fort Wyman Elementary). Randy could throw the ball a mile as well as run like the wind. He probably could have just ran the ball himself and scored on every other play, but taking his Que from Broadway Joe "Willy" Namoth of the New York Jets, he knew there was more glamour in throwing the ball than in running it. As a result, he threw the ball a big part of the time. This wasn't good for our running backs Beaver Moses and Rick Milner, but they caught their fair share of passes as I recall.
I caught the ball on the run over my shoulder and when I looked down field I saw only one kid between me and the end zone. I'll never forget the look on his face as he focussed all his attention on the two red flags flapping in the wind from the belt around my waist. He was wearing gloves and a stocking cap and as I tried to run around him, he fell down on his knees and reached out with both hands, grabbing at my flags. It felt like he pulled both of them loose but I didn't hear Coach Wilson or Coach Whitick blow their whistle, so I kept running. When I hit the end zone and realized both of my flags were in tact, I couldn't believe it. I had actually scored a touch down in the Championship game, and it was an awesome feeling. I recall running back to the guys and jumping around giving each other "5's" (not high 5's as the high 5 wouldn't be invented for several more years-just the original old horizontal 5) and it was wonderful! It was the coolest thing to happen to me personally in my budding sports career.
The score went back and forth the entire game and late in the 4th quarter we found ourselves down by less than a touchdown (we didn't kick field goals in Rolla grade school football, so each extra point attempt was either a run or a pass).
It was a classic ending. We had the ball on about their 15 yard line, with just enough time on the clock for one final play. Randy of course called a pass-the classic "Everyone out", which in our play book meant everyone except the center and maybe the guards went out for a pass. The open man that night wound up being my old buddy, Larry Hodgey. Randy yelled out the predictable, "Down, set, hut" and we all took off running in the basic direction he told us to while we were in the huddle. I was covered and apparently so were Beaver, Rick, David and Shorty Harris. As I ran around on the left side of the end zone trying in vain to get open, I looked over and saw Larry standing there in the middle of the end zone absolutely wide open. Randy rared back and let fly with one of the sweetest spirals I'd ever seen him throw. The ball sailed threw the air as if on a rope. The perfect pass from my old buddy Randy, hit the sure handed Hodgey right in the middle of his chest. Oh the sweet, sweet feel of victory. How the Wyman girls would swoon and fawn the next day at school (and maybe even a few Mark Twain girls the next time we went to a show at 'The Uptown Theater'). I would probably have my choice between "going with" the famous Carrie Milner or the fabulous Vicki Volts. We'd be league champions of the Rolla Elementary grid iron. All those days playing football down on 'The Field' were now finally paying off. But these visions of granduer would prove to be premature. Randy's perfect pass hit Larry in the middle of his chest. As he attempted to wrap the ball up in his 11 year old arms, it bounced threw his hands and fell slowly but surly to the ground immediately at his feet.
The whislte blew, the other team started their championship celebration and poor Larry stood there, dejected and stairing at the dead ball laying on the end zone turf immediately at his feet. We just walked off the field, without fan fair and without saying anything. The first loss of our final season of elementary school flag football began to sink in.
It would'nt be the last time we'd taste the agony of defeat in an interscholastic event. But up to that moment, it was the most gut wrenching loss any of us had experienced in sports competition.
The Rolla Boys went through a character building experience that evening, and we all lived to tell about it. I wonder how many of my old buddies remember our championship game, on that fall evening of 1971? I don't think I'll ever forget it!
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Monday, December 13, 2010
The Rolla Boys™-Chapter 8
It wasn't long before we heard a vehicle rumbling up the drive. Howard had called to let us know he and Cool wouldn't be in until sometime around 9 p.m., so we knew it must be our good old friend Vic DaWatt from Denver. The last time either of us had seen Vic was 5 years earlier at our 20 year high school reunion in Rolla. We were looking forward to spending a couple days listening to tales of Vic's former grid iron escapades at RHS and William Jewel College, where Vic played football for 4 years and occasionally attended a class.
When I'd contacted Vic a couple months earlier about coming down, I honestly figured he wouldn't make it. Vic lives in Denver, Colorado with his lovely wife Karen and their 2 boys, where Vic is Director of Admissions for a prestigious university. With busy work schedules, family activities and the logistics of getting from Denver to Barry County, I just figured something would come up at the last minute that would keep him from attending our get together. But there he was in his sock footed sandals, climbing out of the Chevy Cobalt he'd rented in Springfield, Missouri. As always, he looked relatively awake, very relaxed, and ready for a weekend of no plans and no expectations.
We unloaded Vic's car and put his bags inside the cabin next to the gun safe. After a quick stop off at the commode, Vic found an empty chair on the deck where he, Beav and I spent the next couple hours eating Ranch Chile, drinking mostly non-alcoholic beverages, and catching up on what had been going on recently in our individual world's.
The subject came up of how Beav and I had first met Victor, and we both remembered it vividly. I first became aware of Vic DaWatt's existence on the 15th day of August, 1973-the first day you could legally start torturing kids in the state of Missouri under the guise of "football practice". It was also the day we met the new rookie football coach for the Rolla Junior High Bull Pups, Coach Theodore Arthur. I don't know who impressed me more; the new kid from Springfield who would quickly become the new star running back for our 8th grade football team, or the new Coach, who would eventually become the Principle at our old Junior High School. In any event, both these guys were cool and in their individual ways made great additions that summer to my ever changing 13 year old world.
When I'd contacted Vic a couple months earlier about coming down, I honestly figured he wouldn't make it. Vic lives in Denver, Colorado with his lovely wife Karen and their 2 boys, where Vic is Director of Admissions for a prestigious university. With busy work schedules, family activities and the logistics of getting from Denver to Barry County, I just figured something would come up at the last minute that would keep him from attending our get together. But there he was in his sock footed sandals, climbing out of the Chevy Cobalt he'd rented in Springfield, Missouri. As always, he looked relatively awake, very relaxed, and ready for a weekend of no plans and no expectations.
We unloaded Vic's car and put his bags inside the cabin next to the gun safe. After a quick stop off at the commode, Vic found an empty chair on the deck where he, Beav and I spent the next couple hours eating Ranch Chile, drinking mostly non-alcoholic beverages, and catching up on what had been going on recently in our individual world's.
The subject came up of how Beav and I had first met Victor, and we both remembered it vividly. I first became aware of Vic DaWatt's existence on the 15th day of August, 1973-the first day you could legally start torturing kids in the state of Missouri under the guise of "football practice". It was also the day we met the new rookie football coach for the Rolla Junior High Bull Pups, Coach Theodore Arthur. I don't know who impressed me more; the new kid from Springfield who would quickly become the new star running back for our 8th grade football team, or the new Coach, who would eventually become the Principle at our old Junior High School. In any event, both these guys were cool and in their individual ways made great additions that summer to my ever changing 13 year old world.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
The Rolla Boys™-Chapter 7
As Beave and I relaxed on the deck awaiting the arrival of Victor, Kevin and Howard, we continued sharing stories about our youth. Recalling our days at Wyman, we talked about how much we enjoyed running around on the asphalt playground, littered with a broad assortment of metal objects and structures, placed strategically by the custodial staff to maximize tripping and falling. We actually had a piece of play ground equipment called THE TOWER. It was a 15 foot tall metal structure made out of World War II scrap metal purchased from Warren Deany's local military surplus yard, and painted a brilliant crimson red (apparently it was painted red so when kids fell off of it and busted their heads open, the blood wouldn't leave discernible stains on the equipment). The tower steps were comprised of rusty, sagging metal chains bolted to the tower legs. The chains made it somewhat difficult for even the non chubby kids to climb the full 15 feet to the top. If you did manage to complete the dangerous climb and pull yourself up onto the platform before one of the 6th graders could push you off, you had a 360 degree view of the entire school grounds, including "The Field".
The Field was where we played tackle football during recess (for you younger folks, back in the 60's in Rolla, Missouri, you could get away with playing tackle football in grade school without pads, without helmets, and without the fear of getting sued for accidently knocking out another kids tooth or breaking his collar bone). Kids were tough back then, as evidenced by the actions of my friend Gordon Startle who played recess football with his arm in a cast (I think he broke it falling off the tower). He cold cocked me with it one time during an after lunch game, which resulted in the only serious fight I personally ever found myself in while attending Wyman. Neither of us landed a hard punch and we were friends again by the time the bell rang to come back inside.
When I think about the asphalt playground; the tower; the pole; the highly feared 15 foot tall curvey apparatus with horizontal bars for climbing up and over (which only 9 guys were ever able to do without having to be "sent up" to see the school nurse to have a few stitches put in their scrotum); the 13 foot long by 8 inch tall metal balance beam (the number 1 tripping hazard for grade school kids in the 60's, designed by dentist and pediatritions); the vertical 4 foot cast iron poles for jumping over with the objective of not racking yourself to death, and the 40 foot slide surrounded by ashpalt and concrete, it strikes me that our grade school playground 'then' closely resembles the training course used 'now' by the Navy Seals. Man how things have changed.
The Field was where we played tackle football during recess (for you younger folks, back in the 60's in Rolla, Missouri, you could get away with playing tackle football in grade school without pads, without helmets, and without the fear of getting sued for accidently knocking out another kids tooth or breaking his collar bone). Kids were tough back then, as evidenced by the actions of my friend Gordon Startle who played recess football with his arm in a cast (I think he broke it falling off the tower). He cold cocked me with it one time during an after lunch game, which resulted in the only serious fight I personally ever found myself in while attending Wyman. Neither of us landed a hard punch and we were friends again by the time the bell rang to come back inside.
When I think about the asphalt playground; the tower; the pole; the highly feared 15 foot tall curvey apparatus with horizontal bars for climbing up and over (which only 9 guys were ever able to do without having to be "sent up" to see the school nurse to have a few stitches put in their scrotum); the 13 foot long by 8 inch tall metal balance beam (the number 1 tripping hazard for grade school kids in the 60's, designed by dentist and pediatritions); the vertical 4 foot cast iron poles for jumping over with the objective of not racking yourself to death, and the 40 foot slide surrounded by ashpalt and concrete, it strikes me that our grade school playground 'then' closely resembles the training course used 'now' by the Navy Seals. Man how things have changed.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
The Rolla Boys™- Chapter 6-B
I should note that Miss McCutcheon was actually more than a pretty face-she was an all around excellent 4th grade teacher. I'm confident I learned as much that school year as I did any other. In addition to the teachers I personally had at Fort Wyman, we were fortunate to have a number of other fine teachers as well-teachers like Mrs. Wixon; Miss Woods; Mrs. Beyers; Mrs. Wright; Miss VanBibber; Mrs. Barry; Mrs. Jones; Mrs. Whitney; our music teacher Mrs. Vickers, and of course that doggone school nurse I was so deathly afraid of. I spent the better part of 5 years of my life hiding from that woman. Our school nurse actually wore a white, standard issue hospital nurses dress uniform, carried an assortment of tongue depressors in her pocket (which she was apparently authorized to shove in your mouth for any reason and at anytime she saw fit), wore a stethoscope around her neck, and if that wasn't enough to scare you to death, she topped all that off with one of those old style nurses hats-you know, like the ones they used to wear on General Hospital. If you were "sent up" to see her one on one, it probably meant one of 3 things: she was going to give you a shot, pull a tooth, or stitch up your scrotum. I can't for my life recall her name, but I'll never forget her face, or that ever present smell of alcohol (isopropyl-not Jack Danials). And I can tell you this: she could clear a hallway of an unauthorized gathering faster than Mrs. Wixon with her 3 foot long paddle with holes (the one she kept in the coat closet). The only thing that worked faster at clearing a room than sending in the school nurse, was for someone to yell out, "Double Recess".... and I think that only happened once.
Friday, December 3, 2010
The Rolla Boys™- Chapter 6
Wyman Elementary School is where I met and became life long friends with not only Beaver Moses, but also the likes of Rick Milner, Randy Warrenton, Larry Hodgey and a host of other Goomers, most of whom I've had only speratic contact with since our years in Rolla. I started school at Wyman Elementary in the 2nd grade in 1967, after having spent 2 years across town in the 1st grade at Mark Twain (actually Mark Twain Elementary was a fine school, but old loyalties die hard and I'll always be a Wyman man at heart).
I loved all my teachers in grade school, starting with Miss Gribz in the 2nd grade; Mrs. Shackelford in the 3rd; as mentioned Miss McCutcheon in 4th; Mrs. Rutherford in the 5th, and finally, Mrs. Less in the 6th (her son David was one of my good friends and a nice school "asset" when good plans went afoul).
Elementary school was great for most if not all of the Rolla Boys as far as I know, but I find myself remembering the 4th grade as one of those moments in time. It was essentially "Elementary Camelot". Not only were Beaver, Rick, Randy, Larry, Steve Patter, Brent Moyerstone, Harold Dunnstreet, Tommy Williamson, Shorty Harris and David Lester in my class, we also had a host of pretty girls like Gretchen Fine, Vickie Volts, Carrie Milner and numerous others. The fact we had a teacher who was surly the prettiest and nicest teacher in the 8 state area, was a major bonus. I don't remember voting on the issue of how "Hot" Miss McCutcheon was, but if we had, I'm pretty sure we would have voted her "The Teacher Most Likely To Be Fantisized About" in junior high. As memory serves me, this was her first teaching assignment out of College. Not that it mattered to us-I don't think we would have cared whether or not she could read or write, as long as she stood in front of the class every day and let us look at her and watch her talk.
She actually could read, however, and did just that for about 10 minutes or so nearly every afternoon when we finished up with lunch and recess. One of the books I vividly recall her reading to the class was Charlotte's Web, by acclaimed author E.B. White. I remember her in a mini-skirt standing in front of the class reading that darn book. (I can't be certain how often Miss McCutcheon wore a mini skirt to school, but I know for sure she did on at least one occasion-it was blue.) All the while she displayed perfect posture and her signature dimpled smile. To our amusement, she would often times laugh out loud at the antics of Wilbur the pig, Charlotte the spider and Templeton the rat.
I've often wondered whether or not she realized at the time the lasting impact she'd have on the kids she taught that school year; those who were fortunate enough to be drafted into her inaugural 4th grade class in the late Summer of 1969. I know she had a profound impact on me. If I live to be a hundred, I'll never forget that blue dress!
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
The Rolla Boys™- Chapter 5
"Russell D, ya Ol' Codger-man it's good to see ya", yelled the Beav as he jumped out of his Jinx mobile before it had a chance to come to a complete stop.
Steven Ray Moses had picked up more than one mannerism from his Dad Lou while growing up on Lynwood Drive, in a home that had perhaps the coolest and now most storied basement in all of Phelps County. One of those mannerisms was saying things like, "You old codger" or "You old farmer". If I live to be a hundred, I'll always remember Lou Moses making me feel welcome at their home every single one of the hundreds of times I visited there, beginning when Beav's Mom Jeanine was my Cub Scout Den Mother in 1967, and ending as I recall sometime in the fall of 1977, around the beginning of our senior year at RHS. I couldn't begin to count the number of times I spent the night at the Moses home, played touch football in their sloped and relatively short back yard, or stopped by on Friday nights to pick up the Beav before heading off to watch the latest John Wayne movie at "The Uptown Theater", or to get pizza at Tim's in preparation for cruising the strip to look for girls; girls as I recall we seemed to rarely find. I don't know for sure where all the girls were when we went looking for them in 1975-1978, but apparently they were someplace other than anxiously waiting along Pine Street for us to come driving by so they could jump in our car and throw themselves at us. Although this is how I envisioned it when I was 14 and dreaming about "getting my license", I don't recall it ever actually happening-not even one time. Though at the time, our consistent inability to find girls was frustrating, I know now I'd rather have all the other wonderful memories of growing up in Rolla, such as those that involved the Moses family, who resided very happily all those years at 1127 Lynwood Drive.
After exchanging welcomes and good to see you's at the front gate, I hopped on my 4-wheeler and told Beav to follow me back to the cabin. I took it kind of slow on our way in to give my old buddy a good look around at our little slice of woodland pie, beautifully situated essentially in the middle of Barry County nowhere.
We arrived at the cabin within a short couple of minutes, with enough daylight remaining to get my old buddy unloaded, shown around and situated with a steaming hot cup of "Black as the Ace of Spades Ranch Coffee", before the sun began it's nightly descent on Butler Holler.
As I stood in the kitchen slicing onions, opening cans of tomato sauce and kidney beans, and browning vast quantities of extra fat hamburger, Beav and I began updating each other on the various going's on in our respective lives over the past several years. It takes a while to prepare a near perfect pot of Ranch Chili, and as I diced, sliced and stirred, we shared stories and opinions on a wide variety of subjects; everything from how great each of our wives were, to how proud we both were of our kids and numerous other topics pertaining to family life and related matters. It didn't take long however, for the two of us to find our way to the front deck and for our conversation to find it's way back to the specific time in history, when we actually started becoming good friends. As we both fondly recalled, It was the day after Labor Day, Tuesday September 2, 1969. The specific place was what became our mutual 4th grade class at Fort Wyman Elementary School (a veritable bastion of decency and All-Americanism).
Although I didn't realize it on that hot September morning as I said good-by to Mr. Davis and stepped off bus #11 before walking through the front door of my school, as I'd done numerous times the previous 2 years, this would not be a normal first day of school. It was a day that would go down in the personal history of several Rolla Boys as perhaps their most significant first day of school ever. This was the day a very select group of 9 year old snot nosed boys became, in their eyes, men. It was the day we all met our new 4th grade teacher; the fabulously beautiful and very sophisticated, Miss Caroline McCutcheon. Upon seeing her for the first time, I knew immediately, she definitely was NOT my Dad's 4th grade teacher!
Steven Ray Moses had picked up more than one mannerism from his Dad Lou while growing up on Lynwood Drive, in a home that had perhaps the coolest and now most storied basement in all of Phelps County. One of those mannerisms was saying things like, "You old codger" or "You old farmer". If I live to be a hundred, I'll always remember Lou Moses making me feel welcome at their home every single one of the hundreds of times I visited there, beginning when Beav's Mom Jeanine was my Cub Scout Den Mother in 1967, and ending as I recall sometime in the fall of 1977, around the beginning of our senior year at RHS. I couldn't begin to count the number of times I spent the night at the Moses home, played touch football in their sloped and relatively short back yard, or stopped by on Friday nights to pick up the Beav before heading off to watch the latest John Wayne movie at "The Uptown Theater", or to get pizza at Tim's in preparation for cruising the strip to look for girls; girls as I recall we seemed to rarely find. I don't know for sure where all the girls were when we went looking for them in 1975-1978, but apparently they were someplace other than anxiously waiting along Pine Street for us to come driving by so they could jump in our car and throw themselves at us. Although this is how I envisioned it when I was 14 and dreaming about "getting my license", I don't recall it ever actually happening-not even one time. Though at the time, our consistent inability to find girls was frustrating, I know now I'd rather have all the other wonderful memories of growing up in Rolla, such as those that involved the Moses family, who resided very happily all those years at 1127 Lynwood Drive.
After exchanging welcomes and good to see you's at the front gate, I hopped on my 4-wheeler and told Beav to follow me back to the cabin. I took it kind of slow on our way in to give my old buddy a good look around at our little slice of woodland pie, beautifully situated essentially in the middle of Barry County nowhere.
We arrived at the cabin within a short couple of minutes, with enough daylight remaining to get my old buddy unloaded, shown around and situated with a steaming hot cup of "Black as the Ace of Spades Ranch Coffee", before the sun began it's nightly descent on Butler Holler.
As I stood in the kitchen slicing onions, opening cans of tomato sauce and kidney beans, and browning vast quantities of extra fat hamburger, Beav and I began updating each other on the various going's on in our respective lives over the past several years. It takes a while to prepare a near perfect pot of Ranch Chili, and as I diced, sliced and stirred, we shared stories and opinions on a wide variety of subjects; everything from how great each of our wives were, to how proud we both were of our kids and numerous other topics pertaining to family life and related matters. It didn't take long however, for the two of us to find our way to the front deck and for our conversation to find it's way back to the specific time in history, when we actually started becoming good friends. As we both fondly recalled, It was the day after Labor Day, Tuesday September 2, 1969. The specific place was what became our mutual 4th grade class at Fort Wyman Elementary School (a veritable bastion of decency and All-Americanism).
Although I didn't realize it on that hot September morning as I said good-by to Mr. Davis and stepped off bus #11 before walking through the front door of my school, as I'd done numerous times the previous 2 years, this would not be a normal first day of school. It was a day that would go down in the personal history of several Rolla Boys as perhaps their most significant first day of school ever. This was the day a very select group of 9 year old snot nosed boys became, in their eyes, men. It was the day we all met our new 4th grade teacher; the fabulously beautiful and very sophisticated, Miss Caroline McCutcheon. Upon seeing her for the first time, I knew immediately, she definitely was NOT my Dad's 4th grade teacher!
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
The Rolla Boys™- Chapter 4
Disclaimer: The personalities in the ongoing story of "The Rolla Boys™", are in fact real people. I've chosen to slightly alter the spelling of these names in an effort to protect the true identities of the real life characters I grew up with in the 1960's and 70's. I personally know/knew the vast majority of people who will appear in my story, although occasionally I might write about someone I knew more through acquaintance than close friendship. I have no plans to intentionally incriminate anyone, however, incrimination is largely subjective. If you think you recognize yourself in this or any future writing and prefer your true identity not be revealed, I won't tell anyone who you are if you promise you won't tell anyone. Also, the characterization of people I recall from my childhood but knew primarily from a distance or from their reputation, are accurate and in my opinion, completely fair (based on my memory).
About mid afternoon on Friday October 10, 2003, I received a call from my old friend Steven Ray Moses, telling me he was on Highway 62 East and headed my way. I knew from the landmarks he'd conveyed he was within 25 minutes of the property and would be there soon.
As a note, growing up in Rolla, Missouri, the use of landmarks was critical as it related to giving directions. With the exception of my Dad and his friends Harold Chase and Don Bairdman, no one I knew had any idea of the names of streets in our town, not counting of course the one they lived on, Pine, 10th, and maybe Kings Highway. We gave directions like, "You know that corner where Gordon Startle threw up homecoming night....", or "...if you're on that street that runs into the Kroger parking lot, you go past Snoopy's, turn right at the stop sign on the other side of the laundromat, go over the old wooden bridge and it's just down the bottom of the hill. If you see the house with the dead cat in the front yard, you've gone too far.
This drove my Dad nuts. As a dedicated and professional man of the RPO (Rolla Post Office), he knew not only the names of every street in town, he could also tell you the precise mailing address of everyone in Rolla and most of Phelps County. My brothers and I didn't even know our zip code until we were in the 4th or 5th grade-something to this day Dad refuses to talk about and Mom just says, "Oh you did to!"
Back to the story.....
I strapped on a Colt .45 for affect (the gun not the malt liquor), hopped on my 4-wheeler and headed west for the front gate (at that time we had 2 gates, a red gate and a blue gate, but the blue gate got ran over by an ambulance a few years ago in an unrelated matter, and no longer exist).
As I stood outside the front gate admiring the dubious and eclectic collection of rusty old cars, dilapidated RV's and non-functioning large appliances in Stringly's front yard, I wondered; at what point does a man say to himself, "From now on, instead of throwing old worn out crap away like normal folks are inclined to do, I'm just gonna start putting the stuff in the yard. I know it might make more sense to take this half empty 55 gallon drum of axle grease and that old couch to the dump, but it'll be a lot easier if I just put 'em right here in the yard."
Sidebar: What kind of Babbit brings a wrench in from the garage, disconnects his washer from it's location of 12-15 years, and finds a neighbor drunk enough to talk into coming over and helping him move his washer from the house to the yard. I can vividly imagine that verbal exchange:
Babbit: "Hey Cletis, would you have time to stop by and help me move my washer?"
Cletis: "Sure Babbit. Let me finish this 24 oz can of Old Milwaukee Light and I'll be right over. Oh, where are we moving it to?"
Babbit: "I want to move it to the front yard, between the pile of tin cans and Grandma's old Norge."
Cletis: "Wouldn't it be easier to throw it off the back porch?"
Babbit: "Yah, but it'll look better if we throw it off the front porch."
Where was I? Oh yah, now I remember....
Soon after I arrived at the gate, I saw a slightly banged up older model blue Toyota Jinx Mobile barrel around the corner with the windows rolled down and Brewer and Shipley blaring, "One Toke Over The Line". I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt the first Rolla Boy had arrived, and of course, it was "The Beave".
About mid afternoon on Friday October 10, 2003, I received a call from my old friend Steven Ray Moses, telling me he was on Highway 62 East and headed my way. I knew from the landmarks he'd conveyed he was within 25 minutes of the property and would be there soon.
As a note, growing up in Rolla, Missouri, the use of landmarks was critical as it related to giving directions. With the exception of my Dad and his friends Harold Chase and Don Bairdman, no one I knew had any idea of the names of streets in our town, not counting of course the one they lived on, Pine, 10th, and maybe Kings Highway. We gave directions like, "You know that corner where Gordon Startle threw up homecoming night....", or "...if you're on that street that runs into the Kroger parking lot, you go past Snoopy's, turn right at the stop sign on the other side of the laundromat, go over the old wooden bridge and it's just down the bottom of the hill. If you see the house with the dead cat in the front yard, you've gone too far.
This drove my Dad nuts. As a dedicated and professional man of the RPO (Rolla Post Office), he knew not only the names of every street in town, he could also tell you the precise mailing address of everyone in Rolla and most of Phelps County. My brothers and I didn't even know our zip code until we were in the 4th or 5th grade-something to this day Dad refuses to talk about and Mom just says, "Oh you did to!"
Back to the story.....
I strapped on a Colt .45 for affect (the gun not the malt liquor), hopped on my 4-wheeler and headed west for the front gate (at that time we had 2 gates, a red gate and a blue gate, but the blue gate got ran over by an ambulance a few years ago in an unrelated matter, and no longer exist).
As I stood outside the front gate admiring the dubious and eclectic collection of rusty old cars, dilapidated RV's and non-functioning large appliances in Stringly's front yard, I wondered; at what point does a man say to himself, "From now on, instead of throwing old worn out crap away like normal folks are inclined to do, I'm just gonna start putting the stuff in the yard. I know it might make more sense to take this half empty 55 gallon drum of axle grease and that old couch to the dump, but it'll be a lot easier if I just put 'em right here in the yard."
Sidebar: What kind of Babbit brings a wrench in from the garage, disconnects his washer from it's location of 12-15 years, and finds a neighbor drunk enough to talk into coming over and helping him move his washer from the house to the yard. I can vividly imagine that verbal exchange:
Babbit: "Hey Cletis, would you have time to stop by and help me move my washer?"
Cletis: "Sure Babbit. Let me finish this 24 oz can of Old Milwaukee Light and I'll be right over. Oh, where are we moving it to?"
Babbit: "I want to move it to the front yard, between the pile of tin cans and Grandma's old Norge."
Cletis: "Wouldn't it be easier to throw it off the back porch?"
Babbit: "Yah, but it'll look better if we throw it off the front porch."
Where was I? Oh yah, now I remember....
Soon after I arrived at the gate, I saw a slightly banged up older model blue Toyota Jinx Mobile barrel around the corner with the windows rolled down and Brewer and Shipley blaring, "One Toke Over The Line". I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt the first Rolla Boy had arrived, and of course, it was "The Beave".
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
The Rolla Boys™- Chapter 3
I remember being pretty excited about the first official get together at our new and nearly completed log cabin. The fact the group would be comprised exclusively of guys I'd grown up with and in some cases had not seen in years, made the anticipation on my part that much greater. Not all the old friends I'd invited were able to make this first reunion, but I was confident there'd be enough diversity (sorry Nancy Polosi, I'm referring primarily to personalities; not nationality or sexual orientation) to have some quality campfire conversation based largely on memories of an array of wild and ridiculous things we did, or at least thought we did back in the old days.
The cabin was not yet furnished as there was some remaining inside carpentry work yet to be completed. Our sitting and sleeping accommodations consisted primarily of folding camp chairs and aluminum camp cots made in China but purchased at Walton Mart. What would eventually be a wrap around redwood deck was at the present a temporary affair constructed primarily out of left over plywood from the subfloor and roof. It would do nicely however for holding 5 Goomers and a 2 burner propane stove (made in China but purchased at Bass Pro) which would soon be pulling duty for cooking up the first batch of now famous "Ranch Chile".
Note: if your name is Kevin "Cool" Coolile and you find yourself bunking immediately over Victor DaWatt, you might consider Ranch Chile more infamous than famous. Cool however is a fast learner, and by the second night of our reunion had decided he'd be substantially more comfortable sleeping outside in the rain and under a rock.
Over the course of a few afternoons in early October, I had things in order and ready for the first ever "Rolla Boy Reunion at The Ranch". The fire pit was complete, with enough firewood standing by to burn down Chicago (for a second time); ammunition was stockpiled for target shooting and for use in a fire fight in the unlikely event we found ourselves in the position of having to defend ourselves against an onslaught of Barry County Al-Qaeda (unlike some of our friends in Washington, most of the people I know prefer we defend ourselves on the field of battle instead of in a court room, when it comes to nut whacks who want to murder us in our sleep) and groceries had been purchased including plenty of ingredients for an extra large batch of Ranch Chili. All I had to do now, was meet these Goomers at the front gate on the coming Friday evening of October 10th, and make sure they had permission from their wives to stay up past 10:00!
The cabin was not yet furnished as there was some remaining inside carpentry work yet to be completed. Our sitting and sleeping accommodations consisted primarily of folding camp chairs and aluminum camp cots made in China but purchased at Walton Mart. What would eventually be a wrap around redwood deck was at the present a temporary affair constructed primarily out of left over plywood from the subfloor and roof. It would do nicely however for holding 5 Goomers and a 2 burner propane stove (made in China but purchased at Bass Pro) which would soon be pulling duty for cooking up the first batch of now famous "Ranch Chile".
Note: if your name is Kevin "Cool" Coolile and you find yourself bunking immediately over Victor DaWatt, you might consider Ranch Chile more infamous than famous. Cool however is a fast learner, and by the second night of our reunion had decided he'd be substantially more comfortable sleeping outside in the rain and under a rock.
Over the course of a few afternoons in early October, I had things in order and ready for the first ever "Rolla Boy Reunion at The Ranch". The fire pit was complete, with enough firewood standing by to burn down Chicago (for a second time); ammunition was stockpiled for target shooting and for use in a fire fight in the unlikely event we found ourselves in the position of having to defend ourselves against an onslaught of Barry County Al-Qaeda (unlike some of our friends in Washington, most of the people I know prefer we defend ourselves on the field of battle instead of in a court room, when it comes to nut whacks who want to murder us in our sleep) and groceries had been purchased including plenty of ingredients for an extra large batch of Ranch Chili. All I had to do now, was meet these Goomers at the front gate on the coming Friday evening of October 10th, and make sure they had permission from their wives to stay up past 10:00!
Thursday, November 11, 2010
The Rolla Boys™- Chapter 2
In January of 2003, I started building the infrastructure that would eventually support a dream I'd had since I was in my 20's-a log cabin deep in the woods, ideally in the middle of nowhere particular. I'd purchased land with my brother Larry in 1997, but he eventually lost interest and sold his half of the 160 acres to a good friend of mine, Greg "Magnus" Samson.
While Magnus and I sat talking about log cabins one evening over an icy cold beverage, it hit me that if I was ever going to fulfill my nearly life long dream, I had to at some point pull the trigger and take the first step. As a result of that realization, I shortly after hired local dirt man Raymond Stringly to clear the building site, some good Ol' Missouri Boys out of Cassville to dig a well (960 feet deep), and I started clearing and digging a 2400' long utility easement (over the hills and through the woods of course) with my trusty Husqvarna Model 51 chain saw and a big butted 38hp Vermeer Trencher I'd rented from a local equipment dealer. I was a brush clearing and ditch digging son-of-a-gun I was!
Toward the end of that Summer as we neared completion of the cabin, I decided to try to get some of these old hometown boys to come down and hang out for a weekend at my new place in the woods. Since I'd re-established contact with a handful of these Goomers the past few years, I thought it might be fun to get those guys out for a couple days and nights to sit around a camp fire, eat some chili, blast a few caps and perhaps rehash stories of some of the mostly ridiculous stuff we did while growing up in Rolla, Mo in the 1960's and 70's.
I settled on October 10-12 as a good time for our get-together. The leaves would be changing, the moon would be close to full and we'd have a good chance of decent weather.
One evening around the middle of August, I sat at home and made phone calls to 6 or 7 of my old friends, inviting them down for the get together the following month. I received the somewhat anticipated response of "I can't make it Rob because....", from one of my best friends of all-time, a guy named Randy Warrenton, who I've called Ran-dell ever since I can remember and whom I've known since grade school at Fort Wyman Elementary; one response of, "Man I'd like to Russell but I'm really busy here with my business" from my great old friend Jack Craig who I've known since 7th grade; and 4 responses that went something like, "I'll be there buddy-I wouldn't miss it for the world!".
Those 4 guys along with myself comprised the inaugural group and first official post high school gathering of "The Rolla Boys™". They included, Steven Ray "The Beaver" Moses, Kevin "Cool" Carmile, Vic "Victor" Day-Vault (as our one and only and larger than life 8th grade football coach, Coach Kinder called him) and Craig "Howard" France.
After a 25 year hiatus, The Rolla Boys™ would soon be together again, telling old lies and making up plenty of new ones!
While Magnus and I sat talking about log cabins one evening over an icy cold beverage, it hit me that if I was ever going to fulfill my nearly life long dream, I had to at some point pull the trigger and take the first step. As a result of that realization, I shortly after hired local dirt man Raymond Stringly to clear the building site, some good Ol' Missouri Boys out of Cassville to dig a well (960 feet deep), and I started clearing and digging a 2400' long utility easement (over the hills and through the woods of course) with my trusty Husqvarna Model 51 chain saw and a big butted 38hp Vermeer Trencher I'd rented from a local equipment dealer. I was a brush clearing and ditch digging son-of-a-gun I was!
Toward the end of that Summer as we neared completion of the cabin, I decided to try to get some of these old hometown boys to come down and hang out for a weekend at my new place in the woods. Since I'd re-established contact with a handful of these Goomers the past few years, I thought it might be fun to get those guys out for a couple days and nights to sit around a camp fire, eat some chili, blast a few caps and perhaps rehash stories of some of the mostly ridiculous stuff we did while growing up in Rolla, Mo in the 1960's and 70's.
I settled on October 10-12 as a good time for our get-together. The leaves would be changing, the moon would be close to full and we'd have a good chance of decent weather.
One evening around the middle of August, I sat at home and made phone calls to 6 or 7 of my old friends, inviting them down for the get together the following month. I received the somewhat anticipated response of "I can't make it Rob because....", from one of my best friends of all-time, a guy named Randy Warrenton, who I've called Ran-dell ever since I can remember and whom I've known since grade school at Fort Wyman Elementary; one response of, "Man I'd like to Russell but I'm really busy here with my business" from my great old friend Jack Craig who I've known since 7th grade; and 4 responses that went something like, "I'll be there buddy-I wouldn't miss it for the world!".
Those 4 guys along with myself comprised the inaugural group and first official post high school gathering of "The Rolla Boys™". They included, Steven Ray "The Beaver" Moses, Kevin "Cool" Carmile, Vic "Victor" Day-Vault (as our one and only and larger than life 8th grade football coach, Coach Kinder called him) and Craig "Howard" France.
After a 25 year hiatus, The Rolla Boys™ would soon be together again, telling old lies and making up plenty of new ones!
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
The Rolla Boys™-Chapter 1
The basis for causing me to reflect on my past and current good friendships, came out of my 20 year high school reunion in the summer of 1998. I was visiting with a group of old friends and class mates at the home of Kevin Starling (since this blog is open to the world, I'll change last names to protect the guilty) and someone commented that it was a shame 10 years had passed since the majority of us had seen each other. I made the observation that at the rate we were going, most of us would see one another 3 more times in our life time, assuming we all attended the next 3 class reunions and everyone reached life expectancy. Steve Smitts commented that we really needed to make an effort to get together at least once a year because, "Stuff was going to start happening"; meaning, people were going to start dying. Unfortunately he was right-we've since lost 3 class mates I'm aware of.
It was at that point that Steven Ray Moses (one of my oldest and dearest friends on the planet) and I agreed that it wouldn't do to see each other just once every 10 years or so, especially considering we only lived a couple of hours apart and we'd been good friends since the 4th grade. I realized how ridiculous it was that we'd gotten together only a handful of times since leaving our mutual home town 20 years ago to seek our individual fame and fortune.
As a result of that conversation, I now make the long and dangerous 2 hour trip to the back country of Muskogee, Oklahoma at least once a year or so to visit my good friend Steve. If I get there early enough, I always find him at home going through his morning ritual of reading the bible and drinking himself silly on "hotter than fried whale snot black coffee". We usually shoot the manure until noon before hitting his favorite local barbeque joint* for lunch and me returning home. This get together has now become a semi annual ritual, and through it I've come to the realization of how amazingly simple it is to create new memories with old friends!
In a future installment of The Rolla Boys™, I'll profile this old guy known far and wide in the day as...."Beaver".
*For the record, Steve's favorite barbeque joint is any barbeque joint that's open and has some food.
It was at that point that Steven Ray Moses (one of my oldest and dearest friends on the planet) and I agreed that it wouldn't do to see each other just once every 10 years or so, especially considering we only lived a couple of hours apart and we'd been good friends since the 4th grade. I realized how ridiculous it was that we'd gotten together only a handful of times since leaving our mutual home town 20 years ago to seek our individual fame and fortune.
As a result of that conversation, I now make the long and dangerous 2 hour trip to the back country of Muskogee, Oklahoma at least once a year or so to visit my good friend Steve. If I get there early enough, I always find him at home going through his morning ritual of reading the bible and drinking himself silly on "hotter than fried whale snot black coffee". We usually shoot the manure until noon before hitting his favorite local barbeque joint* for lunch and me returning home. This get together has now become a semi annual ritual, and through it I've come to the realization of how amazingly simple it is to create new memories with old friends!
In a future installment of The Rolla Boys™, I'll profile this old guy known far and wide in the day as...."Beaver".
*For the record, Steve's favorite barbeque joint is any barbeque joint that's open and has some food.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Made in China
A good friend of mine, Doug, recently spent 3 weeks in China visiting his son Hunter. I've yet to hear the details but I know they toured the country and I'm sure they significantly sampled the local culture. It has me wondering; is all the stuff they sell in China Made in America?
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Scooters (and stuff like that)
I've not written anything for quite some time. The fact that I only have 9 followers after nearly a year (counting myself) suggest not many folks are interested in my thoughts and experiences. I keep thinking, "Maybe I need to stay away from anything remotely political in nature". After giving it some thought however, I realized nearly every facet of life is in fact political.
With that in mind, the 19 year old kid on the scooter who recently ran head on into the full sized pickup (both vehicles looked like they were going 20-25 mph), bounced 180 degrees backward, landed on his face and immediately got up and walked it off with just a few scratches and bruises, has my vote for about anything he goes out for the rest of his life, including President of The United States of America--way to go kid (I have no doubt that that exact accident would have killed 999 out of every 1000 people in the world-and probably all extreme left wing liberals)!
With that in mind, the 19 year old kid on the scooter who recently ran head on into the full sized pickup (both vehicles looked like they were going 20-25 mph), bounced 180 degrees backward, landed on his face and immediately got up and walked it off with just a few scratches and bruises, has my vote for about anything he goes out for the rest of his life, including President of The United States of America--way to go kid (I have no doubt that that exact accident would have killed 999 out of every 1000 people in the world-and probably all extreme left wing liberals)!
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Who's afraid
If more Americans paid attention to what goes on outside the confines of our own backyards, we wouldn't be in the situation we're in now as a country. The overwhelming truth is, the vast majority of Americans aren't concerned with anything that doesn't impact them directly and immediately.
Without fail, we wait until we have a crisis before we pull our heads out of our rear ends and take a look around. Then we gripe and complain to each other, wondering how it happened.
If you think the very serious economic condition we're in is the governments fault, you'd be mostly wrong. We the American people are to blame; we continue putting knot heads in public office and then just accept crap for governance. We very simply, are getting what we deserve.
Recommendation:
Every individual can make a difference by sending an email, writing a letter, or better yet, making a phone call to their congressmen or senators (key in the search word "congress" or "senate" and get all the information you need). Tell them what's important to you, what you expect them to work on, and how you expect them to vote. Be respectful but let them know you're tired of the ridiculous crap they continue putting out.
Remember, when a government is afraid of the people, you have a democracy. When the people are afraid of the government, you have something completely different.
Without fail, we wait until we have a crisis before we pull our heads out of our rear ends and take a look around. Then we gripe and complain to each other, wondering how it happened.
If you think the very serious economic condition we're in is the governments fault, you'd be mostly wrong. We the American people are to blame; we continue putting knot heads in public office and then just accept crap for governance. We very simply, are getting what we deserve.
Recommendation:
Every individual can make a difference by sending an email, writing a letter, or better yet, making a phone call to their congressmen or senators (key in the search word "congress" or "senate" and get all the information you need). Tell them what's important to you, what you expect them to work on, and how you expect them to vote. Be respectful but let them know you're tired of the ridiculous crap they continue putting out.
Remember, when a government is afraid of the people, you have a democracy. When the people are afraid of the government, you have something completely different.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Your Choice
If, up to now, you've had a heart for the "Radical Islamist" who you believe are within their full rights to promote their way of life in any manner they see fit, and you think the United States Government is essentially the bad guy and the citizens of the U.S. are just getting what we have coming to us, then ask yourself which of these two teams you'd rather be on:
Team A)
The team who ran 2 airplanes full of mostly innocent people into 2 buildings full of mostly innocent people resulting in the death of a few thousand mostly innocent people, and rejoiced in the murder of the "Infidels" while finding comfort in the endless torment and suffering of the surviving loved ones, or...
Team B)
The team who upon catching the guys responsible for killing their mostly innocent citizens, put them in jail, provided them with lawyers, and are now giving them a FAIR TRIAL (8 years later) in a democratic court of law, where they'll have a realistic chance of being acquitted and sent home to plan their next attack on even more innocent citizens of the very country who gave them a chance at freedom in the first place. This of course, is after having admitted they were behind the cowardly murders of the few thousand mostly innocent people they are charged with killing.
Note: The only rule is, you can't play on both teams.
Team A)
The team who ran 2 airplanes full of mostly innocent people into 2 buildings full of mostly innocent people resulting in the death of a few thousand mostly innocent people, and rejoiced in the murder of the "Infidels" while finding comfort in the endless torment and suffering of the surviving loved ones, or...
Team B)
The team who upon catching the guys responsible for killing their mostly innocent citizens, put them in jail, provided them with lawyers, and are now giving them a FAIR TRIAL (8 years later) in a democratic court of law, where they'll have a realistic chance of being acquitted and sent home to plan their next attack on even more innocent citizens of the very country who gave them a chance at freedom in the first place. This of course, is after having admitted they were behind the cowardly murders of the few thousand mostly innocent people they are charged with killing.
Note: The only rule is, you can't play on both teams.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Line in the sand
A Pulaski County, Arkansas Circuit Judge was recently ousted for allegedly forcing probationers to attend Bible readings, and submit to blood tests and prostate exams (Arkansas Democrat Gazette on 2-6-2010).
For the record, I don't have a problem with probationers being forced to attend Bible readings. After all, these rascals might just learn something that could impact their life in a positive way.
I don't have a huge problem with being forced to submit to a blood test, providing the person taking my blood is a trained professional and providing some one else is paying for it.
But being forced to submit to a prostrate exam because I wrote a bad check or have one too many speeding tickets, is where I have to draw the line.
I don't think anyone should be able to stick their finger up my rear end unless I ask them to, or I'm a legitimate terror suspect. If I am a legitimate terror suspect, I think they should be able to stick anything up there that'll fit, providing there's a good chance it'll make me talk.
Ridiculous perhaps, but at least I know where I draw the line.
For the record, I don't have a problem with probationers being forced to attend Bible readings. After all, these rascals might just learn something that could impact their life in a positive way.
I don't have a huge problem with being forced to submit to a blood test, providing the person taking my blood is a trained professional and providing some one else is paying for it.
But being forced to submit to a prostrate exam because I wrote a bad check or have one too many speeding tickets, is where I have to draw the line.
I don't think anyone should be able to stick their finger up my rear end unless I ask them to, or I'm a legitimate terror suspect. If I am a legitimate terror suspect, I think they should be able to stick anything up there that'll fit, providing there's a good chance it'll make me talk.
Ridiculous perhaps, but at least I know where I draw the line.
Name Game
You may have heard the news that two local real estate companies are merging to form one new and improved real estate company. They're going to call their new and improved organization, "Coldwell Banker Harris McHaney and Faucette Realty".
Are you kidding me-Coldwell Banker Harris McHaney and Faucette. Is there even a marginal chance that one person outside of their own company is going to be able to remember all that? And wouldn't it cost less to print up all new signs if they went with just 1 name instead of 5.
Here's my recommendation for naming the newly synergized business: call it Coldwell Realty or Banker Realty or Harris Realty or McHaney Realty or Faucette Realty. I could even understand calling it Harris Faucette, since these are the 2 guys who own the company. Considering Mr. Faucette has already agreed to go last on the company moniker, I bet Mr. Harris would be cool with that as well.
Bottom line: Coldwell Banker Harris McHaney and Faucette Realty, is simply much too difficult to remember. Next time we decide to list our house, I think we'll just go with "EXIT". Afterall, when you put your house up for sale, that's all you're really trying to do anyway.
Are you kidding me-Coldwell Banker Harris McHaney and Faucette. Is there even a marginal chance that one person outside of their own company is going to be able to remember all that? And wouldn't it cost less to print up all new signs if they went with just 1 name instead of 5.
Here's my recommendation for naming the newly synergized business: call it Coldwell Realty or Banker Realty or Harris Realty or McHaney Realty or Faucette Realty. I could even understand calling it Harris Faucette, since these are the 2 guys who own the company. Considering Mr. Faucette has already agreed to go last on the company moniker, I bet Mr. Harris would be cool with that as well.
Bottom line: Coldwell Banker Harris McHaney and Faucette Realty, is simply much too difficult to remember. Next time we decide to list our house, I think we'll just go with "EXIT". Afterall, when you put your house up for sale, that's all you're really trying to do anyway.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Read all about it!
The front page headline of today's local newspaper read: Wal-Mart Cuts 300 Jobs.
Even though I feel the folks at The Benton County Daily Record do a fine job overall, could someone please make them aware of the following:
1) Approximately 16 months ago, "Wal-Mart" dropped the hyphen and made the "M" small. They are now "Walmart", followed by the sphincter sign *.
2) A potential follow up headline would be, "Walmart retains 2,106,973 jobs".
3) It doesn't take an economist to figure out that for every dollar in lost wages, there's one less dollar in the economy.
Even though I feel the folks at The Benton County Daily Record do a fine job overall, could someone please make them aware of the following:
1) Approximately 16 months ago, "Wal-Mart" dropped the hyphen and made the "M" small. They are now "Walmart", followed by the sphincter sign *.
2) A potential follow up headline would be, "Walmart retains 2,106,973 jobs".
3) It doesn't take an economist to figure out that for every dollar in lost wages, there's one less dollar in the economy.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
No more soup for you
Today, the Arkansas Democrat Gazette reported:
-Tony Chan, a feng shui master who claimed to be the longtime companion of the late Asian billionaire Nina Wang, will not be receiving Wang's estate after a judge in Hong Kong invalidated a "feng shui will" from 2006, saying Wang's signature had been forged.
Afterward, Chan had this to say: "Hang Cha!" I'm not 100% sure, but I think it means something very close to, "Oh man; you have gotta be stinkin' kiddin' me!"
-Tony Chan, a feng shui master who claimed to be the longtime companion of the late Asian billionaire Nina Wang, will not be receiving Wang's estate after a judge in Hong Kong invalidated a "feng shui will" from 2006, saying Wang's signature had been forged.
Afterward, Chan had this to say: "Hang Cha!" I'm not 100% sure, but I think it means something very close to, "Oh man; you have gotta be stinkin' kiddin' me!"
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Door #1, #2, or #3?
I have to ask the question: Are KY Jelly commercials absolutely necessary?
I can't imagine that my first, first grade teacher, Miss. Cook (God rest her soul), would have approved of the KY Jelly commercial. I can't help but think if the makers of KY Jelly would have gone to Miss Cook back in 1965 and said, "Miss Cook, we'd like to ask your opinion on something: Do you think it would be A) a good idea B) a decent idea or C) a bad idea, to advertise KY Jelly on television?"
Miss Cook's first response might have been, "I'm sorry, I don't believe I'm familiar with KY Jelly." Once they told her what it was, however, I think she would have been aghast. Aghast not because the product existed, but aghast that the makers of KY were actually thinking of advertising their product on television and that she would now, more than likely, have to deal with her cute and impressionable little first grade students coming to school and asking, "Golly Gee Willikers Miss Cook, what's KY Jelly?".
I'd bet hard money, she would have gone with "C".
I can't imagine that my first, first grade teacher, Miss. Cook (God rest her soul), would have approved of the KY Jelly commercial. I can't help but think if the makers of KY Jelly would have gone to Miss Cook back in 1965 and said, "Miss Cook, we'd like to ask your opinion on something: Do you think it would be A) a good idea B) a decent idea or C) a bad idea, to advertise KY Jelly on television?"
Miss Cook's first response might have been, "I'm sorry, I don't believe I'm familiar with KY Jelly." Once they told her what it was, however, I think she would have been aghast. Aghast not because the product existed, but aghast that the makers of KY were actually thinking of advertising their product on television and that she would now, more than likely, have to deal with her cute and impressionable little first grade students coming to school and asking, "Golly Gee Willikers Miss Cook, what's KY Jelly?".
I'd bet hard money, she would have gone with "C".
I've been Made-offed!
Can you imagine messing up so badly in life that you're last name becomes a verb?
With that in mind, here's a lighter look at the ridiculous world we live in. As you read through this little antidote, keep the thought in mind, "I've been Made-offed":
A couple years ago I was "Made-offed" by an area business. Although they didn't get my entire life savings, I did allow them to take advantage of my naiveté and bilk me out of enough money to pay for a relatively nice used car. Let's just say I felt like I'd been bent over a stump and "Franked".
They told me enough scary facts and half truths to get me all riled up and then got me so far in it was too late to get out. In other words, they "Cheneyed" me.
Oh, I don't mean to infer they outright "Edwardsed" to me regarding the truth, but I for sure felt they had "Clintoned" with the facts.
Though I had no idea if their proposed plan of attack was actually going to work, I decided to go ahead and "Bush" it to the limit. After all, doing something is surly better than doing nothing.
I suppose I shouldn't feel too bad about falling for their little "House Bill" since I was mostly clueless and inexperienced on all the relative issues-a complete "Obama-fite".
Believe it or not, after they "Blogojeviched" me for $13,000 worth of their service, they had the "Limbaugh's" to call me up and tell me they had made an accounting "Pelosi" and had accidentally under-billed me a hundred bucks. I was like, "You gotta be 'Al-Franken' kiddin' me!"
After the incident I felt like a real "Dodd"-I mean a complete and total "Reid". Instead of being up front and "Huckabee" with me, the guy who ran the place "Gored" me into thinking he had invented the entire industry. When I "O'reilly" questioned him as to whether or not he honestly believed their service was needed, he showed absolutely no signs of going "Kerry": he was 100% sure he was for it.
Wow, did I ever get "Franked".
PS. I you don't have a sense of humor, don't read any more of the stuff I write. You will not hurt my feelings...not really...I mean, I won't cry...not really...not actual tears. OK, it will hurt my feelings but that's the price I'll have to pay for having a huge following of 3 on Blogspot.com!
With that in mind, here's a lighter look at the ridiculous world we live in. As you read through this little antidote, keep the thought in mind, "I've been Made-offed":
A couple years ago I was "Made-offed" by an area business. Although they didn't get my entire life savings, I did allow them to take advantage of my naiveté and bilk me out of enough money to pay for a relatively nice used car. Let's just say I felt like I'd been bent over a stump and "Franked".
They told me enough scary facts and half truths to get me all riled up and then got me so far in it was too late to get out. In other words, they "Cheneyed" me.
Oh, I don't mean to infer they outright "Edwardsed" to me regarding the truth, but I for sure felt they had "Clintoned" with the facts.
Though I had no idea if their proposed plan of attack was actually going to work, I decided to go ahead and "Bush" it to the limit. After all, doing something is surly better than doing nothing.
I suppose I shouldn't feel too bad about falling for their little "House Bill" since I was mostly clueless and inexperienced on all the relative issues-a complete "Obama-fite".
Believe it or not, after they "Blogojeviched" me for $13,000 worth of their service, they had the "Limbaugh's" to call me up and tell me they had made an accounting "Pelosi" and had accidentally under-billed me a hundred bucks. I was like, "You gotta be 'Al-Franken' kiddin' me!"
After the incident I felt like a real "Dodd"-I mean a complete and total "Reid". Instead of being up front and "Huckabee" with me, the guy who ran the place "Gored" me into thinking he had invented the entire industry. When I "O'reilly" questioned him as to whether or not he honestly believed their service was needed, he showed absolutely no signs of going "Kerry": he was 100% sure he was for it.
Wow, did I ever get "Franked".
PS. I you don't have a sense of humor, don't read any more of the stuff I write. You will not hurt my feelings...not really...I mean, I won't cry...not really...not actual tears. OK, it will hurt my feelings but that's the price I'll have to pay for having a huge following of 3 on Blogspot.com!
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
Can we agree on anything?
Here's a few points I bet we can all agree on, regardless of your religious or ideological beliefs:
-It's not nice to blow up innocent people-especially when they're on an airplane and don't at least have a chance to run away.
-It's not nice under any circumstances to cut off someone's head, unless it's of course your own.
-It's OK to worship anyone/thing you want, as long as you don't kill people in an effort to convert the people who are still alive, to your way of thinking.
-If someone's involved in your business and you don't like it, don't kill them-get a lawyer (kind of like we're doing with the guys responsible for 911).
-If you don't like women, don't associate with them, but don't abuse them and then insult them further by making them wear clothes they don't like.
-Don't cut off people's hands and feet unless you're a doctor and they ask you to.
-Don't teach your children it's OK to blow up other children.
-It's not nice to blow up innocent people-especially when they're on an airplane and don't at least have a chance to run away.
-It's not nice under any circumstances to cut off someone's head, unless it's of course your own.
-It's OK to worship anyone/thing you want, as long as you don't kill people in an effort to convert the people who are still alive, to your way of thinking.
-If someone's involved in your business and you don't like it, don't kill them-get a lawyer (kind of like we're doing with the guys responsible for 911).
-If you don't like women, don't associate with them, but don't abuse them and then insult them further by making them wear clothes they don't like.
-Don't cut off people's hands and feet unless you're a doctor and they ask you to.
-Don't teach your children it's OK to blow up other children.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
How to become old and ridiculous-Lesson 1
If you've been wondering how you too can become old and ridiculous, here's your first lesson:
Basically, just pay attention to what goes on around you and then share your opinion on it.
For example, last night President Obama highlighted hate crime legislation as an accomplishment he was proud of. Here's how it works:
If a person read my blog, found it offensive, came to my house and punched me in the mouth as I opened the door, I could charge them in a court of law with assault. If found guilty they would be subject to punishment "A".
If under the exact same circumstances however, my name was say, Abdul Abba Fareak Farrid instead of Russ, and I was Muslim instead of Non-Muslim, I could charge the guy who punched me in the mouth with a HATE CRIME instead of just a regular old crime. If found guilty he would be subject to the more severe punishment of "A+". Now how ridiculous is that!
This concludes today's lesson on how to become old and ridiculous.
Basically, just pay attention to what goes on around you and then share your opinion on it.
For example, last night President Obama highlighted hate crime legislation as an accomplishment he was proud of. Here's how it works:
If a person read my blog, found it offensive, came to my house and punched me in the mouth as I opened the door, I could charge them in a court of law with assault. If found guilty they would be subject to punishment "A".
If under the exact same circumstances however, my name was say, Abdul Abba Fareak Farrid instead of Russ, and I was Muslim instead of Non-Muslim, I could charge the guy who punched me in the mouth with a HATE CRIME instead of just a regular old crime. If found guilty he would be subject to the more severe punishment of "A+". Now how ridiculous is that!
This concludes today's lesson on how to become old and ridiculous.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Service To Our Country
I spent 29 years of my life within an organization while fulfilling a role, few will ever truly understand. For years I would leave my quarters well before daylight while most civilians where still fast asleep in their warm beds and within the comfort and safety of their own homes. I'd arrive early to assess damages that had resulted from the previous days battle and perform overall reconnaissance before adjusting the plan of attack for my team of fellow warriors.
I once went 78 hours without sleep in order to fulfill my duties as commander of my unit. I've seen everything from gunfights to actual hand-to-hand combat. I've been in life threatening situations and had my life threatened. While serving my fellow man, I've morned the fallen, grieved with the stricken, consoled the heart broken, and thank God, at times laughed until I cried.
I've had stretches during times of peace when I followed orders to the "T" and in the heat of battle have pushed the limits of my own judgement, venturing ever closer to court marshall while facing the fear of a dreaded dishonorable discharge; all in an effort to fulfill my overall duties. I was, after-all, charged with responsibility for keeping my operation afloat while doing all I could to see that my troops never had to endure the humiliation of defeat.
As I reflect on my personal years on the front lines serving the people of our great nation, the written words of Charles Dickens come to mind; "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times".
Looking back now on my life's experiences, I can honestly say without reservation, I believe everyone should spend at least two full years of their life....managing a Walmart or Sam's Club!
I once went 78 hours without sleep in order to fulfill my duties as commander of my unit. I've seen everything from gunfights to actual hand-to-hand combat. I've been in life threatening situations and had my life threatened. While serving my fellow man, I've morned the fallen, grieved with the stricken, consoled the heart broken, and thank God, at times laughed until I cried.
I've had stretches during times of peace when I followed orders to the "T" and in the heat of battle have pushed the limits of my own judgement, venturing ever closer to court marshall while facing the fear of a dreaded dishonorable discharge; all in an effort to fulfill my overall duties. I was, after-all, charged with responsibility for keeping my operation afloat while doing all I could to see that my troops never had to endure the humiliation of defeat.
As I reflect on my personal years on the front lines serving the people of our great nation, the written words of Charles Dickens come to mind; "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times".
Looking back now on my life's experiences, I can honestly say without reservation, I believe everyone should spend at least two full years of their life....managing a Walmart or Sam's Club!
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
Anheuser Busch "over-thinking"
I find the amount of money the beer industry is willing to fork over to push their product, somewhat fascinating. I find it even more fascinating to consider the sheer volume of creativity expended by advertising agencies aimed at creating commercials and designing campaigns that will result in their client selling more brew. No longer do you see the relatively straight forward beer commercials like those that existed in the 1960's and early 70's. Apparently todays targeted customer, the young adult male, is much more sophisticated than their fathers and grandfathers were when they were their age.
For example, take the classic 1960's Hamm's beer commercial you'll likely recall if you're 45 or older. It featured a couple of cartoon bears and it went something like this: "From the land of sky blue wa-a-ters, comes the beer that's so refreshing....Hamm's the beer refreshing, Hamm's the beer refreshing, Hamm's". I might be off a bit on the exact wording of the Hamm's beer song, but you get the idea.
Even in today's dollars, producing that entire commercial could not possibly have cost more than a couple hundred bucks.
It's interesting that those old commercials were void of subliminal messages as far as I could tell. The Hamm's cartoon bears in no way suggested that if you were a guy and you started drinking refreshing Hamm's beer you'd suddenly have boatloads of super-hot babes beating down your door wanting to bear your future children. Nor did they imply that all the real cool people who live in the real awesome places would now want to hang out with you all the time and your life would be one huge spectacular and ongoing party as a result of drinking Hamm's. No, apparently all they were trying to tell men in the old days was what men in the old days actually needed to know: "WE'RE STILL MAKING BEER AND YOU CAN STILL BUY IT ABOUT ANYWHERE THAT SELLS BEER!"
Pretty simple wouldn't you say? And smart if you ask me. If there was a subliminal message in that old beer commercial, it was probably as simple as, "If you're not drinking Hamm's, we hope you'll try some!"
The bottom line for all of us who drink beer is, we just need to know if they're still making it and if so, where we can get some? It's possible the folks at Anheuser Busch are way over thinking this doggone beer thing! I'll try to keep you posted on other beer-related stuff as I become aware of it...
For example, take the classic 1960's Hamm's beer commercial you'll likely recall if you're 45 or older. It featured a couple of cartoon bears and it went something like this: "From the land of sky blue wa-a-ters, comes the beer that's so refreshing....Hamm's the beer refreshing, Hamm's the beer refreshing, Hamm's". I might be off a bit on the exact wording of the Hamm's beer song, but you get the idea.
Even in today's dollars, producing that entire commercial could not possibly have cost more than a couple hundred bucks.
It's interesting that those old commercials were void of subliminal messages as far as I could tell. The Hamm's cartoon bears in no way suggested that if you were a guy and you started drinking refreshing Hamm's beer you'd suddenly have boatloads of super-hot babes beating down your door wanting to bear your future children. Nor did they imply that all the real cool people who live in the real awesome places would now want to hang out with you all the time and your life would be one huge spectacular and ongoing party as a result of drinking Hamm's. No, apparently all they were trying to tell men in the old days was what men in the old days actually needed to know: "WE'RE STILL MAKING BEER AND YOU CAN STILL BUY IT ABOUT ANYWHERE THAT SELLS BEER!"
Pretty simple wouldn't you say? And smart if you ask me. If there was a subliminal message in that old beer commercial, it was probably as simple as, "If you're not drinking Hamm's, we hope you'll try some!"
The bottom line for all of us who drink beer is, we just need to know if they're still making it and if so, where we can get some? It's possible the folks at Anheuser Busch are way over thinking this doggone beer thing! I'll try to keep you posted on other beer-related stuff as I become aware of it...
Step 6-How to get fatter than you ever thought possible!
This is the sixth installment in the series, "How to get fatter than you ever thought possible!"
Step 6:
Can you say, "Super size it?" That's right, make that son of gun as big and bold and juicy as you can make it, and don't hold anything back!
When it's lunch time Monday and you're going through the McDonald's drive thru for the 5th time that week, remember this important fact: the regular sized value meal is for skinny folks. You want that big rascal and you want it to be as big as they can possibly make it. You want it to be McHuge!
When the cute little high school gal at the other end of the speaker says, "Would you like the SUPER EXTRA DELUXE VALUE MEAL", you boldly respond with confidence, "Are you kidding me--is the Pope Catholic; does a bear poop in the woods; does Harry Reid wish he wasn't a star in the book Game Change? You darn right I want that SUPER EXTRA DELUXE VALUE MEAL and while you're at it, can you Super Size it?"
One of the great things about living a Super Sized life is, Super Sizing opportunities exist not only at the drive thru, but also at the grocery store.
A great example of this is found with the Snickers candy bar. You're probably well aware that just about every check stand in America provides you and me the last minute opportunity to purchase a candy bar. And just like they tell us on TV, a Snickers candy bar is one of the best choices you can make when it comes to the need to suppress those nagging hunger pangs that invariably crop up between trips from the McDonald's drive thru for breakfast and the Taco Bell drive thru for lunch.
But did you know your daily Snickers bar can also be Super Sized? It may sound too good to be true but it's not. There is no reason you should have to settle for the regular 2.07 oz Snickers when you can have the 3.70 oz size for just a little more money. Even though the folks at Mars decided to call their big bar "King Size" instead of "Super Size", it's the same concept. Regardless of what you call it, the difference between these two bars is 78%. Are you kidding me, 78% more? Is that even possible? You're darn right it's possible and 78% more candy bar means 78% more fat and calories and in the end of course, that means 78% more you!
Bottom line to lesson #6-Learn the value of super sizing. It's as simple as this: if it says "Super Size", you know you're going to get more. "Super Size" and "More" are synonymous, and more is always better if your objective is to gain weight.
Step 6:
Can you say, "Super size it?" That's right, make that son of gun as big and bold and juicy as you can make it, and don't hold anything back!
When it's lunch time Monday and you're going through the McDonald's drive thru for the 5th time that week, remember this important fact: the regular sized value meal is for skinny folks. You want that big rascal and you want it to be as big as they can possibly make it. You want it to be McHuge!
When the cute little high school gal at the other end of the speaker says, "Would you like the SUPER EXTRA DELUXE VALUE MEAL", you boldly respond with confidence, "Are you kidding me--is the Pope Catholic; does a bear poop in the woods; does Harry Reid wish he wasn't a star in the book Game Change? You darn right I want that SUPER EXTRA DELUXE VALUE MEAL and while you're at it, can you Super Size it?"
One of the great things about living a Super Sized life is, Super Sizing opportunities exist not only at the drive thru, but also at the grocery store.
A great example of this is found with the Snickers candy bar. You're probably well aware that just about every check stand in America provides you and me the last minute opportunity to purchase a candy bar. And just like they tell us on TV, a Snickers candy bar is one of the best choices you can make when it comes to the need to suppress those nagging hunger pangs that invariably crop up between trips from the McDonald's drive thru for breakfast and the Taco Bell drive thru for lunch.
But did you know your daily Snickers bar can also be Super Sized? It may sound too good to be true but it's not. There is no reason you should have to settle for the regular 2.07 oz Snickers when you can have the 3.70 oz size for just a little more money. Even though the folks at Mars decided to call their big bar "King Size" instead of "Super Size", it's the same concept. Regardless of what you call it, the difference between these two bars is 78%. Are you kidding me, 78% more? Is that even possible? You're darn right it's possible and 78% more candy bar means 78% more fat and calories and in the end of course, that means 78% more you!
Bottom line to lesson #6-Learn the value of super sizing. It's as simple as this: if it says "Super Size", you know you're going to get more. "Super Size" and "More" are synonymous, and more is always better if your objective is to gain weight.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Step 5-How to get fatter than you ever thought possible!
This is the Fifth installment in the series, "How to get fatter than you ever thought possible!"
Step 5:
Maintain a positive attitude my friend! Getting fat takes time and good things come to those who wait. No one goes to bed a trim 142 and wakes up in the morning a bloated 385. I've been working at getting fat all my life and though I've so far made it only to about 185, I consider myself a work in progress. When I graduated high school nearly 32 years ago, I weighed about 160. Some of you may be thinking, "LOSER", but I'm looking at the bright side-that's an increase of over 13%!
I know I have a ways to go before I'm ready to star on the apparent hit TV show, "The worlds biggest Loser", but staying positive about the possibilities of gaining huge amounts of weight gives me a reason to get out of bed in the morning.
So, eat everything you can get your hands on and stay positive. You might even consider adopting as your personal mantra, "Every day, in every way, I'm getting fatter and fatter!"
Remember, when it comes to getting fatter than you ever thought possible, there is no substitute for a positive attitude (with the possible exception of a dozen glazed donuts from Krispy Cream and a half gallon of Braum's whole milk every night just before bed time-you can't go no better)!
Step 5:
Maintain a positive attitude my friend! Getting fat takes time and good things come to those who wait. No one goes to bed a trim 142 and wakes up in the morning a bloated 385. I've been working at getting fat all my life and though I've so far made it only to about 185, I consider myself a work in progress. When I graduated high school nearly 32 years ago, I weighed about 160. Some of you may be thinking, "LOSER", but I'm looking at the bright side-that's an increase of over 13%!
I know I have a ways to go before I'm ready to star on the apparent hit TV show, "The worlds biggest Loser", but staying positive about the possibilities of gaining huge amounts of weight gives me a reason to get out of bed in the morning.
So, eat everything you can get your hands on and stay positive. You might even consider adopting as your personal mantra, "Every day, in every way, I'm getting fatter and fatter!"
Remember, when it comes to getting fatter than you ever thought possible, there is no substitute for a positive attitude (with the possible exception of a dozen glazed donuts from Krispy Cream and a half gallon of Braum's whole milk every night just before bed time-you can't go no better)!
Friday, January 15, 2010
Somethings Wrong
We've gone 5 days or so now without any reporting of the completely and utterly stupid and ridiculous things our politicians have said and done. Which could only mean one thing: They're all busy doing and saying ridiculously stupid things, but the media just isn't reporting on it.
Stay tuned, as I'm completely confident it's just a matter of time!
Post Script. I am not related in any way shape or form to Pat Robertson. Not that I have any particular problem with Pat overall, but he has the worst judgement and sense of timing since General George Custer's now famous line, "I think the Indians are finally ready to talk."
Stay tuned, as I'm completely confident it's just a matter of time!
Post Script. I am not related in any way shape or form to Pat Robertson. Not that I have any particular problem with Pat overall, but he has the worst judgement and sense of timing since General George Custer's now famous line, "I think the Indians are finally ready to talk."
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
No end in sight to airline insults
I read a report on a recent AP News Minute that Delta Airlines is raising the price they charge passengers for checked baggage. If it weren't already insulting enough to be charged extra for checked baggage, now they're sticking it to us again by raising the stinking price. That's right, if you want to use any of that valuable cargo space in the empty cavern below the passenger compartment, it's going to cost you and it won't be cheap. I don't know about you, but I find it insulting on both counts.
Would it not be better for all involved if the airlines were forth right and charged us the full amount UP FRONT for the privilege of flying on their airplane. And don't they have at least one person in their company who can sit down and figure up how much they need to charge for a ticket in order to turn a profit, without nickel and diming us to death with all the darn add ons that really aren't even add ons in the first place. And wouldn't it seem reasonable if they simply ran their overall business in a way that resulted in them being competitive and profitable at the same time like most other well ran businesses. Who do they think they are, the United States Government?
Here's my suggestion for Delta Airlines and the rest of the airline industry: figure up the total price you need in order to fly me from Bentonville, Arkansas to Dallas Texas and then CHARGE ME THAT AMOUNT OF MONEY FOR THE DARN TICKET! And while your at it, stop giving me the old "Bernie Madoff" on my diet coke. It's ridiculous to have to get out my wallet on an airplane and it's even more ridiculous to have to give you $2 more for a soda in the air than it's worth on the ground. Remember when you used to just figure the price of a soft drink into the price of the ticket. That's how most businesses in the world do it-it's called "cost of doing business". Walmart doesn't charge you 2 cents at the register for every plastic bag you use to carry out all the stuff you bought there that's made in China-it's included in the price of the stuff you buy! And Chili's doesn't charge you separately for napkins and straws-they include it in the price of the tortilla chips and Southwest Egg Rolls!
Finally, if you're wondering why most airlines now run their business like a cafeteria instead of an airline, here it is: they don't think we're smart enough to figure out how much they're actually going to charge us to fly on their airplane until it's too late. And if you do figure out how much it's going to cost you to fly to see your grandma and you change your mind after you've purchased your ticket, guess what-they're going to charge you for CHANGING YOUR MIND!
Is there no end to the airline insults? Do they really think we're this stupid and naive? Do they honestly think we won't be able to add up all those numbers once we're on the airplane? Do they not realize most of us have a calculator on our phone? Are they clueless about the success of Southwest Airlines?
The bottom line is this folks: as long as we keep buying it, they'll keep on selling it. And that my fellow flyers, is the stinking truth!
Would it not be better for all involved if the airlines were forth right and charged us the full amount UP FRONT for the privilege of flying on their airplane. And don't they have at least one person in their company who can sit down and figure up how much they need to charge for a ticket in order to turn a profit, without nickel and diming us to death with all the darn add ons that really aren't even add ons in the first place. And wouldn't it seem reasonable if they simply ran their overall business in a way that resulted in them being competitive and profitable at the same time like most other well ran businesses. Who do they think they are, the United States Government?
Here's my suggestion for Delta Airlines and the rest of the airline industry: figure up the total price you need in order to fly me from Bentonville, Arkansas to Dallas Texas and then CHARGE ME THAT AMOUNT OF MONEY FOR THE DARN TICKET! And while your at it, stop giving me the old "Bernie Madoff" on my diet coke. It's ridiculous to have to get out my wallet on an airplane and it's even more ridiculous to have to give you $2 more for a soda in the air than it's worth on the ground. Remember when you used to just figure the price of a soft drink into the price of the ticket. That's how most businesses in the world do it-it's called "cost of doing business". Walmart doesn't charge you 2 cents at the register for every plastic bag you use to carry out all the stuff you bought there that's made in China-it's included in the price of the stuff you buy! And Chili's doesn't charge you separately for napkins and straws-they include it in the price of the tortilla chips and Southwest Egg Rolls!
Finally, if you're wondering why most airlines now run their business like a cafeteria instead of an airline, here it is: they don't think we're smart enough to figure out how much they're actually going to charge us to fly on their airplane until it's too late. And if you do figure out how much it's going to cost you to fly to see your grandma and you change your mind after you've purchased your ticket, guess what-they're going to charge you for CHANGING YOUR MIND!
Is there no end to the airline insults? Do they really think we're this stupid and naive? Do they honestly think we won't be able to add up all those numbers once we're on the airplane? Do they not realize most of us have a calculator on our phone? Are they clueless about the success of Southwest Airlines?
The bottom line is this folks: as long as we keep buying it, they'll keep on selling it. And that my fellow flyers, is the stinking truth!
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
Step 4-How to get fatter than you ever thought possible!
This is the fourth installment in the series, "How to get fatter than you ever thought possible"! If you've made it this far, you're doing great. Steps 1, 2 and 3 may have been somewhat difficult to master for some of you however, this next step should be easy even if you've been skinny all your life.
Step 4:
When it comes to dessert, learn to say "yes" without taking time to think about it.
The next time you're eating supper at Chili's, and the waiter 'who's taking care of you tonight' comes over with an assorted dessert tray of 3 pound pie and cake wedges, be prepared to say, "Why yes, I think I WOULD like to look at a desert menu!" Let the ridiculously skinny guy eating by himself at one of those little kiddie tables be the one to embarrass himself by saying, "Oh no, I've had one too many lettuce wraps this evening. I don't have any room left for even one bite of that Ooey-Goey Chocolate and Chewy Volcano Cake, but thanks for asking."
One of the most important things you'll need to remember on your way to getting fatter than you ever thought possible is...THERE'S ALWAYS ROOM FOR DESSERT!
Step 4:
When it comes to dessert, learn to say "yes" without taking time to think about it.
The next time you're eating supper at Chili's, and the waiter 'who's taking care of you tonight' comes over with an assorted dessert tray of 3 pound pie and cake wedges, be prepared to say, "Why yes, I think I WOULD like to look at a desert menu!" Let the ridiculously skinny guy eating by himself at one of those little kiddie tables be the one to embarrass himself by saying, "Oh no, I've had one too many lettuce wraps this evening. I don't have any room left for even one bite of that Ooey-Goey Chocolate and Chewy Volcano Cake, but thanks for asking."
One of the most important things you'll need to remember on your way to getting fatter than you ever thought possible is...THERE'S ALWAYS ROOM FOR DESSERT!
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Step 3-How to get fatter than you ever thought possible!
This is the third installment in the series, "How to get fatter than you ever thought possible"! If you've made it this far, it's probably safe to assume you've consulted with your doctor before moving onto step 3. Congratulations for making it through steps 1 and 2!
Step 3:
The next time you go shopping at Walmart, park as close to the store as humanly possible. Avoid the temptation of parking way out by the road. Your goal of putting on several additional pounds, is going to be much more difficult to accomplish if you insist on parking so far away from the stores entrance. Not parking close to the store puts you in the undesirable position of having to walk across the parking lot and that simply goes against the rules of this multi-step wait gain program. Remember, walking burns calories and the only way you can offset the affect of losing calories is by exerting less and eating more. Those far out parking spots are there for a reason and that reason is this; so skinny folks won't be tempted to park in the handicapped parking spots.
Come on, I know you can do it and it's not that difficult. It just takes focus. And if all the close parking spots are taken when you first get to the store, be patient and wait. Sitting around in you car waiting for a close up parking spot is a great way to avoid burning those excess calories. Also, the time you spend waiting in your car is a great time to pork down a few more of those delicious moon pies. And don't worry about running out--the moon pie folks can always make more, trust me!
Step 3:
The next time you go shopping at Walmart, park as close to the store as humanly possible. Avoid the temptation of parking way out by the road. Your goal of putting on several additional pounds, is going to be much more difficult to accomplish if you insist on parking so far away from the stores entrance. Not parking close to the store puts you in the undesirable position of having to walk across the parking lot and that simply goes against the rules of this multi-step wait gain program. Remember, walking burns calories and the only way you can offset the affect of losing calories is by exerting less and eating more. Those far out parking spots are there for a reason and that reason is this; so skinny folks won't be tempted to park in the handicapped parking spots.
Come on, I know you can do it and it's not that difficult. It just takes focus. And if all the close parking spots are taken when you first get to the store, be patient and wait. Sitting around in you car waiting for a close up parking spot is a great way to avoid burning those excess calories. Also, the time you spend waiting in your car is a great time to pork down a few more of those delicious moon pies. And don't worry about running out--the moon pie folks can always make more, trust me!
Step 1-How to get fatter than you ever thought possible!
This is the first installment in a series of "How to get fatter than you ever thought possible!"
Over the years, it's been my observation that there are substantially more than enough books, magazines, assorted articles and television programs that tell us how to lose weight. I don't recall any however, that clearly explain for the few but proud under weight Americans, how to gain weight. If you've made it your New Year's resolution to put on a few pounds, then it's my hope this series of "how to steps" will help you reach your goal. Remember, it's never too late to gain weight!
Step 1:
Don't eat anything that doesn't have a label on it. If you can't read what all the ingredients are, how could you possibly be sure you're getting the daily maximum amount of calories you'll need in order to start putting on those extra pounds you so drastically want to put on. Remember, fresh is for fools--if it's in a box it rocks!
Be watching for step two, "Get off that tread mill", coming soon to an Old and Ridiculous blog near you!
Over the years, it's been my observation that there are substantially more than enough books, magazines, assorted articles and television programs that tell us how to lose weight. I don't recall any however, that clearly explain for the few but proud under weight Americans, how to gain weight. If you've made it your New Year's resolution to put on a few pounds, then it's my hope this series of "how to steps" will help you reach your goal. Remember, it's never too late to gain weight!
Step 1:
Don't eat anything that doesn't have a label on it. If you can't read what all the ingredients are, how could you possibly be sure you're getting the daily maximum amount of calories you'll need in order to start putting on those extra pounds you so drastically want to put on. Remember, fresh is for fools--if it's in a box it rocks!
Be watching for step two, "Get off that tread mill", coming soon to an Old and Ridiculous blog near you!
Are we really this gullible?
I stopped being amazed a while back at how gullible we apparently are as a society. For example, think about how often we're told by our news organizations about a "recent study" that show's (gasp) how a diet rich in fresh fruits and vegetables and low on red meat and other fatty foods, combined with moderate daily exercise, actually results in a healthier life style--UNBELIEVABLE!
Unbelievable not only because it's presented as "new information", but because most of us have known this stuff since we were old enough to read the label on a box of Captain Crunch. Does the media honestly think we're this ridiculously gullible? Do newsroom executives actually find themselves saying, "Hey guys, I've got a super fantastic and unbelievably great idea for a story--let's run one about the recent study done by (insert the name of your favorite research institute or university here) that shows how eating responsibly and exercising daily may actually help people live healthier and longer lives." Wow, what a break through!
Here's one last thing to think about: the only reason AMC stopped making the Gremlin is because people didn't buy it. If we stop buying crap as news, they'll stop pushing it on us!
Unbelievable not only because it's presented as "new information", but because most of us have known this stuff since we were old enough to read the label on a box of Captain Crunch. Does the media honestly think we're this ridiculously gullible? Do newsroom executives actually find themselves saying, "Hey guys, I've got a super fantastic and unbelievably great idea for a story--let's run one about the recent study done by (insert the name of your favorite research institute or university here) that shows how eating responsibly and exercising daily may actually help people live healthier and longer lives." Wow, what a break through!
Here's one last thing to think about: the only reason AMC stopped making the Gremlin is because people didn't buy it. If we stop buying crap as news, they'll stop pushing it on us!
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Is it cold out there or is it just me?
Is it just me or has it been real, real cold lately. Of course it's usually cold here in Northwest Arkansas in December and January but it seems to me like it's been extra cold. I just saw the weather forecast and the high in our area for this coming Thursday is supposed to be like 5. That's American 5, not Canadian 5. Regardless of whether your thermometer was made in China for Canadians or was made in China for Americans, 5 is dang cold. I'm just thankful for Global Warming. If it wasn't for that, just think how cold it might be!
Monday, January 4, 2010
As long as we keep buying it, they'll keep selling it.
It's January and if you've been paying attention the last several years, you know January brings us one thing for sure...diet adds.
If you watch even a little television, pull up an occasional free web site or pick up a January issue of just about any magazine available, you'll be reminded that beyond a shadow of a doubt, you've been eating way too much of all the wrong stuff for the past few weeks and everybody knows about it. Thankfully, the consumer products industry is once again coming to our rescue.
Each year immediately following the close of "The Holidays" (the holidays commonly refer to Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years and Hanukkah-I think) we know we're going to be inundated by the media with the latest and greatest dieting plans and gimmicks. Of course, we're all waiting anxiously in hopes of discovering a completely pain free technique that will result in our taking of the extra weight we recently porked on. Remember, it all began with that first huge piece of pumpkin pie at Mom's house back in November and ended with 19 beers, a block of cheese and 4 pounds of summer sausage on New Years Eve.
As Americans living in the land of plenty, most of us apparently don't have the ability or knowledge to understand why we're overweight and haven't the foggiest idea of how to begin the process of losing the extra weight we decided we no longer want. Come on Kirstie Alley, Valarie Bertinelli and Danny Marino...tell me what to do and quick, before I discover I'm eligible for my very own Jenny Craig commercial!
And while I'm thinking about it, isn't it somewhat insulting that Jenny has actually ran weight loss specials in the past where she advertises she'll let us lose the first 10 pounds free of charge? Gosh, thanks Ms. Craig. Although it's super generous of you, it seems to me I ought to be able to lose all the weight I want and not have to pay anyone a stinking dime. It's my weight, I'll lose all of it if I choose and I won't pay you one red cent! But that's just me and probably further proof...I'm simply ridiculous.
If you watch even a little television, pull up an occasional free web site or pick up a January issue of just about any magazine available, you'll be reminded that beyond a shadow of a doubt, you've been eating way too much of all the wrong stuff for the past few weeks and everybody knows about it. Thankfully, the consumer products industry is once again coming to our rescue.
Each year immediately following the close of "The Holidays" (the holidays commonly refer to Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years and Hanukkah-I think) we know we're going to be inundated by the media with the latest and greatest dieting plans and gimmicks. Of course, we're all waiting anxiously in hopes of discovering a completely pain free technique that will result in our taking of the extra weight we recently porked on. Remember, it all began with that first huge piece of pumpkin pie at Mom's house back in November and ended with 19 beers, a block of cheese and 4 pounds of summer sausage on New Years Eve.
As Americans living in the land of plenty, most of us apparently don't have the ability or knowledge to understand why we're overweight and haven't the foggiest idea of how to begin the process of losing the extra weight we decided we no longer want. Come on Kirstie Alley, Valarie Bertinelli and Danny Marino...tell me what to do and quick, before I discover I'm eligible for my very own Jenny Craig commercial!
And while I'm thinking about it, isn't it somewhat insulting that Jenny has actually ran weight loss specials in the past where she advertises she'll let us lose the first 10 pounds free of charge? Gosh, thanks Ms. Craig. Although it's super generous of you, it seems to me I ought to be able to lose all the weight I want and not have to pay anyone a stinking dime. It's my weight, I'll lose all of it if I choose and I won't pay you one red cent! But that's just me and probably further proof...I'm simply ridiculous.
Now that's ridiculous!
It's obvious to me that as a society, we must surly be the most gullible human beings on the face of the planet. Last night while I was watching the final regular season NFL game of the year on Sunday night football, I witnessed a commercial that made me laugh and at the same time, made me feel a little embarrassed to be a consumer of the American entertainment industry. I don't recall the exact wording of the commercial, but the gist was this: a new diet program that involves going through the drive-thru at Taco Bell instead of your normal fast food place in an effort to lose weight. I'm not kidding. This gal on the commercial is suggesting we utilize the Taco-Bell drive through as part of our ongoing weight loss program. The thought that immediately occurred to me was, "ARE YOU STINKING KIDDING ME?" Could there be even one clear thinking person in America who is actually going to believe this? I literally thought it was a joke and kept waiting for some infomercial pitchman to come on and say something like, "Tune in this week while Senator's Harry Read and Barney Frank host Saturday Night Live!" That didn't happen and apparently it wasn't a joke which leads me to conclude, we must surly be the most gullible group of folks on planet earth!
Hey, I just thought of a great commercial for Macadoodle's (the highest volumn liquor store in the entire state of Missouri). They could do a commercial featuring some old fat guy with a red nose laying on a couch with one of those extra large bottles of Jack Daniel's in his hand, while he says, "I stopped drinking with the help of Macadoodle's. All I did was utilize their convenient drive through 3 times a day for 16 weeks, and just look at me now...I'm completely sober for the first time since 3rd grade!"
As they say, you can't make this crap up!
Hey, I just thought of a great commercial for Macadoodle's (the highest volumn liquor store in the entire state of Missouri). They could do a commercial featuring some old fat guy with a red nose laying on a couch with one of those extra large bottles of Jack Daniel's in his hand, while he says, "I stopped drinking with the help of Macadoodle's. All I did was utilize their convenient drive through 3 times a day for 16 weeks, and just look at me now...I'm completely sober for the first time since 3rd grade!"
As they say, you can't make this crap up!
Saturday, January 2, 2010
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