See you Monday!

Been a LONG tiring weekend. I will update tomorrow afternoon. In the meantime, how about a little Foggy Mountain Breakdown!

The Slacker Returns?????

I'm still in my funk, so I am taking the day off from The Daily Skid Mark. Sorry to my readers who came here expecting something exciting, or more than likely, boring. I leave you today with a great story that was told by Steve Martin. One of my favorite comedy bits, The Cruel Shoes.

Enjoy!

Anna knew She had to have a new pair of shoes today, and Carlo had helped her try on every pair in the store. Carlo spoke wearily, "Well, that's it. That’s every pair of shoes in the place."

"Oh, you must have one more pair. . . .” 

"No, not one more . . . . Well, we have the cruel shoes, but no one would want to try . . . 

“Yes, let me see the cruel shoes!" 

"No, you don't understand, you see, the cruel shoes are . . .' 

"Get them!" 

Carlo disappeared into the back room for a moment, and then reappeared carrying an ordi­nary shoebox. He took off the lid and re­moved a hideous pair of black and white pumps. But this was not an ordinary pair of black and white pumps; both were left feet, one had a right angle turn with sepa­rate compartments that pointed the toes in impossible directions. The other shoe was six inches long and was curved inward like a rocking chair with a vise and razor blades to hold the foot in place.

Carlo spoke hesitantly, ". . . Now you see . . . they' re not fit for humans . . ." "Put them on me." 

"But... "Put them on me!"

Carlo knew all arguments were useless. He knelt down before her and forced the feet into the shoes. 

The screams were incredible. 

Anna crawled over to the mirror and held her bloody feet up where she could see.

"I like them." 

She paid Carlo and crawled out of the store into the street. 

Later that day, Carlo was overheard saying to a new customer, "Well, that's it. That’s every pair of shoes in the place. Unless, of course, you'd like to try the cruel shoes."

Please read and share. This is VERY important to me.

So, in my blog 2 days ago, I wrote about the passing of a good man, Scott Michael Trager. I linked to the Fox32/9&10 News site showing the announcement. I wanted to get the word out about how great of a man he was, and how we will all miss him. I then followed up with a link for a memorial fund for his family that people could help donate to. Because of this Google has punished me.

The Daily Skid Mark received over 2500 page hits that day, and additional 800 the yesterday. Because of the sudden traffic on my site, Google deemed in "false traffic" and "Invalid clicks" because every time I get a hit, I earn money through Google AdSense. This was the money I was earning to fund my ability to get computers to those who cannot afford them. I had earned $156. 00 in the time this blog was up. It was only a small percentage of the money the advertisers that I allowed on my page made just to have their products shown.

They took my account, and suspended it for goo. taking the money I had earned, and gave to it to the advertisers, as well as them keeping the money they earned from being on my blog. I made my appeal explaining exactly why the Internet traffic had increased, and they didn't care. here is the content of the e-mail they sent me 2 nights ago:

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hello,

With our advertising programs, we strive to create an online ecosystem that benefits publishers, advertisers and users. For this reason, we sometimes have to take action against accounts that demonstrate behavior toward users or advertisers that may negatively impact how the ecosystem is perceived. In your case, we have detected invalid activity on your site and your account has been disabled.

We're limited in the amount of information we can provide about your specific violation. We understand this can be frustrating for you, but we've taken these precautionary measures because intentional violators can use this information to circumvent our detection systems.

In some cases, publishers can make significant changes to correct the violation and are willing to comply with the AdSense program policies (google.com/adsense/policies). For this reason, we offer an appeals process as an opportunity to work with you to resolve the issue. To help you with the process, we’ve created a list of the top reasons for account closure for you to review before submission at http://support.google.com/adsense/bin/answer.py?answer=2660562. Please be sure to provide a thorough analysis in your appeal, which you can submit at https://support.google.com/adsense/bin/request.py?contact_type=appeal_form and we will follow up accordingly.

Thanks for your understanding,
The Google AdSense Team"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And then this afternoon, this is what I received from them after I filed my appeal:

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hello,

Thank you for your appeal. We appreciate the additional information you've
provided, as well as your continued interest in the AdSense program.
However, after thoroughly re-reviewing your account data and taking your
feedback into consideration, our specialists have confirmed that we're
unable to reinstate your AdSense account.

Please know that, once we've reached a decision on your appeal, further
appeals may not be considered, and you might not receive any further
communication from us. Note that AdSense publishers whose accounts are
disabled for violations of our Terms and Conditions are not eligible for
further participation in AdSense. For this reason, you may not open new
accounts.

Also, accounts disabled for invalid click activity will receive no further
payment nor any reissue of previous payment. Your outstanding balance and
Google's share of the revenue will both be fully refunded back to the
affected advertisers. Thank you for your understanding in this matter.

We understand that you may want more information about your account
activity. However, because we have a need to protect our proprietary
detection systems, we're unable to provide our publishers with any details
about their account activity."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That was it. Too bad, so sad. Put up a tribute to a great man who passed suddenly? We don't care, because in our eyes, you were just another way for advertisers to make money from you. What a bunch of tools.

I am from here on out boycotting any use of Google for my search engine, as well as YouTube and any other products that Google owns, or advertises. I know that The Daily Skid Mark is on a Google Blogger site, so in that case they have me by the balls, but at least this way they will see how upset I am. Will they get the hint and reinstate my account? Probably not. I don't have the following I need to make an impact on the BILLIONS they earn every year. They don't understand that it is us, the everyday clickers that made them what they are today. Google no longer cares for the average user. They care ONLY about money.

PLEASE, I implore you to share today's blog with as many as you can and get the word out about what has happened to me, because it can and WILL happen to you. This has put me in such a funk that I can hardly think straight. They take away money that was intended for those less fortunate, and I even TOLD them what I was using the money for, and they just brushed those people aside.

GOOGLE IS NOTHING BUT A HEARTLESS GROUP OF MONEY GRUBBING TOOLS. AND I AM BOYCOTTING THEIR PRODUCTS AND SERVICES. And Mark my words, I will take my blog to another account once I am able to, furthering my frustration with them.

Once again, PLEASE SHARE TODAY'S BLOG! It is VERY important that people see how a once enterprising small search engine, has turned into just another faceless corporate monster.

Thank you.

STONEHENGE! Part 2 and Google punishing for my tribute to a deceased friend.

So, the parties continued through the summer and into the fall. Even if I had a bad cold, the parties would happen. It seemed that everyone would show up and have a great time. Later in the summer the engine seized on my Olds 442. I parked it outside Stonehenge, and it became nothing more than something to lean on during our get togethers

We used to make prank calls when we were drunk, and often made them LATE at night. One late evening the people at the party decided to call the Navy recruiters at home and scream NAVY SUCKS at the top of our lungs. 2 days later my girlfriend and I were hanging out when my phone rang. It was one of the recruiters. Apparently they recognized a voice in the background from the call, and confronted him. Of course my "friend" said it was all my idea, and I took the full force of one PISSED off Navy Petty Officer. Thanks pal.

Every weekend the place looked like a parking lot with literally a hundred people hanging out in it. Once someone even stole a car and drove it out to Stonehenge to drink and have a great time. They ended up abandoning the car in Saint Joe behind an apartment complex. The police came out to investigate the report that the car was last seen at my place. I remember him showing up one morning when there was like 7 of us passed out inside. I told him what I knew, and that was that. After he left I noticed someone had left a bong sitting on the table by the door, and there was NO way he missed seeing it. It was time to start regulating the gatherings. It was starting to get out of hand.

Apparently, I had a suspended license from yet ANOTHER speeding ticket I neglected to pay. I was driving a friend home one night that had been drinking, and as we crossed a rise in the road, there was a police car that was on the yellow line as we passed. I swerved toward the shoulder to avoid hitting him, and he in turn pulled me over for reckless driving. It was then that he informed me that my license was suspended, but because he was in a hurry, he wrote me an appearance ticket.

My court date was 2 weeks from the date of the ticket. On the way, the car I was in broke down, and I had to walk home 3 miles. I called an told the courthouse what had happened and was told to get there first thing in the morning. Now, this was a trap because clerks at the Berrien County Courthouse CANNOT give legal advice on what to do if you can't show up. So basically a bench warrant was issued THAT morning for my arrest. I show up the next morning, and I am thrown right in a holding cell. Held with a $250 bail. Swell. Thanks clerks.

This was a Wednesday I believe. I sat there with no one able or willing to bail me out. By Friday they sent me upstairs to the jail area to await my Monday court date. That's when I learned that you can trade a meal for 5 cigarettes. I sat there until Sunday evening when I was FINALLY bailed out.

David Adler came to pick me up with some other friends. We stopped at Burger King, and he bought me some dinner, and then to Pri-Mart gas station for some smokes. I just wanted to get back to Stonehenge and take a shower and sleep. However this was not to be.

David informed me that they had a HUGE blowout party, and that some things went down. I arrived home to find the curtains were gone from the window, the screen door was tore from it's hinges. Apparently the police came out because they had tried to drag the refrigerator out into the driveway, and things got out of hand BIG time. The landlord came out, and with the cops help, removed everyone from the premises because I was not there. So here I am standing in the drizzle, looking at my stuff through the window sitting in a pile in the middle of the apartment. Everyone else was kind enough to leave my stuff behind, while making sure THEIR stuff was safe. I tried to get in, but there was no way. I walked around the back to climb in through the bathroom window, when someone showed up in a truck telling us to leave the property. I told him that I lived here, and I wanted to get my stuff. he said he worked for the landlord and that it was his job to make sure I stayed away. He called the police when I argued with him. The police showed up and took MY side when I told him what happened. The landlords guy informed the police that I had been in jail all weekend, but the officer told him that it didn't matter because without an eviction notice, I still had all rights to be there.

The front door had an 8" nail pounded into the door frame. sealing it shut.

The officer helped my climb in through the bathroom window because there was NO way that 8" nail was coming out of the door. I get inside and see the destrution caused while I was gone. It was like the place had been ransacked, and reeked of smoke and stale beer. All of my stuff was pretty much ruined. i was only able to salvage my clothes, and some thing I had in a drawer. That was it. My couch, bedding, stereo and tv were ruined. I climbed back out into the drizzle to David's car, nearly crying.

I was now homeless. The friends that I thought I had mostly bailed on me. Only 4 of them came to my rescue, and helped me with places to stay until I got back on my feet. I had my car towed to a friends house where I would end up living in a few months. But that is another HORRIFYING story that I will address later.

I decided that I was going to move away from the area, and start all over again. I had spoken with my Grandmother about moving north to Big Rapids and helping her as my Grandfather had passed a couple of years before this. I had made plans to have a car, and the money to move, but in the months following, things got complicated and before I had a chance to go and help take care of my Grandmother, she passed away as well. I was devastated. To this day I regret not getting my shit to gather soon enough to get to her, and help here. She died of cancer in the hospital. Thank God my Aunt Sally , my Uncle Archie and my cousins Chad and Tammy were there with her. I was afraid that she was alone.

Needless to say, that was the end of Stonehenge. The place now sits abandoned. All of the other buildings on Fire Lane 13 also sit empty. The good old days were gone forever. I made my mistakes, and found out who my real friends were. I found out later, that one of those friends, Jimmy Dixon took his own life. He was a great person that ALWAYS had a smile on his face, and a joke for everyone. I think there was a girl involved that just shattered his heart, and he couldn't take it. He walked out to the road by his house, and shot himself in the head. RIP my friend. I still miss you.

If anyone reading this blog today remembers the insane parties at Stonehenge, I would love to have you share some memories. I know there are some picture floating around as well. I will publish any of these if you can get them to me. Until then, just remember the good times that we had at Stonehenge.

by the way, my AdSense has been disabled due to heavy traffic yesterday that Google considered "fishy" There were almost 200- hits to The Daily Skid Mark yesterday because of my tribute to a friend that had passed. This angers me as I use any revenue from the ad clicks to help people with getting a computer for free. If this angers you as much as it does me, feel free to express your opinion in the comment section, or just post to my Facebook wall.

See you tomorrow!

The Passing Of A Great Human Being

I was going to write part 2 of the Stonhenge Saga today, but I just can't do it. I am saddened to announce the passing of Scott Michael Trager. He was the 9&10 News/Fox 32 Anchor her in Northern Michigan. Once of the NICEST guys I have ever met, he will be missed. He is survived by his wife an his triplets. The announcment from 9&10 News/Fox 32 is below.

Please keep his family in your prayers. I am so shocked by his passing.

Northern Michigan Says Goodbye to Scott Michael Trager

Posted: Sep 26, 2012 2:57 PM EDTUpdated: Sep 26, 2012 3:37 PM EDT

With heavy hearts we are sad to report 9&10 News/Fox 32 Anchor Scott Michael Trager died unexpectedly this morning. He was an accomplished journalist, caring family-man, and a friend to many.

 

Scott Michael Trager began his career at 9&10 News in 1990 and was currently the co-anchor of Northern Michigan's favorite morning show Michigan This Morning. Over the twenty plus years he spent at 9&10 News he earned many accolades including two Emmy Awards from the National Television Academy Michigan Chapter. He also helped create the award winning Sports Overtime show while Sports Director at 9&10 News in the mid 1990's.

In spite of these many accomplishments, Trager may be remembered the best for his ability to mix a wonderful sense of humor with his professional journalism as he bantered with Co-Anchors over the 14 years he sat at the Michigan This Morning desk. His unique style will be missed by coworkers and viewers alike.

 

"For over 20 years Scott Michael Trager has been part of the 9&10 News family. From his dynamic sports reporting to his professional yet funny personality he showed at the anchor desk, his impact will never be forgotten," says Mario Iacobelli Station Owner.

 

"This is a sad day for everyone who has worked with Scott Michael Trager and for our viewers who have woken up with him each morning. He will be deeply missed," says Bill Kring, General Manager 9&10 News. "Our thoughts and prayers go out to Scott's family as they work through this difficult time."

 

Scott is survived by his wife and three children.

STONEHENGE!

Fire Lane 13.

That was where I lived after High School. Out on Blue Star Highway RIGHT on the Coloma and Covert Township border. In the heart of nowhere, just a few miles south of Palisades Nuclear Power Plant in South Haven. A studio apartment with a separate bathroom, and another apartment attached to it in the same building. It was made of large stones, with part of the wall inside made up of the same said stones. Hence the name we gave it. Stonehenge.

Now, some of you will remember partying out there. I know this because EVERY weekend we would throw the BIGGEST parties, and everyone would show up. It didn't matter who you were, we let anyone who wanted to have a great time come out.

The origins of Stonehenge were simple. My good friend Mark Williams was renting the place, and he had found a rental closer to town. He needed someone to take over the lease, and since I had been out there before hanging out after work, I was familiar with the place and liked it. (Mark was such a good friend of mine that later when I worked as an on-air  DJ, I used his name as my radio name.) My friend Jason Kwader and I moved in a week later on a rainy afternoon. The legend was born.

      A recent picture of the legendary Stonehenge. David Adler is seen here. Probably taking a crap.



We had a neighbor that was a COMPLETE psycho. He lived in the other apartment, and God help you if you knocked on the wrong door. Now, he was a nice guy when you talked to him, but if you approached HIM, he would flip out. A couple of my friends came out one night, and came to the wrong door. He slashed at them with a knife thinking they were assassins coming to get him. If I remember right, they were not hurt but it scared the CRAP out of them. We tried to avoid him at all costs.

Stonehenge was 20' x 12' in size. In that space, there were the usual appliances. The bed was actually in the wall, and it pulled out. Made for a GREAT time scaring the hell out of people. You would be standing there talking and suddenly the bed would fall out of the wall with someone on it. Yeah, it was awesome.

Now think about the size. It was SMALL. But it didn't matter. We had a HUGE driveway and parking area where the parties always spilled over to. We would regularly cram 50 people in that little space, and one occasion even had a live band inside! Yeah, a LIVE BAND stuffed into that small space. So many parties.That was all we did out there, and never once did the police come out for noise. That was the advantage of being in the middle of nowhere. But in the same sense, there was alot of things that happened because of where we were located. I remember someone shooting a pellet gun at me from across the road. I could never tell where it was coming from because the weeds were so high, and I had to have the police question the people across the way. (Turned out later it was their kid that was doing it. We caught him ourselves, and "took care" of the problem). There were also some guys who had a marijuana field down the road. David Adler was coming out after work one night and he had the KILLER 1971 Caddy. It was all primer, and we had all written stuff all over it. It was THE ride. Anyway, he had these lights on the side of the front fender that lit up when you turned on the blinkers. The covers were gone from them, so when they lit up, it was like a spotlight. Well, Dave decided to flick on the blinkers while going by the area where this guy's growth operation was. Just in time to light up an area where one of the growers was walking up the ditch with a shotgun. He took a shot at Dave, and missed JUST over the roof of his car. He hit the gas and drove like a bat out of hell to Stonehenge. He ran inside, killed the lights and locked the doors. Of course we were all drunk, and wondering what the hell was going on. He told us and we all thought he was screwing around. Dave and I were looking out the window when suddenly an old Cutlass slowly came into the driveway. It pulled up behind Dave's Caddy and he was carrying a frigging shotgun! I freaked out, and we slowly pulled away from the window. I grabbed the phone and dialed the police. The guy lingered for almost 5 minutes before he left. The cops showed up 5 minutes after that. The county and both township officers showed up and investigated. They questioned all of us about the incident. And Dave, that glorious jack-ass somehow stole one of the officers Mag-Lite right out of his car. They never caught the guy that shot at Dave, and for the rest of the time that I lived out there, I feared that the guy would come back to get us one night.

            The band Spinal Tap's video for Stonehenge. This was ALWAYS on the party playlist!

Part 2 of The Legend Of Stonehenge continues tomorrow. I'll tell you all about how it's demise came to be, and who the leader of that band was. (His name was Mike!)

See you tomorrow!

BLOG ALERT!

Well, I'm still feeling a little under the weather today, and my eyes are a little swollen up, so there won't really be a blog update today. Unless you consider THIS an update. I don't, but technically I guess it is.

I'm going to take the short time I have today to thank everyone who follows this blog. I love to tell my stories and make you smile. Alot of the things I write about here, I have not spoken about in years. There are even some things I never spoke of before. I have tons of things to say, and I hope you continue to read, and enjoy them.

So far this blog has raised just over $100 using AdSense. That is enough to purchase 2-3 computers that I can fix and then donate. This is very important to me, and the help that you, the readers have given, means alot to me.

So if you have a memory that you would like to share, I would be more than happy to write about here. Because without you, this would be just another link in a sea of Internet pages.

Thank you. From my heart, I love you all.

And I KNOW about stupidity!

Stupid decisions. I know ALOT about stupid decisions. At one time I was the master of stupidity. No matter how I tried, I would always grab defeat out of the jaws of victory.

Buy a car I knew needed work I couldn't afford? Did that. 3 times as a matter of fact.

I bought an AWESOME 1967 Impala Convertible. The water pump was going, I knew it, and bought it anyway. 8 weeks later it went, and took the engine with it. I left it in a storage unit for a year before the bank found it. Nice move.

I brought a switchblade to school once. Not to use on anyone, just to show off. I was stupid enough to bring it into Spanish class, and Mr. Benson saw it, and took it from me. An hour later I was in the office waiting to see if they were going to call the police on me. They didn't but I ALMOST got expelled from school.

I was driving into the school parking lot after racing Mike Fehrenbach to school. I tried to pass a car in the parking lot itself, and hit the car in the left fender. I gave the girl my info, and just left school ad went home. I had NO insurance on my car. Stupid? Yes....very.When the police officer called me he explained that I was almost charged with leaving the scene of an accident, but was letting me slide because I had given her my information.

I once got an illegal "backing" ticket on Silver Beach. The road had just been converted to a One Way road, and I was stupid enough to back my car up in the dark, the wrong way. I hit a car in the door. They got a ticket for illegal parking, and I got the other one. I neglected to pay this $25 fine. After several warning via mail, and an increase to $200 there was a bench warrant issued for my arrest. I continued to blow this off off for weeks. Now, I am going to wander for a second here. You always here about these idiots that get pulled over and busted with 300lbs of drugs. Why were they pulled over? Usually a stupid headlight burned out or maybe they were speeding. Why wouldn't you fix the headlight to avoid getting pulled over???? Well, I proudly joined that stupid group of individuals that could have avoided trouble, but chose to be an idiot instead.

My muffler had blown out and my 1977 Olds 442 was pretty damn loud. Every night when I drove home from Meijer I would take a certain route going home. I knew every hiding spot the police used to catch speeders. I thought I was sooooooooooo smart. Pipestone to Napier to M-139 to Scottdale to Glenlord and home. I would always know what to do when I came up on the police traps. I just put the car in neutral and coasted past the area, the car would be as silent as a church mouse. Then I just put it back in drive, and cruise home. Then, my arrogance got the best of me. I came up on the usual area of M-139 by the old Kreamo Bakery outlet, and put it in neutral. I looked over and didn't see the police car this time. I thought to myself, "Hell, I got it made!" I put it back gear and hit the gas. The engine roared to life as I slammed the accelerator. Just in time to look to my left and see the cop car sitting at The Holiday Inn. Now at 11pm at night, a V8 with no muffler is pretty damn loud. I saw him, and I was doomed, I knew it and he knew it. He followed me all the way to Ace Hardware before he pulled me over. My license was run, and bam.....I was being put into the back of a police car. Off to Berrien County Jail. I had to be at school in 8 hours and I was off to jail. After booking and pictures I was being held for the outstanding ticket, and bail was $200. Who could I call? Nobody. Except my Father. I called him at about 12:30am. he was pissed. I mean PISSED! I sat there as the hours passed. Finally at 7am he came and got me. He purposely made me sit there all night, and dropped me off to my car. Not ONE word was spoken. I had to go right to school in my work clothes, and with no sleep. The cheeseburgers that I had picked up at BK were still in my front seat. Cold as ice. That entire day sucked knowing my ass was going to be kicked when I got home that afternoon. And it was.

So, let this be a lesson to you about stupidity. Because this was NOT the last time I was thrown in jail for a lousy traffic ticket. My stupidity continued for years. Don't let yours consume you.

Lazy slacker blogger and his lame excuses.

I am sick today. I feel like a bag of cement is sitting on my chest. There will be no funny story today. Nope, I'm slacking. I however will tell you that I almost stepped in cat vomit this afternoon. Pretty yucky.

Anyways, have a great Saturday, and drink plenty of fluids! And if anyone wants to get me a "Get well" gift, I would LOVE a plate of nachos. Clears out the old sinuses!

Squirt guns and Blossomtime Queens

Suddenly a crash, and there was a car in the window of our High School's English class.

At least I think it was the English class. All I know is there was a HUGE crashing sound. When all was said and done, Mike Hubbard's car was sitting in the window. Details have faded away as to what exactly happened, but I think i slipped out of gear and rolled into the school. It was a mess. It was after school as over if I remember correctly, but what a mess it made.

Man, the things we got away with that would NEVER be tolerated today. It seems like at least once a week someone would light a smokbomb and roll it down the stairs to the first floor, filling the hallways with an acrid cloud of sulfur smelling smoke. There was even one occasion where someone shot a bottle rocket down the hallway, ricocheting it off of the lockers next to me.

Boom boxes cranking out Van Halen or Rush was a constant in the school. Pop in a cassette and just walk down the hallways between classes. That was pretty short lived, but yes, I had one too. We used to listen to it in auto shop. Deep Purple was our music of choice.

One time a friend and I decided to see how much Scope we could drink before school. Yeah, I know. Stupid. I think I almost made it to second hour before I threw up a minty mix of waffles and mouthwash. Drinking happened quite a bit. I even know of one teacher that drank Vodka in between class. I know this because we stole his Thermos one day just to see what it was.

One year, the Blossomtime Queens came to our school and gathered in the auditorium for a show. Us Boondockers devised a plan to sit towards the front of the stage with squirt guns, and spray them as they walked acvross the stage. But we were going to do it so they never knew where it was coming from. It was working pretty good, and it was pretty damn funny. For about 15 minutes we got away with it. I think it was Joe Ehrenberg that suddenly stood up and started ripping on the trigger spraying water everywhere. Why? I dunno. But it was hilarious! Of course, the assistant principal caught us, and we had to sit there until everyone was dismissed from the room. Then we were gathered up and marched down to the office. We decided to make it worth our while, so we put our hands on our heads like we were prisoners, and walked single file behind him. The hallways were filled with kids, laughing and cheering us. Was it worth it? Yeah....it was a good time.

The best time I ever had though, was the mornings before class. Steve Heier and I would listen to Rush on my boom box and play Frisbee in the gym. It was always a great time. Nothing but a big space to chuck a plastic disc. So simple and yet so fun. I just found out the other day that Steve is moving to Florida for good. Steve, if you're reading this. I'm going to miss you. I love you like a brother. Toss a Frisbee for me.

Anyway, High School was fun, but not very productive for me. I remember my Junior year, I never even opened my locker once. I never even bothered to remember the combination. Somehow I squeaked through, but if I had to do it differently?

Not a chance. I had a blast.

Today's blog is dedicated to Mr. Harmon. he was my favorite teacher in school. As well as Mr, Durr my English teacher who suffered through so may mornings of my horrible attitude. Wherever you guys are, thank you for being some of the best teachers I have ever known.

Burning pencils and Beef and chedder sandwiches.

I was leaving the house this morning to run some errands, when Def Leppard's "Too Late For Love" came on the stereo. It had been a while since I had heard it, and brought back some memories of high school. I would like to share some with you. Maybe you will remember some of these things, or maybe you were involved in them with me and the gang.

My Harju HATED me. In Electronics class I used to love hooking up pencils to the high voltage at our work station and cranked up the dial until the pencil cooked from inside out. Ah, good times. We would sneak out to the lunch room to get fresh cookies from the lunch ladies and fruit juice from the machine they had in the cafeteria. We had a pretty good run going on until one day he caught me. He just let me have it. I had the nerve to talk back to him, and it cost me. Yeah. He hated me, and it was well deserved. I was an asshole to him, and until the day I graduated he NEVER had a kind word for me.

Auto Shop with Mr. Schadle was pretty fun. I really wanted to build my own engine, but I was just not mechanically inclined. We used to work on our cars all of the time. I had my old Biscayne in there every other week for some stupid thing I wanted to do. Usually a stereo switch. After awhile, the teacher told me "I had better see solder next time, or you fail." So, I stopped bringing it in. We had a GREAT routine everyday, that is now legendary. We started sneaking out of class to go to Rooster's Party Store to get food. 2 people would run interference while someone else jumped in a car and took off for the store. Now, we had to do this REAL quick to make sure that the elected food smuggler wouldn't get caught. Usually a 10-15 minute window. We did this all year and NEVER once got caught as far as I remember. We started this tradition, and baby was the food AWESOME! If you live in Saint Joseph, you know what I'm talking about. The greatest beef and Cheddar sandwiches, and a killer ham sub. Getting out of the class was MUCH easier than getting back in. The timing had to be just right. I mean, you're smuggling in 2 bags of food and soda, and whatever else someone wanted. But we did it.

One time I was the elected to go to the store, and I was already getting ready to bring my car into the shop. I went to put it in reverse to take off, and backed right in to Mr. Schneider's Delta 88. Cracked the whole front fiberglass. Damn. I then had to go to his class and explain what happened, and he was less than a happy guy. He did however forgive me. He was a heck of a nice guy, and I always liked him alot.

Commercial printing. Mr. Schneider. I LOVED this class most of all. We used to make awesome goodies. I remember Mark Sanders was in my class, and we came up with the term, "Life's A Beach" and we were going to use it to make t-shirts and stickers. sadly, we were not allowed to use the words as they were a play on the term Life's A Bitch. There was a surf shop down near Silver Beach that eventually trademarked the term, and made serious bank from it. true story. Damn, I miss Mark Sanders. Steve Heier was also in my class, and he designed this AWESOME design with a rabbit on it. He made pads of paper with this design and I still have a pad to this day. Steve was a Boondocker, and I love that man. I still stay in touch with him. I consider him one of the best friends I have ever had.

One day we had a substitute teacher in class, and I saw an opportunity to do something I had wanted to try all year long. I took the classic "Let's Go Bears" sticker, altered the words, and made it say "Let's Get Beer" in the same design and font of the original. We were able to design it, make a silk screen and print it in just 45 minutes. Sadly we were only able to print off 10 bumper stickers before class was over. We had to make sure we destroyed the evidence before class was done, or we would be in danger of Mr. Schneider seeing the screen. I gave these stickers to my friends, and kept only one for myself. The last time I saw one, Ted Rasch had one at his house on his wall. I have NO idea if anyone has any of these stickers lying around. If you do, and you're reading this, please contact me. I would LOVE to at least see this legendary sticker one last time.

Lunch time, Mike Feherenbach and the gang would sit and we would write stupid song parodies. We wrote over 50 songs that made fun of everything. We wrote them about our friends. John Chaddock had his own song that was to the tune of Tom Sawyer from Rush. I still know the words by heart.

"A modern day geek-boy looks like death. Today's John Chaddock, bad bad breath....."

I could go on. Anyways, that was some of the things I remembered this morning. I'll have more memories tomorrow. And if you DO remember any of the things I wrote about today, just look back and smile. We were kings.

Pulling teeth and FULL FRONTAL NUDITY!

So, as fun as being young can be, there always weird things that cannot be explained by simple logic. There are always a weirdo or two that have to make for scary times. But then again, if it wasn't for the freak that I'm going to tell you about, we wouldn't have a story today, would we?

My Mom took me out of middle school one day because I had a dentist appointment. My dentist....what a tool. I had some baby teeth one time that were not coming out, and he had to pull them because the new ones were coming in over them. He gave me a shot to numb me, but it didn't take, and when I screamed in pain as he was twisting them out, he told me to "grow up."

Anyways, as we were getting ready to pull into our subdivision from Glenlord Road, I noticed someone hiding behind the "Hidden Acres" sign at our entrance. We drove in, and a guy jumps out from the sign butt-ass naked, holding up a magazine to his face, and just going to town on himself. I KNOW you know what I mean. I'll give him credit, he was pretty enthusiastic. My Mom slammed on the brakes and screamed. I was just floored by what I was seeing. Then just as fast as he appeared, he was gone. Running off into the woods.....his pale butt shining in the sunlight. We started driving to our house to call the police, when she noticed two kids riding there bikes towards the area where Mr. Happy was having fun in his own pleasure dome. She pulled over and warned them that there was a weirdo over there, and they need to stay away. Of course being kids, the just peddled faster in the direction of the drive-by penising that had occurred only seconds earlier. My Mom yelled at them to stay away, but her words fell on deaf ears.

So, she calls the police ans we give the best description we could. The police investigated the area, and as it turns out a guy matching the description live just around the corner. The picked him up and questioned him. Then the unthinkable happens.....

My friends Brad and Brent Franzen were over hanging out in the yard with me, as well as my sister and a couple of others. Here comes the Township Police pulling on to our road, and into our driveway. And who does he have in the car? "Flash" Gordon himself. The same guy that "pulled" a fast one at the corner and freaked us out. The officer gets out of the car and walks up to all of us children. He has me WALK OVER to the car and asks me if this was the guy I saw.

He was RIGHT there. In our driveway! Staring at me! At MY house! I look at he officer and say, "Yeah, that's him." My mother of course come out and FLIPS out the he brought  this weirdo to our driveway. "The officer actually says to her, "We're pretty sure he's harmless."

I could literally hear the asphalt crack as my mother's jaw dropped off of her head, and bounced into the yard. She told us to get in the house, and went off on the officer for 15 minutes. She was pissed. I was getting a Pepsi when the police left with Johnny Wang, and my mom was STILL pissed. I will never forget the phone call she made to the station afterwards.

I never saw that guy again, except in my nightmares where he would come to our house, naked selling magazines. Seriously, that was the dream I had the next night. For weeks to come, the subject was always about this guy with my friends. They wouldn't leave it alone. One afternoon we snuck into the woods to see where this guy lived, but we never saw him.

Ahhh.......Middle School. What a great time to be alive, and have a naked fruitcake dangle his tool at you in the waning hours of a warm spring day. The strangest part of the story? It was a Redbook he was "reading".

Big Hunt, Little Hunt and everything in between.

I am a very smart person.

That's not bragging, it's the truth. I have a way to figure things out in a split second, and I always have been. I was reading before I was 3 years old, and doing complicated math at 5.

But it's not always a good thing. To me while in school, it was a curse.

Now I say this only to explain some of the things I had to go through after I moved to Saint Joseph. You see, I was always able to blow through school without any problem. I just knew how to do everything they threw at me. But I started to get bored. It just wasn't a challenge for me anymore. When I started middle school, I was excited for new tests of my abilities. But it was more of the same. Math? I could blow through it. English? Science? It was too easy, and it started all over again.

I was just not interested.

My grades reflected this too. If I were given a math problem, I could figure it out in my head in 6 seconds. It was no problem. But you have to SHOW your work. I tried to show how I figured it out, but it wasn't the way the teacher wanted it done, so I just lost interest. Middle school was a torture for me mentally. But it wasn't all bad.

I met alot of the friends that I would have through High School at Upton. It was the base of what would become The Boondockers, and I would stay friends with most of them to this day.

If you went to Upton, you will remember Big Hunt and Little Hunt. 2 teachers with the same last name, but VERY different in size. Big Hunt was a mountain of a man with a heart of gold. I remember he had to discipline a student once that was so out of hand, he actually cried. Little Hunt was a pretty quiet guy, but he was a HELLUVA teacher with a no nonsense attitude.

There were other teachers I remember well, even I don't remember the names. There was a music teacher that I was convinced had a very good 70s, I remember Chris Omo being in the class singing Bee Gees tunes. Just cracked me up, but the teacher was  areal trip. He always had us analyze songs for their inner meanings. Billy Joel's "Moving Out" and Kansas "Dust In The Wind" were just a few of these. I liked music class alot. It was something new everyday. 

Our Phys Ed teacher, and I THINK this is how you spell it was Mr. Warenbien. I know his name, but forgot how to spell it. He always made sure he showed us the paddle he used to punish kids who would misbehave. It had a big MSU sticker on it. Scared the hell out of us. He was also the study hall teacher. One day I was screwing around in class, and he got mad at me. I had this stupid little string I was smacking against my desk. He took it away and said I could have it after study hall was over. When class was done, I went to get it back. He changed his mind and said that he was going to keep it instead. Well, that didn't fly with me and I told him so. Then I decided to grab his lunch that was in a plastic container and told him I was keeping it until he gave me the string back.

He punched me. Right smack in the shoulder. Hard. It stunned me and I dropped the container. He then dragged me down to talk to Mr, Koontz the principle. When I told him the teacher had punched me, he told me, in these exact words, "I would have knocked you on your ass!" Wow. I know I screwed up, but that was a little harsh. I had 8th hour that day, and walked home.

I got home and told my Mom why I had to stay over after school, and what had happened, she was pretty pissed off. At me, and at the school. I ended up with an apology from both the teacher, and Mr. Koontz. The rest of the time I spent in that school, I was treated very poorly by Mr. Koontz. He never forgot me, and made sure I knew it. Probably until the day he died.

We had shop classes too. Home Economics was great. I made a pie! I also made a cool gym bag that I had up until 6 years ago. But I really liked wood shop. We all made Swiss Clocks. The teacher, who for the life of me I cannot remember, was biased towards the kids that he didn't think had any talent. There were so many time I would see kids asking for help, and he would ridicule them, and then turn around and praise kids that were doing well. I'm not going to lie to you, I loved class, but really hated that teacher.

I loved the other teachers in that school. I got along with them all, and remember them fondly. I also remember playing "Assassin". Does anyone else remember that game? There was a target, and an assassin. The target could hire bodyguards to protect them, and everyone was "armed" with a gun that shot plastic darts. It was an awesome game. Try playing that game NOW in school.....forget about that. It was a simpler time. Man, I sound old.

Middle school had it's up and downs, but I made it. My grades were horrible because of how bored I was, but it was nothing compared to how bad it was going to be in High School.

What happen next? I run for Mayor! Check back tomorrow!

Fears and exploding condiment bombs.

Before I start my story today, I want to address something that I think is important I talk about.

Fear.

Fear can take any shape. It can be something as simple as being scared of spiders, or as complex as seeing things that are not really there. Fear can paralyze you, and effect even the simplest of everyday activities. I have several fears, some are simple. I'm afraid of heights, but I am also afraid to drive on highways. I used to NEVER be afraid of either of these things, but all it takes is one bad experience. That happened when I drove through Chicago. At night. After the Cubs playoff game. With traffic going 90mph 4 inches from my side mirror. It affected me so badly, that I had to drive back roads all of the way back to Charlevoix. 300+ miles. My poor friend Bryan had to suffer with me as we had gone and picked up a car I had bought.

I also fear dying in my sleep. I know that one day we will all die, and I accept that. My fear is that I will not be able to tell anyone goodbye, and how much they mean to me. I know that the same thing can happen with a car accident, or any other sudden death scenarios. But dying in my sleep scares the hell out of me.

No matter what the fear is, people need to understand that the things you fear can be so much worse with someone else. Everyone has something that absolutely horrifies them. It's important as a friend that you be there to help them when they need you. When someone is scared, a friendly voice can be enough to soothe and relax them.

 I was not that a very good friend last night.

I underestimated the fear that a very good friend was going through. I had no idea of the scope of fear and pain they had to endure. In the end, I like to think that I helped, but I felt tortured all night wondering if they were going to be ok, and why I didn't grasp the fact that they needed me to help, and I didn't react quick enough as I should have as a friend.

To my friend, I apologize. I am sorry with all of my heart, and I now understand what you need from me. To simply be there to help you. And I promise I will.

Fear will always be a part of human nature. It will never go away, just be understanding when someone asks for help. Even if they don't and think there might be something wrong, it never hurts to just ask them if they are ok.

Oh yeah, I also fear Willem Dafoe. I mean, look at him!

Holy CRAP! Imagine that coming at you in the night with a chainsaw?

Anyways, I digress.

I used to walk home from middle school whenever I had hat they would call "8th Hour" It's when you have an hour detention after school, and you miss the bus. I didn't always have a ride home, so I walked. Like many others, I went to Upton Middle School. It was a bit of a walk, but I did it on several occasions. Down Maiden Lane, to Hollywood Road, and then down Glenlord to get to our subdivision. In the late spring, it was a hot and dusty walk. Now this was also before this area was developed, and it was mostly farm field.

See the buildings on Maiden Lane? That complex by Maiden and Hollywood? That wasn't there. Just corn fields. The shoulder of the road was just dirt and gravel, and made for a painful walk. Plus to go back to what I was talking about before, you would hear things in the corn, but never see them. I was always waiting for a deer to come running out, or Willem Dafoe with a chainsaw coming to get me.

One HOT afternoon I was walking home. I always found some cool stuff during my walk. I once found an old Zippo lighter, and a $5 bill in one day. What did I find on THIS hot afternoon?

A Heinz Ketchup packet. It was bloated from the heat and looked hilarious. So. I kicked it off to the side into the weeds.

It exploded in a shower of goo, with a smell that paralleled that of a skunk having sex with a rotten head of lettuce, wrapped in a moldy tortilla. It was all over my shoes, my pants and the bottom of my shirt. I mean this sucker went off like a bomb. I just stood there, smelling like a McDonald's dumpster. I had to walk the rest of the way home smelling like this. The only one that seemed to enjoy it was our dog when I got home.

I threw my shoes and socks away.

The lesson here? Don't kick bloated condiment packages. Or better yet, stay out of trouble at school.

See you tomorrow!

BOOM goes the dynamite!

Before I go on with my continuing stories of fun in school, I need to cover two more things that I left out on weird health issues I have had. My buddy Bryan likes to think I'm trying to cover all illnesses in my life alphabetically. I'm only about 6 letters short, and I hope I never complete the set.

When I worked at WMBN in 1993, I was running the feed for the Detroit Tigers game. Near the end of the game, maybe the 8th inning, I was getting a weird pain in my right jaw. I kind of rubbed it, and kept working. About 10 minutes later, it kind of itched, and I flexed my jaw. What the hell? I had a hard time moving it. I went to open my mouth and the muscles in my face wouldn't flex correctly. within 20 minutes of the initial pain, I went from normal to what the hell? The entire right side of my face had gone dead. I could feel everything, but couldn't move my cheek, or my lips.

I finished the game, left work and went right to the hospital. By the time I got there, I was convinced I had a stroke. My facial muscles were now dead. I couldn't even close my right eye. I had to physically close the eyelid. Talk about freaking out. I was hurried into the room, where they did some of the usual tests.

Was it a stroke? Brain tumor? Exploding scrotum syndrome?

Nope. It was Bells Palsey.

Now right from Wikipdia for those that have no idea what this is:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bell's_palsy

"Bell's palsy is a form of facial paralysis resulting from a dysfunction of the cranial nerve VII (the facial nerve) that results in the inability to control facial muscles on the affected side. Several conditions can cause facial paralysis, e.g., brain tumor, stroke, and Lyme disease. However, if no specific cause can be identified, the condition is known as Bell's palsy. Named after Scottish anatomist Charles Bell, who first described it, Bell's palsy is the most common acute mononeuropathy (disease involving only one nerve) and is the most common cause of acute facial nerve paralysis.
Bell's palsy is defined as an idiopathic unilateral facial nerve paralysis, usually self-limiting. The hallmark of this condition is a rapid onset of partial or complete palsy that often occurs overnight. In rare cases (<1%), it can occur bilaterally resulting in total facial paralysis.^[1][2]
It is thought that an inflammatory condition leads to swelling of the facial nerve. The nerve travels through the skull in a narrow bone canal beneath the ear. Nerve swelling and compression in the narrow bone canal are thought to lead to nerve inhibition, damage or death. No readily identifiable cause for Bell's palsy has been found.
Corticosteroids have been found to improve outcomes while anti-viral drugs have not.^[3] Early treatment is necessary for steroids to be effective. Most people recover spontaneously and achieve near-normal to normal functions. Many show signs of improvement as early as 10 days after the onset, even without treatment.
Often the eye in the affected side cannot be closed. The eye must be protected from drying up, or the cornea may be permanently damaged resulting in impaired vision. In some cases denture wearers experience some discomfort."

Ok, swell. This lasted me almost 3 months before the nerves came back. I still have a small droop to my right eyelid from the illness. Turns out I had a small infection the caused the nerve to be pinched in my jaw. But I pretty much fully recovered.

Part Two.
Have you ever started to nod off to sleep and you hear a LOUD bang, kind of like an explosion or a gun go off? You awake and there is nothing wrong, or happening? I had this happen to me for 10 long years. It always just scared the hell out of me. After awhile I just accepted it as part of going to sleep. Over the years it would get louder and louder until it got to the point that my ears were ringing after I was jolted awake.

It took me 10 years to get it diagnosed. What was it? Maybe you'll laugh your butt off like I did when I found out what is was, and what it is called. Now if you have EVER had this happen to you, I want to hear from you because to this day, I have NEVER spoken to someone else that went through this.

Exploding Head Syndrome.

Yup, that's what it's called. Exploding Head Syndrome. No, the head doesn't literally explode, but it sure sounds like it when you're sleeping. Straight from Wikipedia once again:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Exploding_head_syndrome

Exploding head syndrome is a form of hypnagogic auditory hallucination in which the sufferer sometimes experiences a sudden loud noise coming from within their own head. The noise is brief and is usually likened to an explosion, roar, gunshot, door slamming, loud voices or screams, a ringing noise, or the sound of electrical arcing (buzzing).
This noise usually happens at the onset of sleep or within an hour or two of falling asleep, but is not necessarily the result of a dream.^[1] Although the sound is perceived as extremely loud, it is usually not accompanied by pain. Attacks appear to change in number over time, with several attacks happening in a space of days or weeks, followed by months of remission. Sufferers often feel a sense of fear and anxiety after an attack, accompanied by elevated heart rate. Attacks may also be accompanied by perceived flashes of light (when perceived on their own, known as a "visual sleep start") or difficulty in breathing. The condition is also known as "auditory sleep starts". The associated symptoms are varied, but the benign nature of the condition is emphasized and neither extensive investigation nor treatment are indicated.^[1] Sufferers may experience an inability to vocalize any sound, or mild forms of sleep paralysis during an attack.

Luckily it has been several years since I have encountered this. I would never in a million years be able to explain how this sounds when it happens. ONLY if it has happened to you, would anyone understand.

Anyways, back to the norm tomorrow, I'll tell you how a ketchup packet can be used as an explosive device.

What a lazy blogger!

Sorry everyone, I was busy recovering from being sick, there was no update, or entertaining story today. I will say however I saw a deer taking a dump the other night. Never saw that before. Looked just like my dogs technique when he goes to the bathroom. I couldn't look away.

Wow. That was really disturbing too.  I'll be back Sunday!

Welcome to school, I'll be your bully.

So, another move. We had only lived in Marcellus for 10 months or so, and now we were moving again. You see, my father worked for Meijer, and he kept getting promoted. He always too the new job, so we moved alot. In 8 years we had lived in Elkhart Indiana, Lansing, Jenison, Hudsonville, Marcellus and now Saint Joseph Michigan. It was hard on me as I really made friends quick, and it seemed like every time I got into a comfort zone, we would move again. The move from Marcellus to Saint Joseph came as a total shock. My Mom dropped the bomb during dinner one night when I mentioned how much I hated the long driveway we had. "

"Well, you won't have to worry about it for long, because we are moving in 2 weeks."

Thanks alot. Once again, I get to say goodbye to people I had just met and became pals with. My father had been promoted to Store Director at Meijer in Benton Harbor, Michigan, and found a great deal on a house in Saint Joe. Within the next month or so, we were moved in. Early spring on 1980, I started school at E.P. Clarke Elementary. It was the obvious choice, as we moved into the subdivision right across the road from the school. I get to meet new people, new teachers and get used to a whole other way of life.

It started out less than stellar.

My 6th Grade teacher was Mr. Lignell. He was a nice guy. I met him and the principal the day before I started. The next day, I headed off for school. When I got there, i went into my new class, and found my seat. All eyes on me. Here comes the new guy! I felt really shy. I actually never had that problem before, but the vibe I got was horrible. Then I was introduced to what would become my bully for the next week or so.

Don Ziegert.

Stated off innocently enough, with some comments. Then the intimidation. Every time I would decorate my desk, I would come in the next day, and he would be sitting there with his friends admiring the destruction of my art work I had drawn on my desk. I had some stickers I put on there once, and he scraped them off, all of the time sitting on the bench next to where my desk was so he could see my reaction.

Gym class, I was the target for EVERY dodgeball that was in the school. It was a good old fashion rubber ball beat down. I had the nerve to finally say something to him, and it was on. He wanted to meet me after school to fight. Great. This was not at all like any other school I had ever been in.

I was scared. I had no clue why I had to be the target of someones hatred for absolutely no reason at all except for being the new kid. I made sure I bailed out as soon as I could from school, and ran home. After a few days, he was waiting for me. Luckily my Mom was at the school that day. She was to become the woman in charge of Girl Scouts, and she was meeting with some people from the school. she ended up walking me home. I know, I wussed out.

Then one day the bullying ended. I really don't remember how or why, but it just stopped. Eventually I adjusted to my new school, and met people that and made friends. Most have come and gone, but I'll never forget that first week of living hell.

Don, if you read this, I will meet you anytime, anywhere and anyplace and kick your ass, you bastard!

Actually, Don and I became friends not long after middle school. We never had a problem after 6th grade. The school year eventually came to a close, and I was getting ready for Middle School. I had a great summer, and became friends with Brad Franzen. The crap we would get ourselves into.....oh man.

Did I survive 7th grade? I dunno.....probably. Check back tomorrow and find out.

When all else fail, order pizza.

I'm not feeling 100% yet, as I recover from the crud I always get this time of year. But I'm going to share with you the FUNNIEST story of how to order a pizza the correct way. Anyone can do it, just read and you'll see how even the dumbest of people can fill their tummy with delicious artery clogging goodness! Story by David Neilsen.

Hello. Welcome to The Complete and Utter Idiot's Guide to Ordering Pizza. Who's hungry for some 'za? Let's do it!

The first thing we need to do is select a pizza delivery service. You probably have half a dozen flyers sitting in your junk drawer in your kitchen so we'll...what? You don't have any fliers? You don't have a junk drawer?

 You don't have a kitchen?

Where are you currently standing at the moment? A room. That's very helpful, let's try to narrow it down. Are you in your house? Good. Are you in your kitchen? Kitchen? The food room. Yes, counters, sink, that sounds...toilet? No, that's wrong. That's your bathroom. Why on earth do you think that would be a food room? Don't answer, just leave that room alone.

You need to find your kitchen. It will have some of the things that were in your bathroom, but it won't have a toilet. There will also be such things like a stove, refrigerator, microwave, maybe a dishwasher, blender, mixer.. what is that look? That's a lost look, isn't it? You're lost. In your house. It's okay, don't cry, we'll find your kitchen.

Let me ask you this, when you are hungry, where do you go?

That's the bathroom, you are really scaring me right now.

You know what, forget it. The entire point of finding your kitchen is to look through your junk drawer for pizza delivery fliers, and it occurs to me that every drawer you own is probably a junk drawer, so we should cut our losses and move on.

What we need is a phone book. No, not a book that looks like a phone, rather, a large, usually yellow book that has lots and lots of phone numbers in it. There's a very good chance that it's near your phone. So let's try that.

Your phone. You make phone calls on it. Knowing you, it probably looks like Mickey Mouse or perhaps a plastic football.

Or the Starship Enterprise. Of course. I should have known.

I'm glad you've found the phone, we're going to need that, so hold onto it. Now what about a phone book? No, that's a dictionary. Yes, it's a big book but it doesn't have any numbers in it, does it? Numbers. We're looking for numbers.

No, that's a book on Quantum Physics. What the Hell are you doing with that?

Why are you still carrying around the Starship Enterprise? Oh right, I told you to hold onto it. It was a figure of speech. What I meant was set it down, but remember where you put it.

I don't know, mark the spot with something.

Anyway... back to the hunt for the phone book.

You know, I'm gonna play a hunch here. Open your front door. Front door. The door in the front. It leads to outside. There ya go. Look down. See that pile of large, yellowish books sitting there? Those are phone books. Pick one up and bring it inside.

Now, open the.. why is the front door wide open? Were you born in a barn? Close the door! Now, find a pizza delivery service in the phone book.

You've got that lost look on your face again.

Open the book and flip to the P's. Why are you giggling? Open the book. Go on. Find the P's. Stop giggling. No, those are the M's. Close, but definitely wrong. Keep going. N. O. P. Stop! Stop right there!

Okay, now find Pizza. A listing, not an actual pizza. You're not going to find actual pizza stuffed between the pages of the phone book. Stop right there! You found it! Pizza! What's the phone number? Don't lose it! Find the phone! Find the phone! Where'd you leave it? Didn't you mark the spot, I told you to mark the spot, what'd you mark the spot with?

You marked the spot with the phone. Of course you did.

Look around you, do you see it anywhere? You do? Really? Great! Get the damn phone!
Okay, now you have the phone and you have a phone number. You are so amazingly close to ordering pizza it's sickening. Dial the number in the phone.

I have no idea, maybe the numbers are in the saucer section? I mean who the Hell has a Starship Enterprise phone these days?

Besides you, I mean.

Okay, let's not panic. It's a phone, there has to be a way to dial it. Look all over the ship. Look for numbers. Besides NCC-1701. There! What are those! Numbers! Those are buttons! Dial them! Dial them now! Before you lose them!

What are you doing? You need to dial them in a certain order! Don't just pound on them! Stop crying.
I'm sorry. You're right, you were doing what I asked. My fault. I'll try to be more specific from now on.

Yes, and more understanding as well.

Remember the phone number we found in the phone book? Dial that number on the spaceship right now. Is it ringing? Good job.

Okay, when they answer they're gonna... what? Yes, they can put you on hold. Now, when they get back to you, they're gonna ask what you want. You can get all kinds of things on pizza; pepperoni, sausage, bell peppers, onions, tomatoes, garlic, anchovies... you have no idea what I'm talking about, do you? Tell you what, when they ask what you want, order cheese.

Yes, one cheese pizza. Medium. That's it. Nothing else. God forbid this conversation continues any longer than necessary. Give them your address. Oh God, please tell me you know your address.

You do? Weird. Okay, hang up! Hang up now!

Congratulations! You've ordered pizza! Dingbat.

Numbing the mind at after hours and horrible friends who should NOT go out for dinner together.

If you're like me, you find yourself flicking through the channels at night trying to find something to watch. There is always a ton of things on, but what to choose from? On one hand you have a variety of infomercials that want to sell you the next awesome cutting machine that shreds, dices and cultivates your cucumber, so to speak. But wait, there's more! If you order now, we'll send you for only a SMALL handling charge, the Weasler! If you have to ask what the Weasler is, you don't ever need it.

QVC? Only if you HAVE to have that "diamonique" dog collar for 83 easy payments of $29.99 plus shipping. I once ordered something from QVC. I think it was a comic book set. Right on the cover, it was printed AS SEEN ON TV. That made it valuable.

Comedy Central. Usually a good source of entertainment. I always have this channel as a fallback to anything else on. Tosh, Futurama and stand-up always makes me smile. I can do without 12 straight hours of "Larry The Cable Guy In......ANYTHING" I just don't want to see it 7 times in a row.

The Military Channel. No matter how many times I watch it, I know how WW2 ended. I know the Nazis are going to lose the war. I mean, we all know this as a proven fact in history. they are The Washington Generals of armies. The narrator always try to hook you, but I guarantee they lose everytime.

Cartoon Network/Adult Swim. This is my go to channel. Pretty much after 1:30am, this is where it stays unless that stupid Family Guy episode where he wrecks the cable dish while teaching Meg to drive is on. That episode should be banned due to OVERPLAY! American Dad? Hell yeah.

MTV? Don't start with me. My brain will fly out of my head and find a way to kill you.

USA Network. I used to LOVE this station, but after Night Flight was cancelled, it was all downhill. It hasn't been a good network to me since 1988.

FX. LOVED it for Rescue Me. It's not a bad source for occasional joy, but not enough.

Network TV. Well, after a certain time, it's mostly just mind numbing dribble. I avoid it like I avoid good health.

Everything else? Well, Spike will show you a bunch of killer action films, but usually the same one over and over. Sometimes that's ok, other times just shoot me. Although they usually run the awesome Carl's Jr commercials where hot scantily clad supermodels eat burgers that result in a mustard flow of incredible proportions running down there chins. And just when you think the commercial is over, and other one rubs her back while eating Carl's Jr new Cheese Tator Tot that cost only $1.99 after 4pm! Genius.

Commercials? usually the same ones over and over. Chat lines where women like younger men, but LOVE older guys. They tell me that mostly they chat, but sometimes it gets even hotter. What, do you yell at me? Last time I checked there were litterly a BILLION web sites that offer the same thing for only pennies a day billed discreetly to your credit card. Or even better, and I guarantee that THOSE women do more than talk. Yes, I can guarentee it.

What about those commercials that get played over and over and over and over....... there is one that is burned into my skull with the heat of a million satellites burning into earth's atmosphere.

Livelinks. I get so pissed at this commercial. It stars 2 guys who have an obviously terrible bond. When the waitress walks over to take their order, Dimwit #1 asks to hear the specials again. Asshole Friend #2 basically tears him a new one, and humiliates him in front of the COMPLETELY not hot waitress. He may as well just bent him over and shoved a salad fork in his rectum. At least that would have been kinder than the abuse that his "buddy" delivers with in front of the stunned customers that wonder why the waitress isn't already pregnant with one of the grill cooks bastard children . The worse part? Dimwit #1 acts like this is the normal way to be treated! I would have caved in the skull of Asshole Friend #2 with a dinner plate. Over and over until mush oozed from his back stabbing ears. Don't believe how bad this commercial really is? I defy you NOT to want to smash your TV after watching it.

Enjoy!

Those eight wonderful words.

"So, I'm thinking of having my testicles laminated."

Those were the first words spoken to me after I left the house this morning. I was at Meijer getting gas, when my friend Pat walked up behind me and surprised me. It was good to see him, since it had been awhile and we only live a few miles apart. We talked while I pumped gas, and continued our conversation inside. He had a couple of thing he was buying on his way to work. I paid for my gas and had the cashier ring up his stuff with mine. Even though he knew it wasn't necessary, he thanked me. We never worry about the little things like that. It's just what friends do.

Pat is a former Marine, and he served our country proudly for several years. I have known him well over half of my life, and would take a bullet for him and his family anytime.

We said our goodbyes, and cracked a few last jokes before shaking his hand.

It's important to remember how special our friends are on this Patriots Day. Some people lost friends on this day 11 years ago, and you never know when something might take someone important to you away. Make sure you tell that someone special how you feel everytime you see them.

I really hope his testicle lamination goes well. I can't wait to see them.

Deep Purple and my first car.

The 1965 Chevy Biscayne 4 door. It was my first car. And more than that, it was my freedom to a whole new world of causing serious trouble. That was probably why my Dad found this car for me. I had saved up all of my extra cash from working at Meijer to buy this steel beast. It was part of an estate sale, and had been sitting in a garage for 10 years. $700 dollars, and it was mine. This was 1984. The chariot only had 36,000 original miles on a VERY underpowered 230 ci V6. But it was mine. Now I could drive to school, work  and to my friends house without having to answer to anyone.

Now this thing was huge. I mean, you could put 6 people in this car, and still have room to move. It took me and my friends everywhere. I remember piling in this car with my friends and going to the Krokus/Sammy Hagar concert in Kalamazoo. I'll never forget Joe Ehrenberg driving down the road on the way home with a Krokus headband on

The fenders had a unique function as not only protection, but as a fridge. let me explain. When you opened the front doors, it would expose the inside of the enclosed fender. You could easily put a 6 pack in each fender WITH ICE! As the ice melted, it ran out the bottom. GENIUS! If you wanted a mobile party, this was the beast to get you there.

Winter came, and if you're from the Saint Joseph area, you know how nasty it can get. This thing would just haul ass down Glenlord Road with snow drifting over the hood, and it never once failed me. The only time I got stuck was in my driveway because I was too damn lazy to shovel it.

Never did I love a car as much as I loved this one. It was a DEEP purple, and we always cracked jokes about that. Deep Purple's perfect Strangers cassette was always cranked in the tape player.The paint was pretty oxidized and if you rubbed your finger on the car, it would turn it purple. No amount of buffing would stop it, I was afraid it would be bare metal before I was through.

There was a girl that worked at Meijer that had the same exact car as I did, except it was brown, and had a 3 speed manual transmission. three on the tree! If you don't know what that means, I'll explain it. Nowadays when you say manual transmission, you think of a stickshift by your right hand. Not this. The three on the tree was a shifter on the steering column. If you have never seen one before, it looks like any normal shifter, but I DEFY you to try it without grinding or missing gears.

I also racked up 16 points on my license in this car. Speeding tickets, parking tickets, stupid tickets abound. i was on a date once, and was pulled over speeding. She was less than impressed. Yes, this car got me into a LOT of trouble, but it was a workhorse. Then the beginning of the end to my awesome beast.

One very icy and snowy night, I was finishing my shift at Meijer. My friend Kurt VonKoening and I left at the same time. usually we grab a burger across the street, and then head for home. He got in his car and said that he would meet me at Burger King. He then did a slick donut on the snowy parking lot, and turned towards the main road. I figured I could do a better one.

Now I had just purchased a case of Faygo soda. Glass bottles in a flat. Multiple flavors. It was next to me in the front seat. i started to accelerate, and went into the spin. The donut was awesome. I looked back and there was a motorcycle pole that I had run over. I said out loud to myself how funny that was.

Then I hit the cement light pole. I hit that sucker at about 30mph. Head on. My chin hit the hard steering wheel, and chipped the bone, and the Faygo slid off and shattered all over the floor of the car. It was an ocean of fruity flavors, and the smell was incredible. The car stalled. I got out to survey the damage, and it was not good. The grill was smashed in, and the fan was now in the radiator. the drivers side headlight was knocked out of the housing, and was just hanging by the connectors.

I was in deep trouble. Not only was my dad my dad, he was my boss at Meijer. After about 10 minutes Kurt came back to see what was keeping me. he saw the car, and asked what happened, even though I'm sure he knew what my stupidity had caused. surprisingly, it started right back up, and I was able to back it off of the light pole, and into a parking spot. Kurt took me home, and I had to face my Dad when I got there. Nothing like lying to you father at 11:30pm about how a patch of ice caused me to lose control as I was leaving work and crashed into Meijer store property. What was worse is that it had to sit there overnight for all the morning shift employees to see. Everyone new it was my car, and my Dad was LESS than pleased.

The next afternoon, Joe brought his fathers wrecker from his gas station, and we hauled it back there. Now if anyone reading this blog remembers Joe's father, Bill Ehrenberg, he was a helluva nice guy. But he had no tolerance for stupidity, and he let me have it on several occasions. But he was the one that always fixed my cars for years. He was able to replace the radiator, and fix the fan. We ended up just taking some bailing wire, and mounting the headlight to the bumper. The front was still caved in, but it ran like a top. the car was a beast, and it was proving it longevity.

I bought another car soon after, and parked the Biscayne in the garage to use as a winter vehicle. It sat for 3 months. I ended up selling the newer car, and pulled this baby out of the garage to once again be my daily driver. After a few months however, it started running worse and worse. It eventually became a back-up only car, and the end was coming soon.

I sold that car one fall afternoon for $200. It was destined to be in a demolition derby. A very unfitting end to what had been not only my first car, but a part of me.

The Biscayne was my first ride. It was in this car I had my first date, my first kiss, my first ticket, my first taste of freedom, and now it was gone. I loved that car. So much so, that years later I bought another one. Same year, same color same everything. I ended up not being able to keep it, but this one went to a good home. Is it still around? I don't know. But my first car will always be in my heart.

A very important question.

I really love writing this blog everyday, and sharing my stories with all of you. I have SO much more to tell, and I hope you stick around for all I have to say. But I have a question. It's not easy to ask because I don't know how everyone will feel about it. But Here goes....

I have an opportunity to do some good in this world. If you know me, you know that I try to help others any way I can. I never ask for anything in return for what I do, except that you pay it forward any way you can. I have a chance to make some money with this blog. Not for personal gain, but to help others by using that money to help others get a computer that they otherwise could never afford. My friend Bryan and I have been working so hard to help others out, but the funds just aren't there anymore. We would take a nice computer we would get donated, sell it and use that money to get three others that were broken, fix them and give them away.

Donation computers are way down, but people that have a need for them are way up. I can place ads on my blog page, and every click of them by a reader would earn money that we can put towards helping others.

I NEVER wanted my blog to be about money, and it NEVER will. But I need to be able to help those that need it. I figured that if my blog can help someone, I would like to able to do so.

Please let me know what you think. You can leave a note on my Facebook page, or even here in the comment section and let me know what you think. And as always, if you DO have a computer, laptop OR desktop you would like to see go to a good home, please let me know.

Thank you for your understanding. I want to be able to expand my services to help autistic children get iPads that I know will help them. I have so many friends that have autistic children, and I hate not being to help out when I know I can do some good for them as well.

What do you think? This is VERY important that we are on the same page. I won't do it if it will offend you.

Thank you. :)

Ass-hats and pizza slices.

Attitude is a powerful thing. Knowing how to use it, that's something else. I have no tolerance for people who think the world revolve around them, and when I encounter them it's pretty damn hard to bite my tongue. Therefore, when I get to the point where I decide to use my attitude to shut them down, I know how to use it.

Enter today's asshole.

Pizza sounded good, so I went into town to get some cheesy goodness. I get great service wherever I go simply because I refuse to go where the employees are jerks. I walk in and spy my target. Mmmm, pepperoni! I tell the clerk what I want , and he gets a box for the slices that soon would be part of my feast. We talk about stuff, and joke around while gets the food. And then asshole walks in.

No shirt, pants halfway down his legs and a really stupid hat. I blow him off and keep talking the the clerk. Under his breath, I hear the asshole say, 'Come the fuck on...."

I stop talking, and turn to him.

In a calm quite voice I say, "Shut the fuck up, ass-hat." He looks at me, and I just stare him down. He tries to give me a look, but he turns and looks back down at the counter. I get my food, the clerk smiles and I walk out. I made it a point to wait for him to come out, and I stare him down.

He leaves.

I can't stand people like that. There are much bigger things to worry about. If you want to be a jerk, don't pull that crap on me. I'll give you attitude that I can and will back up. I'm a pacifist, but I will in NO way tolerate someone that enjoys nothing more than to make people feel miserable.

Short blog today, sorry about that. There is something that I wanted to write about, and I need your opinion. I have some important topics I want to cover on Sunday, so please join me back here tomorrow. Your feedback is VERY important to me.

Life, that we both could share.....

I fell in love.

I fell in love with someone that would change me forever, and to this day I will never forget. She was not only my first true love, but she was someone that would shape me to be the person that I am today.

Her name is Cindy Visin. She lived in Benton Harbor, and worked with me at Meijer. I was introduced to her by a friend, and I asked her out. She smiled at me and said yes.I picked her up the next night, and spent most of it driving around talking. She was wonderful. We clicked right away, and had a great time together. The date ended with me bringing her home, and a wonderful kiss.

It was incredible. I was completely smitten with her. We started going out, and every date just made me fall for her even more. The always smiled. It was the cutest smile. Everyime she laughed, it melted my heart. We worked so well together, and no matter where we were, or what we did, it was perfect.

We would drive to the beach and lay in the sand. We would would go to the park at night, and listen to music in the car. We would go down to the marina where my parents had a sailboat, and make out under the stars. We would get passionate, but we never slept together. We were both still virgins.

Now, not to say we didn't TRY. It was comical at times, but we never had sex. We would have romantic times together. We would be completely undressed, and just lay next to each other. There was a warmth in her that could fuel a thousand suns. And she made sure that I felt like special. I had fallen in love with her, and I told her.

She told me she loved me too.

That was it. I was in love. And she loved me back. It was such a feeling. I loved her, and she loved me. Nothing could change that. I had never felt like this before. It was new, and exciting. She would look at me, and I would look at her, and it was perfect. I wanted it to stay this way forever.

But love has a sick and twisted way of making you stupid. It tends to make you forget that there is two people in the relationship, and what you want, isn't always what is best for the both of you. We spent so much time together, and I loved every moment of it. But too much of a good thing can backfire. I was at my friends house one night, and I suddenly missed her. I wanted her to come over and hang out with me. I called her, and even though I could tell she wasn't really up to it, she agreed to have me come pick her up. I drove to her house and we motored back to my friends.

That's when it happened. At least I'm pretty sure that's when it did.

When we got back, she just sat there while I hung out with my friends. She was obviously bored, and never really wanted to be there, but she did it because I wanted her to be there. And I neglected to think about her feelings. She sat there.

After about an hour, we got in the car and I drove her home. Yeah, just drove her right home. She really didn't say much when she got out of the car. I had no clue what an ass I had been. It never even crossed my mind.

2 days later, i called her and I was upset about how she acted when I dropped her off. We started to argue, and we had never even fought to this point. This lasted about 15 minutes. Then I said the words I never thought I would say.

"We need to break up."

I could tell that she was a little stunned, but I think she knew it was coming. I blamed her, and I let her know I that I did. I ended up hanging up the phone on her, and walking away.

That was it. I had a stupid sense of pride that I was right, and she was wrong. For 2 days, I was right and she was wrong.

Then it hit me. I was a complete ass. It wasn't ever supposed to be about what I wanted, it was supposed to be about what WE wanted. It was light a cinder block being slammed into my skull. I understood how love was supposed to work. I was ashamed of myself, and I slipped into a funk that would nearly destroy me. I could not believe what i had done. I had the perfect love, and I crushed it like a ant.

A couple of months later, I was able to bring myself to call her. She answered the phone, and I apologized right away. She accepted, and we talked for quite a while. I told her that I still loved her, and I understood what love meant, and i wanted to be with her again. She told me she still loved me, but she couldn't be with me anymore. She had moved on. But she shared something with me that I will never forget. She told me why she loved me.

She loved me for being myself. It was important to her that I didn't act like I was someone I wasn't. She also told me how much she respected me for the way I treated her while we were going out. That I never once pressure her for sex, and never made her feel unwanted. The way I held her hand no matter where we were, and always had a smile and a kiss for her at the end of the day. If she was down, I always had kind words for her, and she loved me for the love I gave her.

We talked a little while longer, and we said our goodbyes. I never spoke or saw her ever again.

She got away. And I let it happen. I swore that I would NEVER act like that again. I would never take an emotion like love, and make it all about me. I took the lessons I learned from Cindy, and became a better man. She made me what I am today, and I will never forget her.

Wherever you are, Cindy Visin, I will always remember you. You were my first real love, and you not only made me a better man, and but an even better human being.

Whenever I hear this song, I think about her. It seems like it was always on the radio when we were together. I hope you enjoy it.