Wednesday, June 30, 2010

(Husband) If you died........

Daisy and I like to play a little game called, “If you died” with a lightly seasoned, “If I died”. I am sharing this because I find a great deal of pleasure in improving other’s relationships with one another. Feel free to play this game with those closest to you. Let me give you an example.

Goose: If you died I would drink myself to death out of great sorrow.

Daisy: That’s very sweet but who would take care of the kids?

Goose: I don’t know. Your parents? An orphanage? I would be in too much pain to take care of them.

Daisy: You would have to pull yourself together.

Goose: How about if I never talk to the kids about you? How about if I marry someone within a month of your death? How’s that for pulling myself together? Hey listen, if I died you wouldn’t get anything because you are not in my will.

Daisy: Oh boy. And loose out on 100 bucks. Whatever should I do?

Goose: If you died you would never be able to marry again.

Daisy: Why not?

Goose: Because you have baggage.

Daisy: What are you talking about?

Goose: The kids.

Daisy: They are not baggage! If you are going to die I hope it is soon because I am more than capable of going out and wrangling up myself a man.

Goose: Not as good as me though.

Daisy: (Sigh) You’re right.

Goose: Really?

Daisy: Really.

Goose: I love you

Daisy: I love you too.

Do you see how it all works? It brings people closer together. Liven up your next family gathering with a little “If you died” and see how it goes.

Monday, June 28, 2010

(Father) Backyard Fun

When we moved into our duplex 2 years ago Daisy and I inherited a small strawberry patch. This year is a bumper crop so I have been out picking with the boys who enjoy a good snack along the way. That is until Fire had a few bowel explosions we then traced back to berry picking days. Now they watch and ask if certain berries are ready. Needless to say the strawberries and I have become very close. I talk to each one like they were my own child. I have them all named and encourage their threesomes in every way possible. Threesomes are what I look forward to and live by. Physical, spiritual, and emotional well being. I think this is a heartwarming story you all will enjoy.

I approach the patch and before I can say howdy howdy howdy one of them yells, “Goose is here!” A loud cheer rises up from the berries. The leaves fold away to expose all of their cheery faces. A couple of the brownnosers (Tom and Steve) are already raising their stubby little hands saying, “Pick me Goose! Pick me!”

“Slow down there fellas. You still have a little white on your backside.”

“Ah Man” they groan.

“Don’t worry boys. You know what I always say……..”

Everybody then chanted in unison, “Tomorrow is a whole new day.”

“That’s right!” I said giving a swing of my arm.

As I began picking we all sang a strawberry song that goes something this:

I pick them plump and I pick them fresh
I get them red ‘cause they are the best
When it comes to………….Holy Sh*t!! Fire! Put Nancy down! I said put her down, NOW. #SQUISH# Oh for all that is holy!

Fire had decided he did not like Nancy’s singing voice, the song itself was boring, or she looked good enough to eat. I must have caught him by surprise and so he reacted instinctively by……..well……y’know.

I tried to rouse the strawberries into another song but they were hesitant. Then I said those magic words, “C’mon guys. Tomorrow is a whole new day.” And before you know it we were in full swing. Nancy didn’t really have many friends anyway. Although it was still disturbing to see her splattered on Fire’s shirt. Suddenly I heard crying and asked everyone to stop. I bent down to see little Timmy crying. “Timmy, what’s wrong?”

“Nothin’ Goose”

“Timmy, you have to tell me” Timmy turned and I could see a hole in the side of his head. Everyone gasped, including me. “Timmy, who did this to you?”

“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”

“You won’t Timmy. I swear.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die. Stick a thousand needles in my eye.” I winked at little Timmy and he smiled. Timmy looked down and became serious again.

“The ants”

“I knew it” as I turned my head to look at the ant pile by the shrub. “I should never have trusted them.”

“You said it wouldn’t get anyone in trouble.” I turned back to look at Timmy. My voice became demonized.

“I lied”

I ran into the house and boiled water in the tea kettle. When the whistle blew I was out the door with kettle hand. I heard a distant, “Hey, here comes Goose to give us some chocolate.”

“That’s not a silver wrapper Johnny. RUN!!” I poured the hot water on the pile just to give a warning shot across the bow (except my warning shot killed half the ants. Ooops).

“Who hurt Timmy?!? Who did it?” Nobody said a word. “Charlie, please tell me the truth.”

“It was the slugs.”

“Why would Timmy lie?”

“You haven’t seen him chumming up to them? They wanted him to become part of the gang but he said no. They roughed him up for betraying them. Still feels loyalty toward them though.”

“That’s not true. I’ve talked to the slugs and they said they would never do that to the strawberries.”

“Are you stupid Goose? Everyone in this backyard is out for themselves. Everyone.”

“You aren’t being very nice”

“Oh yeah, were tired of singing that ant song too”

“Careful Charlie.” I raised the kettle.

“Go ahead Goose. You don’t have the balls.” One of the other ants (Amos) screamed, “Charlie, the Vasectomy.”

“AAAAAUUUUUGGGGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I poured the boiling water out and began laughing as I heard the screams. “Nobody makes fun of Goose.” “Nobody!” After the kettle was empty, the screams had turned to groans, and my heart rate returned to normal, I fell to my knees and asked God for forgiveness. But something had already snapped inside of my brain.

“What happened here?” I turned and saw Owen the slug and his band of brothers. “Goose, are…….ok?” He turned to look at his tribe to confirm he wasn’t the only one to see my ashen, and sweaty, face.”

“I gotta surprise for you.” I said as I stumbled into the house.

“It looks like Goose has sugar for us.”

Rose the slug said, “That’s not sugar Owen! Run!”

Owen said, “We can’t run you idiot.”




“To who?”

By that time I had reached them. “Would you like salt with that?” At the end of 15 seconds the mountain of salt was all that was left.

“Daddy?..............Daddy?” I looked up to see Beast standing over me. “Fire’s full.” I look over to see fire put the last strawberry into his mouth. He had eaten them all. Even the white ones. Then I had a moment of clarity. I pulled both my boys to my breast.

“Let me let you in on a little secret guys.”

“What’s that dad?”

“You are more important than anything in my life”

“Even the strawberries?”

“Well, Fire made sure of that didn’t he? Now who wants chocolate milk?” Everyone shrieked for joy, including me. As they ran into the house I couldn’t help but remember the tragedy that had just happened minutes ago. I stretched and soaked in the sunshine for a second or two. I breathed in a breath of fresh air and chuckled, “With friends like me who needs enemies?” I turned back and gave all of them the middle finger before heading into the house where everyone was happy to see me.

The End

(Man/Husband) Skin Art

When I was 19 years old I wanted a tattoo. I had it all planned out in my head as to what I wanted. The only thing I didn't do was actually go out and get it. And thank God. There were things on that potential tattoo I would not want people to see. Not because of anything offensive but because I stood behind certain values that are not as important to me now. I wouldn't want my tattoo to misrepresent me.

Well, Daisy became pregnant and I started to feel old. She knew I had wanted a tattoo for a while and finally conceded on one condition. That I never got another one. This was my big shot. A tattoo for the ages. I spent time talking to people about tattoo artists around town. I visited some of the parlors. I talked to a couple of artists to see if they were complete a**holes. I asked a lot about different kinds of inks and spacing. Then I found him. He seemed to appreciate the fact I had an idea as to what I wanted. He said people will come in wanting a tattoo and stand there. He will ask what they want and they would reply, "I don't know. What do you think?" I could see if the client didn't want to hold any responsibility he could always blame the artist.

"Hey Frank! Why do you have a tattoo of Smurfette on your calf?"

"The tattoo artist said it would be cool ok?"

"Is that pac-man on your wrist?”

“Shut up.”

If you put “Stupid Tattoos” into Google and click on images you will find many pictures that will both fascinate and disturb. And this was Daisy’s point. Her argument was she has not come along too many tattoos that are worth a damn. She also said all the other things you often hear such as…’s permanent, what if the picture is a fad, and it will sag along with your skin. I felt my research and thought process had eliminated many of the pitfalls that would land my picture on the stupid tattoo images in Google. Besides, I only have one body and I wanted the experience.

I wanted a few things:

1) Black ink only.
2) I wanted to be able to see it.
3) I wanted it medium sized.
4) In a conservative spot (I didn’t want to regret its placement in case it did, in fact, look stupid after the honeymoon period wore off).

Here is the tattoo half way finished (upon Kelly’s request). If I had it my way I would continue the portrait all the way down to my knee. I have an idea as to what else I want but Daisy won’t budge. Would all of you support me with a yes vote? If you think no then, in all seriousness, say what you think.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Husband/Father (You will feel a pinch...) IV

Doctor came back in and asked a few questions. I hate it when doctors say, “You will feel a slight pinch.” And y’know what? I might have been able to handle a pinch. But he injects my testicles with a numbing agent and then begins to grab and twist my testicles as if he were trying to get information out of me. “I cheated on an exam in High School!!” I scream. “I said I wanted to be like my dad when I grew up but it…..wasn’t…….true!!!!” The doctor turns to Kai, why do these patients always make confessions to me? Dammit Kai I’m a doctor not a priest.” Kai just shrugged. Kai asked me if I was still melting into the mattress.

“Not anymore Kai.”

The doctor did the same thing on the other side and again, my back arched and my toes curled. “How ya doing Goose?” Doc asked.

“Great.” I said. What does he expect me to say?

Well, after tugging, pulling, snipping, and cauterizing, I was finally done. Gauze and a jockstrap later I was off the table and ready for sex. Three days later and that thought still makes me cringe. Took a couple of Vicadin, went to a friend’s house to pick something up and told her the exact same story twice in a matter of 5 minutes. I fell asleep on the couch for 2 hours and then Daisy and I headed home. There are certainly parts of the story I would have liked to have expanded on more but I think that is all for now. Gotta go put on an ice pack and cover myself with a mixing bowl in case one of the boys decided to jump off the couch and onto my scrotum.

Husband/Father (You will feel a pinch...) III

I leave the bathroom and see Kai in the hallway motioning for me to follow. I enter the door; walk down another hallway, and into what felt like the Antarctic. “Oh great” I thought “I’m going to shrink”.

I know it shouldn’t matter. Just like getting a pimple in High School. It’s not like anybody cares. But because shame is so painful, it matters. Businesses make millions of dollars off how men feel about the size of their penis. It reminds me of a joke.

A man and woman are about to have sex for the first time. The man drops his pants to reveal a small penis. The woman begins laughing and asks, “Who do you plan on pleasing with that?”

The man states confidently, “Me”

Anyway, Kai attaches a metal plate to my hip to ground me for the cauterization.

“Nice Tattoo” she said.

“Thanks” I replied.

And now we resume our story. In the booklet it said my genitals would be washed. I was a little worried I might obtain an erection which would embarrass us both. Well, this was anything but a nice gentle cleansing. In fact, I think I heard my man parts screaming for mercy. At this point I have to make a confession. I never gave my man parts a hint as to what we were going to the doctor for. They looked at me like I had just betrayed them. “You don’t think this hurts me too?” I said.

“Who are you talking to?” Kai said.

“Wally” I said. He’s scared.

Seriously though, I asked Kai (who was a very sweet Hawaiian woman who has four kids) how most men behave when they are at this point. She said like me, scared and quiet. I said I wasn’t scared but winked. I said I did my best to shave well and she as long as I didn’t use an electric razor I was probably fine. She continued by saying they had a guy yesterday who had used an electric razor and it looked as if a cat had used his testicles as a scratching post. I asked why he didn’t stop and she said he just wanted to, “muscle through it”. I told her the Valium was starting to take effect and how I was melting into the mattress. Then the doctor walked in. Do you remember when a teacher walked into a classroom and everything stopped no matter if the teacher was nice or evil? Or when a parent walked into a room with you and your friends? Or when the boss walks over to the water cooler? The dynamic changes.

He walked over to the radio and put it on a jazz station, asked a couple of questions, and then left. Kai continued as if nothing happened. She said during one vasectomy a song called, “Let’s get it on” played and she had to stifle a laugh. Then she said, “Could you spread your legs please?” She took a rolled up a towel and snuggled it into my anus so my genitals were set on it like on the top of a post.

Husband/Father (You will feel a pinch...) II


Daisy walked in and said it looked great without even looking at my shaving job. I was hoping for a pat on the head, a thumbs up, a smile, and maybe a, “For your first time I’d say you did pretty well.” Just like our wedding night.

Printed off directions and went to bed. In the morning Daisy and I left with the care of the children in mother-in-law and sister-n-law’s hands. Find our way to the building around 7:50 am but am angered to see the pharmacy doesn’t open until 8:30 am. They said I could take my Valium at 8 and that it would be in my system by my 8:30 appt. At 8:30 they called me back to “The Room”. She (I’ll call her Kai) took my blood pressure and I started in on a speech a drug user would be proud of. She said I could go back to get those pretty yellow pills but had to make it quick. I rushed to the pharmacy but the guy in front me had a lot of unnecessary questions. Y’know, questions like, “Do I take this orally or anally?” Remember how I said I wasn’t sure if the drugs had been ordered? Well, she couldn’t find the order. “When was it ordered?” she asked.

“I…I…um….the surgery was…..could… wife…...chickens and potato chips and sausage and…………….what was the question?”

“Oh I found it. Ordered back in May.”

It was like somebody had dumped a bucket of cold water on my head. “How do I get this into my bloodstream as fast as possible? Snort, smoke, IV?”

She said orally was best and asked when my surgery was. I said 5 minutes ago and she asked if I had anybody to drive me. I said yes and she said take two. I washed my pills down and realized I had to go to the bathroom. I looked down the hall to where I needed to wait for Kai and then down the other hall where the bathroom was. I didn’t want a doctor who felt rushed but I didn’t want to pee on him either. I ran to the bathroom and peed. As I was washing my hands I realized I would have two people standing over my crotch and, most likely, my legs slightly spread. Sh**!!! Do I need to wipe my backside? How I wished the bathroom had a bidet. My empathy bucket was now overflowing for any woman who has had a gynecologist appointment.

Husband/Father (You will feel a pinch...)

I am lying on a table with my pants and underwear off. There is a blanket over my man parts and the room is as cold as a meat locker. The woman approaches and stands over me with a washcloth that is soiled in a red substance and states, “I’m going to expose you now.” At this point the snippers had yet to come out but I was anxiously awaiting them as my prep work for the Vasectomy was in full swing. Let’s back up a little.

I had been anxiously awaiting my Vasectomy the whole week. Not so much that I was scared as much as I wanted to get it over with. There were only four things I was worried about and had become fixated upon. One, I needed to shave myself. Two, I needed some supportive underwear and did not have them. Third, I had asked the doctor to order me a muscle relaxer and was praying it had been done. Fourth, I needed directions.

Daisy had gone down to her parents to help paint their house on Thursday. She brought back her sister, and her mother. I welcomed them and said I was glad they could all be with me for such a special occasion. She also brought her father’s tighty whities. I’m not sure if either my father-in-law or I were keen on my wearing his underwear but evidently they were new. I checked for brown stripes but there were none. Don’t judge me please.

We all played a board game that evening. I stood up and asked the ladies, “Should I shave tonight or tomorrow?” All three said I should shave that night because you never know how long it will take and I wouldn’t want to be late. I agreed.

I brought down a lamp from upstairs and set out my tools. The instructions specifically said I should shave with a straight edge and not an electric shaver. Luckily Daisy had some straight edge razors, with a safety shield, that she uses for her legs. I didn’t have any shaving foam so I figured I would use soap. I looked at all the products and decided to use some Oxy pads for sterilization. That went ok. I surveyed again and thought I might want to use pre-shave lotion. It was for electric shavers but what the hell, I was in pre-shave mode. Then I thought, “I should trim first” so I got out some scissors and began to go through a labor intensive sprucing. The instructions said the scrotum but also specified the base of the penis. I was a little frustrated because I didn’t want to do shave too little and have them think I was sloppy but I didn’t want to shave too much and have them think I had thoroughly enjoyed myself. Finally, I had to ask myself………if I was going to perform surgery on my testicles where would I need…uh… “Clearance”. I told myself I would never perform surgery on my own testicles. Then the part of me that asked the question held the razor against the base of my penis and said, “Don’t get cute”. So the other part of me began instructing the part of me that held the razor where to begin shaving.

After I had gotten into a pretty decent rhythm I heard, “Taking a while aren’t you Goose? (snicker, giggle, giggle)”

I opened the door a crack and said, “Daisy, I need your opinion.”

Daisy grimaced and said, “Do I have to?”

Monday, June 21, 2010

(Man) Survivor

Anyone ever heard of a show called Survivor? Anyone remember where they were at when they first saw it? Daisy and I were lucky enough to see the first episode. It was our first night on vacation in Steamboat Springs, CO and we turned on the TV to see this wondrous sight. I mentioned some Bachelor/Bachelorette psychological theories that go hand and hand with the show’s premise. You may have heard this already but Survivor is based upon the Nash Equilibrium from John Forbes Nash (A Beautiful Mind).

“The concept is used to analyze the outcome of the strategic interaction of several decision makers. In other words, it is a way of predicting what will happen if several people or several institutions are making decisions at the same time, and if the decision of each one depends on the decisions of the others. The simple insight underlying John Nash's idea is that we cannot predict the result of the choices of multiple decision makers if we analyze those decisions in isolation. Instead, we must ask what each player would do, taking into account the decision-making of the others.
Nash equilibrium has been used to analyze hostile situations like war and arms races (see Prisoner's dilemma), and also how conflict may be mitigated by repeated interaction (see Tit-for-tat). It has also been used to study to what extent people with different preferences can cooperate (see Battle of the sexes), and whether they will take risks to achieve a cooperative outcome (see Stag hunt). It has been used to study the adoption of technical standards, and also the occurrence of bank runs and currency crises (see Coordination game). Other applications include traffic flow (see Wardrop's principle), how to organize auctions (see Auction theory), and even penalty kicks in soccer (see Matching pennies)”


Anyone heard of Danny's Song by Loggins and Messina? It was going through my mind all weekend. I’ve heard that if you listen to a song on repeat in your head then you need to actually listen to the song in order to make it go away. I just did it so I hope it works. Another male titled song I like is Daniel by Elton John. Anyone else out there like name titled songs? How about Pamela by Toto?

By the way, am I wrong that there no songs about Hazel eyed people until Kelly Clarkson’s Behind These Hazel Eyes? All the blue, brown, and green eyed people are pure while we marbled color eyed-people are considered grotesque and unclean. Whew, that felt good to get off my chest. Thanks for hearing me out.

Quick Hits

For those of you who check in from time to time, my apologies for not posting sooner. I went to the beach for father's day weekend and am going to Toy Story 3 tonight. Once I get internet access in one of my two offices I'm sure I'll be writing a lot more. To be completely honest, I think about what things to write about all the time. It's just a matter of an uninterrupted 1/2 hour of time to write. Maybe some of you can relate with more than just blogging. Anyway............

I was thinking about men and our bathroom behavior. This Yale student did a much better job than I ever could. Bottom line, no talking and spacing between urinals.

The one thing it didn’t touch on, at least through my brief reading, was men and reading material. Sometimes this is seen as a common thing for men to do. My friend summed it up for us both when he said, “Why would I want to spend any more time in a bathroom than I have to?”

I have noticed people want to eat things they attracted to. This makes sense when you just consider food. However, many say they want to nibble the toes of a baby or eat their ears. Or perhaps a lover who they would at least like to bite.

I hope none of you are offended but the Family Circus cartoon is about 49 years past its due date. The first strip was published on Feb. 29, 1960. I like cute things but this is sappy cute to the point of nausea. It also doesn’t take much creativity. I’ll make one up right now. How about if one brother says to his mom, “Billy said my feet were too big for my shoes but I think my shoes are too small for my feet.” (I actually had to google that one in case it was actually written.)

I have heard a couple of a no win situations posited by men. One of them is, “It’s the fourth quarter of the Super Bowl and the game is tied. 2 minutes left, no time outs, and your team is driving down the field for the win. Your significant other comes into the room and says she wants to have sex right now or else you won’t be having sex for a month. Queue horror music and gravely voice that says, “What….do….you…do?” If you care about both sex and football then you’re in a quandary. A guy could say, “We could have sex while watching the game” or “I can TiVo the game” but the person asking the question usually forces the guys into a clean answer of sex or football. I asked Daisy what she thought of the scenario and she said it was rather manipulative on the women’s part. A thoughtful woman would wait until after the game. Win or lose, the man would feel better. I gave her a hug and wept in her arms.

Fire just woke up so I have to go. Just one last thing, I went to truck driving school in Blytheville, Arkansas and experienced a month of man time. Would anybody be interested in hearing about it or would you rather know about Tattoos?

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

(Son) Road Kill *Part V*

Travel through Wyoming took us through a number of thunder storms. Discover that cab of larger truck leaks in heavy downpour. Begin purchasing energy drinks for after-lunch stimulation. Check into large Holiday Inn at Rock Springs, Wy. Winger's restaurant has great salads and Fat Tire beer. Buddy's knee is too sore for workout room. Complimentary breakfast buffet at Winger's.


Wondered if the US government could actually make Wyoming our countries primary garbage dump. Would anybody even know? Also wondered if Wyoming became a state simply because the surrounding states put up a border immediately upon realizing it was not worth extending any further. Thought perhaps the government decided to name national park Yellowstone since the state looked yellow and was surrounded by rocky stones and that if it had a hint of the name Wyoming in the title no one would come.

Wyoming drove me to drink that evening at Wingers. 40 oz. beers available at a good price. Upon finishing was actually asked by the waitress if I wanted “another one”. I think my exact words were, “are you kidding me?”.

Buddy: Saturday's travel took us the rest of the way through Wyoming, Utah, Idaho, and stopped for the night at Ontario, OR. Ate at a Winger's restaurant for the second evening in a row.


Close to home now and began to survey my truck. Empty energy drink cans and water bottles strewn across the floor, Visine and loose change in ash tray, empty snack wrappers (popcorn and candy) on the seat next to me, a pile of receipts for hotel and gas in a plastic bag, black market yellow looking medication sold to me at truck stop in Nebraska scattered across back pack with old dental floss and wet sweat towels hanging from dash. All right, maybe not that last part. Upon looking at myself in the side mirror, I determined this was not the face of someone people would go to see for mental health issues.

Buddy: Normal 7 a.m. departure from motel on Sunday morning. Gas at Baker City($4.21 per gal), stop at La Grande to top off tanks ($4.15 per gal). Except for Flying J at Ogden, Utah, Oregon has the highest gas prices we have seen. Purchase ice, water, and 24 oz. energy drinks from La Grande WalMart. Lunch(breakfast) at Arlington, final fuel stop at Troutdale ($3.79 per gal.). Grateful to arrive safely in Keizer on Sunday afternoon.


A bit of a culture shock getting back to the family since I didn’t think I would see them again. Unloaded truck with help of father-in-law and brother-in-law Daisy had to tie my arms to bedpost that night as I had physical withdrawal symptoms from my “late night cocktail” on the road which included 5 shots of tequila, 3 Tylenol PM’s, 3 cigarettes, and a 26 oz. can of Full Throttle energy drink.

I can’t thank my friends enough for talking to me on the trip. But the most thanks needs to go to the always honorable Buddy who was the best travel companion, and father, a guy could ask for. And thanks to Buddy Spouse for letting me borrow him for a week.

(Son) Road Kill *Part IV*

Buddy: Pro Football HOV is a great experience. Renewed confidence in the GPS, as it gets us through a very urban north Ohio and back to the west-bound interstate very efficiently. Brett Favre vs. Green Bay Packer saga is only topic on sports radio. Late afternoon traffic through Chicago is scary. Stay at Joliett, Ill on Wed night. It was a good day. Goose relaxed in the hot tub with people who had nice Harley Davidson motorcycle on a trailer(they had refused to move it from its sideways position in the parking lot).


Bowed to the HOF gods and kissed its hallowed ground upon entry. Cried upon seeing the bronzed face of my childhood hero Steve Largent. Was held and soothed by brawny men who held no judgment toward my red, puffy, and sobbing appearance. Learned everything I needed to know about motorcycle safety from my new friends.

Buddy: Up early Thurs morning for a 700+ mile travel day. Announcement that Favre traded to NY Jets. Dump truck with trailer nearly wipes out Buddy on freeway interchange in Omaha. Nice meal at Ruby Tuesday's (near Lincoln). Arrive at North Platte, Neb (totally exhausted). Motel has workout room with a Schwinn Air-Dyne. With stops, have been averaging 44 mph, so agree that we will not do another 700 mile, 16 hour day. Map out plan to travel average of 500 miles per day (10 to 12 hours), which will get us to Salem on Sunday afternoon.


Have an epiphany in Omaha. Found out how much I love my father after dump truck nearly took his life. Slowly begin to care more about him than our stuff in the back. My apologies to Kylie Cole as I have no interest in visiting University of Nebraska (only ten minutes from where we ate dinner) or staying any longer than I have to in Nebraska.


Up early Friday morning to begin trek across remainder of Nebraska, and into Wyoming. Goose determines the Flying J truck stop at Cheyenne would be a good place to eat and refuel the vehicles. He was wrong. Restaurant had a larger smoking section that non-smoking, and food was not great. Buddy sampled both breakfast and lunch buffets, while Goose wisely ordered from the menu. Fuel pumps wouldn't take Goose's credit cards, and employees were not helpful. Goose is apologetic about his un-Christ like attitude.


Summed up well. Upon reflection, would have rather chanced running out of gas and starving.

(Son) Road Kill *Part III*


Buddy thought that the truck and trailer could be cautiously driven to Oregon as it was, but Goose disagreed. The guy at Penske told us we had grossly overloaded the truck, and we had no alternative but to make a change. Assessed all options, and rented an additional smaller truck. Offloaded excess weight from truck, and had new tires installed on the car trailer and the front of truck. Goose made the right decision about not continuing on with the overloaded truck.


Lifted the door on the back of the truck to survey any possible damage. All was still exactly where it was placed originally. Buddy stands back, scratches chin, and says, “That’s 10 lbs. of crap stuffed into a 5 lb. bag”. Goose is both proud and horrified at the same time. When all the numbers were crunched it was going to cost almost $3,000 more on top of the $2,000 we had already spent on our 16 footer to rent the next largest size. Sadly, we had to rent another truck to save money. Goose thought it meant the end of male bonding and the end of sanity since we would each have to drive twice as much.


Going against advice from Penske guy, left Boston during late rush hour traffic, enroot to Syracuse NY. Arrive Syracuse about 1:30 a.m., Tuesday morning. Park truck and trailer at WalMart, a couple of miles from Goose's friend's apartment.


Woke up friend to get into apt. and left before friend woke.

Buddy: Up early to ensure truck and trailer are OK. Breakfast at Denny's. Purchase water, ice, padlock, and walkie-talkies. Head for Canton, OH late morning. GPS seems to take us on circuitous "goat trail" route to Canton. Arrive late evening. Nice hotel with workout room. Exercised, took showers, and went in search of Pro Football Hall of Fame (HOF). Dinner at Italian fast food restaurant near motel (all you can eat breadsticks for $ .25).Return to motel to plan next day's trip to HOF and travel. Agree we can't possibly stay with original plan to make it to Des Moine, IA the next day. Determine that we'll leave the HOF by noon, and attempt to get west of Chicago before we stop Wed night.


Today was better than yesterday. Had expectations to see HOF with a short trip today but was frustrated by GPS for second time. Went down farm roads that made little sense. Looked at map and found shortest distance isn’t always shortest time.

(Son) Road Kill *Part II*


Watched Buddy and Buddy Spouse sway back and forth with increasing momentum. Daisy started to cry and could not watch thinking they would die. Goose watched dumbfounded feeling helpless to do anything. Called them and asked if they were OK. Buddy Spouse sounded calmer than Goose thought she should considering the circumstances. Buddy states he lost a year off of his life. Goose can’t stop thinking of how the load was situated and how he was responsible for what happened.

Stopped for fuel in New Hampshire and hugged each other. Driving slower now, but soon experienced another episode of losing control of the vehicle where it was not possible to keep it in one lane of traffic. Arrive at Revere, Mass, (where Buddy and Buddy Spouse stayed when they visited Boston, and had rented the car).


Truck looses control and Goose says something along the lines of, “This is Bullsh--!” Daisy calls Penske help line and talks to a representative about what may be the problem. Gets address for nearest Penske service station.

Buddy: Goose took Daisy, Buddy Spouse, Beat and Fire to airport in the rental car while Buddy stayed with the truck and repaired the cigarette lighter outlet.


Got to the airport with help of the GPS. Watched the ladies get through security with two kids and several bags that include toys, diapers, stroller, burp rags, children’s Tylenol, rash cream, wipes, blankets, juice, cheerios, suckers, wallets, passports, and cell phones to name a few. Say a prayer for their 6 hour flight. Found out later Beast didn’t get to sleep until 30 minutes until touchdown in Portland, OR (11:30 pm Eastern Time). Was comatose from then on throughout getting off the plane, car ride down to Salem, and transition to bed which included diaper and clothes change. Fire perfectly happy with sleeping and food.

On the way back to Hotel the GPS gave strange directions and so Goose was confused. Ended up going through a toll booth without cash and had to fill out paperwork promising to pay the State of Massachusetts their $3.50 within 14 days. End up in East Boston going down alleys and through parking lots that send me down street Blah when it was actually named Blah Blah Blah. Miraculously end up back at Hotel but Goose then realizes he lost Penske truck keys. Began thinking about sitting on curb and crying. Buddy showed up and stated he had made an extra pair of keys while in Bangor. Never did find the originals.

Buddy: Took rental truck to Penske repair depot in Boston. It was a struggle getting there, as we missed turns and the GPS instructed us to make U-turns and took us through narrow alleys, and over streets where we had already been.


It was like what I would imagine purgatory would be.

(Son) Road Kill

Daisy said she thought I would change the words to the latest song I told you all about. I said I didn’t have to. Suddenly, a dancing pole grew out of the ground and Daisy wrapped her body around it saying something about it being an Olympic sport in 2016. She belted out “Rude Boy” by Rhianna without changing any words at all. Here are the first few lines. I think it’s about flying a kite or something.

Come here, rude boy, boy; can you get it up?
Come here rude boy, boy; is you big enough?
Take it, take it baby, baby
Take it, take it; love me, love me

Anyway, this Vintage post is in 5 sections because it is so freakin’ long. 2 years ago my dad and I drove cross country from Maine to the West Coast. It’s a He Said/He Said.

During the drive we took on trucker “handles”, Goose being Goose and Goose’s Dad being Buddy. Here is how the move across the country went from each of our perspectives…


Picked up rental truck Saturday morning. It is white (not normal yellow),has 36K on the odometer, tires are worn, no cruise control, and the jack is bent on the car trailer. When we try to remove the trailer from the truck, discover that the bent trailer jack is worse than we thought, and it would be unwise to take this on a cross-country trip. Penske representative says nothing can be done about the trailer jack, but we don't take "no" for an answer. Returned non-functional part to Penske and removed serviceable jack from another trailer.


Played “good cop/bad cop” with Penske representative with Goose being the good and Buddy being the bad. Seemed to fit our personalities rather well anyway. Goose thought briefly that we could try to go into business selling cars. Packed truck full of everything we own and much of what we gathered over the year in Maine. Fits like a glove and Goose is proud of himself for such a nice packing job. Thank all the guys who came out to help us. With Daisy as our director as to what needed to go and what stayed, how could we go wrong?

Leave Bangor early on Monday morning (8/4). All seem to have somewhat frazzled nerves. It has been a stressful few days getting the truck loaded and the house cleaned. The truck doesn't feel "right" as it tends to sway, and needs lots of pressure on the brake pedal to slow down and stop. Discover the cigarette lighter outlet and windshield washer don't work. The first stop is in a shopping center parking lot to feed Fire. Windshield washer problem is resolved by adding fluid, but not able to diagnose problem with cigarette lighter (need 12v outlet for GPS and cell phones). Several more miles down the road, we went over some uneven pavement and the truck and trailer became uncontrollable. It "violently" rocked back and forth from side to side, and felt like it was going to roll over.

(Husband) Sound of Daisy

If I turn on the TV for any reason the boys will flock toward it like vultures on a dead carcass. I am completely worn out with the Blues Clues and am almost to the point where I can recite all 16 episodes we have. I didn’t ask what they wanted to watch yesterday because looking at the cover of the Sound of Music may not be appetizing for a vulture of their kind. I simply put it in and used by behavioral observation as a social experiment. They really didn’t mind. In fact, when I went to turn it off they protested. Well, during the time we watched I heard the infamous “How do you solve a problem like Maria?” My mind went instantly to my wife Daisy. I love changing the words of songs to sing to Daisy when there is a possibility it may annoy her. And the things that are slightly irritating are the songs about her. In all honesty I don’t think I would have as much fun if she actually laughed.

Don’t be afraid to try this with a loved one. Maybe another song is more inappropriate in order to reflect your true feelings. It is a lazy way of entertaining them. I thought of editing this down to only include the negative but decided to be balanced. Here is an example:

She climbs a tree and scrapes her knee
Her dress has got a tear
She waltzes on her way to work
And whistles on the stair
And underneath her scarf
She has curlers in her hair
I even heard her singing in her cubicle

She's always late for work
But her penitence is real
She's always late for everything
Except for every meal
I hate to have to say it
But I very firmly feel
Daisy's not an asset to her employer

I'd like to say a word in her behalf
Daisy makes me laugh

How do you solve a problem like Daisy?
How do you catch a cloud and pin it down?
How do you find a word that means Daisy?
A flibbertijibbet! A will-o'-the wisp! A clown!

Many a thing you know you'd like to tell her
Many a thing she ought to understand
But how do you make her stay
And listen to all you say
How do you keep a wave upon the sand

Oh, how do you solve a problem like Daisy?
How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?

When I'm with her I'm confused
Out of focus and bemused
And I never know exactly where I am
Unpredictable as weather
She's as flighty as a feather
She's a darling! She's a demon! She's a lamb!

She'd outpester any pest
Drive a hornet from its nest
She could throw a whirling dervish out of whirl
She is gentle! She is wild!
She's a riddle! She's a child!
She's a headache! She's an angel!
She's a girl!

How do you solve a problem like Daisy?
How do you catch a cloud and pin it down?
How do you find a word that means Daisy?
A flibbertijibbet! A will-o'-the wisp! A clown!

Many a thing you know you'd like to tell her
Many a thing she ought to understand
But how do you make her stay
And listen to all you say
How do you keep a wave upon the sand

Oh, how do you solve a problem like Daisy?
How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?

Answer? You can’t.

Monday, June 14, 2010

(Father) My daughter-in-law is a drunken she-devil *Part II*

At that point we could only hope to contain her to this state. We had lost the first battle and she now had us on our heels. She is from another clan and tore him away to join them in Florida. Some say her Christian name means green field while some say golden brown. Some even say princess. Well if you mean she is the princess of hell then you are correct!!! If you mean she is a siren with green field eyes and golden brown hair then you are also in the right! She took us into her darkness without a second thought. I see your faces. I see how some of you look at me. We haven’t seen Tawna or my son for years. She lives in Florida and has no presence in this town. Really?!?

Cousin Jesse said he saw her last Christmas over at the punchbowl not speaking to anybody. Still don’t believe me? Jesse, come up here and tell them what you told me the other night.

(Jesse speaking) Well, I reckon I ain’t to good at tellin’ stories. But, the good lord wouldn’t think it very good if I didn’ tell dis one. Um……..I wuz…..uh…..I wuz’ going out fer a smoke last Christmas when heard crunchin’ behind me. I turn an see a woman in a flowin’ white dress. I was as frozen as my pappy’s shavin’ cream. She look like she floatin’ to me. I scream. I scream like a woman givens birth. She blew her hot breath on my neck. She step back and her eyes burrowed into my very soul. She knew wha’ I was thinkin. She say Beast ain’t around ‘cuz he out philosophizin’ and such. And then……

And what Jesse? And what!?!

An then I pass out. (Groan from the crowd).

Thanks Jesse. What Jesse didn’t tell you was he had a bottle of Zinfandel in his pocket. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. The point is Tawna and my son disappeared 5 years ago and only appears briefly out of obligation and to steal our wine.

Grandpa! I saw you dining last Christmas with Grandma. Chicken was the main course and yet you had no Riesling on the table. Where did it go? Ginger! I heard you telling Mary Anne last Christmas about how much you were looking forward to drinking your velvety dry wine with rich citrus (lemon, grapefruit) flavors. Where did it go? We all know where it went. You think if we don’t speak of her presence she doesn’t exist. It’s not true. Her hunger for wine will never be quenched.

Wha’……..of all that is holy where is my Pinot? Did they come to visit again? I remember seeing the guest room with a messy bed this morning but not seeing them.

Friends, let this be a lesson. Tawna is an active hunter who has acute vision and shows signs of intelligence in her choice of tactics and ability to develop new ones. She also has a sister and Fire is still single. Pray for me.

Then I woke up.

(Man) Quick Hits

I decided to follow my own blog to make it an even 8. Besides, I read every post.

I went to a softball tournament to watch my brother-in-law play. I was surprised to see more smoking then testicle scratching.

Daisy came home after playing soccer with friends and said I was a good husband. I asked her why and found out she has a friend who has to sneak out of the house to play. Husband doesn't like it. If that's my husband competition then where's the trophy?

Felt like I was training dogs today except they were my kids. Had a pocket full of peanut M&M's and would give them a piece every time they picked up 10 toys. They were diligent to say the least.

As a teenager I heard, "Just be yourself" many times but didn't know who I was to begin being myself. I found out today I still struggle with that problem. Especially when I compare myself to others. And even more especially when I compare my weaknesses with their strengths.

If you would like a more realistic view of what therapy looks like then rent "In Treatment" from Blockbuster or Netflix. It is a series from HBO. Hollywood managed to do quite well reflecting a Psychoanalytic/Psychodynamic therapy session.

(Father) My daughter-in-law is a drunken she-devil *Part I*

Daisy and I were on a walk the other day and were talking about how much we like our children’s personalities. We couldn’t help but talk about what the future might hold for them. Then I thought, “What would happen if we didn’t like our daughter-in-laws. I wouldn’t be able to stand up at the wedding and say, ‘I now have the daughter I always wanted’” The thought has stuck like a sliver in my brain. Here was my nightmare last night. We were camping with relatives and it was night. I have sat sulking for the majority of the afternoon and now rustle myself awake to say something.

Sound the horn! Gather from both near and far. All must come to hear of my legendary Daughter-in-law! Children! Sit closer around the fire so you may be fortunate enough to hear of these tawdry tales. You children must carry on the stories of old. Let these stories of Tawna sear into your bellies. Let its taste of sulfur be ever present on your lips. Keep watch! For Tawna may be among you this very night. Hovering over each and every one of you. Looking to quench her hunger on your very souls. My son Beast was her last prey and she won’t be giving him up anytime soon. Oh God, please protect my grandchildren because she never lets me see them.

Do you see the stars? Look up in wonder and view its glory. Now look at the trees swaying in the wind. Quiet now everyone. I said quiet. Brother Bill are you even capable of shutting up for one damn second? Oh yeah, I see your finger. It’s real pretty. Why don’t put that thing away before I break it. Hey Bill, make way for Grandma would you? What is it? It’s some sort of scooter thingy Wilford Brimley was selling on TV. How the hell should I know how much it was? Her insurance paid for it. I said her insurance paid for it you idiot. I’m trying to tell a story about my daughter-in-law people. Are any of you interested in what she has taken from me? Are any of you willing to accept the fact my son won’t be coming back? (Silence) That’s what I thought.

Friends and family, stare into the fire. Do you see how the flames are alive? You cannot predict where they will be next. Just when you think you are aware of its pattern of activity it will switch on you. Fire will lull you to sleep. It will impress upon you its desire to serve you with heat and light only to overcome you with its unlimited power. Daisy and I welcomed this woman into our home and was fooled into thinking she liked looking at family pictures. Before we knew it she was engaged to him and not interested in us any longer. By the time it was too late. Beast was in love.

Monday, June 7, 2010

(Man) Bachelorette/Bachelor Spoiler

I was at blockbuster picking out a movie tonight. Not to be watched tonight ‘cause Daisy is tuned into a show where the main character picks men based on how well they kiss or how safe she feels with them while doing something “scary”. Please note an example of the two factor theory of emotion.

The two factor theory of emotion is a social psychology theory that views emotion as having two components (factors): physiological arousal and cognition. According to the theory, "cognitions are used to interpret the meaning of physiological reactions to outside events."

Don’t read on if you like the Bachelorette and refuse any psychological influence to ruin your show.

High Bridge study

Social Psychologists Donald G. Dutton and Arthur P. Aron used a natural setting to induce physiological arousal in their test of the Two Factor Theory of Emotion. In their study, an attractive female experimenter asked male passers-by to complete a brief survey. She intercepted potential participants either at the end of a bridge or on the bridge itself. The footbridge used was the Capilano Suspension Bridge, a narrow bridge that spans a deep ravine. Following the survey interview, the experimenter gave the participants her telephone number in case they had further questions. The dependent variable in this experiment was the number of telephone calls received from the participants after the experiment.
Male participants were asked to meet an interviewer in the middle of one of two bridges. One was a safe-looking bridge and one looked more dangerous. An attractive female researcher interviewed the male passers-by in the middle of the two bridges. She gave them her telephone number in case they wanted to ask about the results. Men on the less safe-looking bridge were more aroused by the height of the bridge, and were likely to confuse their feelings for being 'lovestruck'. They were then more likely to call her back, looking for a date.

Also see alternatives such as James-Lange theory

and Cannon-Bard theory

Mind you, I watched three straight seasons from beginning to end with my wife so we could spend quality time together. I get the attraction to the show. It’s just food for thought.

(Father/Husband) Quick Hits

The boys and I hatched some sea monkeys last week. Fire thought they might like a cookie so now they are dead.

Daisy had her birthday recently so I decided to make it birthday week instead of day. I thought it was a great plan because she got more stuff. Laura thought it was lazy because I didn’t get her something on her actual birthday (for the record, I did sing her happy birthday Marilyn Monroe style). My female friends said it is up to the female to decide. Knowing I was screwed I went out and got her flowers a couple of days later. It was parallel to turning in a late paper; you get some credits but not the full amount as if you had turned it in on time.

I can’t listen to NPR anymore because, as Jack said, I can’t handle the truth. It’s true; I want to be ignorant and happy.

My gut is getting bigger while my butt is getting smaller. It’s sad when I remember I came in 3rd at a cutest butt contest in college. Out of 25 mind you!

Even though Daisy doesn’t react anymore, I enjoy using my Listerine barf routine. If I am washing my mouth and hear Daisy coming up the stairs, I will kneel by the toilet and “throw up” my mouthwash as she comes into view.

Since I am talking about my immaturity, I still enjoy a good, “That’s what she said” joke. I also like the joke where Daisy might say, for instance, “He really likes playing in his bath. He blows bubbles and drinks out of the faucet. Oh yeah, Beast and Fire like baths too.” You get it? Everyone thinks she is talking about one of the kids but she is really talking about me. That’s always good for a belly laugh with tears and a small amount of urine down one’s leg.

I came up with 60 blog subjects before I started this thing. I read them 5 minutes ago and they all seem incredibly stupid. One thing is for sure, I love writing this blog. It’s relaxing. I measure a busy, and somewhat stressful week, based on how much time I have to write on this thing.

Cheers to all of you who are reading.

Sunday, June 6, 2010

(Father) Hello Bee

I read a book to Fire today. Its title is "Hello Bee, Hello Me!" Let me read it to you.

Hello Bee,
Hello Me!
Hello Frog,
Hello Dog!
Hello Bee,
Hello Me!
Hello Bat,
Hello Cat,
Hello Snail,
Hello Whale,
Hello Bee,
Hello Me!

I looked at the author's name and found it was written by:

Joyce Aronson, Ph.D.

I'm not sure what to make of it.

(Husband) Daisy's Children

Before Beast was born, I already felt her attention slipping from me to the baby. I posed a question to find out where I stood in order of importance.

Goose - “If Beast and I both fell into a raging river and you could only save one of us…… (here comes the hammer)…….who would you save?

Daisy – “Beast”

Goose – Now hurt and rejected I wonder if having a kid was a good idea. What am I, a sperm donor? “But what about me?” I said.

Daisy – “Beast would be helpless to save himself.”

Goose – “I think I might be a little helpless too”

Daisy – “But you would have a better chance then Beast”

Goose – “That’s not the scenario. It’s about imminent death.”

Daisy – “Are you saying you want Beast to die?”

Goose – “No, I’m just saying if you saved me we could always have another baby with no harm done.”

She turned on her heel with an over the shoulder glare.

I guess some people (Daisy) can’t stand a well thought out argument. With that in mind, I took an article and changed things around a bit. Reference down below.

Daisy will protect her children to the very end and should never be approached under any circumstances. Even if you see her child left on their own, chances are she could be lurking close by and will perform a mock-attack or an actual attack if she senses danger. This defense measure of Daisy likely derives not so much from other children’s threats but from the obvious history of her husband who will kill her children for more attention. Daisy must be overly protective.

I imagine this scenario down the road a bit.

Teenagers are technically referred to as “habitual humans” and always a problem all their own. These teenagers have lost most of their fear of adults; they can be very persistent beggars. The smell of available food, whether it’s fresh or disposed garbage, can cause them to turn from beggars to demanders, a serious concern for parents. If necessary, Daisy will rightfully drive her children away from the house before the coming of their 20th year.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

(Husband/Father) BBQ season

I spent two hours cleaning my disgusting BBQ (mold was growing) last weekend. I guess BBQ's don't winterize well when you leave them greased over for 6 months outside under a tarp. Anyway, I hope you don't mind another vintage post. It's BBQ season and so I thought it was only appropriate. Here it goes........

I was planning on writing about our trip to Bend this weekend but I’m afraid that is going to have to wait. I have got urgent news to tell everyone. My soul bursts forth with an expectant announcement that today insurance saved my butt. We have all seen the news about Hurricane Katrina and how insurance companies have shrugged off the responsibilities to their clients citing small print. I’m sure it was rather confusing for those people when their insurance adjusters explained that, “Most of the time Nationwide is on your side, just not today”, or “You would have been in good hands if you lived a quarter of a mile south of here”, or “State Farm is actually over there, not here like you thought.”

Well today I made it through all of the clauses and pitfalls and actually was given a second chance at grilling. I was going to do something nice for Daisy and grill all of our Brats in the afternoon to heat up later for Dinner. Daisy likes to joke with me by saying “Why do I have to all the cooking around here?” making me think she doesn’t like to cook. But don’t worry everyone; I was still going to let her do the salad. Anyway, I come back in and tell Beast to watch the grill while I run out for some potato salad. When I came back Beast was watching Soap Operas, the grill was on fire, and the siding to our apt. was warped from the heat (I guess the only one you can trust is yourself in this life). Beat and I go out and grab a 99 cent burger at “the Jr.” as I like to call it (actually I don’t know if it’s Karl or Carl so I didn’t want to write the wrong thing. That would be stupid……much like setting the side of the apt on fire…..hmmmm.)

Beast and I go to the park to think about what he had done. I tell him I would shoulder the blame if he could come up with a good way to tell Daisy. He said to start off with something to insinuate he had been hurt and then anything else would seem trivial (Genius). I call Daisy on the cell phone.

Goose: I’ve got something to tell you but don’t worry, Beast is fine.

Daisy: What happened?

Goose: Beast is perfectly healthy, clean, and in tip top shape.

Daisy: I heard you. What happened?

Goose: (Crap, I must have already used this one). I go to plan B and cry.

After the phone call to Daisy I call the insurance agent (Daisy reminded me we have renter’s insurance). I’m still confused over what I see on the commercials and what I see on the news. “I just want to know the truth” I scream at Julie. Instead of telling me I couldn’t handle the truth she tells me it is a liability claim because I damaged someone else’s property and not my own. No deductible? She then tells me that I would qualify for the liability because it falls under fire and flooding. She gives me a claim number and the phone number of the claims agent. She even tells me that it happened to her one time and not to feel badly. I’m ready to do a commercial.

I call the claims adjuster and get the sinking in my stomach when he asks for details. “Julie didn’t ask for details” I tell him. “Who is Julie?” he replies. “My friend.” I say. “Can I get the details sir?” Well it only took a minute. Final hurdle now. I call the manager and tell him both the bad news (the siding) and the good news (insurance covers). I give him the claim number and claim adjuster’s number and tell him to have a nice day and that I have to get back to “really important things” when he interrupts and asks if he could have a look (not so much asking. There is only one answer and it isn’t no.) Oh, and by the way….his boss happens to be in town and will be coming too. Let me tell you something about “fine happy” John. And I don’t mean fine and happy. This guy cites people for just about everything and threatens to fine people in every newsletter. John said I couldn't have my toolbox out on the deck so my “illegal” tool box was dragged inside just as the knock occurred. John and his foot taller than me boss waltz in and immediately outside. Just as I was about to explain Julie’s kindness John said it wasn’t that bad and the boss told me that next time you should….blah…blah…blah. They walked out and I was free. Free and clear.

Now, I wonder if I can get a Craig's list BBQ for under 10 dollars?