Horse Manure Park

It started with a few flakes, but by nightfall it was the heaviest snowfall I've ever seen in my life. And it was 20 years ago today. Yes, 20 years ago today Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play I experienced the biggest blizzard of my life (so far).  The Halloween blizzard of '91.  It was one for the ages. I was 22 years old then.  And I had work ethic back then, I'll tell you.  I was living in St. Francis, MN, in an apartment complex.  It was my senior year at the University of Minnesota.  I worked for the U of M Food Services, and my main job was running a little coffee shop Monday through Friday.  I had to open the shop early morning on November 1st. Yes, I actually attempted to drive the 40 miles to Minneapolis to do my job. I didn't make it out of the apartment parking lot, though. I remember waking up in the middle of the night and looking out the living room window and I couldn't believe how hard it was snowing.  I set my alarm an hour earlier t

We made a big move yesterday.  Neil's bedroom was officially moved to the upper level and his old room on the lower level (formerly known as the baby room or nursery) was transitioned into the toy room.  It was a lot of moving, a lot of stair climbing (and a lot of complaining about the moving and stair climbing) but it was well worth the effort. We also moved our big screen t.v. (an old rear projection set) into the toy room so the kids have their own little movie theater when they want to watch a movie. Best of all, the adults now have the upper level to themselves and the lower level of our house is now being used for something other than laundry and sleeping! The new toy room.... at long last! Playing a fishing game.  Bean bag chairs will be coming this Christmas. In other news, my iPod Classic had a massive stroke yesterday.  I've no idea what happened to it.  I plugged it into my computer Friday night, but iTunes would not acknowledge it - didn't even re

Neil woke me up again at 3:40 AM (the kid has an internal alarm clock).  He quietly pads into our room and flops on top of me every night/morning at the same time.  He is freezing cold, so I am thinking he wakes up because of that reason. I put him back to bed right away, tuck him in and he falls asleep very quickly. But I am not blessed with the ability to easily fall back asleep once I wake up.  In fact, once I'm up, I'm usually up for the day. So I started writing this entry this morning complaining about my lack of sleep.  But I found myself hitting the delete key.  Some times you've got to look at things differently. So here I sit on my couch on this chilly late-October morning trying to change my crappy attitude.  I've brewed a pot of strong really strong so-strong-it-is-illegal-in-the-State-of-California coffee (which will do wonders in changing said attitude).  The house is quietly sleeping.  And I'm finding some time to write. Therefore I won

 "I'm having just a horrible day. I just realized that my square-shaped Fiji Mineral Water bottle simply won't fit into the cupholder of my new Audi R8. It's just ridiculous."

Can you mag ne what l fe would be l ke w thout the letter " "?  t would be k nd of we rd, wouldn't  t?

:-, :-o :-O :-( ) >-* :-)

I've been watching a little news today.  The demise of Colonel Moammar Gaddafi Gadhaffi Qaddafi  ...or however you spell his name... has finally come to fruition.  Yet another dictator has bit the dust.  It interests me because it will certainly be recorded in the history books - Colonel Gaddafi Gadhaffi Qaddafi ruled Lybia for 42 years.  A total megalomaniac. But why did he remain a Colonel?  You would've thought he would have promoted himself to General of the Army or Ruler of All Mankind or something.  I've always wondered about that. But anyway, I haven't been "tuned in" to the news as much as I normally would be simply because I find these news channels - namely the personalities of these news channels - very hard to watch.  I can't stand their faux concern, their calculated facial gestures.  The whole damn thing is nothing more than an orchestrated stage show under the guise of "news." However, good ol' Wolf Blitzer of CNN gav

Blog.  Silly name, eh?  A contraction of "web" (as in world wide web) and "log" (as in a diary or journal of events).  Put it together and what have you got? Bibbidi-bobbidi- "Blog." Right now I am at an all-time low for blog entries.  I've only logged 68 entries since the beginning of the year.  I am determined to blog more often and fill these fake digital pages from now through the end of the year, just like an unforgiving Tolstoy novel.  Blog, blog and blog some more, I say!  All I gotta do is write.  Right? It may seem like a snap, but a couple of key things are involved in writing a blog: Time and inspiration. First, you gotta have time to sit and write.  This also includes time to gather your thoughts.  It used to be pretty easy for me.  Now, it is often impossible.  I keep having this delusion that once the children are tucked in their beds, I can relax with a drink and write for a while (because I love to drink write).  But in rea

Yesterday was a chilly, blustery autumn day, but the sun was shining brightly and it was a great day to carve pumpkins.  I caught some nice light coming through the dining room window and snapped a few pictures of the action: It's pumpkin carving time! Pumpkins guts are always gross, no matter what. No, she cannot contain her excitement.  Really, she can't. My boy on a sunny October afternoon. Showing little brother the ropes to pumpkin carving. Touching pumpkin guts for the first time.  Eeew! Ava decided to try to carve her own pumpkin.  She drew the face and started cutting away. "Stop taking pictures, Dad!  I'm trying to concentrate!" It got a little messy, but she didn't give up. Her first, official did-it-all-by-herself jack-o-lantern. Neil and Mommy

I recently finished my third biography on Frank Sinatra.  I'm the type of person where once I become interested in a subject - whether it's a type of music, a person, a sport, or whatever it may be - I immerse myself in it.  I'm not really much of a casual observer.  I'm usually all or nothing.  And you wonder why I don't gamble? I don't know useful stuff, like carpentry or plumbing or electricity or computers or cars.  You know, "guy stuff."  Knowledge that would make me handy around the house.  A "jack of all trades" I am not. I'm not big on politics (I think every politician is in it for their own personal agenda and none has the country's best interest in mind.  Those who are halfway honest are quickly corrupted or run out of office by an inherently corrupted system).  I know nothing about accounting, other than black is better than red.  Insurance confuses me - all I know is you gotta have it.  So with the few spare minute

We all have a morbid side and mine is manifesting itself in the form of casually following the Conrad Murray manslaughter trial.  It interests me for a couple reasons - first, it involves a drug that I have personally administered hundreds of times in my nursing career, propofol. But mainly because it involves the unusual and tragic death of the greatest entertainer of my lifetime - and perhaps of all time.  Yes, that's how I feel about Michael Jackson.  I admit that I probably wouldn't feel this way if I hadn't seen him live in concert, but I did on Friday evening, May 6, 1988.  I entered the Met Center as a curious observer and I left a convert.  I've seen everyone from Kiss to the Rolling Stones to Paul McCartney to Elton John and only Kiss has come even remotely close to the kind of show Jackson put on. That's not to say I don't think Jackson was a man without problems really screwed up,  because he obviously was.  But he could put on a show like no o

Just in case any of you might wonder why I don't update my blog as often as I used to, I'd like to give you a visual example: It is difficult to type with one hand and one eye.  It is equally difficult to concentrate with a boy's head smacking you in the chin.

Well I look in the mirror,  What the hell happened to me? All that I had has gone away I'm not the young kid I used to be So I brush the hair back out of my face. That's okay, I knew this would happen But I was hoping not today. Hey kids, I'm not running anymore, But I'm on my way. "I'm Not Running Anymore" by John Mellencamp

My wife's 20th class reunion is next week in Texas.  We aren't able to go and I think she feels kind of bad about it.  However, on Facebook, one of her classmates posted a video of her in high school and here is a still shot of my smokin' hot wife about six years before we met.  Man, how gorgeous can a woman get?  I don't know how she made it out of Texas without a boyfriend. How did I get so lucky?  (When she sees I posted this on my blog she will file for divorce, so to my wife's family: keep in touch.  I love you guys.)