Horse Manure Park

I've heard it said that people look forward to the new year as a new start on old habits.  That pretty much sums up the notorious "New Year's Resolution." When the calendar says January 1st, we are programmed to think our old habits, alive and well on December 31st, will magically disappear into the ether at midnight.  We believe we will suddenly turn everything around and become thinner, healthier, smarter... And for some reason, we really believe it will happen .  Funnier still, we get fooled every single year... for about six days.  Then we fall right back to the old routine.  Indeed, a new start to old habits. So as 2013 fades into history, what does the new year hold in store for us? If we're lucky, another 365 days. Time to keep it real. What are my realistic resolutions for the new year? I resolve to... 1. Start washing my hands almost every time after I go to the bathroom. 2. Stop using the word f**k as a verb/adjective/noun in e...

The Girl: "Dad teach me something on the keyboard." Me: "What would you like to learn?" The Girl: "'Für Elise' by Beethoven." Me: "Um... how about 'Jingle Bells' to start with?" The Girl: "Okay, that would be fine." (yes, that was an actual conversation...)

Christmas Morning, 2013. The Boy and the Girl were up at the ass crack of dawn this morning.  Santa had stopped last night.  It's kind of a big deal. The Girl took great interest in tracking St. Nick yesterday.  It was fun watching him make stops around the world and it actually turned into a humbling geography lesson for yours truly. Dad!  Santa is going to Bamako next!  Where is that? Ummm....  let's watch and see. The Girl pointing out Casablanca to the Boy.  Santa stopped there, you know. This was all great!  The Girl was learning about new places while having fun tracking Santa.  But as the day wore on, and Santa had made stops throughout Australia, Japan, China, India, the Middle East, Russia, Africa, Europe and started journeying toward Iceland... I realized North America was next. This could get a wee bit dicey as the reindeer and sleigh inched towards the Land of 10,000 Lakes.  Maybe it was time to stop watchin...

It is Saturday morning, which means I have a few moments to sit and scribble down a few thoughts.  No excuses why I don't "have time" to write.  I must make time to write. And so I am. Earlier this week one of my favorite bands of all time finally - emphasize FINALLY - made it into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, after 15+ years of eligibility.  KISS waited a ridiculously long time to get in, considering their influential force in the rock world since 1973. But before I start twatting on about this band, I fully understand that many of you couldn't care less about them because you can't stand the look of them, and probably will not read any further.  I am cool with that.  You also should be on the board of directors at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, because that was their attitude for well over a decade as well. I think the board finally became aware, and more than a little embarrassed by, their own mishandling, misunderstanding and underestimation...

IF PLASTIC IS MADE OF PETROLEUM AND PETROLEUM IS A FOSSIL FUEL... THEN PLASTIC TOY DINOSAURS ARE ACTUALLY MADE OF REAL DINOSAURS.  RIGHT?

I've learned my lesson: never fall in love with a product that Costco carries, because it will be a short-lived affair.  And your heart will be shattered. Over the past few months I've grown addicted to Angie's Kettle Corn.  I freely admit it.  I am pathetic. Believe it or not, I try hard to keep from consuming an inordinate amount of sweets.  That's not an easy thing to do this time of year; however, Angie's satisfied my sweet tooth and was calorie-friendly.  You could have a large two cup serving for less calories than a half cup of ice cream. It was the best of both worlds.  I loved her it. Missing:  If you see her, tell her that I love her. A large HUGE bag only cost around $6 at Costco and it's produced in Mankato... Angie was a hometown girl! Angie was perfect.   Too perfect. A few weeks ago at Costco, I discovered Angie had left me. It actually gave me heart palpitations to discover that her salty sweetness had vanish...

What, pray tell, is the deal with vomit lately? A mere five days after the Boy erupted at the Christmas program, the Girl decided to give it a go.    And if there was some kind of warped sibling rivalry over whose puke packs the most punch, the Girl wins, hands down.  (Hey, if I've taught that girl  anything , it is to never do something half-assed.) It all started with about three minutes left of Monday Night Football.  I had just turned the game off; it was a blow out.  Time for bed. When suddenly a blood-curdling scream came from the Girl's bedroom. This better be good , I thought to myself.  Let me guess: a spider?  Or did she hear the house creaking and cracking from the stupid -12º F temperatures we had last night? No.  Her screaming was justified. When I flipped on her bedroom light, there she was sitting upright in bed and howling, with a colorful array of yuck in a massive puddle in front of her.  A frickin'  ...

Our troupe's goal was to make yesterday a perfect day. And we were almost successful. Keyword: almost. The first item on our list was to pay a visit to Santa Claus.  As I mentioned on Facebook earlier, Santa and Mrs. Claus stopped at the Shante (a cozy little coffee shop) in Pillager as a part of their 2013 pre-Christmas World Tour (St. Nick must love to travel). It is amazing what a difference a year can make.  Last year Santa scared the hell out of the Boy.  Not that I really blamed him for being horrified.  He was asked to sit on the lap of this strange, white-bearded, brilliant red suit-wearing fat man. It kinda reeks of creepiness when you really think about it. But this year, the Boy couldn't wait to see Santa.  When we got to the Shante he immediately began his quest to find the man with the bag.  Once in his crosshairs, the Boy made a beeline for the jolly ol' elf, budging in front of all the other good little girls and boys, and cli...

It was stupid cold this morning.   When I took the Girl to school, I did the ol' nares test and it came back positive.*  That's never a good sign. The temperature this morning on my trusty Springfield PreciseTemp was something like -15* F, although it hardly matters.  Once it is below zero, anything more is just a number to make it even more stupid than it already is. ~ So the Girl had her second grade Christmas program last evening, called "Hurray for Christmas!"  A cute 30 minute production.  She is very animated when she performs and she seems to love the stage.  Let's just say she's very enthusiastic when it comes to music. I cannot imagine where she gets that from. All dolled up and somewhere to go.  Think she's excited?  Second grade Christmas program, 12-5-13. With my little troupe there is always a story.   And last night was no exception. We (the Wife, the Boy and myself) settled into our seats in the gymnasium for...

There are times when you just need a head start.  I guess that's what this is. My resolution for the coming new year is to write more.  I get so much satisfaction from writing, some times it is almost like therapy.  And it doesn't come with the hangover a bottle of Jameson delivers. I'm very good at coming up with excuses why I don't write.  The biggest and best is "I don't have time." That's always a good one. And so my resolution:   To Make Time. Why would I not do something I enjoy so much?  That's a really good question, Sam. I can only assume this electronic chicken scratching will be around for a while in cyberspace.  Certainly through my lifetime.  My hope is that my two tax deductions will have something to look back on someday. Reading the old man's blog. I've always thought how neat it would have been if my parents had kept blogs - of course, both were already gone long before "internet" bec...