i want some cookies.

things that happened today. (in no particular order)

woke up.
went to work.
worked.
came home.
played with the kids.
played with my gal renice.
ate dinner.
went to a friends house and watched a movie.
came home.
went on internet for awhile.
posted on my blog.
(the following is a prediction of what may yet transpire, results may not be accurate, this is not science, just speculation, author may have relied upon artistic merit or looked into a crystal ball)
went to bed.
slept.

What is brown and sticky?

















.........................a stick

all hot dogs go to heaven

this week's recipe. a.k.a. the perfect hot dog.(serves 2)
2 wieners per person, make sure the wieners are not frozen, throw them in a microwave for a minute. i generally use oscar meir wieners. regular, beef. byproducts, watch for bones...
don't use hotdog buns, that's lame. use presliced white bread.
slap some butter on the the slices (this prevents the bread from peeling off onto the wiener). don't warm up the bread, don't cut it, brown it or otherwize molest it.
1. heat up wieners,
2. butter bread
3. place wieners DIAGONALLY across the bread slices.
4. lay down a mustard stripe along the length of the wiener. about 4mm in width.
5. lay down a ketchup stripe ONTOP of the mustard stripe, about 4mm in width. same
length.

A couple notes about mustard and ketshup.
-did you not know, have you not heard, that mustard will separate if left for any amount of time in the fridge. therefore, it is vitally important that you prepare the mustard for service before you attempt to lay the mustard stripe. depending on what kind of mustard you have and what type of container you prefer. you will find that everyone has a preference when it comes to how to hold the mustard. the two modes are in a glass container with a widemouth lid. or a plastic squeeze type container with either a pop-top or twist style cone shaped applicator. When using the glass wide mouth container one can simply use a butter knife to "stir" the mustard to get proper mixtures. i don't recommend using this type of application b/c you can't lay down a nice stripe, and remember, appearance is everything. That being said, i like to use french's mustard, i think it's the best. but back to the point, to ensure the mustard is "mixed" before you lay down the stripe upon your fine wiener, you simply twist open the dispenser , hold it upside down and quickly motion the container rapidly up and down 1 or 2 times. you will see the liquid separation come out.
Ketchup is essentially the same, it separates, give it an upside down shake and you'll be in business.
Note about the spelling of ketchup; who cares....

So now we have cooked the wiener, prepped the bread, dealt with the mustard and red stuff, now what? do not attempt to wrap the bread around the wiener until you are prepared to eat it. This demands commitment. you must not have any other distractions. unless you are watching t.v. or listening to the radio. when you are ready to feast simply grab the corners opposite to the corners that have the wiener tips closest and with your thumb on one side and your pinky on the other simply pull the two corners up to fold around the wiener. you may have to go slow with this as to not break the bread or fold it in half. this takes practice and patience. you won't get it the first time. so relax. remember, the purpose of the butter on the bread is to hep keep the bread from crumbling, it will also prevent the bread from getting wet from the wiener condensation, and will prevent the mustard and ketchup from soaking into the bread causing further distractions.

Like i said, this takes focus and effort, but it like baseball, if you hit a homerun everyone will cheer, but if you stike out and smash yourself in the face with the bat, everyone will laugh.
enjoy the world's best hotdog.

something profound to think about.

this morning has been one of the most productive mornings ever. the reason for this is that i have developed what i think is the perfect pancake recipe. There are two parts to this formula. actually, three. The first is the ingredients, this is simple. all i use is some pancake mix (whatever kind you want), cinnamon, vanilla and water. Mix the pancake mix and water to a ratio of about 1-2. i cup of mix per two cups of water. This is crucial, you don't want it to look like water that has a tan tinge but still fluid enough that it spills easy when lifted with a gravy ladle. Make sure you wisk it so that there are no lumps of dry mix left in it. sometimes i wisk the dry mix first to break up any clumps. Then add the cinnamon and vanilla.

The second factor is the cooking, Next pre heat a skillet, pan whatever, on low to medium heat(4-5) glaze the pan with some butter but be careful not to burn the butter. Use a serving spoon dish out three pancakes, i prefer them to be about 4 inches in diameter, but that's up to you. they only take about 2-3 minutes per side, you have to babysit them abit but be careful not to destroy them, you'll know when they are done because the bubbles will burst and there will be a nice golden brown hue. the characteristics of a good pancake are that it's cooked right through, it has bubble holes which encapsulate the butter and syrup creating tiny little flavor packets of goodness. It has to have a nice golden brown color, and a brown eclipse of pancake crust around the perimeter to add the perfect amount of texture differential. Make sure you use two pans and alternate so you always have a steady flow of pancakes going. Another thing to watch for is the heat of the pan after you've cooked a bunch. when you make the second batch, the pan will be hot enough to burn the butter that you glaze the pan with , (i glaze every time) it is a good idea to hold the pan in the air away from the element and wave it a little in order to cool it down enough so the butter doesn't burn. Don't use water. Adding butter helps with flavor and prevents the pancake from sticking to the pan. griddles maintain a steady heat so burning isn't much of a concern.

The third piece to this puzzle of joy is serving and enjoying. They're is actually two parts to this as well, it depends whether you are making the pancakes for yourself or for others. But they're are rules that apply for both scenarios. In either situation, pre-heat a plate so it is just warm enough to maintain the heat of the pancake. This can be done by placing the plates in the oven on low heat, but only for a couple minutes, remember, all you want to do is take the chill away from the plate, don't burn your fingers. To serve a bunch of people you'll need to store the pancakes in the oven on low so that you can build up a supply to serve everyone at once. In my opinion, you should maybe then have three pans going. I find that a couple things happen when storing pancakes in the oven. They may condensate creating a rubbery texture, or if the oven is turned up to much, they might dry out. either situation is avoidable by simply cooking more pancakes at once. But remember to only store the pancakes in the oven just to keep them warm, no more than a couple minutes. In group settings, a griddle comes in handy. In a group setting you will also undoubtedly have more than just pancakes. There are some essential complimentary dishes to be considered. They include; bacon, eggs, ham slices, fruit, (strawberries, blueberries, bananas, peaches, pears), smoothies, coffee, milk, chocolate chips, marshmallows, food coloring for the festive occasions such as Christmas (green, red), or Halloween (black, orange)...your imagination is your limit. I also always use the classic butter and syrup as condiments.

The final scenario to consider is when you find yourself as the lone eater. In my opinion, to enjoy this breakfast when you are in lack of good company such as friends or family, a great substitute is the good ol' Saturday morning cartoon. prepare the pancakes, the coffee, and the bacon, this is where your skill will make or break you as timing is everything. Have the desired cartoon already playing, have the coffee ready sitting on the table beside the couch, have the blanket ready to cover your feet, and the remote by your side so you can flip through the channels and be the ruler of your own world as you enjoy the worlds best pancakes.

darth blues

Darth Blues

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rossland, skidville or rossvegas

funny thing about facebook. not the people you 'rerun' into, but the places your reminded of. At least this is true for myself. One particular place is the town where i spent my childhood, (and i stress the word hood) and my teenage years. Rossland. type that name in the searchbar and you'll be cast into another world. of course rossland is another world. It seems though, that it's been many worlds. perhaps every generation sees it differently. i wonder how one little town can change so much yet still be the same. I lived there in the 70's, 80's, and a bit of the 90's. Now being alive and remembering the 70's may make one feel old, but what really makes me feel old is not so much recognizing the names of the people in these facebook rossland groups but recognizing that these names are the children of the people i went to school with. THAT makes one feel ...aged. But checking out the forums about rossland compels me to release some thoughts. It's like exorcising demons or belching after a drinking a can of pepsi in one gulp. So what are people talking about these days? people are talking about the old elementary school "cook avenue school" that they tore down a couple weeks ago. "are you a smart cookie?" people were sad about that. i guess it sucks to see an institution go. My fondest memories of that place are; getting in fights, and sneaking out of detention. and now that it's gone i guess i can admit that....(deep breathe)...it was me and some girl i was trying to impress who broke a bic pen open and wrote all over the freshly painted walls by the grade one class. But all in all, it was an experience. the school was in my neighborhood, a 10 minute walk from my house. The highschool is another story. Rossland senior secondary. Class of 89, 32 grads, 300 students total. How many people know that it half burned down in the early 90's. no one seems to have mentioned it in these forums. I remember being in home ec. class and at the start of more than one class i would break a tea bag open on an element , turn the element on low heat and then sit down for class. i read a story about how another kid lit the teachers desk on fire with lighter fluid and how she retired a couple hours later. I wonder if he realizes that the same teacher though it was her fault for the fire that destroyed half the school. School was brutal for me. i spent more time staring out the windows at the bright blue sky then i did at the dusty green chalkboards. I would play sick so i could go to the nurses station and sleep on a cot. I skipped out of more classes than i attended. I actually would forget where my locker was. And this was half way through the year! I remember in grade 8 and 9 we didn't have electives yet, so i would just go to the same classes that i knew i shared with certain other students. but in grade 10 these students would take different electives than i did, and i couldn't follow them anymore....i didn't know where certain classes were. And this was grade 10! did i mention that there were only 300 kids from grade 8 to grade 12. even though it seemed like a big building, it wasn't a big school. It's a wonder i even graduated. Wow, reading this over makes me realize i was not the honor student that i portray myself as. I remember those high school years and not being surprised that instead of school being my focus, i think skateboarding, bmxing and snowboarding were my focuses. And the topic of a skatepark was an issue back then and still is alive and well on facebook today. even back in the 80's we were trying to get a park. the city admin. offered a solution. a crappy dead end road full of cracks and weeds. just an old street. No ramps, curbs or anything. now almost 20 years later, it looks like rossland may finally get the park it deserves. Another thing they're talking about on facebook is that they've renamed the annual celebrations that used to be called "golden city days" to "rossfest". geez, we renamed it years ago, 'cept we called it "cold and shitty days". i still like our name the best. They used to make a big sandpile out behind the supervalu and put pennies and nickels in it and let the kids dig for the change. Then after the events you'd find me and my friend digging around looking for the change that everyone missed. It happened at the end of summer and usually it was just as our name implied. i think that rossfest is a lame attempt to capture what some would like rossland to be known as. A hip, trendy town full of culture and a coolness. Ross-vegas they call it. however, i know better. it's still cold and shitty days, and as cool as ever. But i could talk all night about rossland, I knew about rossland when 'boomtown emporium' was called the o.k. store, and was actually a store, and owned by a crazy asian named sheck. maybe i'll talk more in the next post in 2 months time, i could probably write a book about all the crazy shite that happened there, and people would read it. maybe this is it, we'll see.

new post time

well, it's been awhile, I'm sure your all super exited that all your daily checkings of this page have finally paid off with the discovery of a new post. whaa whooo. so what's the verdict? what's the decision? as in all things i try , i think i'll keep on slogging on, trying to create the discipline and extrovertness(?) to keep this thing going. still have no real direction, just whatever, whenever. that's about it. the latest news you ask? just spent 7 day son the coast of Oregon and Washington with the family. 3 days in cannon beach and 3 days in Westport Washington with another family. Two towns, two totally different worlds. both bordering the ocean and feasting on it's offerings. cannon beach, complete trinket trap, same with seaside next door. Cannon beach has a good campsite right adjacent to town. complete with hot water for free.and a five minute walk from a grocery store, coffee shop and some great restaurants. plus it has the beach. some surfing can be had, it's there, i won't say, in the spirit of keeping the treasures only for the ones who dig for themselves. but it's not hard to find, or is it? there is crap, and there's mack, and I've found both. Seaside, an even bigger trinket trap. It seems to me to be the typical tourist beach town complete with carousel and old school 80's arcade. fun fot the family. the next stop was Westport. fishing town, and that's it. go talk to Al at the surfshop and he'll hook you up. west port has three "spots" . i surfed at the jetti. it's a beach break. good place for geek like me to figure some stuff out. the only thing i figured out is that i know why there' are alot of older people surfing. it's because that's how long it takes go attain any kind of competence. years and years. but more on that later. All in all, a great vacation. can't wait to go again. Next time hopefully more prepared.

I've been reminded that it's been a month since I've posted anything. and to tell you the truth, i didn't really miss it. i guess the novelty has worn off. or, the experiment has ended. it hasn't been a failure, but rather an expedition to see what it was about and if blogging was something for me. i am realizing that it's probably not. I've tried to journal may times over the years, and each time has resulted at the same conclusion. loss of interest. some people swear by them. they love to write down the events and thoughts that shape their lives. i guess i find that my life is pretty average and not really that much of a seller. And actually, i don't mind it that way. i don't need to be in any spotlight of any kind. I hear it's good to journal and at work we are encouraged to, but that's for other reasons. I've journaled before with moderate success when i travelled around. which is cool to look back at, but how often do i do that. and I'd rather spend that time not reflecting but creating new memories. so in conclusion, i think this little fun time here will be closing down. unless, i have some direction or inspiration. which at the moment i don't. feedback will determine. obviously i could use this to do a number of things, like talk about whatever comes to mind, i could just tell stories, i could pick a direction, give this thing some sort of focus, whether it be bikes, firefighting, or whatever, we'll see. but at this moment, I've got more important things to do. I'm off to make some memories.

uh, hmmmm....

geez, i was looking around for a video to post and stumbled across this one. "Young@heart". Doing their version of coldplays' 'fix you'. i really don't know what to say about this little jem. I like it though. At first i laughed, then i was kinda sad. Then i felt a tinge of pride for these old coots who are still living the best they can. I mean, the guy is wearing an oxygen tube and singing. They all look as if they're going to fall of their chairs at any moment. I was actually hoping he'd spark up a smoke, take a drag, slowly exhale it and launch into Chris Cornell's song, "Say hello to Heaven"....

young@heart, old in body.

facebook

remember valentines day as a wee tyke in elementary school? were you a cool kid who got lots of valentines? Did you get any? Do you think it had any effect on your self esteem as a child? skip ahead as many years as you need to till you get to today. Now in days, it can be like valentines day everyday, if you have facebook that is. I do. wanna know why? i'm not sure i know why. like everyone, i was curious. i suppose the premise is that you can 'connect' with people you haven't seen for 15 years. But is it really that cool? do you really want to 'get back in touch' with that person you went to school with or worked with or whatever? As one girl wrote on my 'wall', she get's to reconnect with the 'relics of her past'. I thought it was funny. I realized i am a relic of her past. It made me think, other than a couple actual friends that you really do miss, about 80% of everyone that invites themselves to be your friend may be using you as a number to show the world just how many friends they have on facebook.
But oops, now i've done it. will this piss anyone off? will people stop wanting to be my friend? oh gosh, i hope not, or not. But whatever, it's a fad, a trend. It serves it's purpose, it's just another cool thing to do. closeness at a distance.

big al

there is a guy I work with whose name is Al. Big Al as i like to call him. anyways, nice guy. however, on the weekend he suffered irregular heart rates three different times. he went into the hospital and they stuck a pacemaker in him. It seems though he has some sort of virus that is attacking his organs b/c his liver is also under attack. he's in critical condition. He's a bit older than me. the point of this rant is to mention him and say that if you, the reader, believe in prayer, positive thoughts, rain dances, or whatever, then give a word up to the Lord for Al's healing. BTW, he happens to be my ride home somedays and i'm to lazy to find someone else to commute with.

africa

My wife says she wants to go to africa. but me, i'm not so sure i''d want to go. I just don't think it's that great of a place. however, I think africa would be a better place if they put speakers everywhere and played african music out in the jungles and near the waterfalls. Then I think it would be a cool place to visit.

how to deal, part III

here's a couple suggestions you can try to make things easier in life. remember, good looks can only take you so far, and money isn't everything. But if you can incorperate the following little rituals into your life you'll find that people will respect you more, want to be around you more, and even take a bullit for you. do this;
1. whenever you see an airplane point it out to the person your with, "ohhh loook! an airplane!".
but make sure you do this with every plane you see, and act like you've never seen one
before.
2. turn the radio dial to static, listen intently, and every once in a while point to the radio, look at
who ever your with and ask "did you get that?!". and keep doing that. It's also fun to interupt
them when they're talking ,"shhhh, quickly now, get a pencil, i'm recieving a message...."
3.whenever someone tells you something, doesn't matter what it's about, answer with the
following phrase, "looks like you have some soul searching to do"....
4. whenever someone askes you to do something or scolds you, reply by saying "sometimes my
skelekon doesn't understand you"...(i learned this from my son).

remember, don't be afraid to try these out. at first it may seem awkward, but eventually people will oblidge you and play along for fear that you may snap and attack them with a stapler. you will have the upper hand and can then someday the world will be yours!

how to deal part II

well, i've had a day to mull over my little spazz fest. and upon thinking about it and realizing that i had, in effect, punched a vehicle in the face, twice. and did some significant damage. not trying to brag here, but i came to the conclusion that; it felt good and i still don't care. call my actions stupid, juvinille, and uncalled for, i won't disagree one bit. but like i said. ahhhh, i needed to do that.

how to deal.

what do you do when situations arise that you don't see yourself getting through. I mean, like, how do you deal with things that get you. when problems arise and seem insurmountable. when they role like waves and keep pounding you face first into the sand and coral reefs. how do you handle this. here's my latest situation. i 'd like to think that i'm a pretty mellow fellow, the anti-drama queen.. at least i used to be. i think it was my kootenay upbringing. but that's another story altogether. back to my question. o.k., take me for an example. i've been trying to get my van running smoothly for a while now. and it has improved. except for this one problem that' i haven't had the time or ability to take care of. it came to the point where i had to break one of my cardinal rules, which is, don't take it to a shop, i mean NEVER! figure it out yourself and save some money. But even i have my limits. and so i've bowed down and taken my van to a shop. except, i've keep having to take it back. you see, because i bring it in after it's stranded me somewhere and isn't running. I'm getting the feeling that they think that getting it running again is fixing it. well, it's not. That is just a sign that something is wrong. there is a deeper issue. how do i know? because after a while the EXACT same thing happens again. pretty much every weekend it breaks down, then on monday i take it in, and by wed, or thurs they call me up and say "yeah, we fixed it". when in actuality, those cocky bastards haven't done anything except set me up for another letdown. . well, i picked it up on thurs and today(mon) it started to act up again. this time it was me and mckenzie going over to one of his friends house to spend the afternoon in the rare vancouver sun. about half way there though, it started to go south on me. i barely got it home. knowing that i had just minutes made it worse, and to top it off, i think i hit every red-light and slow driver in western canada trying to get home. even mckenzie is tired of the bullshit. he's all like "bad van! you always bweak in peeshes, bad, naughty van"...well anyways, my frustration towards this van and another ruined day boiled over to that point where i just didn't care anymore. i drilled the windshield with a left hook that put a nice hole and spider crackin the upper corner. but the seatbelt caught my shoulder and slowed down my strike, so it didn't satisfy me, so i let go with a right cross straight to my field of vision. anyways, the windshield spidered so bad that it actually turned all white, and the window came out of it's placement. that shouldn't of happened. i felt lame about this, but didn't really care. still not sure how i feel about it. i did say sorry to mck if it scared him, but he said he wasn't. another shining example of my awsome parenting skills.
everyone is always asking "how's the van running?' and all i can say is "hmmm, good for now"....so tomorrow i have to go to the shop and explain, or at least try to explain, (they seem to not understand that getting it started is not fixing it). but why bother. they can suck it, they had their chance. so like i asked, what do you do when problems seem insurmountable. those times when frustration and anger meet for lunch and decide to spew like the fat kid after to much turkey gravy at thanksgiving dinner? the funny thing is, i'm glad i punched out the window. I hope people think it's barbaric and uncivilized. because we all live our lives and are afraid to say and act how we really want to. another thing is, it's not the first time i've done it, and what's even funnier, is that i'll probably do it again, how cool is that.?

why on saturdays?

ahhh geeez, i fell into the well again today. why does this always happen on saturdays. took 9 hours for someone (R), to realize i was not around and that the distant, muffled, echo-y, gurgly voice in the back-yard by the old outhouse was not really supposed to be there. i guess it didn't help that i was actually using an ancient dialect of arameic to get anyones' attention. why on saturdays? why on saturdays.

a true story.

i remember once waiting for a bus, and it just so happened that a speckled trout approached me and asked for a nickel. I said 'nope', even though i had just found a dime. I chuckled to myself as i got on the bus because it seemed funny to me that a speckled trout would need a nickel. Then i wondered, what if the speckled trout needed the nickel to complete his (or her) bus fare. I didn't want to look back at the bus-stop. but i did. and i was right. and in that moment i caught a glance of the speckled trout standing there looking down at the change in his/her fin-hand and shaking his/her head. he/she seemed forlorn and disheartened at his(or her) predicament. oh well, i thought. at least I'm not a speckled trout. then i felt better.

uh oh.

sheeesh. this frightens me. i actually got to my blog site from someone elses link. yikes! now i'm really conflicted. cause i'm getting ideas of who reads this crap. speaking of crap, ahhh, the van. love it. i'm pretty much your basic kick me in the nuts type of guy when it comes to anything vehicleicious. why you ask? let me explain. if any of you have been following my gals blog as of late you'd notice that every once-in-a-while you see a post about the progress in regards to the van. well, to say the least and spare you of the gory details i'll explain it like this, you know when on t.v there is a patient on the operating table who keeps flatlining dying and the great doctor keeps bringing the person back from entering the light? well, replace doctor with janitor, and replace patient with van, and replace light with junkyard, and you get the picture. nuff said. no sympathy needed. i feel sorry for myself as it is. i don't know why, i'm so hot, i have that to fall back on. But back to the van. the other night, it broke down and needed a tow home. so as it's loaded onto the flatdeck truck i look at it and honestly think to myself, wow, what a great looking van! whaaauuuuhhhhttttt(scooby-doo voice)the thing has been nothing but troubles since january, and here i am looking at it thinking it's the best looking car on the road. but i think it's it's time to replace it, therein lies the problem. what should take it's place. so i've created a list of potential, (and real) options that i've been thinking of. but i need your help on this. i'll try to find pics and i'll list the choices and it's up to you all to tell me what to get. I have my preference but l tell you later, here are the candidates;





a). 1968 cadillac sedan deville

b). 1968 bay window

c). 1972 dodge dart swinger

d). stick with the brown couch

now, i won't even get into the bikes i'd like to get, another time perhaps? and there are more cars. to many to choose from. so anyways, what do you think? remember, i have found these vehicles (not these exact ones, but reasonable facimiles thereof), i don't care about the price of gas, i just want to look cool. or, i could just keep the van, hell, by now it's practically new, and doesn't owe me a penny.

i want a horse now.

Awful Indian Movie Horse Stunt - Click Here for more great videos and pictures!

stryper!

tell me i'm wrong, stryper is the best band ever! i'm dying here, oh my sides, they ache, e dei moi, i die..ahhahahahahahhhhh!!!!!! the yellow and black attack! bzzzzzzzzz stings like a bee! below is the best video ever.

wtf.-again

here's another 'old post' re put up from my old blog. i guess i'm just lazy, yep, that's it. but it still is relevant at this moment.

ok. wtf! why am i such a friggin tool when it comes to anything that has a keyboard attached. this includes phones. i really am a neanderthal. i am actually a the monkey that learned to drive a big wheel at age two and then somehow figured out how to drive 4 big wheels and scrape a living together doing it. must make people feel safe to know that i'm behind the wheel of a 27 000 kg piece of steel.damn pop upsz that are in the disguise of "security alerts" whatever actaully, the bane of my existance. nasher of teeth. here's a piece of advice, don't bother. anyways, forgot my password, again. almost threw the computer across the room, again. actaully, heres' some more advice, the sooner you realize your a complete fool. a stick with two legs, a buffoon with a balloon, a lightbulb with a loose rattle when you shake it, the guy who wants to wear the lampahde at the party but doesn't have time because he reads maps upside down and goes in the opposite dierction,or a curser that's frozen on the screen like a friggin deer in the headlights, the sooner you will be able to relax and not throw a computer across a room. the five things i hate in life but for some reason can't live with out are; computers, phones, and roads. what am i to do. and another thing, how does one "link "from one blog to another? i know it's easy and probably written rite in front of me, but if it's not a big colorful picture with either a car or a girl, then i won't understand. sorry. oh yeah, started reading another book, 4 actually, but one in particular is called "lamb" by christopher moore. darnit, funny stuff. it's about the life of Jesus as told by his childhood friend "Biff". another is "the long way round", the story of ewan mcgregor and charlie boorman as they road their bikes around the world. two guys that i instantly wanted to be friends with the moment i saw the show on t.v. 2 guys that i think i could laugh with and have a good time with who would be into doing the same thing. It's too bad that there aren't that many guys who are into that anymore. the next is "south of the pumphouse" by primus bassist less claypool,who always reminds me of fishing, which is the best sport in the world. and the 4rth is " the knights of the black and white", by kelowna author Jack White, who has written about 12 books all in a series chronicling the story of the arthurian legend i've read all the others, so i can't stop now.. so now you have some things i hate, and some things i don't hate. hate is a strong word, i know, and it works quite well. thank-you and goodnight.
so, now what.

hoodride

my girl

Would you believe that i have a daughter. I know that sounds like a redundant statement. in fact, to me it sounds crazy, what the heck is God thinking? a daughter? me? whaaaauhhhttttt?

you may think to your computer screen, 'uhh, yeah mike, you do'...duh.
but...think about it for a second...i have a daughter, a little girl. a sweet little princess. a beautiful little blue eyed sweet-pea. a curly red headed ball of fire who always catches me in her gaze and grabs me in her little hands and wraps my heart around every finger. with ease. she is feisty, outrageous, fiendish, adventurous, and always wanting to be where the fun is . she knows what she wants and will stop at nothing to get it. If you get in her way you put your flesh in jeopardy. I love her because of that. And because she shows me who i need to be. for her, and who i want to be, for myself....and she's not even two yet...

how i feel today

abc's

today as i was having a 'coffee break' downtown in new west, strange reality reared it's massive face and challenged me to a duel. I was sitting in a cafe wondering why the waitress brought me toast with jam but no peanut butter. This would not do, i thought, and got up to go find some peanut butter. Right as i turned around i noticed two men at the table behind me, one man was slumped over and the other guy was trying to decide what to do. apparently the poor sap sitting at the table was having some sort of medical meltdown. We lowered him to the floor and i proceeded to do some preliminary first aid until help came. Anyways, this guy told me he had no idea what was happening or why. He didn't have a condition that he was aware of, and no missed medication. So this was a complete surprise to him. One minute he's sipping o.j., chewing on toast and eating bacon, the next laying on the floor not knowing if he'd be alive in 5 minutes....
it's kinda funny the way mortality lets me know it's around, lurking. It keeps me focused i suppose. Focused on the things that are important to me. The funny thing is, i've dodged quite a few 'bullets' in my days, like i said before, more than once i've wondered if i'd be alive to wonder about what had just happened. But i'm here, so....anyways, learn your abc's, get some first aid training. That is unless you are the type that can step over a person who needs help. The most helpless feeling i think, is not the person laying on the ground, but the person standing beside them, not knowing what to do. don't let yourself get in either position.

pirate face redux.

I was just looking at my old blog and came across this story so i thought i'd put in here. It happened right around Christmas.

the other day my son got a couple stitches in his forehead, right on the inside edge of his right eyebrow. the cut is about an inch long and runs straight up and down. sort of. not to big you say, unless of course your 4 and your entire face is only about 5 or 6 inches from chin to hairline. probably more like 5, wait, i'll go measure...o.k. back again. have you ever tried to measure a sleeping kids face? in the dark? me neither....truthfully, not about to start....anyways, so lets say for the sake of the story that his face is 5.5 inches from chin to hairline, that's a happy medium.
(i totally just came to an agreement with myself....) anyways, usually when i have a disagreement with myself-i lose. well loooks like tonight i win...WTF> anyways, back to the story. .. . so we agree that the cut is an inch long running vertical. and i mean a GOOD inch, no exagerating. plus another cut on his cheek that's in line with the big good inch cut. So now he's got this pirate/bad guy movie scar on his face, the kind that is above the eye and below it. the kind you get from having an epic battle with swords and ropes. Great, my perfect boy is scarred. hmmmm now what? maybe i could give him away and try for another perfect child. hahahaha just kidding.(i actually happen to have a perfect daughter that i can fall back on if needed). i think the scar looks tough actually. And you know, if a four year old needs anything in this life, it's a tough looking pirate/movie scar on his face. seriously, if ever you wanted a pirate/scar on your face, this would be it. figures. it would take my offspring to start getting cool pirate/scars at such a young age. Hell, i did, i think i was about his age when i stabbed myself in the back ( i know...how the hell....) anyways, long story, neither here nor there. lets just say it involved a swingset and the first ever incident of "freestyle swinging". which happens to be the precurser to EVERY "extreme sport" ever invented. i know, i invented it. me and this other shady fellow who has the tendency to leave knuckle prints on steel surfaces..(once again, not exagerating). But we've never ever claimed ownership to anything "extreme". we're about the tamest people ever. The only extreme things about us are his dandruff, and my rapidly encroaching baldness. together were like an eagle in a snowstorm. the problem is , nobody believes us. whatever. anyways, back to the origional story. tonight we took out my son's stitches. Actually, HE took them out! i cut the stitches and he looked in the mirror and pulled them out himself. HE"S FRICKIN' FOUR YEARS OLD! What four year old takes out his own stitches? It was like i was watching a midget tom cruise or steven segal, but not. Anyways, the thing i'm gettting at here, is that my son is everything that i'd like to be. I'm so proud of him that i can't even express it. Don't get me wrong, I'm not in some delusional fatherhood state where i actually think my kid is the saviour of the world. and better than yours, but he is....If he graduates high school i'll be happy. In other words, i know that he's just your average kid, he's shy at times,, whiny occasionally, playful all the time, smartassed more than he really needs to be, and quite a handsome fellow if i do say so myself. i wouldn't want him to be anything else but a normal kid. so what if he counts like this 1,2,3,4,3,4,3,4,3,8...he'll figure it out. maybe. I laugh at these parents who have there kids in 18 different sports and they can play the Ride of the Valkeries" on the violin at age 3. Most of those kids are going to go off the deepend and end up selling bottlecaps at the nearest statefair, living in a old schoolbus with old vw vans welded to the roofs so they can stand up when they're cooking the hash and putting wax in their dreadlocks. If i've seen it once, i've seen it a 1000 times. Next thing you know is your tooth is missing and your daughters knocked up. But anyways, another time...I also laugh at his attempts to be funny, his latest is this, he comes up to you, pulls down his pants turns around and says "smell my bum"! then guts himself laughing. now what is funnier than a four year old trying to get someone to kneel down and smell his bum. It's comedy gold. But to his credit, he is very patient, and seems to understand the situation when it requires understanding. i.e. , like not letting his sister get to close to the rotweiller and pitbull cross mutt that i've been trying to breed with a horse. Yep, i want a dog that takes me to the park. or brings the park to me....anyways, . I know he has a breaking point, but he also has this uncanny, un-four year old knack of letting things roll off his back, (not literally), but, you know...nothing phases him. He'll go with the flow, he hardly ever complains , Except when his sister is playing with his trainset.Then the gloves are off. (once again...not literally) On the other hand, you can't get him to do anything, or go anywhere that he is convinced he doesn't want to go. he doesn't like dogs, and tells the owners that, straight up. the other night i took him to the movie "night at the mueseum" and it was a little intense for a little guy. He was trembling with fear like i'd never seen before and i thought he'd have a heartattack and implode. So we left, but all he was concerned about (other than dying) was the popcorn we left behind. He didn't cry, although at one point his lower lip balled up the way little kids lips do when they're faced with impending doom. I guess i learned a lesson there huh... i could go on all night, but that would probably result in me being arrested. I just wanted to give a midget shout out to my guy. My boy (and my daughter and wife-*disclaimer*) is/are my world. I could be shovelling shat for a living, (which i pretty much do) but as long as i come home to his smiling face and sparkling eyes and pirate/badguy movie scared face, i'm seriously the luckiest, richest guy alive. And let me end this by saying, I myself am Far from perfect,(not that far) but for some reason i've been enlightened to something. Although not a revelation, kinda like a realization born out of my own fears and experiences. anyways, Let me share it with you. For all you fast-paced lifestyle, successful, trendy, i'm making it in the world type alpha-dads, you better slow the f down and take a look at your kids. They need you more than a thousand crackheads or any phonecall or any "boys night", or project. Don't get me wrong, those things are important and shouldn't be ignored, but you never know what is just around the corner, life is weird that way, and before you know it, you'll be around the corner yourself, then what....boom

the great dilema.

I've been kinda looking around at different blogs and various sites are becoming usual visits. however, the one thing i am noticing is that these people are smart, theologically profound, funny, concerned about the plight of humanity, and i consider them to be good people. So it makes me wonder if i should put more time and thought into what i write, but all i can come up with is this; when i shave my neck, i never know where to stop. I mean, where the chest hair meets the neck hair, where do i stop? how far down do i shave? i can't figure it out....please help.

the tip of the iceberg.

Forget about 'global warming', here's something that demonstrates the way the world is really changing. the other day a co -worker was telling me about how his ex-wife caught their 15 year old soon looking at porn on the computer. The ex-wife wanted the dad to 'talk' to the son, chew him out, give him a hard time about it, embarrass him, blah, blah,blah. The dad's main concern however, was not that the kid was looking at porn, (because, in the dad's own words, at his age he was doing 'more' stuff with girls), but rather, that the son didn't infect the computer with any viruses.
Why do we ask "why, oh why!" is society so messed up? We all know the answer, we want it to be. because it justifies our own selfishness. Because it seems that the status quo dictates that morality is something that shouldn't be taught, but is something that should be stumbled upon, in accordance to what is convenient for the stumbler. If you want to, go ahead and establish your own code of ethics. If i tell someone that they did something they shouldn't have done, yet i have done the same thing in the past, telling them it was wrong is admitting i shouldn't have done it and can't do it anymore. and i can't do that because I'd have to change, and i don't want to. in other words, my convenience and selfishness is more important than doing what should be done in certain circumstances. which is teaching someone and directing them to have some morality and a sense of ethics that is above what society deems convenient. But then again, What defines one's morality? and don't even try to tell me to be accountable!
Yes, the the earth is doomed, but not because the icebergs are melting.

van of woe

i have this 85 vanagon, the picture is at the bottom. great van, been the best for the last 5 years. but all of a sudden in the last 2 months it was fallen to peices faster than the side of a mountian in the crowsnest pass. Here's a list since january. In order.tires needed to be replaced, metal bands broke on on side. tail pipe fell off, then muffler split in half. Gas pedal mount broke. clutch slave cylinder leak. Then clutch master cylinder. Then Brake master cylinder. then left side front brake caliper. while on the jack, the van slipped backwards, the drivers door was open and fell onto another car, my door destroyed the passenger door of the other car. no damage to the van door though... the insturment cluster doesn't work. the other day the van just died. no spark. probably the coil. plugs fouled. also need a new distributor, plugs and wires. At least! not sure what else. all this work has been fixed by myslef so far. and if your on the westcoast you know the type of winter we've had. And i've spent much of it under my van, in the dark, in the rain, snow and freezing cold trying to justify to myself the deal i'm getting by not having to pay outrageous insurance rates or a monthly car payment. Although it begining to seem like a nice comfortable alternative....

new post

I wanted to post something but can't think of anything. Well, i could, but better not, for the lack of time shackles me like a short leash restrains an elephant wearing a pretty pink tu-tu. But i read this quote today that i thought was interesting.
Excerpt taken from Yan Martell, "Life of Pi".

It's not atheists that get stuck in my craw, but agnostics. Doubt is useful for a while. We must all pass through the Garden of Gethsemane. If Christ played with doubt, so must we. If Christ spent an anguished night in prayer, if He burst out form the Cross, "my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?", then surely we are permitted to doubt. But we must move on*. To choose doubt as a philosophy of life is akin to choosing immobility as a means of transportation."

Now I've just started this book, which is evident because this quote is on page 31. But so far, it looks like a great book. He has a very interesting philosophy in regards to animals in the zoo vs. the wild.

Italics by yours truly.

mike vs. bike

Have you ever heard of Richard Cheese? He has a great version of 99 luft balloons. But my point is, it sure reminds me of a simpler time. A time When I was a child. An easy time, a happy time. A time when I could jump on my bike and go for a ride. And what a ride I had. It was my first bike. Yet, not quite a bike, more like a bicycle. There is a difference. A bicycle is a little bike, like a baby bike. Anyways. I had one. It was a while back. Actually it was thirty years ago....whoa. This is the story, a story, about my first love. Love found, love lost, love known once more, destiny, fate?

It was a C.C.M. Swinger. It was red, it had wrap around fenders, and wide cruiser handlebars (for a child). The best feature though was the crossbar. It was adjustable. It wasn't a tube like every other bicycle. It was rectangle. Sort of like a gas tank. And it had imprinted scallops and the word "Swinger" pinstriped on the sides. Picture an Indian Motorcycle turned into a kids bike. This was it. I loved it. If I could have snuck it past my parents at night in the trailer we lived in, I would have brought it to bed with me. But being trailer trash, there wasn't alot of room for sneaking of anything.

Like I said, I lived in a shady trailer-park for a year or so when i was a wee tyke. It was 1976, a different age. I had started kindergarten and had to travel about 2.5 km.s to school. However, you wouldn't see me climbing out a minivan in front of the school. No way. I was independent. I had a Bicycle. And that bicycle was my ticket to coolness. And I thought I was cool. I knew it. I had to take a collector route to get to school, a road that had a dotted passing line going down the center, it wasn't some neighborhood road. It had regular traffic. It was a road that no 5 year old should even be walking down. But like I said, this was a different time, and it didn't stop me from cruising down the middle of the road, weaving between the lines going as fast as I can, all the way to school.

The school I attended was the classic one room schoolhouse with the dozen or stairs out front leading up to the doubledoors. I would pull into the schoolyard, bypass the bike rack everytime and pull right up to the foot of the stairs and lean the Swinger right up against the stairs. Right in the middle, in everyone's way. I had 2 ways to dismount and I had these moves down to perfection. For the first one I would ride up to the stairs at full speed at a 45 degree angle, and just when I thought I'd crash I'd hit the footbrake and skid sideways right up to the stairs, jumping off the bike while simultaneously leaning it against the stairs. The other was smoother and used more frequently. I would ride up parallel to the bottom stair. I would brake gently so that by the time i reached the stairs i could set the bike down and hop off in a smooth eloquent dismount while the bike always came to rest against the bottom step. It was poetry in motion. I made sure it was in everyone's way so they'd have no choice but to admire it as they tried to climb the stairs when class started.

As the years went by and the miles piled on the bike, it (like any well used machine) started to show it's age. I had flipped the handlebars so they resembled the steering wheel of a b-52 bomber. I thought it suited my riding style and imagination better. I had also painted the crossbar with white latex paint. I don't know why. Eventually I moved into the world of b.m.x. and the last memories of the Swinger were of it being chopped into about 50 pieces, I though it would be fun to rebuild it. It wasn't that fun. It was the classic kid's way to send the bike into the afterlife.

Fast forward 30 years. I 've had many bike in that time, but I always thought back to the Swinger. I missed it. I'm a nostalgic type of guy so I always kept my eyes open for another. But to no avail. The closest I came was finding a frame, sans all moving parts and the coveted crossbar. Way to far gone. I had all but given up on my quest when one random day I happened to be visiting one of my favorite bike shops (Reverend cycles, Imperial, Burnaby...props....) and low and behold hanging on the wall inconspicuously behind some other bikes was a Swinger. A SWINGER, a C.C.M. , red, fully original, intact, wrap around fendered, wide kid cruiser bar Swinger. I was aghast. It even had the same B.C. Tel reflective stickers on the fenders that i had so many years ago. I had to have it! I asked the owner, he said it wasn't for sale. But after I told him my story he said "well, i have to sell it to you then!" He understood.

So for $80 bucks I was once again the owner of a Swinger. It now hangs on one of my walls.

It's to small for me to ride, but my son, he's 4 and it's waiting for him. He already has 3.

Currently, I have 5 bikes. I love bikes. I go to shops and spend hours looking at the bikes. They are art. Except the crappy ones, but I can appreciate them as well. I can't throw a bike away. No bike is junk. Some come close, but as long as it roles....However, I hate when bikes are used for political means, like critical mass rides. Bikes are meant to be for fun and transportation, and looking cool. I will always have a bike. One of my biggest regrets is selling a Santa Cruz Chameleon a year ago that I had painstakingly built up to be top of the line. But since I didn't have disc brakes I had to take a bath when I sold it. I don't even know why I sold it. I honestly can't remember. I think maybe to pay off my damn visa or something. Never again.

Now, as I listen to the Richard Cheese version of Coldplay's "yellow" I think i'll go a look at my bicycle hanging on the wall, I may even take it down and dust it off. I'll never sell it though, if anything, I'll find another bike to hang beside it.

the fun weekend.

well, after reading the first post i realized i was in a real foul mood. not so cool. whatever. things are different now, i can feel it. hahahaha, classic denial. If you don't know me then you'd probably think I'm a nut case, not so much, borderline at times. phases, everyone has em, this blog will expose me for what i am, the shape shifting mongrel that is me. But then again, there are those who do know me and think I'm a nutcase.
I hope that i can provide something interesting, we'll see. I'm not that political, so if you want to hear the great eloquence of a political scientist then forget about it, political ramblings are all heresy anyways. here today, gone tomorrow. Much like the social hot topics like global warming, the invasion of Iraq and the death of Anna Nicole. all three can be summed up in on sentence, you ready? bound to happen. And as far as philosophical diatribes about the origin of man and God...you've already made up your mind.

'so , enough about you, lets talk about me'....i love that line. I remember one time, me and 5 friends were driving home form a skateboarding weekend in another town. It was about 6 in the a.m. on a quiet summer Sunday morn. We were gripped in the lethargic euphoria that comes only after a great weekend of doing what one loves to do. But we were headed back to reality, we almost never made it back. On a straight road the driver fell asleep and smashed into a cement abutment near the entrance to a bridge. I was sleeping in the backseat when i was awoken with the sudden smashing sound of sick metal and glass fracturing and bending frames of chipping paint and shattering plastic. The violence of the collision threw me into the back of the seat in front then sideways into the door. We Hit the cement wall and then spun onto the bridge. Once on the bridge i saw that we were still travelling at a great rate of speed, and spinning and i saw that we were going to hit the railing, we did, then i saw blue sky. I thought we had crashed through the railing. If you were to throw a shopping cart off this bridge it would plummet about 150 feet before landing in a shallow river below. In fact, that is exactly what I thought we were doing. Fortunately i was mistaken. The car just sort of jumped up when it hit the railing and continued to spin wildly down the length of the bridge. It spun about 300 feet further down the bridge before coming to a stop in a steamy smokey heap across both lanes. Oil and radiator fluid seeping out in all directions like a jar of strawberry jam dropped from a fridge door. Or blood from a fatal gunshot wound. None of the doors would open, we climbed out the windows and stared in disbelief. The car had once been a source of so much fun and pride. It was a VW Jetta. Black with factory mags and sunroof. A turbocharged car that ran on diesel and had all the top o' the line features. Not bad for a 18 year old kid back in 1990. It was a great car. Now it was destroyed. No one was hurt aside form cuts and bruises. Nobody was wearing a seat belt except the two in the front. And the passenger had just put his on about a minute before the crash. No one else was on the bridge. Lucky them. So we waited for the cops to come get us and we waited more for one of our parents to come get us. We all fell asleep in the back of the truck we rode home in. Like nothing had happened. It was truly like a dream. You are woken up in a panic then eventually fall back asleep. However, even to this day 15 years later, every time I cross that bridge and see the drain basin that the car came to rest near and and spilled it's guts, all i can think is "that sure was a fun weekend".

the news of the day

Ok. so i went and looked at my old blog and figured i'd post the link to it. I think it's under onebigfathed, or something like that. It does have a couple good stories if i do say so myself.
In other news; Anna Nicole smith died today, sad. First it was Chris Farley, now her, what is this world coming too.

the tales ofUN

So what is, and what are, The Tales ofUN? Well, it's both. It's the Un and the fUN. Like a jeckell and hyde, or Abbott and Costello. Basically, it's me myself and I. I could call it the threeeofus. I could call it anything. I've almost called it a day on this whole thing. I'm not really one to do what everyone is doing. But it seems everyone is doing this, so i throw my hat in the ring. why not.
This blog comes out an unnecessary need to explain the unexplainable. Unfortunately i feel the need to do this. I don't really want to, i don't know how, and honestly, i couldn't care less. Then why you ask? i need to vent somewhere. I guess this is it. Therapy for the world to see. That is of course, if the world is looking. To those who do look; feel free to comment, insult, rebuke, rebuttal, receive, or just plain, revolt. Like i said, i don't care. It is also my attempt to be more vulnerable. More out there and more creative. I feel like a fish in a barrel sometimes. Just swimming around, waiting to get blasted. Maybe this will help me out. Like an online journal. I don't know. why does anyone do this? For friends to see? To be cool? to feel like i have an opinion that somehow might mean something. yeah, probably, if i can be so bold. However, as i get into this i do kinda enjoy it. and i like the fact that i have been able to track down some long ago friends who happen to have blogs as well. i think it's a great way to catch up and leave some dumb comment for them to get annoyed at.
This is my second attempt at having a blog. The first one got lost in the frustrating shuffle b/t the beta and the new version of blogger. The first was called onebigfathed@blogspot.com. or something to that nature. That's probably why i screwed it up. I can't remember for sure. I think it was, anyways, i became very frustrated one night and proceeded to delete the 'new format'. but in the process was and am still unable to access the old blogger. soooo, here i am. If i could get to the old blogger and delete that to, then i would. Then i could put this all behind me and call it a miserably failed experiment. But i can't, so i won't. So this is why i called this one what I called it. The tales ofUN is the ying and yang, the dichotomy of my existence. The expression of my unhappiness towards so many things around me. And as well, the good things that I love will also be represented here. Balance is the key to not falling off the fence. Of which I am a great sitter.

(edit note:) I just re read what I had written here when I started this and realized I was a bit of a psychopath. My original entry was fueled by outrage and disappointment. sadness and frustration. So i erased a bunch of this and am repaving the bumpy road with fresh ashpalt. So all the stuff above is fresh and new. If you have read what i originally wrote, then you'd know that I was miserable then, The comments came out of a need to get things off my chest. I'll be the first person to say that I'm kind of a headcase at times. So if i offended anyone, not so sorry, but i didn't want to hurt any one's feelings. If i did, then sorry. I need to learn some conflict resolution i suppose. I guess i didn't have to erase it, but i thought i would because i'm over it now. The issue has passed. I dealt with it and therefore didn't need to be reminded anymore. It's not that I don't want to be able to vent or be angry and write about it, but I felt i was a little over the top. unnecessary, if you will. Some people know me, maybe this will show them a different side of me. We'll see how it works out. btw, if you know me personally and see me on the street or somewhere and want to challenge me on something i've written, then please do, i welcome the chance to see what is what. And like I said before, leave a comment, whatever, have fUN.
Good night now.