Click Here and READ THIS
sigh
OK. it's official. Men are now obsolete. Of course if they invented this for men, everyone would say it was disgusting. But since it's for women it's ok.
I think in order to give men some sembalance of self respect they should give us a remote control for it. (WE love remote controls) Of course knowing how simple minded we men are we'd probably confuse it for the TV remote during the big Thankgiving Dinner and make a big scene in front of company while the wife's in the kitchen cooking dinner.

SAD FACT About ME 5

Whenever I say something like, "It was the least I could do". I'm telling the truth. It was the very least I could do.

Jerkface

All hero's must have a villain. A foe to test their mettle against. For most of my life I thought it to be Rose. For most of my life I was right.
But in the summer of 1982 I found that my enemy lived across the lake from me.
To recap for anyone just tuning in for the first time, from 1979 to 1984 my parents managed a private park that was around 500 acres large. A vast part of it was woodland that only I and a few friends seemed interested in gong into to. The lake was 5 miles long with my park having access to about half. The other half was owned by a few various people that wanted us to have no part of it. For some unknown reason until 1982 I was never really interested on what was on the other side of my lake.
Then in early summer of 1982 when I was 17, I started noticing that a few campers and trailers were driving by our entrance down the dead end road that ran by my park. I asked my Mom about.
"Oh, they're probably going to the other park."
I blinked. That couldn't be right.
"What", I said smiling.
"The other park. The one behind the locked gate down the road."
I was stunned. There was another park. On the other side of MY lake? It's hard to explain but I took great offense at this. How could there be another park?
Could there be another me? Some twisted version of me that was under the mistaken idea that the lake was his? I walked outside and stood by the shore of my beach, staring at the water.
I was going to have to pay this pretender a visit.
A few days later Mark came out to camp with me in the back of the park. As we were setting up the tent I told him about the other park. He was also curious about it and wanted to check it out. ( For some reason he wasn't upset that there might be another me. " God wouldn't do that to the world", he said.
We vowed to check it out that night.
Later while we were swimming a couple of other friends stopped by. (Well maybe only one friend. While at the time Steve Swan was my friend, the other boy Kenny was more well a weirdo. If Steve was Jabba the Hutt, Kenny would be the little guy laughing on his tail. We tolerated Kenny because Steve was around.) We told Steve and Kenny about the other Park and our plan. They wanted to tag along.
After a little thought I told them ok. They went home and grabbed some camping stuff and soon we were waiting for dark to begin our adventure. When the sun set we left the swimming area and went back to our campsite. As we passed my house my Dad told me grumpily not to start any trouble back in the camping area. (Dad lived under the fear that I was going to impregnate every girl from the age of 15 to 18 that came out there.)
We got back to the campsite just in time to watch the last bit of daylight vanish over the lake. As always we had a good spot. It was high over a hill looking over the main body of the lake. From there we plotted our plan.
Around midnight we grabbed a couple of canoes from the boat area. The one I was in was called "The Battleship Canoe", by myself and friends. No one knew who owned it. We had found it a couple of years earlier in the back of the park where it looked like it hadn't been moved in years. We called it the Battleship Canoe because it was made of thick heavy green steel. It weighed at least three times as much as the canoe that Mark and Steve had...borrowed for themselves.
As we silently made our way across the lake we began to notice a bright light over across the other side of the lake. We couldn't tell exactly where it came from because it was hid from our view by hills and trees. It was clear it was coming from the side of the lake we didn't control.
We parked our canoes on the furthermost edge of our property. I wanted to stay on our side for as long as we could until we were able to scope out the situation better. We crept up a hill overlooking where the light came from. From the other side we could make out more of the lake. Mark and Steve were ahead of me and Kenny was behind me. Mark had moved a thorn branch out of his way as he moved by it. When he let it go it snapped right into my crotch.
"AHHHH!" I screamed in pain.
Immediately a blinding light shone on me. I raised my arm a bit to shield my eyes. From where we were I was the only one visible to whoever was shining this incredibly bright light. Mark and Steve were still hidden in the undergrowth and Kenny was behind me hidden from view.
"What are you doing here", the voice of a man said from behind the light. From the sounds of things he was sitting in a boat. He must have been fishing close to shore.
"I'm just out exploring", I said mildly.
" Get back to your own side of the lake!"
Though my half closed eyes I could plainly see the fence that separated the two side of this lake not 15 in front of me.
" I'm still on my side of the lake. The fence is in front of me."
I heard a click. " I 've got a shotgun here that says you're on my side of the lake."
If my life has taught me anything it taught never to argue with anyone that had a shotgun.
"Ok, ok I'm leaving." I backed down the hill and the light suddenly turned off. With the light gone I was now blind as bat. I tripped and fell down the rest of the hill. Kenny was already sitting in the canoe. Mark made his way back down to me. Steve stayed where he was watching the man with the blinding light move his boat away from where it was.
Still laying on the ground waiting for my eyes to adjust I said, "Kenny row away from here in the Battleship. Make as much noise as humanly possible. Let that jerk here you. Then very quietly row back."
"Shouldn't we just get out of here?" Kenny was always a little coward.
"Just do it Kenny", Mark said.
With a cold feeling in my heart I thought to myself, "No one does that to me on my land."
After a few minutes my eyes adjusted and I could see well in the dark was again. I sat up. Behind me I could hear Kenny leaving us. Steve finally made his way down from the hill.
"He's gone", Steve said. "What are we going to do?"
"We wait for him to go to bed. Then we do what we came here to do."
Once again we made our way up that little hill. This time we were more quiet. Once up there we just sat there watching the other man's boat in the water. Occasionally his light would shine out on the water. After a little more then an hour he moved towards land again. He docked his boat out of sight from where we were. We waited another half hour. Finally when it seemed long enough we crept towards the fence. We knew that behind it lay enemy territory.
We made our way past it. Mark and Steve moved away from me and Kenny. In the dark Kenny became more and more nervous.
"Shouldn't we just go back? What if we get caught?" His whining was really beginning to annoy me. Maybe I could kill him and make it look like the guy in the boat did it?
Soon I moved into a clearing. In front of me lay the other park. I almost laughed out loud. This was my enemy? This was the other park I was worried about?
It was made up of 7 or 8 Campers loosely parked around one another. There was no swimming area. There was nothing. Feeling much better I moved off to find the boat my foe had been in early that night. Mark and Steve had already found this place. They were busy doing little things to annoy these would be campers.
Mark and Steve would take a picnic table loaded with items from in front of one camper and move it to another camper. I'm fairly sure no one woke up with the picnic table or supplies they went to bed with. They did likewise with anything in front of the campers. For example if there was shoes or fishing poles outside a camper, they were moved to another camper.
By the shore of the lake I found the boat. Clamped on a little pole was his movable light. The light bulb was immense perhaps 12 inches across. I unscrewed it and held it in my hand. It was mine. All mine. My trophy.
My precious.
I put the light down for a second and with an angry push shoved his boat into the water. It drifted out towards the middle of the lake.
I walked over to Mark and Steve. (Kenny had just stood there the entire time doing nothing. I swear the boy was part French) "You guys done?"
"Unless we're going to set fire to this place we've done all we can do."
I held up my trophy. "I've got what I came for. Let's go"
We made our way away from this "park" and back across the fence. Soon we were in the canoes moving towards our own camping area. Once we safely away and in sight of my own park I stood up holding the light in my hand and with a loud cry shouted out, "LETS SEE YOU SHINE YOUR LIGHT ON ME NOW JERKFACE !!! "
As I sat down I put the heavy light behind me. Before I knew what the little greasy creep behind me was doing Kenny grabbed the light and threw it in the water. It hit the water and sank from view.
"What the hell are you doing?" I was livid.
He looked at me with a frightened face. "I was getting rid of the evidence."
"That was my trophy!"
Resisting my urge to kill him and dump his body in my lake (I was afraid he'd kill the fish) we rowed back to our campsite. By the time we made it back my spirits were high once again. We spent the night laughing at what we had done.
Steve and Kenny left early the next day. Mark and I stayed at the campsite for another day leaving only when I almost accidentally killed the nice elderly couple camping across the road from us. ( that's another blog)
A few days later while I was in my living room I heard a man come into the office and start talking to my Mom in an angry voice. It took me a second to realize where I'd heard that voice before.
It was Jerkface. He was telling Mom everything that happened. I knew my Mom would put two and two together and know it was me and my friends. As Jerkface rambled on It hit me. He was mistaken o the night it happened. He was telling Mom it happened the night before it really did.
I was off the hook. Mom never suspected me. In fact she asked me to look into it.
A few nights later while looking into it I took a canoe and rowed back over to Jerkface's park. I went over to his boat. He had bought a new lightbulb. I smiled to myself. This made what I had come to do all the better.
The next morning when Jerkface went fishing he found his light gone.
But sitting in his boat was his new lightbulb.
And thus began the war between Jerkface and myself. It would wage another two years, ending only when my parents moved away from the park.

Sorry about not posting. My brother Geno's wife was taken ill. I'm not ....Close to the woman but my family is still upset with it especially since it comes 5 years since Steve's death.
Janice has lived a sad life and will in all probability die a sad death. It's sad to see someone do this to themselves. But you have realize that in the end it's their choice. You can't live other peoples life's for them.
Anyway I'll post something funny later today or tomorrow.

Just as I sat down this morning to write my post I received some troubling news. So I may be busy for a while. Sounds like it's going to be a long week. Anyway I'll try to post later today.

Steve and Geno go on a Road Trip

In the summer of 1980 my brother John got married to a young woman named Peggy. Everyone was mostly happy at the event except for Steve who kept telling anyone who would listen that, "She's just not any good." Steve would not back down that this was a mistake. ( he was right. The marriage ended 5 years later.)
Steve wasn't in a good mood that summer to begin with because he was unemployed. 1980 was a bad time for this area. Many lay offs and factory closings plagued our part of Illinois. Many people were leaving for other parts of the county. Both Steve and Geno found themselves without jobs and plenty of time on their hands.
My Dad on the other hand was very busy with work . Dad had changed remarkably over the last 5 years. He was now a pillar of our community, working with law enforcement and lawmakers to get his message out to the community. Dad seemed to thrive on what he was doing. We also found out the Dad was a great public speaker. One of the tools Dad used when he gave speeches was his Big Board.



The Big Board was a four folded board with displays in it of confiscated drugs and drug paraphernalia. This way Dad could show what drugs had seeped into our community and what they looked like. Dad had speeches and fundraisers every few days or so. When he wasn't doing that he was in his office, working as an alcohol and drug counselor, doing his best to help whoever walked in. It seemed as if Dad was happy for the first time in my memory. (Again this didn't make him warm and fuzzy. Just a happier scary guy)
The only thing standing in the way of my happiness was that my brother Geno was spending to much time at home. Living at the private park my Mom was running gave Geno no incentive whatsoever to go get a job. He spent his days laying on the beach or swimming in the water looking at all the girls in bathing suits.
This interfered with me laying on the beach and watching the girls in bathing suits. Geno would make such a fool of himself that I was embarrassed to even go out there. A few times we would get into loud yelling matches . If I was in the water he would get out and yell at me. (Even then the water was my territory. Only a fool would pick a fight with me there.) Geno would scream at me to get out of the water and fight him like a man. I would get out and we would fight. Our fights would be broken up very fast but the tension was getting worse between us. It didn't help of course when I would taunt Geno.
" Little Jerk!", Geno would yell at me.
" Well at least I don't go running into the water every time we get into a fight."
One time I caught Geno in the deeper part of the swimming area. He saw me and tried to swim for shore. I would almost let Geno get to shallow water when I'd grab him by the leg and pull him back out to deeper water. I kept this up for almost half an hour. By the time I was finished Geno was screaming. Mom and Dad yelled at me to stop it.
Geno hit me that night. I lay on the floor and laughed at him. It just made him more angry. Before he could do anymore Dad came out of his bedroom and broke it up. Dad was so mad at Geno he told him that the next day he was looking for a job whether he liked it or not.
Dad woke Geno up at 7 in the morning. He told Geno to put on some decent clothes and shave. He wanted him to look as nice as possible when he asked for applications. Dad had the day off and told Geno he could take the car. Dad even gave Geno some money for lunch and gas. Dad told Geno to be back home by 3.
I was happy. Even if he didn't get a job he'd be gone for at least a day. Before Geno left Mom pulled him aside and gave him some "extra" money just in case he needed it.
This was all a huge mistake.
Geno drove the 13 miles to Kewanee and didn't bother to look for one job. He stopped by Steve's to complain how bad his life was. (And what a bastard I was) Steve offered Geno a beer and they began to talk about how much life sucked in Kewanee and the surrounding area. Soon Steve ran out of beer. Geno remembered the extra money Mom gave him and they went out and bought more.
My two oldest brothers went to a local park to drink the new the beer. The more they talked the more the subject came up of how much life would be better some where else. (Anywhere where I wasn't there would be good for Geno) Steve wanted to have a better job to provide more for his wife Kathy and 4 year old son Kris. Geno just wanted to get away.
Soon the "extra money Mom gave Geno was gone, as well as the lunch and gas money. Steve and Geno had worked themselves up into a drunken idea that they'd go and find a better life "somewhere" else. The problem was that all they had was a full tank of gas. This wasn't going to get them far.
At this time John was gone on his honeymoon with Peggy. They weren't due back for another 4 days. Geno and Steve, in their drunken believe that it was their destiny to find a better life somewhere else, drove over to John's house. Geno found John's 1978 silver firebird in the garage. It was locked, but the sunroof was cracked open.
I've said before that Geno is a little scrawny fellow. So bear that in mind when I tell you that he somehow squeezed though the open sunroof and into the car, like some drunken snake. He opened the glove box and found a checkbook.
Steve and Geno then drove to a local bar and with the checkbook bought 2 cases of beer. They also wrote the check out for 50 dollars extra. In their minds this surely was enough to get them to where they wanted to go.
The problem was they didn't know where they should go.
Then Steve had an epiphany. They would go ask their Uncle Kenny. Kenny was a kindred spirit, only a few years older then Steve. Kenny would know what to do.
Problem was Kenny lived in Milan, Missouri. Milan was good 3 and half hours away. So they turned the car south and began their little odyssey. The further and further away from home they got the happier Geno got. They were like a couple of real life Cheech and Chong's. Except all they had was beer.
At about the time that Dad was expecting Geno to come home, Steve and Geno were pulling into Kenny's driveway. Kenny was happy to see them and their beer. Steve and Geno shared their dream of a better life with Kenny. Kenny was thrilled. He knew exactly where to go.
The promised land was Texas. "That's where all the jobs are now", Kenny told them.
With Kenny helping to drink it down, the remaining beer didn't last long. They resolved to get some more on the way out of town. By the time it was dark Kenny was ready to leave Milan for good with my brothers.
As they were getting ready to leave, it was at this point for some reason that Geno opened Dad's trunk.
And there shining brightly in the moonlight like some holy grail was Dad's Big Board. A veritable smorgasbord of mind altering drugs had been in their trunk the entire time. Almost one third of Dad's board was devoted to various types of pot. In the board there was also a one hitter and a bong.
Geno and Kenny shared some of the other types of drugs while Steve stuck to that old reliable standby of marijuana. Soon Kenny was passed out dead to the world.
Sometime after 10 in the evening Geno and Steve pulled out of Kenny's driveway towards the shangri-la of Texas. It was half an hour after they left that they remembered they had left Kenny behind. The thought of turning around and going back to get him was never even discussed. Cheerfully they drove on.
After mignight I saw Dad just sitting in his chair. His eyes stared straight ahead. The anger vibrating off of him was so intense I wasn't going to leave my room for the restroom until after he went to bed.
It was around 1 in the morning that reality and lack of money began to hit my brothers.
"We've got to go home", Steve said. "I never told Kathy where I was going. Oh man what are we doing?"
"Dad's going to kill us", Geno said gloomily.
Realizing they had no choice they turned the car around and headed back towards home. Reality hit them even harder when they came to the understanding that they didn't have enough money to make it back home. So at some out of the way 24 hour gas station Geno sold my Dad's CB radio for a tank of gas and 10 dollars. Hopefully that would get them back home they thought.
At 5 in the morning I woke up and peeked out my door. Dad was still sitting in his chair. His eyes blazed with fury. I'd wait a little more before I went to the restroom I thought. I laid back down in bed.
It was a little after 6 when our phone rang. I heard Dad pick it up. When he hung up I heard him say to my mother, "Steve's back home. He's on his way here."
Geno stumbled in the door at around 6.45 in the morning. He was hung over and tired. Two seconds after he came in the door my Dad descended on him like a swarm of locust. I had never ever heard my Dad so angry. It didn't even sound like he was speaking words, just loud scary angry noises. I swear to God it seemed as if the walls shook from his fury. Dad yelled until he had to get ready to go to work. While he got dressed Mom yelled at Geno.(This was shocking onto itself. Mom was so mild mannered usually that she almost never raised her voice.) When Dad was finished getting ready he yelled some more. People who were camping down the road told me they could hear every sound Dad made. Many were frightened.
Finally around 7.30 Dad threw my door open.
"Get Up! NOW!" I jumped out of my bed like it was on fire. Dad grabbed me by the shoulder and tossed me into HIS chair. "Stay there!" Dad walked over to the side door and opened it. From my spot in Dad's chair I had a view of the vast picnic area next to our house. I could see Geno out there walking back and forth mowing the grass.
He was using the push mower that Dad had used for punishment back in Cambridge.
Clack Clack Clack.
I could hear the mower from where I sat. Geno looked like the living dead. He actually appeared to be a shade of green I'd never seen before in nature.
"You watch him! If he stops before I come back home I want to know!" Dad stormed away. I usually loved it when Geno got into hot water but this was getting just too scary. Dad walked out to his car and stopped in shock. His car which had been gleaming clean the previous day was now covered in dust, mud and a little road tar. His CB radio was gone and the back seat was filled up with beer cans. Dad opened the door and was greeted with the smell of vomit. (Geno said he threw up from too much beer and whatever. Steve later joked that Geno was so scared of what would happen to him when he went home he vomited.) Dad told me he was so angry when he saw his car he was afraid he'd kill Geno. So he got into his car and drove back to his office. It was after he got there he found out what happened to his Big Board.
Back at home I continued to watch Geno.
Clack Clack Clack.
Geno would walk from one end of the huge yard area to another. This was more then a football field in length. When he was at extreme ends of the yard I couldn't see him. But I could still hear him.
Clack Clack Clack.
The day got brighter and hotter. Geno turned more green.
Clack Clack Clack.
Back and forth he went. Mom served me breakfast in Dad's chair. Her usual smile was gone.
Clack Clack Clack.
Geno walked out of view.
Clack Clack..........................
Silence. I sat there not sure what to do. Maybe he was just taking a break. At first I thought, "I'll let him. He looks really bad." But then I remembered Dad's wrath and got out of my chair. I'd better see what he's doing, I thought. Outside I walked over to the end of our picnic area.
No Geno. I looked around. I saw his trail on the ground from where he had mowed. I followed it to the road. There about a quarter of a mile down the road I saw Geno walking. He still had the mower. Not sure what to do I followed him. When Geno got to the railroad tracks he parked the mower on it and following the tracks began to walk to the small town of Annawan a mile away. When I got to the tracks I was only about 300 feet or so from Geno.
I shouted his name. He just kept walking. I stood there unsure of what to do next. Finally I shouted out, ''You're gonna get it now!" Geno kept walking but he held up his hand and gave me the finger without once looking my way.
I turned to run back to the house. The mower remained on the tracks. Hopefully a train would come by and destroy it before I ended up having to use it.
I called Dad at his office to tell him that Geno had split. Dad was gone. He was dealing with Steve. Kathy was very angry with Steve as well. With both Kathy and Dad against him Steve agreed to go into rehab.
Dad later called the police and told them someone had broke into his car and stolen the Big Board. He had me wash and clean the car that night.
What's funny is that Geno got what he wanted. He would end up far away from home.
When John got back from his honeymoon and found out what Geno had done. John went into a rage. He hunted Geno down at a friends house. He gave Geno a choice. Geno could join the military for no less then four years or John would press charges. So around a week after all this happened Geno enlisted in the navy.
6 months later he was on a ship halfway around the world. Almost as literally as far away from me as he could be.




When I once asked Steve about this he frowned when he told me how mad Kathy was at him over it. He said it was just a stupid day that got out of hand.
But he smiled from ear to ear when he talked about how Geno kept crying on the way home, "He's going to kill us Steve. He's going to kill us."

Very sick right now. I'll post the next Steve blog later today or perhaps early tomorrow.

The Truth Is Out There
Steve said strange things. Weird things. Things that other people might take as sheer lunacy.
For example one night he stopped by drunk as I'd ever seen him. Actually when I said night I should have said morning. Like 1 in the morning. Luckily Angie and I were still up. He just wanted to stop by and say, "Hi".
In the course of him saying hello he somehow started rambling on about space travel. Steve desperately wanted to believe in UFO's and such. He thought that Aliens would have the answers that would help mankind out of our problems.
Or at the very least they would have some really good dope.
To say that Angie and I were taken aback at Steve stopping by at 1 in the morning and talking about UFO's would be a understatement. But it was nothing compared to how we felt when he said that he had some "High Technology friends" building a spaceship in their garage.
I believe my reply was something like, "Steve what the heck are you drinking?"
"No", he said dead seriously. "I have people building a starship and when it goes I'm going on it."
(Remember this is the man who eyed his lawn gnomes with suspicion every morning)
Luckily Steve was not driving that night. His good son Kris was driving his Dad around that night so he'd be safe.
Another time Steve stopped by the convenience store I worked at and chatted with me as I closed up. He pointed across the road at the 24 hours restaurant and old motel.
"You know that some Mob guy runs a whore house out of there. If you say the password they'll let you in."
"Steve", I said. "There's only 800 people in this town. There's not enough work for one whore let alone a house of them."
Steve was insistent. There was a brothel being run out of that place. It was mainly used for people coming off the interstate.
I asked around. No one knew at all what I was talking about. I chalked it up to Steve being again drunk off his ass. He never made a lot of sense when he was really drunk.
Another time, about 5 years after Grandpa Leo died Steve started calling all of us and saying he saw Grandpa. Steve said he had been kind of depressed and Grandpa Leo came to him. It was when he was watching America's Funniest Home Video's. Steve thought it was a miracle. We all thought Steve was drunk or just nuts.
Like I said Steve was a character.
But he was also right.
A friend of Steve's wife had taped that episode for some unknown reason. Kathy found out and asked if she could watch it to see what Steve was talking about.
And lo and behold there was my Grandpa, dancing in the background at some country dance without his shirt on. I felt horrible for doubting my big brother.
A little later I also found out that years ago there had been a brothel being run out of the motel Steve had mentioned to me. The state cops had shut the place down. Some guy with an Italian last name was behind it.
Again I felt bad. Steve had said there was a Whore House and there was a Whore House. I didn't laugh in his face when he told me but I came close. I felt very very bad.
Again I apologized to my brother.
Steve was wiser and smarter then we gave him credit for at times. Even when he'd say the outlandish things he said he always had a grin on his face, like it was all some big joke, but only he knew the whole answer.
Which leads me to his friends building a spaceship in their garage.
I still make jokes about it. I still laugh at the whole "High Technology friends" thing.
But whenever I hear a loud noise in this town I always stop and look around just on the off chance that somewhere a spaceship is lifting off from Kewanee Illinois.

Question
So What is the weirdest most ridiculous thing that someone told you that turned out to be true? And did you admit you were wrong when you found out? Or did you believe it right off the bat?

Das Boot
From February 15, 1979 until September 15, 1984 I was a Prince.
Not in reality but in thought. You see the entire time that my parents ran the private park I had a whole King Arthur thing going on in my mind. The line from the movie Excalibur, "You and the land are one", really meant a lot more to me then your average guy. I was even a little arrogant towards some people. One kid a couple years older then me told me one day( as I was kicking him out of the park),"You just think you something because you're here. If you're out there you're no one!"
"That's right Lonnie", I replied." But at least I'll always know that somewhere I was someone. You'll have to carry around that fact that everywhere you're nothing for the rest of your life."
Like I said . Arrogant.
But it all came to end in the early fall of 1984 when my parents left the park. And suddenly I went from a little prince to some guy living in a small three room house with his parents and older brother and sister.
And yet amazingly I took my arrogance with me. (But that's another blog or 20)
We also took my Dad's aluminum fishing boat. It was a long boat maybe 10 feet or so. It was pointed I the front and flat in the stern. Dad had named it the Gena after his granddaughter. While we were moving, it was sitting in our new backyard. One day before we were completely finished moving Dad made one of his snap decisions that never seemed to work out well.
He told me to put it in the basement. Like most things Dad told me I didn't argue. I just tried to do what he asked. My best friends Mark and George were over so I had them help.
We opened the outside basement door ( no way it was going in the front.) and tried to shove it down the stairs. We found to our dismay that it was just a little too wide and a few feet too long to go down the stairs. The bow of the boat hit the basement floor while at least two and half feet were sticking straight up in the air.
I walked over to the garage to tell Dad it wasn't going to fit.
Dad simply glared at me and said,"Make it fit."
I went back to Mark and George and told them, "No go. He wants it in."
So we tried to figure out how to accomplish this task. Mark went into the basement from inside the house and tried to lift the bow of the boat while George and I pushed. Hoping that maybe we could get it in that way. It went in maybe another few inches ,but that was it. After 15 or 20 minutes of that I went back to Dad. I pointed my thumb behind me and said, "I really don't think it's going in."
"Make It Fit." He looked really angry. Which meant that he was my Dad.
Back at the boat we tried again. Mark again tried to lift the bow as much as he could. Instead of pushing on the boat George and I commenced to jump up and down on it. After a while Mark came up and jumped with us.
The boat wedged in even tighter. I went down to the basement and helped Mark lift again while George jumped up and down some more on the boat. After close to half an hour more we were drenched in sweat. I went back up to Dad. He just glared at me very hard before I could say anything.
(I know this is going to sound odd but it was almost as if he thought he were purposefully trying to make it harder then we needed it to be.)
"Don't make me come out there! Just get it in!" He almost snarled at me.
I went back to the backyard. George was still bouncing up and down on the boat. Before I could tell George what Dad said the boat suddenly shot into the basement. George gave a little yell and went with it. The three of all laughed at our feat.
After we stopped laughing we stared at the boat. Then we stared back at the stairs to the yard. It was George who said what we were all thinking.
"That boat is never going back up those stairs."
I went back to the garage were my Dad was and said,"We got it in. But if you want it back out get someone else."
For the next few months the boat sat we left it. Everytime a relative or friend would come over we'd show them the basement and the boat. When my Uncle Ronnie saw it he laughed and said,"What did you do? Build the house around the boat?"
In late December of that year my Dad's stepmother passed away. This left his father in a nursing home with no close relatives around. Dad decided we would move Leo in and take care of him ourselves.
But we would need a much larger house.
So one late December morning Dad woke me up. It was barely 7.30 in the morning.
"I found a new house big enough for what we need."
"That's good Dad." I yawned still half asleep.
"You want to see it?"
"Sure Dad. Let me get dressed."
Before I could move Dad tossed a set of keys on my bed and a piece of paper. "There's the address. The moving van's outside. I want us completely moved by time I get home from work."
For any other family that would be impossible. But not my family. We called over friends and other family members. Mark helped. Steve came over and did his part. We hid Geno's bong and told him he'd get it back in the new house.
By 5 that evening we had completely moved. We even took all our trash. There was no evidence we had lived in that house that morning.
Except for a 10 foot aluminum fishing boat.
Mark and I made a very half assed attempt to get it out so we could say we tried. After that I left it up to my three brothers. All of them decided if I could get it in there they could get it out. By the end of that first evening they all had fresh bruises to show for their efforts but there was no boat in our new home.
John gave up sometime the following day. "It's never coming out" he said with disgust. Even Dad was discouraged. "Why'd you put it down there to begin with", he would yell at me.
Steve spent the next two weeks trying to get that boat out of there. I would drive by sometimes in the middle of the night and I'd see him there in the empty house, trying in vain to get that boat out. When I checked on him on one late night I found out he had destroyed the stairs in an attempt to move the boat out of there. When I walked down the inside stairs I could hear Steve cussing up a storm. ( I can't repeat his cuss words hear but it involved monkey love.) Against my better judgment I gave him a hand for a while.
What's really funny is Steve really couldn't have cared less about that boat. But when he obsessed about something he just couldn't let it go. Steve thought if the boat got down there it could get back out. It was that simple. And it drove him nuts.
It all climaxed one afternoon when Steve got a truck from a friend. He drove it though the alleyway behind the house and parked it in our old backyard. He got out with a chain and attached it to the back of the truck. The other end was attached to the boat. Steve got in the truck and revved the engine up. Then he squealed the tires and pulled away as fast as he could.
The result was a damaged truck, a broken chain, and a large bump on Steve's forehead. The boat was now lodged in tight. In the end it was shoved back down the broken stairway. Dad never went out in a boat fishing again.
A few weeks later I was driving around with my current girlfriend on a late Saturday night. We wanted to be alone and I thought the old house was perfect. The next day Dad was having the stairs to the basement replaced and was putting it up for sale. But for now it was empty. I pulled into the garage and shut the garage door so no one could see us. We went into the house and started to make out.
My girlfriend Sue was a little nervous. "You sure no ones going to see us in here?"
"No baby we're fine. The house is empty. As long as we don't turn the lights on, no one will know we are here."
"It's just like a horror movie", she said. We started kissing again.
WHOOMP!
BANG!
It felt like the whole house was shaking. Sue started screaming. She grabbed her coat and ran back to my car. The noises were coming from the basement. I knew before I went down there what I'd find. Steve was down there making one last attempt to get that boat out of there. I looked out the back window and saw his car in the alleyway. The basement door was open and I could see Geno and Steve with a rope pulling on the boat. They both appeared to be very drunk.
And very determined.
But in the end it was all in vain. The next day when the guys Dad hired showed up to replace the stairs they found a very dented boat still sitting in the basement. They expressed wonder how that boat got down there.
If you ever come to Kewanee drive by Grace Avenue. There is a small little white house with a large garage. On the side of the house there are sliding glass doors into the kitchen. Stop by and ask the people who live there if you can check out the basement. There, sitting in the dark for 19 years sits my Dad's boat. He painted the words Gena on it. I put the boat down there.
The many dents are courtesy of Steve.

Question for the day
Almost forgot my Tuesday question.
So do you also get a rush from speeding, or are you the type who always obeys the speed limit. Before you read whatever Mark puts down here remember he set a state record in Oklahoma for crossing the state. It made my little trip with Steve seem like a slow leisurely drive. If we went below 100 at any point that night I'd be very surprised.
When Angie was pregnant with Isaac we test drove a used cop car for sale. I could feel the power in that motor. I pulled over and smiled at my wife. "This", I said , " Is the car I want to drive you to the hospital when you go into labor."
And yet as much love as I have for all the fast cars in and around my life there is a special spot in it for a little orange box that Mark drove in the summer of 1985. It could do barely 55 and always seemed to have the heat blowing. Yet it did have personality.
Anyway the question; Speed Demon or half blind little old lady going to church on Sunday. Which are you?

The Need For Speed





In 1976 my Dad bought a 1966 Ford Mustang from a next door neighbor. It was red with a beautiful white top. Dad had a thing for red cars and he fell in love with this one from the beginning.( To find out this car's eventual fate read my blog of August 27 2003. )I couldn't wait to ride in it. The only problem was that it didn't work well. It would sputter and stop after just a few moments. Many times we ended up pushing it back into the garage.
Finally Dad called Steve over to look at it. Steve loved working on cars almost as much as did playing the guitar.
It was a nice early summer day when Steve came over. Dad said he'd be back home after lunch to see how Steve was doing. Dad left with Steve working on the car, and me and Geno watching him. All Steve really did was change the spark plugs and oil. He backed the car out of the garage and said, "Lets go blow the cob webs out of her." I jumped into the passenger seat, and Geno happily sat in the back.
Steve slowly drove though the alley way and into the street. By the time we reached Main Street he was putting the top down. I had never rode in a convertible before and found this to be the coolest thing ever. We headed north though town passing the main section of town, fully decorated with flags waving in the breeze for the bicentennial.
The only defect in the car was hole in the floorboard under the passenger seat. I found it amazing to look down and watch the road move under the car.
By the time Steve left Kewanee heading north towards Annawan he was doing 60 miles an hour. The wind was whipping though the car. Geno actually sat up on the folded down top, his feet on the seat.
Less then a mile out of town Steve was doing 70. Steve's long dark hair was blowing around, a smile starting to make it's way on his face. It was getting harder to hear the radio. Steve just turned it up louder.
Steve's foot pressed down more. By the time we reached a large straightaway Steve was pushing past 80 miles an hour. I looked down at the hole in the floorboard. The ground was moving so fast it made me dizzy. Behind me Geno spread his arms out and was screaming,"Faster!"
When Steve went past 90 Geno found that he had to sit down in his seat or he was going to be blown off the back of the car. I looked at Steve. His hair was now blowing straight back, a look of pure enjoyment on his face.
Making sure my feet were away from the hole I grabbed the top of the windshield and slowly pulled my up, until my head was above it. The wind was incredible. I could only stand it for a few seconds. As I sat down back in my seat Steve let out a yell.
I looked over at him. We were now doing over a hundred miles an hour. I had never Steve so happy. Even Geno let out a whoop.
Annawan came up on faster then I would have thought possible. Steve slowed down to the incredibly slow speed of 65 miles an hour. Once we reduced our speed I heard a strange sound. A thumping noise. It took me only a second to realize it was my heart.
Steve turned the car around and we sped of towards Kewanee. If anything he drove faster. Steve didn't even slow down for the large s curve before town. Once in town it seemed like we were going so slow it was like we were almost crawling.
Steve parked it outside the garage. He sat back in his seat and just kept smiling. Finally he said,"Let it cool down and I'll check it over again real quick." Steve had me run into the house and grab some Pepsi. After we were done drinking them Steve opened the hood and started giving the engine another quick check over.
While he was doing that Dad came home for lunch. He walked over to the garage and asked Steve,"How's it coming."
Steve looked at Dad and said,"Almost done. Another hour or two and she'll be ready to go for a test spin."
Dad looked at his red car, then back at Steve. He ran his hand though his short dark hair. His eyes narrowed as if he suspected something was going on. Finally he said, "Ok. Just be careful with her when you take her out." Dad turned around and walked back into the house. Soon he finished lunch and went back to work.
Shortly after that Steve and Geno pulled out of the alleyway with the car. They each had huge smiles on their faces. I stayed behind. I was only 11 after all. There was only so much of a rush I could take in one day.

I know it was fool hardy and reckless of Steve to drive like that with two of his younger brothers in the car.
But it was damn fun!

Thanks
A big thanks to Bob for the nice review at Blogarama
And thanks to Mark for the nice review he gave Embroidery Treasures. . (I'm not sure what happened but it wasn't my fault.) sheesh. I'm sure the poor ladies behind that blog are trying to figure out why their blog is being called,..A funny look at an improbable life.
I think it's funnier then if he actually gave the review to me.
If you'd still like to Review My Site I'd be honored.
Again Thanks Bob. And the lady's at Embroidery Treasures give Mark a big hug. (I'm sure they are making you something as we speak.)

Big Brother


I was going to spend this week writing about how my Dad went from a raging mad, insanely scary drunk who made anyone who knew him tremble with fear to a raging mad, insanely scary Alcohol and Drug Counselor who made anyone who knew him tremble with fear. But I'm not done yet getting all the facts from my family as of yet.(Yes I actually try to get a few "real" facts in here.)
Besides On November 23, it will be the 5th anniversary of my brother Steve's death. As sad as the time I wrote about my sister's death, Steve's was much more so. I could write about that time 5 years ago easily. Every minute, every detail is still etched in my mind. But it is still way too soon. The wounds are too fresh.
Besides the point here isn't that Steve is dead. The point here is that Steve lived. He lived a imperfect, insanely weird live that affected everyone around him. This world is a much poorer duller place without him. I've compared my family as a table with one leg missing since his death. Everything seems a bit rocky and unstable now.
Steve would do anything for family. Even if he was mad at you at the moment he would go to hell and back for a family member if they needed him. The day he mad his mad dash to the hospital when he thought my son's life was in danger still touches me to this day.
Yet he was also goofy as hell. Steve was the type of man who eyed his lawn gnomes with great distrust every time he went to his car. When he was drunk (and sometimes sober) he thought there might be an F.B.I. lesbian couple watching him from across the street. When a man began stalking my wife, Steve began to stalk the stalker.
I first noticed Steve was ill at my son Ethan's birthday party in 1998. He had turned a yellow shade that was only noticeable outside. A few weeks later he was in the hospital. When he came home he was thin and weak. We all knew it was serious.
A few weeks after that I began to have my own health issues. My eye became horribly inflamed for the second time in my life. Light hurt me. I was off work for a month, spending all my time in a darkened house. One day in late July there was a knock on the door. I had Ethan answer it.
He came back with a card in his hand. I took it out of the envelope and looked at it. On the front of the simple little card was a child's picture of a tree with a single green flower. It read, If I had One Wish......
Inside it continued...I'd Wish You Well! Feel Better Soon. Under that in Steve's handwriting was written, Hope your feeling better Steve.
I asked Ethan,"Did Uncle Steve give you this?"
"Yes Dad."
I ran outside ignoring the glare. I found Steve in my backyard walking slowly towards his car. He still looked horribly ill. Thin and pale with that ghastly yellow complexion. He was still very unwell. I called out his name. He stopped walking and turned around. The light was really bothering me.
"Hey Steve", I said. "You want to come inside?"
"No. I need to go home."
I laughed a little. "Aren't we a pair? You looking like the walking dead. Me with the possessed eye." I smiled at him. He smiled back. I had the card in my hand. I made a gesture towards it. "Thanks."
I wanted to say more. You know, that stuff that men don't say to each other. I wanted to let him know how much it touched me that while Steve was as sick as he was he was worried about me. I also felt ashamed that I had been so wrapped up in my own self pity that I had forgotten Steve's condition.
Steve just nodded and smiled. He turned around and walked to his car.
Four months later he was dead. The next few days were maybe the worst of my life. Sometime during that period I found the card Steve had given me and displayed it on the Piano in our house. Everytime someone came over I would show them the card and tell the story of my big brother.
In honor of my brother, I named my youngest son Isaac Steven Hernandez
On December 23, 2001 God burned my house down. (Yes my second fire.) I was in another town about to have Christmas Dinner with my in-laws when I got the news. During the 45 minute trip I kept saying to my wife ,"It won't be that bad."
It was that bad. My living room was a big hole.
The first thing I checked on when I walked into my house was Steve's card. Thank God it was unburned. That night it was the only thing I took from my house. Later when we got a motel room I put it on my night stand.
I still have it. It sits on my dresser mirror. To remind me of my brother.
Steve was a wild man. He loved to drive fast and play the guitar. He loved wrestling and Boxing. He came over to my house and watched every great boxing match of the 1990's with me. To this day whenever there is boxing on I make sure that there is an empty chair for him.
For the rest of the week in honor of Steve my blog will consist of Steve stories.

Steve was many things to many people but to me Steve was my big brother, and I loved him very much. He was also the best damned guitar player I ever heard.






Steve Fact
After he died his son Kris was going though some of Steve's papers and photo's when he found a speeding ticket Steve had been given. Steve was ticketed for doing well over 100 miles an hour. Steve kept the ticket for two reasons that he was very proud of.
1. Because he beat the ticket in court.
2. Because he was slowing down when the cop saw him. He had been going faster.

Ok when I first posted this review site for Blogarama something went wrong. My reviews were being sent to a site called Embroidery Treasures. Lord I hope she can take the abuse I'm sure was headed my way. I fear that this poor person will click on her reviews and see something like, "You are one twisted person. I hope you get the therapy you need. You are Possibly Mentally Unstable."Because lets be honest anyone who cares enough about Embroidery to write about it everyday can't be firing on all thrusters to begin with.

Please Be Kind

I just registered my blog at Blogarama It's a place to review other blogs apparently.

Anyway if you'd like trash my blog or give me a kind word just click Here. Please remember I'm a fragile person who doesn't take unkind words well.

All right stop the laughter. I do take it well. I've gotten used to it from 30 years of abuse of Mark pretending to be my best friend. And my wife Angie has given me a small amount of abuse during the last 10 years as well.
Thanks for toughening me up guys!

It Was A Dark And Stormy Night.
When I worked as Assistant Manager at the convenience store off the interstate I had a joke that I knew it was spring when the crazy people began to walk off the interstate. One time a man walked off the interstate. passed the gas Station to his left and made a beeline straight for mine. He walked in and went straight for my counter. He stood there a moment staring at me intently and said, "My dog doesn't like you."
He had no dog.
Another time a man walked off and began to use the car wash to take a shower.
Nude.
A third wanted to know if it was ok if he started a fire in the parking lot.
After a while my greatest fear there was that on a hot summer night someone was going to walk off that interstate and think God wanted him to kill me, and to use my skull as an ash tray. Of course I never said that. When people asked me what I feared most about working there I would joke, "My biggest fear is that one night a circus truck will tip over and some animals will escape. Then while I'm walking to my car at the end of the night a circus bear on a tricycle will kill me. The last thing I'll hear is the little horn on the bike." They would laugh and that would be the end of that.
It was in the winter of 96 that a horrible cold spell struck here in Illinois. Of course it had to happen on the nights I was working. One night the low was 15 below zero. The next night it was 20 below zero. The third night it was 30 below zero. These were bone chilling nights.
The first of those nights a car pulled in to get gas. A young woman got out and started pumping gas. Normally I would make people turn off the engine but it was so cold that night I wasn't going to make her. For some reason I felt sorry for her. She only had a thin jacket on and some gloves to protect her from the cold. Her license plates were from Iowa. When she came in to pay for the gas I let her have some free hot cocoa. She told me her name was Becky.
She stayed in the store for a while warming up. It was a very slow night. She asked me if it was always this slow. I said no but the weather was so bad no one in his right mind would be out on a night like this if they didn't have to be. She laughed. I asked her where she was going and she said she was visiting her fiance in Indiana. She also told me she was 4 months pregnant and hadn't seen him in a couple of weeks.
She looked very sad.
She looked even sadder when a few moments later her car stopped running. She ran out to the parking lot and tried to start it again. Nothing. Not even a click. I tried to call a few local people to come and check it out but the best I could do was get someone to say they'd look at it tomorrow morning.
Meanwhile she was stranded. I called the local Police Chief, a nice guy named Carl. I asked if he could take her to the nearest Motel eight miles away in a town called Geneseo. Carl said yeah but it would be an hour or so. There was a wreck on the other side of town.
I tried to make Becky feel more comfortable and started chatting with her. Eventually she asked me I wasn't nervous working in a place like this. I gave her my standard Bear killing me joke. She just stared at me and whispered, "Really?" She was so earnest I felt bad for joking. So I told her the truth.
"I'm worried that on some hot summer night some escaped lunatic is going to walk off that interstate and think God wants me dead."
She stared at me a bit more and said, "That would be scary. Why don't you quit?"
I thought about it a moment and said, "You know as funny as this may sound but I really like the people I meet here and I like the local people in this town. In fact the only person I don't like is my Manager Jason."
Soon Carl came and took her to the motel. I closed early that night and went home.
The next day I came back to work to find Becky in the store. I asked Jason why she was still there. He said her car was still being worked on. Jason looked mad.
"What's wrong now?"
Jason looked as if he was about to cry. " Becky told me you said some bad things about me. Is that true?"
I looked Jason in the face and said as nicely as I could," Jason I didn't say anything to her that I haven't said to you." I smiled. Not sure of what to think Jason changed the subject.
" I think she really likes you She's been asking about you all day."
"Really?" I looked over at her. She was acting different today. She had a camera and was taking pictures of everyone that came into the store. She saw me looking at her and gave me a big smile. She told me to smile and raised her camera up and snapped off a couple of shots.
Then she took a picture of my car.
A little while later the mechanics came over and told her that her car was fixed. Everyone felt sorry for her that she was all alone and pregnant and they gave her a really good price for the repairs. Also the mechanic and Jason were hitting on her. They thought if they were nice they could score.
"Jason that's not right man. She's pregnant. Man that's just wrong."
Becky seemed very nervous and wrote a check and left. Before she did she gave me a big hug. After she drove off Jason and the mechanic were making fun of me because she liked me.
"Maybe we'll call your wife and let her know", Jason joked.
I ignored them.
An hour or so lately Carl stopped in with a State Trooper. They wanted to know if Becky was still there. I told Carl she had left just a little while ago.
The State Trooper told me that Becky wasn't her real name and that she had escaped from a Mental Institution in Indiana and stole a car. The check she wrote out was from a stolen checkbook. Everything she had told us was a lie. Her age, her name, the fact that she was pregnant. All lies.
Oh . And she was also very violent without her medication.
I felt very cold and it had nothing to do with the fact that it was already 15 below zero outside.
I pride myself on being able to tell when someone is lying to me. And this girl told me nothing but lies and I didn't notice anything. I was really freaked out.
I remember thinking it was lucky it wasn't a hot summer night.
Jason of course wouldn't drop it. He kept calling me up and saying that only crazy people liked me. He had some girl call and pretend to be "Becky". It was so cold out that I had less customers then the night before. And Jason's antics were making it seem a very long night.
I don't remember what he did last. But something he said right before I closed really ticked me off. I'm pretty sure it was a comment about my,"wife being insane to like me." Whatever it was my first thought was to drive the few blocks over to his house and beat him until he cried.
No I thought. I'm a civilized guy. I'm above all that. I will not act childish and petty.
So when I closed the store I filled a bottle up with water. I locked the door and slowly spread the water around the lock and the door frame. Within seconds it had froze rock hard. Satisfied I got into my car and drove the 15 miles to home.
At 5 in the morning Jason came to open the store. He found his key would not work. It took him 2 hours and a torch to open his door.
I of course was shocked to hear that someone would do that. What sort of fiendish mind would come up with that?
Must have been some crazy person.

This is another item I'm stealing from Enajnerd. I wasn't going to steal it untill I got the results and realized that I really had to because I'm evil.

I am 84% Evil Genius

I am pure evil. I lie awake at night devising schemes of world domination, and I will not rest until all living souls bend to my will.

Take the Evil Genius Test at fuali.com

I understand that this will only confirm to my friends what they've known all along.

My weeklong tribute to stupid people continues


The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow
As I've said before between the years 1979 and 1984 my Mom was the caretaker of a private park. This meant that my summers were filled with swimming, fishing and camping. The first thing I did every morning was look out my bedroom window and see if there were any pretty girls on the beach.
My first year there I was shy and awkward towards the girls there. Then something clicked in my brain. I realized these pretty girls in small wet swimsuits were in my backyard. I became slightly more outgoing.
The summer of 1981 was my best yet. It was just fun. No other words to describe it. Where I'm sure my other brothers and sister would describe their teen years with angst and heartache, so far my biggest drama was how to sneak out of my room to get back to the campsite of 5 hot girls.
My days were filled with swimming in a lake. My nights were filled with running around the campsites looking for girls.
Rough life.
Anyway in the summer of 1981 a very pretty girl came out to the park. She was from Arizona spending the summer with her grandparents. Her grandparents were one of our summer regulars. They came out to the park around the end of May and didn't leave until the first of September.
Which meant that this girl was in my park all summer. Her name was Lisa. She was tall, with long blonde hair, and a dark tan. She spent most of her days on my beach wearing a skimpy pink bathing suit. I even caught my Dad checking her out from behind his ever present dark glasses.
I wasted no time in getting to know her. She was very friendly, always smiling with her perfect white teeth. At first she didn't talk a lot, staying silent and mysterious. This simply peaked my interest. I redoubled my interests to get to know her. Finally she began to open up.
And to my utter astonishment I found out that this girl was no smarter than a house plant. It became apparent that he hadn't been talking much because she didn't have anything to say. I came to the conclusion that she was smiling all the time because the last coherent thought she must have had was a happy one. The remnants of which were still bouncing around her empty skull.
I became afraid everytime she got into the water that her head was going to fill up and that she'd sink to the bottom.
As pretty as she was ( and she was pretty) I found the lack of intelligence very unattractive and moved on. ( What's funny is that in my 20's this would have been no problem at all)
As time went on I found that she was still very useful. Most of the other boys in the area would spend their time hitting on her. This left most of the other girls free for me. After a while I barely noticed her anymore.
A few weeks into the summer I was found out there was to be a Lunar Eclipse coming up. I had no memory of ever seeing on before and was looking forward to viewing it. The eclipse wouldn't happen until well after midnight that night and I decided to camp out to see it. Also there was a new girl camping out that night with her family and I wanted to meet her.
So that night I was walking though the campsites heading towards my parents small camper when I stopped and was talking to Lisa's grandparents. I told them I'd be spending the night out there waiting for the lunar eclipse.
Lisa looked at me and asked, "What a lunar eclipse?"
Trying to think of the most simple way to explain it to her I said," Well you know what a regular eclipse is right? It's when moon gets in front of the sun and it gets all dark for a little. Well a Lunar one is where........"
I saw a flash in Lisa's eyes, (in all likely hood the flash was simply two spare neutrons smashing together in her empty skull) and she rushed to finish what she thought I was saying. "It's where the sun gets in front of the moon?!" She was so happy.
I stared at her for a moment with my mouth open, stunned. I was about to tell her she was wrong when I suddenly thought, it would be more fun to just let her think she was right. Slowly a smile spread over my face.
"Yes. Yes that right."
She got very excited. "Oh will the sun come out for a little bit?"
My smile spread. "Yes. Yes it will." This was just too much fun. I added,"And I'm going swimming when it does."
She became very animated. "Oh Oh can I go with you when it does.!"
"Sure!" This was quickly becoming more fun than the actual upcoming eclipse. I talked with her a little more and she got even more excited. Jumping up and down saying she couldn't wait for this to happen. Eventually I couldn't think of anything else to make up and went to my camper just a few yards away.
A few minutes later she came over to me while I was making a campfire. "Why don't we have these in Arizona?"
Smiling I looked up at her. "Well you see it's because of the time difference. Arizona is two hours behind. So by time it's the same time in Arizona it's already over."
"Ohhhhhhhh." She acted like what I said made any sense.
The family camping next to me asked what she was all excited about. I told them and they all cracked up laughing. A little later when they were heading to the showers to clean up for the night, they told Lisa they were taking the towels to the beach to wait for the eclipse.
Lisa was now running around like a headless chicken. She ran into her grandparents massive camper and came out a few moments later with a swimsuit and large beach towel. After a while this got boring and I went off to find the new girl. She came back to my campsite ,we talked a while around the campfire and eventually she went back to her camp site. Around midnight I noticed Lisa sitting in a lawn chair outside her camper. She was still wearing her swimsuit. Her towel was wrapped around her like a blanket. She was still waiting for the eclipse.
I fell asleep before the eclipse happened. Around 5 in the morning I heard banging on my camper door. It was Lisa. She was screaming ,"It's happening ! It's happening!"
I opened my door. "Lisa it's just the sunrise."
She was very disappointed. "But I stayed up all night waiting for it."
"Maybe you fell asleep for a little without realizing it." I put my hand on her shoulder. "Maybe next year."
Later on that day Dad called me into the office. Lisa's grandfather was there. "Did you make Lisa think the sun was coming out at 2 in the morning?"
"Maybe a little."
Dad was trying very hard not to smile. "Don't do that anymore."
I often wonder what ever happened to Lisa. With her looks she could have become a model, a actress, a stripper, or a high priced call girl. In her case probably all of the above. In that order.

So what's the most outrageous thing you've ever made someone believe? Or whats the most outrageous thing you've been led to believe? Just curious.

We get Less Intelligent By The Day.

In my weeklong tribute to stupid people I was in the midst of writing a blog about a girl whom I once convinced that the sun was coming out at 2 in the morning for a few minutes before fading away again. I figured you don't get more stupid then that.
Then I read this article on MSN. I was going to just post a link to it but what the hell I'm a lazy guy so I'll just reprint it here in full. That way it'll look like I've done more work then I really have today.
Anyone who falls for this will forever go down in my book as dumber than the girl who believed the sun was coming out at 2 in the morning.

Chicken-Fried Bull
A new ad says KFC's drumsticks are good for you.
By Rob Walker
Posted Monday, Nov. 10, 2003, at 8:05 AM PT


KFC, the fast-food chicken chain, has a new ad out that seems, judging by my e-mail, to be bothering a lot of people. The problem is that the ad strongly suggests that fried chicken is the cornerstone of a healthy diet. Apparently, some people find this misleading. (You can see the spot at AdAge.com.)

The commercial begins with a stereotypical Lazy American Man slumped in the living room in front of The Game. In comes his slim and perky wife, who says, "Remember how we talked about eating better?" This causes Lazyman to make a face (understandably, I think). "Well," says the wife, "it starts today." Then she plops a 12-piece bucket of chicken in front of him. An announcer quickly reels off various facts and figures suggesting that KFC's chicken is healthier than Burger King's Whoppers. Lazyman, choking down another mouthful, removes any doubt among viewers that he's anything other than a slow-witted jackass by telling his wife that he's only doing this for her. The wife makes a sour face. What a miserable couple.

Anyway, KFC is plunging forward with this campaign, giving no apparent thought to the possibility that some will find it preposterous. In a somewhat astonishing press release, the company says it intends to "educate the public" that "fried chicken can be part of a healthy, balanced diet" and quotes the company's executive vice president of "marketing and food innovation" as saying: "With more and more Americans on diets and increasingly health-conscious, we thought it was important to get this information to consumers so they can judge for themselves how to make KFC part of their healthy lifestyle
But it turns out that there are at least a handful of people who don't really buy the idea that a bucket of fried chicken is healthy eatin'. Well, of course it's not. Here's a little secret about advertising: It can be misleading. (You may not know this, but in real life, there is no brand of chewing gum or hair gel that will instantly transform you into a pulsing object of sexual desire. For instance.) After all, pretty much every ad for a weight-loss scheme or potion features not a picture of a pile of millet, but a shot of that one huge slice of chocolate cake or obscenely large steak that you're allowed to scarf down if you follow all the other rules.

Presumably, the KFC people simply figured that if the ever-credulous American public is willing to accept Dr. Phil as a weight-loss guru, or to buy the idea that Subway sandwiches will melt away their rolls of fat, then surely they'll lap up this pitch like so much chicken grease. Yeah, the company's official line talks up exercise (while the guy in the ad is a picture of sloth) and moderation (while showing two people splitting a bucket of the stuff). But who'll notice?

In a particularly brilliant maneuver, KFC's press release further suggests that you can make its chicken even more healthy by removing the skin. You have to appreciate the comedy of telling people to buy fried chicken and then toss the skin away. I only wish they'd had the guts to go further and point out that you can make your KFC bucket-meal healthier still by removing the skin, and then throwing away the chicken and preparing yourself a nice salad. (Try it. It's so good for you that afterward you can have a cigarette—provided you don't smoke it, of course.)

KFC will not go broke for having underestimated the stupidity of the American public, but I don't think this campaign is going to do much for sales. But the problem isn't that the ad is misleading (since it's fooling no one); the problem is that it so badly misunderstands the point of fried chicken. Fried chicken, done well, is a worthwhile thing. Its decadence trumps the entire concept of the "healthy lifestyle" and makes dieting seem like a flawed, pointless exercise for tedious goody-goodies (or awful and unhappy people like the couple in the ad). If KFC wants me to buy their fried chicken, the company should try to convince me that its product is actually worthy of the name. Maybe they considered that idea at some point—and decided that selling the stuff as health food just seemed more credible.

I've gained much weight in my life recently. Some of it can be blamed on the truly massive doses of Prednisone I've been given. But much of it can also be blamed on the truly massive amounts of KFC I've eaten over the years. ( I have to give thanks to Mark here for throwing himself on a bucket of KFC I'd ordered once for 3 people and consuming it himself. Surely if not for his deed there I would weigh an extra half pound)
So my stupid people award today is two fold
1. For the ad men who came up with the idea that people would buy the fact that KCF is healthy for you. ( No Offense but it's not. You are too dumb to live if you really believe this or use it as an excuse to eat KFC. It's finger licking death in a bucket. ) I wish add men would stop making these adds as if we are all morons.
2. For THE MORONS WHO ACTUALLY BUY INTO THE IDEA THAT KFC OR ANY OTHER FAST FOOD PLACE IS HEALTHY! It's not. It never will be. Eating at these places will only hasten your demise.
Here, lets practice your death someday. Place your hand over your chest. Make a grabbbing gesture. Now say in a strained voice,"My Heart". There you've seen your last few seconds on this planet courtesy of places like KFC.
You know what kind of ad I would admire? A very fat guy eating a bucket of chicken. He looks up at the camera and says,"It's so good it's worth the time it's taking off my life expectancy!" Then have the man fall over dead.

............You know all this talk has made me hungry. I think I'll head out to KFC. Before I go here's the actual AD from KFC themselves. Enjoy.


Maybe I'll get some McDonald's fries to go with my bucket of chicken?

GEEK MUCH?
I got this from Ejannerd's blog. The sad thing is I was hoping to do better. Oh well. With practice I can become a bigger geek someday. Even though I'm sure my wife would agree I'm already a big enough one as it is. But I thought this fit in with my theme this week of losers and idiots I've met.



I am 30% Geek

You probably work in computers, or a history deptartment at a college. You never really fit in with the "normal" crowd. But you have friends, and this is a good thing.

Take the Geek Test at fuali.com

Well since sadly we live in a world without Heroes (No one answered my question last Thursday) let me ask about villains. Who do you think are the biggest villains we have today? (No Saddam's or Bin Ladan's. Too obvious.)
My answer would be Ignorance. I try to combat it where ever I meet it. Most often with less than spectacular results.


Those Who Do Not Remember The Past Are Condemned To Repeat 8th grade.

In 1999 I was working at Wal-Mart when the Manager called most of my crew into the breakroom. He was wanting us to raise donations for the World War 2 memorial.
"We owe the Soldiers who fought for us a lot. If it wasn't for them we'd all be speaking Russian right now."
I rubbed my eyes. I knew I should just stay quiet. People sometimes accuse me of being a know it all. ("No", I'd say "You're a know it none.") It was just a slip of the tongue.
Stay quiet. Keep your mouth shut, I thought.
The Assistant Manager joined in. "Yes we'd all be Communist now if it wasn't for them." People all around the breakroom were nodding. "We owe them more then we can pay."
I couldn't take it anymore. I raised my hand. The Manager said,"Yes Tom?"
"Germans", I said.
"What?"
"We fought the Germans in World War 2", I informed them.
The Manager looked very skeptical. "Are you sure?"
" Pretty sure", I said quietly.
The Assistant Manager gave me a smirk." I don't think the Germans were ever Communist ." Many nods around the room at that.
(Oh Good God.)
I looked down at the table for a moment.
"Nazi's", I said. "We fought the Nazi's. The Soviet Union were our allies. We fought with them."
I looked around the room. Everyone was giving me that,"He's a know it all " look. One of my co-workers asked sarcastically, "Well when did we fight the Russians?"
"We didn't. That was the whole point of the Cold War."
The Assistant Manager chimed back in. "Didn't we fight them during the Korean War?"
I put my head in my hands. Please God, I thought, please let them be joking.
"No", someone else said. "We fought the Vietnamese."
I looked back up.
"No Offense", I said." But are you people brain dead? We fought the Koreans and the Chinese in the Korean War. We fought the Vietnamese in the Vietnam War! We never ever had a war with the Russians!"
Everyone just stared at me. Somewhere I heard someone whisper,"What a know it all."
Someone else asked,"Who did we fight in MASH?"
" The Japanese", The Assistant Manager said confidently. He looked at me with a "prove me wrong look".
I took a deep breath. " The Koreans".
He rolled his eyes. "You said we fought the Koreans during the Korean War?"
" Mash took place during the Korean War."
The meeting broke up and everyone headed back to work. The Assistant Manager asked me to come to his office.
I walked into his office. "Yes?"
"I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't disrupt our meetings."
"No Offense but I have an urge to point out stupid comments when I hear them."
"Are you calling me stupid?"
"No", I said. "I was calling your comments stupid. Was I unclear?"
He glared at me for a second. "Go back to work."
I turned to walk out the door. I looked behind me. "If you need any more history lessons just ask." I smiled at him.
"Get Back To Work!"

My wife will agree. Sometimes I can be a know it all.

Still kinda busy here. So this week will be made up of shorter blogs entries. I'll get back to 1974 next week.
So in honor of a boy in 5th grade named Nolan who gave a report in front of the class on The French and Indian War where he had the French and the Indians duking it out with each other this week is devoted to the most stupid people I've met.
Go West Young Man
In 1997 I was working as Assistant Manager at a convenience store off Interstate 80 in a small town called Atkinson Illinois. It was in the middle of June that year that a van with Nebraska plates pulled in to the store. It was around 5 in the afternoon. A younger man got out to fuel up while a slightly older woman came in to use the restroom. When the man was done fuelling he just got back into the van. The lady came out of the restroom , grabbed a couple of 20 ounce bottle of Pepsi and came up to the counter. I rang up her pop and charged her for her gas. After she paid she pulled a little map out of her purse and laid it on the counter. It was all folded up.
"Where am I on this", she asked.
Barely looking at the tiny map I answered ,"You're at mile marker 27 on interstate 80. You're about 2 and half hours from Chicago."
She looked at her map with a confused expression. "Could you show me where I am on this?"
I took the map from her and stared at it. It appeared to be some old map torn from a book or something. It barely showed all the states and only had a few major interstate on it. It took me a moment to understand where she had folded it up to.
It was folded up to Colorado and Utah.
I looked out again at the Nebraska plates.
"ma'am? Um........Where are you headed?"
"California. I'm going to my daughters wedding. We left Omaha at around 8 this morning."
I stared at the counter trying to figure out a nice way to break the news to her that she's been going the wrong way all day. " Let's just forget the little sign that must have said, 'Welcome to Iowa'. But when you crossed that bridge over that big river a while ago didn't that really big sign that said, 'Thank you for visiting Iowa. Welcome to Illinois', ring any alarm bells?"
Her face went a little pale. "What?"
"Lady you're going the wrong way."
" I don't believe you."
I took a piece of paper that had our store name and address on it and showed it to her. "See? Illinois. We're EAST of Nebraska. You want to go WEST."
"You're making this up!"
"No . No I'm not if I was making it up I'd tell you to keep going East and that you be in California in just a few short hours." I started to feel a little sorry for this poor misguided woman. "Why don't you buy one of our Atlas's that have the whole United States on it. They're only $ 12.95"
"I'm not wasting $12.95 on a map", she said rather harshly.
"No offense lady , but if you'd wasted $12.95 on a map and could tell the difference between East and West you wouldn't have wasted 8 hours driving the wrong way, and lord knows how much gas just to visit me!" I smiled at her.
She was very angry now. "Well how do I get back?"
Very slowly so she couldn't misunderstand me I said,"You turn around and go back the way you came. If you're lucky you'll get back to Omaha in time to go to bed and try it again tomorrow."
"You're making this up!"
At about this time a local customer named Brendan came in. I motioned him over. "Hey Brendan what state are we in?"
" Illinois?"
I motioned to the lady at the counter. "Brendan I want you to meet the dumbest person I've ever met"
With that she stormed out of the store and marched to her van. She left her two Pepsi's and folded up map on the counter. She proceeded to yell at the younger man in the van. A minute later they sped away. Brendan and I watched them head back to the interstate. They passed the West bound entrance and turned off again heading East.
Brendan looked at me."You should be nicer to the customers."
I watched the van head off towards Chicago. "I'm not to worried about repeat business here." I looked back to Brendan. "Hey want a Pepsi? I got a couple of free ones."
The moral of the story?
A. Never leave home without a map.
B. Never leave home without at least a vague idea what coast you are heading towards.
C. Never get upset when I point out to you that you are an idiot with no sense of direction.




Sad fact about me 4
When I say "No Offense but......" It's a safe bet that I'm going to offend you.

HEROES

Ok Thursday's blog is late and there will be no Friday blog. I have my annual Thanksgiving dinner for friends this weekend so I will be busy with that for the next few days.
So my question for today is, who are your heroes? Why are they your hero? Do you even have any in today's world? We have people we admire. We have people we look up to but a hero comes along only so often. I asked Ethan who his heroes were and he told me I was his hero. Nice but heroes should be larger then life.
As a child I had three heroes Doc Savage Captain Kirk, and Muhammad Ali . The first two were easy to explain. I wanted to be them. The idea of being Captain of a starship or being an explorer or adventurer appealed to me greatly. They were a pure escapist fantasy to me.
Doc Savage and Captain Kirk were fictional characters. Muhammad Ali was real. He was the greatest fighter I ever saw. But what made me admire him so fiercely was that his fights in the ring always seemed to mean so much more then a simple boxing match.
Muhammad gave up his titles and his boxing career when he refused to fight in Vietnam. He didn't protest in the streets. He didn't burn the flag. He made his stand by not stepping forward when his name was called to fight. He didn't dodge. He didn't hide. But he risked everything he had and everything he had ever done for what he believed. My Dad was an ex-Marine. He was as Pro-Military as you'll ever find. But when I asked him as a child about what Ali was doing all Dad would say was,"He's doing what he believes is right. You have to admire a person like that even if you don't agree."
It was as close to a negative comment as Dad would ever utter about Ali.
Ali was stripped of his title as Heavyweight Champion and denied a boxing license in all 50 states. His passport was taken away. Ali appealed his case all the way to the Supreme Court. There he won. But by then the damage had been done. For 3 and a half years he wasn't able to fight. The best years of his boxing life were taken away from him.
His titles had been given to a man named Joe Frazier. Ali wasted no time trying to get a fight with him. After just two warm up matches the Fight was scheduled for March of 1971. He was to lose that fight by a close decision.
When he fought Joe Frazier it was if Ali represented the anti-war people whereas Frazier was the pro-war fighter of choice. (In all fairness to Joe he had no vote in it.) And when Ali lost that fight it seemed as if the bad guys had won.
I was crushed.
But Ali would not give up. He kept fighting. Two years later he fought another man named Ken Norton. In the first round of the 12 round fight he broke Muhammad's jaw. Ali refused to quit. The fight went the distance and he lost a split decision. Which meant that even with a broken jaw one of the three judges thought he won.
My mind boggles at the pain he endured.
Again Ali started over. Within the next year he had avenged both his loses by defeating Joe Frazier and Ken Norton in rematches.
But Joe Frazier no longer held the title of Heavyweight Champion.
A big lumbering powerful young man named George Foreman was now champ. (Even though he says he's the same guy, the big nice bald guy with the goofy smile bares no resemblance to the utterly frightful man who was heavyweight champ.)
George Foreman had also defeated Joe Frazier and Ken Norton. Where it took Ali 2 fights each and a combined 51 rounds to finally beat those two guys it took George a combined 4 rounds. He knocked Joe Frazier down 5 times and He knocked Norton down 3. It was simply the most awesome thing I had ever seen in the ring. Foreman wasn't human he was some kind of monster. Dad suggested he was a bigfoot they had shaved and taught how to fight.
So when Ali was scheduled to meet him in the ring I was very afraid for him. I honestly thought that he might be killed. Foreman was bigger , vastly more powerful, and 11 years younger. My brother John was almost zen like serene in his confidence that Ali would prevail.
On October 30th 1974 they fought. He didn't have the fight on TV there was no pay per view back then. So we had to listen to it on the radio. Round by round he listened. And with each round I grew more afraid. All Ali was doing it seemed was laying against the ropes. He was letting George Foreman throw his most powerful punches right at him. I looked at John clearly afraid. John just looked right back and said in a inhumanly calm voice, "He knows what he's doing."
And he was right. In the 8th round Muhammad Ali knocked out Foreman and became the Heavyweight Champion again. I was so happy I literally jumped in John's arms.
It seemed that good guys had finally won. For the first time since I was 3 Muhammad Ali was Heavyweight Champion and everything was as it should be.
So yes while I admire Martin Luther King, JFK, and RFK, and a host of other people I never actually saw their fights. Ali was and is my hero because his fights took place before the world.
I still love boxing. I still make a point to watch the important fights. But they seem more empty less meaningful since Ali left the sport.
Over the last few years I've watched Ali battle Parkinson's without ever once asking for pity. I actually got choked up when he lit the Olympic torch in 1996. I've watched him transcend the sport he was so great at.
When I read in the newspaper or hear on the news that some famous person has passed away I'll generally say something like ,"That's sad." Even when William Shatner eventually passes away it won't choke me up to much. After all he's just an actor.
But I know on the day that Muhammad Ali dies that I will cry like a baby.

Nixon's Doomsday




One other thing happened on Monday January 7th 1974 that effected my life. The local ABC affiliate WQAD started rerunning Star Trek. It's impossible for me to tell you how much this meant to me. I had vague memories of watching Star Trek when it was first on the air. But the memory of my love for the show was still strong.
In fact on that busy January night there was only one episode I could remember clearly. It was called the Doomsday Machine. That episode was about a cigar shaped robot spanning hundreds of miles long chopping up planets and eating the rubble for fuel. The Enterprise finds a wrecked starship called the Constellation which had encountered the Doomsday Machine and was now drifting in space with only it's Captain left aboard. Together both ships must combat the Doomsday Machine before it gets to Earth. The effects are cheesy by todays standards but back then I thought it was great.
I loved that episode. Even though I had only seen it once it left a very big impression on me. Everytime John would buy himself a model of the Enterprise I would take a lighter to it and transform it into the Constellation. John was never happy with my handiwork.
So when Star Trek reruns began playing I knew it was only a matter of time before the Doomsday Machine was shown. I began saving up money and bought myself a new model of the Enterprise. Within days I had transformed it into the Constellation. Soon I had bought myself another Enterprise. This one I kept in nice shape.
Sometime during Easter break , TV Guide said that the episode I had awaited for was finally coming on. I was overjoyed. The day of the episode I grabbed my models and sat in front of the TV. At 3 in the afternoon right after Gilligan's Island went off I changed the channel to watch my show.
I was greeted with a picture of a large room with a bunch of old men talking. This wasn't right, I thought. I grabbed the TV Guide and thumbed to the page I had marked. There it was. 3 o'clock. Star Trek. Doomsday Machine. WQAD. Channel 8.
I looked up at the TV. It was on channel at. It was three o'clock.
"Mom!"
Mom came out of the kitchen. "Yes?"
"What's this stuff?" I pointed at the TV.
"That's the Watergate hearings."
"Watergate? What's that?"
" Ask your Dad. He'll tell all about it. All I know is President Nixon did something wrong."
Nixon? Nixon did this?
Three o'clock slowly drifted to four o'clock. I sat there waiting for this thing to end. I was very upset. Mom could see how mad I was from the look on my face. "Well if they didn't show your little show today maybe they'll show it tomorrow?" Leave it to my Mom to make me feel better.
The next day I sat down at 3 o'clock and turned the channel. Star Trek came on.
It wasn't the Doomsday Machine. They had skipped it. I was so mad there were tears coming out of my eyes.
That night after Dad came home but before he could get too drunk I asked him what these Watergate hearings were.
" Tricky Dick broke the law and they are having the hearings to prove it."
"How long will it take?"
"I suppose until they prove it or Nixon admits it."
" You mean if he just told them what happened all this would stop?"
Dad looked thoughtful (in all likely hood he was trying to remember how much beer he had left in the fridge.) "I guess."
Nixon. What a jerk I thought.
As the days went by the Watergate hearings became worse. More and more Star Trek episodes were being preempted by them. Many times Mom would wander into the living room between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon to find me sitting upside down in Dad's chair, mumbling under my breath over and over again,"Confess confess confess."
Soon other channels began showing the Watergate hearings. Gilligan's Island became another casualty of our mad President. Get Smart another. Eventually all I was left with was PBS. This effectively left me with no television to watch. After all I was in 3rd grade. Far to old to watch Big Bird and Bert and Ernie.
I did a lot of reading that summer. After all 1974 was still a few years away from us having our first VCR. I also found myself listening to a lot of records. My favorites were Cheech and Chong, and one Richard Pryor album. But in order to listen to them I had to turn them way down so Mom and Dad wouldn't listen to them.
Right after 3rd grade got out for the summer TV Guide listed the Doomsday Machine to come back on. I got all my Star Trek items and sat in front of the television an hour early. I kept praying for the hearings to end early that day. 3 o'clock came and the hearings kept right on rolling on. I screamed. Mom came running into the living room and asked me what was wrong. I looked up at her and said in an anguished voice,"They just won't stop!" Mom had no idea what I was saying.
Then at 3.30 the hearings ended for the day. A flash of hope surged though me. Perhaps I could see at least half the episode? A commercial came and went. Then F-Troop started came on.
F-Troop?
Any half a Star Trek episode was far better then an whole F-Troop any day! When was Nixon going to stop holding the airwaves hostage and just go away? A deep deep burning hatred began to burn in my heart for the evil little man. The sooner he was gone the happier my life would be. What idiots elected this dink anyway?
I found Dad before he was too drunk that night to answer questions.
"Dad did you vote for Nixon?"
"Hell no."
"Who did?"
"Republicans."
"What's a Republican?"
"Who's the bad guys on Star Trek?"
I perked up on this. "Klingons and Romulans!"
Dad waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah Republicans are a lot like those guys." (I've since come to learn that Klingons have more honor.)"And Nixon's their evil leader."
Nixon........Republicans. I was really starting to hate these guys. Just give me back my shows, I thought. I was spending more time then was healthy playing outside with friends, and reading books and running around with my dog. I needed to be in the house watching shows I had memorized years ago.
I mean Good God even the Munsters and the Adams Family were being preempted. When was this madness going to stop?
With virtually no Television during the day time summer seemed to crawl by.
Then about a month before school was to begin again, in early August 1974 TV Guide listed the Doomsday Machine again. It was to come on Friday August 9th at 3 oclock. "Please", I thought to myself, "Please let this be an early day."
Then Wed night August 7th Nixon came on TV and gave a short speech. He said he was resigning.
I looked at Dad. "What's that mean?"
"He's giving up. He's quitting." Dad had a huge smile on his face. It was not unlike what a shark might look like before it bites someone.
He's quitting?
I couldn't believe it. I was so happy I began to laugh. The next day was a beautiful warm summer day. I watched the television as it showed the little evil man boarding a helicopter and flying away. Nixon flew to an airport where he got on a big jet. He then flew of to California. As the newsmen talked they kept showing where the presidents plane was on a map. When the time came for his plane to flying overhead where I was I ran outside into the street and looked up in the sky. Sure enough a few minutes later I saw a jet fly overhead. (I'm not sure if that really was his jet but my 9 year mind was awfully sure.)
I began to dance in the street. "He's gone!" I began shouting for all my neighbors to hear." Tricky Dick is gone!" I saw various curtains pulled aside and women peeking out at me. I didn't care."Tricky Dick is GONE!" I was practically screaming at this point.
The next day Friday August 9th 1974 the Doomsday Machine finally came on. I sat on the floor just a few feet from the television holding my models of the Enterprise and Constellation. The entire time there was a smile on my face and I was content.

In 1992 on one of the first dates with my soon to be wife we went to Best Buy. While I was wandering around looking at the video tapes for sale I saw a bunch of Star Trek episodes for sale. There in the middle was The Doomsday Machine. Best Buy was selling it for only $9.95. I thought it was funny that it was now so easy to buy after all the trouble It was to watch it back in 1974. I couldn't resist getting it . I took it home and watched it a few times before putting it away and forgetting about it.
On Friday April 22 1994 Nixon died. They aired his funeral on TV. All the former presidents except Reagan attended and gave speeches. I didn't watch much of it. Nixon had stolen far too many hours of my childhood television shows. I wasn't going to let him have anymore.
Instead a few moments after the funeral came on I dug around under my television cabinet, found the video tape of the Doomsday Machine and popped it into the VCR. I thought it was fitting.