Three subjects. No extra charge

   I made it through another work week.  For that,  I am one happy sum-bitch.  I don't have a physically hard job.  I just seem to be surrounded by people that are either completely bat-shit crazy or are so tired of dealing with life,  they just do not give a shit anymore.  I know I shouldn't complain.  I am lucky to have a place to go every day that pays me,  without fail,  every week.  We have been working overtime since before Christmas.  That makes for great paychecks,  but,  it makes my ass drag in the dirt.  The past two weeks we even worked Saturdays.  So, the 10 hours we worked today felt like fifteen.  My company is having their national sales meeting and sales awards banquet (drunken idiot fest) this weekend.  It's amazing!  Mysteriously,  none of our customers were going to run out of product and cause a disastrous breakdown/shutdown that will cost us millions upon millions of dollars.  Eff you salesmen!  Kiss my ass the next time you call with your BS stories.  So,  today was horribly slow and the clock just couldn't move fast enough.  Again,  I am so happy to be home in my comfy chair babbling about my troubles.
   I've got Lewis Black on the TV.  I like to watch him because he kind of reminds me of myself.  He is a spaz.  He cusses to pass time between thoughts.  He gets so excited about what he's saying,  his arms are flailing and his fingers are twitching and the volume of  his voice changes about 40db during every sentence.  The only thing I've got against him is;  he is a full blown hypocrite liberal.  That's OK though.  He makes me laugh.  Funny is funny,  no matter what your politics,  sexual preference,  race,  religion,  or nationality is.  Laughter, to me,  is an international language.  Make me laugh and we are instantly friendly.
   I live on a street that is becoming increasingly busier every week.  About 1 1/2 miles east of my house,  the D.O.T built an interchange connecting our street to the local N/S expressway.  That has increased our traffic three fold.  Our saviour Mayor has called our street the " Gateway" to our beloved town.  FU and BS.  Now the city is building a 40 something acre park that starts about an 1/8 mile down the street and will be behind all of our houses.  I'm thrilled about the park,  not the traffic.  Traffic is an issue with my next complaint.
   Let me start by saying something.  Nobody appreciates first responders more than I do.  You may appreciate them as much,  just not any more than I.  That being said.  I just do not understand why two to for squad cars have to speed down my two lane street doing at least 60 mph to an accident that has already occurred.  The speed limit is 25mph here so a car doing 60 is a BIG deal.  Rarely do they have sirens sounding.  You can hear the engines screaming and the air whistling through the light bar but no sirens.  Just an hour ago,  three squads whipped through here splitting both lanes at a pretty good clip.  WTF.  I want my first responders to get to the scene fast, but,  they need to make sure they're going to get there without injuring someone else first.  Seriously,  what's gonna happen when the kids are crossing the street to get to the new park and they don't hear the whistling light bar and can't see around the cars going both directions.  I pray it never does happen like that.
   Enough bitching.  Seriously,  next time you see a first responder or an armed serviceman/woman,  offer to buy their coffee or something like that.  Most will decline, but they really do deserve the offer.  Remember this;  when you are running out of your burning house or running away from the bad guys,  the cops and fireman are running towards the danger.  Have a great weekend!
  

WTF! That was along smoke break!

   Well.  I set out to do this blog thing as a form of therapy for myself.  It turned out to be a task.  Not a big task,  just one I wasn't dedicated to.  I never made time to sit and write. I was always "too busy".  That,  my friends,  is a bunch of bulls#!t.  I thought I was busy.  The reality is,  I am a fat lazy turd.  I would rather sit in front of the idiot box and bark at it like a dog instead of getting up and walking the twenty-eight feet to get the laptop out of the "computer room" and write my thoughts down. 

   So I sit here,  almost a year and a half later,  trying to continue what I started.  Lots of schtuff has happened since the last post.  Too much to try and catch up on in one or even one-hundred posts.  I'll try to let you know a couple things.  Mrs. Mike did run the 2010 Chicago Marathon.  She finished too!  She was not happy at all with her time.  I don't care. She finished a marathon while my biggest accomplishment that year was finding a big and tall store that actually carried my jean size.  The 2010 deer hunting season was a successful one for me. I harvested (killed) three deer. Two does with my bow and a nice old buck with my shotgun.  We didn't have to buy red meat for almost a year.  This past season was not a success as far as the harvest,  but,  I got to take Mini Mike out with me for the first time.  It was a total Dad/Son moment. Made me cry.  Mini Mike also played his first season of organized football and realized he loves it.  Now,  this season I'm coaching.  I won't lie,  I'm excited.  Mini Mike has also started Karate and is pretty good at that too.  I am working my a$$ off to pay for it all.  It's worth it,  for sure.  We got rid of the old pop-up and bought a 24' travel trailer.  Yep,  just like The Jeffersons.  Mrs. Mike is training for a local half marathon and I'm on a weight loss kick myself.

   So,  there you have it.  That's just a little touch of our live for now.  Hopefully, I can stay motivated to write some of my everyday BS down because it's funny and it really does help my brain heal when I tell other people about it.

  

Pay up Sucka

I am a fan of  MMA. That would be mixed martial arts. I have always enjoyed boxing. I won't start the debate over which is better. About two years ago, I decided to buy a UFC pay per view event. I have been hooked ever since. I will purchase and watch every event I can, if I think the card is worth it and I have the money to do so. I like to sit in my own ass print on my own couch. Others may choose to go to a bar or Hooters. I find it cheaper to stay home. Also, I feel sorry for the waitress that has five tables, each with six douchebags, that run her ass in to the ground for four hours and leave her a $12 tip. That's per table, not customer. Disagree? Ask someone that has worked for this kind of establishment before.

Last week, I watched UFC 119, an I was horribly disappointed. I thought the card was good. It just turned out to be lackluster. A fellow Facebooker mentioned something about the suckiness. Don't laugh, that is an awesome word. Anyway, I replied to him. I joked that I wanted to call the president of the UFC and demand my money back. He replied,"Whoa dude! Who pays for that stuff anyway?" Then he posted a link to a website that streams it for free. Illegally, of course. I'm gonna try to explain my feelings on this topic.

First; Why would I want to watch it on a 17" monitor. I have a big ass TV that sits in front of my ass print. I'm not very techy, so I don't have internet hooked up to the TV.  There is also a bigger and better reason that I pay for these events. It is the same reason I buy music. I pay, because it's the right thing to do. These men (and women) train and work their asses off for these competitions. The ultimate prize is, of course, victory. There is also some pay that goes along with it. They don't do it for free. This is their product, like a photographer's photos are a writer's music or literature. They produce it, and should be paid for it. It's really easy to say, "They are all over paid anyway!" Would you say that if you were in the same position? Or, more likely, would you want to "get paid". You and I have had the exact same opportunity to excel at any craft we want. Some have the talent, desire, and drive. Some don't. Some make it, some don't. It's really that simple.
This friend with the free link, he works for one of the "big three" auto makers. I wonder what he would say if every fourth or fifth automobile was taken off the line and given away. Or better yet, given to someone that is getting paid to give your product away. That is how these free streaming sites do their business. They get paid by advertisers to give stolen stuff away.  I don't know. I'm thinking, treat others the way you want to be treated. I don't look down on this guy. It's just not for me.

I don't know if, at any time, my incoherent rambling made any sense to anybody. I do know, somebody agrees with me. I just can't get the thoughts out of my head and on to the screen. Whatever. Do the right thing.

Customer service

Today, Mrs Mike participated in a charity event in Chicago. Mini Mike and I went along for support, and to pet all the dogs and get free stuff. Getting there was the hard part.

So, it's Sunday morning. The three of us stayed up late last night. No reason. We were just hanging out. The alarm went off at 5:30 a.m. and Mrs Mike promptly hit the snooze button. We wanted to leave the house by 6:30 a.m. At 6:12, I woke up in that panic mode. You know what I'm talking about. HOLY EFFIN HECK! We need to get going! We made it out of the house by 6:45. Not bad.

We decide to take The Skyway. For those of you not familiar, the Skyway is a toll road that is connected to the Indiana Toll Road. On a good day, it is the fastest way to get to Chicago from here. To make this a fast trip, you need to pay attention to what you are doing and be awake. I wasn't any of that this morning. First, I took the wrong exit, then I missed the exit I needed to correct my first mistake. I removed my head from my ass and got us pointed in the right direction. As I said earlier, we were late, and hungry. Just after you cross the state line, there is a McDonalds in the middle of the toll road, just before the toll plaza. We decided to stop for some grease and OJ.

There were only two cars in the drive-thru. Let's try it. Ten minutes later, it is our turn. I ordered three breakfast meals, all with OJ, and four extra hash browns. Why so many hash browns? Because they are awesome and Mini Mike will eat 12 of them if I let him. My order pops up on the screen and appears to be correct. Cool, drive up to the second window please. Five minutes later, the two cars ahead of us are still there. Oh boy. What did we do to ourselves? We get to the window just in time to hear the well mannered woman working the window reprimanding a customer in her finest south side ghetto accent. She says, "Sir, I said just a minute! You need to be patient wif me. You are not the only customer I have. There be udders in front of you. I be right wif you when I can." At this time my wife and I are sitting there with our jaws hitting the floor. The woman looks at me and rambles something that resembles the dollar amount from the screen at the ordering speaker thingy. I handed her my debit card. She snatched it out of my hand and snaps,"Oh, you be payin' wif credit!?" I watch her go to the counter and bring up my order on the register, She then walks around the other side of the counter and swipes my card. Then, she has to go back to the register and press a button before she goes back to the other side of the counter to hit another button! Are you kidding? I'm afraid not. She gets done with the debit card shuffle and basically throws my card and receipt at me. Next comes the four OJ's. I only ordered three. Total time now is about twenty minutes. As I watching them put this order together, it doesn't seem right. I actually look at the receipt, and it is not what I ordered. I don't want to upset this person any more. Quite frankly, I'm afraid she will rip me out of my car and make me cry. So I say,"Ma'am, I know you are busy and all, but this is not what I ordered. I'm sorry" She snaps,"You sure? You was the only credit card I had." I told her what I had ordered, She snaps back,"When I axed you cash or credit, you say cash." I tried to let her know that nobody asked me anything about cash or credit. She is now raising her voice arguing with me. "I did too!" she said. Now, I'm the one that's pissed. I refuse to argue with this waste of oxygen. I would of just demanded my money back if I didn't think it would take another twenty five minutes for this absolute blubbering idiot figure out how to accomplish it. She now says," OK, dis what we gonna do. Ima give you back one dollar and fotey sick cent. You give me back one own juth (orange juice). Den, you gonna pull up and Ima do yo orda up." I pull up and Mrs. Mike get out and goes inside. She told me, they still didn't have the order right. They had to redo it three times. Thirty five minutes after we pulled in line, we were back on the road. We were still short three hash browns and ended up with an extra sandwich. Wow.

We still made it to the event on time. Mrs. Mike shed about six minutes off of last year's time. We had a great brunch at Flat Top Grill. We also got to come home and visit with family and watch some football. All in all, not too bad of a day.

Now that you've made your racial assumptions. The woman I was dealing with at McDonalds was white. It's not about color, it's about culture.

A weekend of the best kind

Yesterday, I had the most fun I've ever had golfing. It was my church's 17th annual golf outing. Church outings may not seem like much fun but this was different. I golfed with Union Man Dad and Mini Mike. This was the first time the three of us have golfed together. Three generations. Pretty cool. Mini Mike even won the "closest to the pin" hole. He was so happy and proud. Union Man Dad and I just beamed with pride, as well. So very cool. I hope to have some pics soon. We had some great fellowship afterwards at the church. We grilled some steaks, had a couple of beverages, and swapped some stories. Good time.

This was four years ago in the back yard. Union Man Dad gave Mini Mike his first set of clubs

Today, I woke Mrs. Mike up and she took off on a little run. I went out to shoot some arrows while Mini Mike rode his dirt bike. He broke his chain and I couldn't hit a buffalo at ten feet. So we went in to watch hunting shows and football. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, Mrs. Mike's little run was her 20 miler. I promised her some Cracker Barrel when she got back. She kicked ass. She may not be fast, but she just plugs away and never gives up.  Cracker Barrel is always good. After we got back, we all settled on the couch for some lazy time. I rubbed her feet and knees and life just continues to be good. So lucky, I am.

Scatter Blast

So, it has been two weeks since the last post. There has been lots to write about and not much time to do it.

Labor Day weekend was a blast. The whole family, including Mom & Dad, went to "The Farm" and the weather could not have been nicer. The Farm is a small piece of Heaven owned by my friends father-in-law. It is about forty acres sitting next to a forty acre pond about two hours from our house.. There are only two other property owners with land surrounding this pond. It is beautiful and seclusive. We try to get out and camp there five or six times a year, weather permitting. We also hunt there in the fall and winter. Anyway, about thirty five people camped Labor Day weekend. Kids got to swim, adults got to relax. We all got to do some fishing and we played some "Minute to Win it" games. A good time was had by all.

An old friend of mine contacted me and asked me if I would be interested in contributing to his blog. It is a full blown political blog. As interested as I may be in my conservative politics, I don't think I'm cut out for political commentary. I will probably say no for now. We will see what the future brings. I  need to take some grammar and punctuation classes.

I had to waste a personal day this week. I actually was sick. I had a sinus infection of the worst kind. My head felt like it was filled with lead shot and I had a low grade fever. I didn't see any sense in getting everybody else at work sick, so I stayed in bed for about twenty hours and stuck it out for the rest of the week. Feeling better, but, Mrs. Mike is catching it. This is NOT helping her marathon training. She's got twenty mile this Saturday, then she starts to taper down for the race on Oct. 10. Wish her luck.

Friday, my friend says to me, "What are you doing tomorrow?" I reply, "I dunno, why?" He says, "Wanna go to Eldora?" "Um, OK."   So, we leave about noon on Saturday for the four hour drive. We had a great time. I haven't been there since 2004. For those of you not familiar, this is the best dirt track in the world. That is FACT, not opinion. Since 2004, Tony Stewart bought the facility and improved perfection. So freakin cool. This weekend was the 40th Annual World 100 dirt late model race. There are usually over 200 cars trying to qualify for a spot in one of the six heat races. Each heat has twenty four cars and is 15 laps. No more boring details. Let me tell you, Billy Moyer and Scott Bloomquist put on an absolute dirt car clinic. I don't think these guys are human. The only clue was Billy Moyer had to race his way in to the main event through the last chance race. He started the main event 23rd and won! He is so smooth. You know, when you were a kid, and Grandpa would shift that old "three on the tree" Ford pickup and not spill a single drop of beer from the freshly opened can between his legs. That kind of smooth. Only these guys are doing it at about 140 m.p.h. and throwing it sideways and steering with their right foot at about 110 m.p.h. The only thing cooler on this track are winged sprint cars. I can't even begin to describe that.



Yep, that's a split arrow. Just like Robin Hood.

 My bow is tuned and ready. Six inch groups at 25 yards. Good enough for me. I cut and glued my own arrows this time. Not a big accomplishment, but it is my accomplishment. They came out nice and they fly straight and true. I'll keep shooting about a dozen or so arrows every night to keep the rust away. Opening day for deer is Oct. 1. It's time to stock the freezer. I hope my hunting gear still fits!

An old friend of mine gave me a plug a while ago. I call him Chief. His blogs are great and you will never regret checking in and reading his stuff. He had a nice write up about him in his local paper. He is one of the good ones your old goofy uncle tells you about. I have never met a better human being than he. Please check him out here. I plan to tell some stories of vacations that he took me and Surly on. Chief was a huge part of my adolescent life and one of the most influential persons of my past and future. Thank you, Sir.

Thanks for reading.

Trigger words

I think it's human nature to remember the good things from your childhood. It's funny how much you can forget about, and then one day, something pops into your head and it brings a smile to your face. This happened to me the other day. The word was Gooch. I heard someone say it on the radio.

As an only child of a single mother, I had the privilege of spending a lot of time with close relatives. I really do mean privilege. My mother was working her ass off to provide us our "three hots and a cot". We had lots of great relatives that were willing to help us out, all the time. They all helped me to become what I am today. So, if you don't like me, it's their fault. That was a (bad) joke.

I have lots of fond memories of my Aunt Diane. She is always so gentle and sweet and always full of love.. When she laughs, you can't help but to laugh with her. I can't remember ever seeing her mad. When I was a wee little boy, she used to take me everywhere. I will always remember her taking me to have picnics in the woods behind her house. Some may say this wasn't very manly. I disagree. She didn't know it, but, she was teaching me manliness by exposing me to some of the things I love most to this very day. I love the outdoors. Food always tastes better outside. I love to just sit and "shoot the breeze". What is better than sitting outside talking to a beautiful woman while eating some good food? I'll say, "Not too much".

I've had lots and lots of influences in my life. This was just one. I can't wait to remember more.
Thanks Aunt Diane. I sure do love you. Thank you.

Oh yeah, Aunt Diane had a cat named Gooch.