I have been doing quite a bit on Facebook lately. Posts here get copied over to there. So, those of you who follow my blog, also get to see it on Facebook (double the pleasure?).
Anyway, on Facebook, I did the 25 things post. Here was number 9:
9. For over 10 years, I thought my dad had shot my favorite dog in the garage of our house in Wyoming (Molly the Border Collie for those who knew her). I didn't miss that house at all when we moved shortly thereafter.
OK, so I hope I don't get a lot of flack about the fact that I also have a lovely and talented cousin named Molly. If I remember right, we had the dog before Molly was born. So, there is no relation to the name there. Just an amazing coincidence.
That said, Molly was the best dog in the world. Anytime I meet another dog, I compare it to her. She was the dog that helped raise me - not that I didn't have parents (my mom is the greatest). But she would keep me safe and out of trouble. When strangers would approach, she would stand between us kids and them. She wouldn't bark or growl unless the stranger came too quickly or got too close. She also kept us away from the horses - sometimes (I once got too curious and ended up right under one of them - laughing and playing in the grass). I am eager for my brothers to chime in as well - as my memories of her might have been over sweetened by made up stories I would tell myself about her.
So, my family got Molly while we lived in a small town in Idaho called Albion. We lived in a small house on a decent sized piece of land with horses, cows, and a large back yard. Molly was free to run as far as she pleased and was always around for her mealtime and when it was time for us to play.
My dad got a new job at a new bank opening in Green River, Wyoming. We packed up and moved East. We made some great friends there, but were happy to leave when the time came. While in Wyoming, we lived in a suburb type area and downgraded the size of our yard - which left Molly tied up to the side of the house. She did not like this. We did not like that she couldn't run freely and play like we used to.
I think she started getting cabin fever and we decided to get rid of her. Now, to a 3 year old boy, "getting rid" of a dog meant putting it to sleep. And you put it to sleep by shooting it (like a horse).
The last time I remember seeing Molly, my dad was taking her into the garage. Here is where my memory gets fuzzy. I don't know if I imagined him with his Winchester 30-30, if Aaron had the pellet gun in the garage at the same time (or even a different time), or if I simply made the story up.
But, after watching my dad take Molly into the garage, I never saw her again and assumed the worst. That's right. Mr daddy, in the garage, with the gun. It took me a while to willingly set foot in the garage again and I always considered it the place that my beloved dog was "got rid of."
As I got older, I wondered why anyone would shoot a dog in their own garage (imagine the mess). I also knew about animal shelters and what happened there to the unwanted and older dogs (much more humane than shooting them in a family's garage in most cases, or so I hear). This lead me to believe that Molly had been put to sleep in a calm, painless manner and was running around dog heaven with all the other good dogs (sniffing each other, barking at car shaped clouds, and eating rib bones for every meal!)
Notice how I never asked my parents what really happened to her... I think I was 15 or 16 before I finally got the real story on Molly. It was true that Molly wasn't happy being tied up. It was true that my dad took her into the garage (the gun story could not be confirmed or denied). In the garage, he loaded Molly into the family van or his truck and drove her away. Much to my surprise, he didn't take her to a pound to put her down or in hopes of an adopting family to take her home. Through one of his contacts from work, he found her a loving home with a big yard to run and play in. Or at least, that is what I think happened...
At any rate, I hope she made another family as happy as I was to have her in my family. She has likely passed on since then. I hope to be the one to feed her rib bones for every meal when my time comes.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
The Odyssey Home
My hot wife Kristine did a wonderful job detailing our awesome California trip last week. Her latest post reminded me that I should record my side of the story for anyone who is interested...
So, I begin after the security checkpoint part in Kristine's story. We needed something for the boys to drink, so I bought a $5 bottle of apple juice. While the guy was ringing me up, I heard my name called over the intercom. I gave the juice to Kristine and headed to the podium, where a large Polynesian woman with crazy unkempt hair greeted me. At that time, I was told that the flight had been overbooked and I would be denied boarding because I was the last to check in. I told the lady that it would not be possible for me to do this because I was traveling with my wife, a 3 year old, and an infant, so she would just have to find someone else. I then turned and walked away. She called to me saying that she had already assigned my seat to someone else. I turned around, in complete disbelief. She said that she had booked me on a flight that would leave around 6 that night from the Long Beach Airport and there was nothing else she could do.
I went back to Kristine and the boys and told her what had happened. Kristine described the rest...
After watching Kristine and the boys board the plane by themselves, I felt sick for her. All I could do was pray that they would arrive without incident and that the boys would behave on the flight. I watched the plane take off and approached the podium again to find out if there was anything else that could be done to get me home sooner.
I started making demands to be home at the same time my wife would be home (by air, land or sea). She said that was not possible.
Here's the dialog:
Me: "What do other airlines offer?"
Big Lady: "Uhmmm"
Me: "JetBlue. United. American. Us Air. Northwest."
Big Lady: [furious typing] "No, nothing before the flight you are booked on"
Me: "What about other airports?"
Big Lady: "Uhmmm, you mean like LAX?"
Me: "LAX. Burbank. John Wayne. Ontario."
Big Lady: [more furious tying] "LAX has one leaving at 5:30..."
Me: "Sand Diego. Las Vegas. Phoenix!"
Big Lady: "I booked you on a first class seat on the 5:30"
For those of you that fly often, you know what kind of computer systems these people use. Its like using DOS to lookup information. You have to know the commands and airport codes and memorize flight numbers and carrier codes. Don't these people know the power of Expedia?! If I would have had my computer handy, I would have found something better and faster - although I was glad that Kristine had it to entertain the boys. But I digress...
The lady was helpful. Not knowledgeable. Helpful. She did everything she knew how to get me on a different flight. I figured LAX would have the most flights coming out of it and it was my best chance of getting out of the LA area quickly.
They paid for the cab, gave me a $7.00 voucher for a late lunch (good luck getting lunch for less than $7 at an airport!), and "compensated" me for my troubles with a flight voucher for Delta.com.
I showed my transportation voucher to the first driver I found. He drove a van that specialized in transporting people between airports (obviously they had discovered a niche since airlines overbook so many flights). We waited about 5 minutes in case someone else showed up and left for LAX.
On the drive, I got a call from the talented and helpful Sister Theresa. She had heard that I had been kicked off of the plane! Another side note here: people only get kicked off of planes for being drunk and unruly, saying "bomb" on the plane (ala Ben Stiller in 'Meet the Parents'), or harassing a flight attendant. None of which I did, by the way...
I assured Theresa that I was denied boarding not because of my actions, but because the plane had been overbooked. She asked if she or her parents could help with anything. I told her that I was being treated VERY well and it was Kristine that needed help. She said they would forward the news and pray for her (which definitely helped).
Upon arriving to LAX, I was pretty upset. I was a man on a mission. I was going to beat Kristine home anyway I could! I beelined for the empty 'First Class Only' line and went straight to the counter of the first available ticket agent. This man was MUCH more helpful. Very professional and obviously knew his way around their computer system. He got me on an earlier flight (3:50), again first class with my choice of window or aisle. I asked if I could get access to the Crown Room for my troubles - to which he shook his head. VERY restricted access up there, I guess... Anyway, he got me on my way and I was satisfied with what I had (although disgruntled that I wouldn't beat Kristine home).
So, I grabbed some lunch and waited at the airport while reading a newspaper. After lunch, it dawned on me that Kristine would need help in SLC with the boys. So I called up Delta and asked if they could provide special assistance because of the situation they had put us in. The lady said she would put in a request for me. It made me feel better - even though I completely distrusted Delta at this point. But, I also knew that Tim would be there. He has always been a great neighbor and is always there to help.
So, I was sitting near the podium and one of the workers picked up the RED phone. I overheard a few things from her side of the conversation which included Guns N Roses and Slash and how she knew who they were. She set down the phone and said that Slash would be on this flight to her co-worker. They both just shrugged (as if they get stuff like this all the time - and it probably does from LAX).
So, we start boarding and I don't see Slash. They start boarding the 'dreadful peons' in the back, and still no Slash - but, there are two empty seats in first class. So, everyone starts getting comfortable 0 the elitists in the front get their drinks - and in walks Slash and his wife, Perla Ferrar. He had a baseball cap on backwards, hair in a pony tail, sunglasses on, and big dangly ear rings that would put any girl I know to shame. She looked, uhm, OK...?
They plop down and we take off. The only thing interesting out of the flight I saw was that Slash reads Motor Trend (one of my fav's) and Blender. His wife had her nose burried in Luxe and US Weekly (which I found kind of humorous - do you think she was looking for articles of herself in there? She seemed VERY interested in an article about Holly Madison and Hugh Hefner - two people she might possibly know).
Anyway, we land without incident. Slash stayed on the plane to be the last one off and I ran for the terminal exit to meet up with my family. On the way, I came across lots of popparotzi. Come On People! This is UTAH! Keep your annoying cameras in California!
Anyway, Kristine described the rest. It was SO good to be home. I was so happy that Kristine had help from Tim and Kim and her little brother.
Now, any questions?
So, I begin after the security checkpoint part in Kristine's story. We needed something for the boys to drink, so I bought a $5 bottle of apple juice. While the guy was ringing me up, I heard my name called over the intercom. I gave the juice to Kristine and headed to the podium, where a large Polynesian woman with crazy unkempt hair greeted me. At that time, I was told that the flight had been overbooked and I would be denied boarding because I was the last to check in. I told the lady that it would not be possible for me to do this because I was traveling with my wife, a 3 year old, and an infant, so she would just have to find someone else. I then turned and walked away. She called to me saying that she had already assigned my seat to someone else. I turned around, in complete disbelief. She said that she had booked me on a flight that would leave around 6 that night from the Long Beach Airport and there was nothing else she could do.
I went back to Kristine and the boys and told her what had happened. Kristine described the rest...
After watching Kristine and the boys board the plane by themselves, I felt sick for her. All I could do was pray that they would arrive without incident and that the boys would behave on the flight. I watched the plane take off and approached the podium again to find out if there was anything else that could be done to get me home sooner.
I started making demands to be home at the same time my wife would be home (by air, land or sea). She said that was not possible.
Here's the dialog:
Me: "What do other airlines offer?"
Big Lady: "Uhmmm"
Me: "JetBlue. United. American. Us Air. Northwest."
Big Lady: [furious typing] "No, nothing before the flight you are booked on"
Me: "What about other airports?"
Big Lady: "Uhmmm, you mean like LAX?"
Me: "LAX. Burbank. John Wayne. Ontario."
Big Lady: [more furious tying] "LAX has one leaving at 5:30..."
Me: "Sand Diego. Las Vegas. Phoenix!"
Big Lady: "I booked you on a first class seat on the 5:30"
For those of you that fly often, you know what kind of computer systems these people use. Its like using DOS to lookup information. You have to know the commands and airport codes and memorize flight numbers and carrier codes. Don't these people know the power of Expedia?! If I would have had my computer handy, I would have found something better and faster - although I was glad that Kristine had it to entertain the boys. But I digress...
The lady was helpful. Not knowledgeable. Helpful. She did everything she knew how to get me on a different flight. I figured LAX would have the most flights coming out of it and it was my best chance of getting out of the LA area quickly.
They paid for the cab, gave me a $7.00 voucher for a late lunch (good luck getting lunch for less than $7 at an airport!), and "compensated" me for my troubles with a flight voucher for Delta.com.
I showed my transportation voucher to the first driver I found. He drove a van that specialized in transporting people between airports (obviously they had discovered a niche since airlines overbook so many flights). We waited about 5 minutes in case someone else showed up and left for LAX.
On the drive, I got a call from the talented and helpful Sister Theresa. She had heard that I had been kicked off of the plane! Another side note here: people only get kicked off of planes for being drunk and unruly, saying "bomb" on the plane (ala Ben Stiller in 'Meet the Parents'), or harassing a flight attendant. None of which I did, by the way...
I assured Theresa that I was denied boarding not because of my actions, but because the plane had been overbooked. She asked if she or her parents could help with anything. I told her that I was being treated VERY well and it was Kristine that needed help. She said they would forward the news and pray for her (which definitely helped).
Upon arriving to LAX, I was pretty upset. I was a man on a mission. I was going to beat Kristine home anyway I could! I beelined for the empty 'First Class Only' line and went straight to the counter of the first available ticket agent. This man was MUCH more helpful. Very professional and obviously knew his way around their computer system. He got me on an earlier flight (3:50), again first class with my choice of window or aisle. I asked if I could get access to the Crown Room for my troubles - to which he shook his head. VERY restricted access up there, I guess... Anyway, he got me on my way and I was satisfied with what I had (although disgruntled that I wouldn't beat Kristine home).
So, I grabbed some lunch and waited at the airport while reading a newspaper. After lunch, it dawned on me that Kristine would need help in SLC with the boys. So I called up Delta and asked if they could provide special assistance because of the situation they had put us in. The lady said she would put in a request for me. It made me feel better - even though I completely distrusted Delta at this point. But, I also knew that Tim would be there. He has always been a great neighbor and is always there to help.
So, I was sitting near the podium and one of the workers picked up the RED phone. I overheard a few things from her side of the conversation which included Guns N Roses and Slash and how she knew who they were. She set down the phone and said that Slash would be on this flight to her co-worker. They both just shrugged (as if they get stuff like this all the time - and it probably does from LAX).
So, we start boarding and I don't see Slash. They start boarding the 'dreadful peons' in the back, and still no Slash - but, there are two empty seats in first class. So, everyone starts getting comfortable 0 the elitists in the front get their drinks - and in walks Slash and his wife, Perla Ferrar. He had a baseball cap on backwards, hair in a pony tail, sunglasses on, and big dangly ear rings that would put any girl I know to shame. She looked, uhm, OK...?
They plop down and we take off. The only thing interesting out of the flight I saw was that Slash reads Motor Trend (one of my fav's) and Blender. His wife had her nose burried in Luxe and US Weekly (which I found kind of humorous - do you think she was looking for articles of herself in there? She seemed VERY interested in an article about Holly Madison and Hugh Hefner - two people she might possibly know).
Anyway, we land without incident. Slash stayed on the plane to be the last one off and I ran for the terminal exit to meet up with my family. On the way, I came across lots of popparotzi. Come On People! This is UTAH! Keep your annoying cameras in California!
Anyway, Kristine described the rest. It was SO good to be home. I was so happy that Kristine had help from Tim and Kim and her little brother.
Now, any questions?
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
WaWa
I heard an ad on the radio for this coffee place and I wanted to get some feedback.
Wawa Coffee
I am thinking of contacting their corporate headquarters for an emergency marketing re-branding (including a most important name change).
Some background. My mom refused to call urine 'pee' when we were kids. In a family of 6 boys, this is quite a feat. So, when we needed to go 'number 1' we would call it 'wa-wa'.
I love my mom almost as much as I love my hot wife, so I don't mean to say anything bad about her. Especially since she was only seeking good manners for us boys in the event we needed to 'go wawa' at church or some other high society function.
Did anyone else do this? Were we the only backwards Idaho hicks who thought this was normal?
This news article leads me to believe that we either weren't the only ones or this is an unfortunate coincidence for the people of Wawa, Ontario, Canada...
Pee bottles an unsightly 'insult' to people in Wawa
At any rate, you can see how I am concerned about how the Wawa company is brewing their coffee. I am also concerned about the health of its customers.
I'm not a coffee drinker - although I do enjoy the smell of a fresh brewed pot. So, I am at a loss here. Are there any coffee drinkers out there that enjoy a nice, steaming, freshly brewed pot of Wawa?
A side note - Wawa makes a Smooth and Mellow brew. Jokes are bouncing around in my head, but nothing is formulating here...
Wawa Coffee
I am thinking of contacting their corporate headquarters for an emergency marketing re-branding (including a most important name change).
Some background. My mom refused to call urine 'pee' when we were kids. In a family of 6 boys, this is quite a feat. So, when we needed to go 'number 1' we would call it 'wa-wa'.
I love my mom almost as much as I love my hot wife, so I don't mean to say anything bad about her. Especially since she was only seeking good manners for us boys in the event we needed to 'go wawa' at church or some other high society function.
Did anyone else do this? Were we the only backwards Idaho hicks who thought this was normal?
This news article leads me to believe that we either weren't the only ones or this is an unfortunate coincidence for the people of Wawa, Ontario, Canada...
Pee bottles an unsightly 'insult' to people in Wawa
At any rate, you can see how I am concerned about how the Wawa company is brewing their coffee. I am also concerned about the health of its customers.
I'm not a coffee drinker - although I do enjoy the smell of a fresh brewed pot. So, I am at a loss here. Are there any coffee drinkers out there that enjoy a nice, steaming, freshly brewed pot of Wawa?
A side note - Wawa makes a Smooth and Mellow brew. Jokes are bouncing around in my head, but nothing is formulating here...
Shaving or Cutting Onions? Hmmm...
I HATE shaving. I HATE it. I hate IT. I HATE IT!
Therefore, I don't do it often. I know, I know - the less often I do it, the more it hurts and the harder it is on my sensitive skin - yada yada yada...
But, I would rather go through agony only once per week (typically Sunday morning) than go through this idiotic ritual everyday.
SO! I am a man who looks at problems and eagerly tries to find the best solution (for me - not necessarily for anyone else). This past Christmas, I added a Norelco razor to my Christmas list. My fabulous in-laws got me one of these:
It is such a great razor. Here are the things that make it great:
- My previous Norelco assumed that I was shaving once per day. It had nothing on it to take care of the longer whiskers. The new razor has bigger holes to cut the long ones down a bit before the smaller blades come in and take care of the stubble.
- On Christmas Day (December 25th for you heathens), I gave my razor a full charge. I haven't charged it since then. I can't think of anything I own that I haven't had to recharge for an entire month!
- It is SO fast! My previous Norelco was nice, but it assumed I had a square face. So, I had to do each area individually (cheeks, then lip, then chin, then neck section 1, neck section 2, neck section 3, then that funny bit between the neck and cheek.) For this reason I switched to a Gillette Mach 3. I got a closer shave (sometimes too close) and I could shave less often. My NEW razor bends inward and outward to get everything. I can get my cheek, chin, and neck in a single pass. This probably adds to the battery efficiency since I don't have to have it turned on as long as my previous razor...
I love this thing. Kristine loves that I am not scratchy which leads to more kissing. And we all know what that leads to...
Monday, January 19, 2009
Benjamin Franklin's Thirteen Virtues
I heard these on The Glenn Beck Program this morning and thought we could all be better people if we applied them.
Good words to live by!
| 1. TEMPERANCE. | Eat not to dullness; drink not to elevation. |
| 2. SILENCE. | Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself; avoid trifling conversation. |
| 3. ORDER. | Let all your things have their places; let each part of your business have its time. |
| 4. RESOLUTION. | Resolve to perform what you ought; perform without fail what you resolve. |
| 5. FRUGALITY. | Make no expense but to do good to others or yourself; i.e., waste nothing. |
| 6. INDUSTRY. | Lose no time; be always employ'd in something useful; cut off all unnecessary actions. |
| 7. SINCERITY. | Use no hurtful deceit; think innocently and justly, and, if you speak, speak accordingly. |
| 8. JUSTICE. | Wrong none by doing injuries, or omitting the benefits that are your duty. |
| 9. MODERATION. | Avoid extreams; forbear resenting injuries so much as you think they deserve. |
| 10. CLEANLINESS. | Tolerate no uncleanliness in body, cloaths, or habitation. |
| 11.TRANQUILLITY. | Be not disturbed at trifles, or at accidents common or unavoidable. |
| 12. CHASTITY. | Rarely use venery but for health or offspring, never to dulness, weakness, or the injury of your own or another's peace or reputation. |
| 13. HUMILITY. | Imitate Jesus and Socrates. |
Good words to live by!
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