Kinect-ed.

Just used Microsoft's Kinect for the first time last night.

It's fun and the games are almost Nintendo-ish in their hokeyness. However the fact that you don't have a controller to hold while you are doing all the strange gyrations is a bonus.

I also think that as much as some people like Wii Fit, the Kinect kicks ass based on the simple fact of its ability to give feedback on posture and such during an exercise - it busted me for not going low enough on my lunges. And with Kinect, you can't fake running by shaking the controller - get those knees up, people, or else you crawl along like a snail.

I do wish you could do more with it voice wise, though. As cool as it was to have it listen when you want to switch things around, it would be awesome if it could adjust things like volume or turn on and off by voice. I'm sure there will be some sort of update eventually that would take care of that.

So far the shine is still on the apple, so I'm sure you will eventually hear me bitching about it. But for now its a great way to keep myself and the kids active and moving on the days its too shitty to go outside. It will never replace the gym or my running shoes, but I don't want them replaced anyway.

So if you walk by my house and it looks like I'm having a seizure in front of my tv, don't worry - its just Kinect.

Later.

Check How You Roll.

If there is any place that my OCD goes into overdrive, it's the bathroom.

It's not like I wipe my ass 6000 times or anything like that , but my frustration does come from the room's paper product.

It's not the whole over/under thing with the TP, either. People who get pissed at that shit need to loosen up and relax.

My issue is with the lazy fuckers who can't be bothered to put it on the dispenser in the first place - it puts me into an almost apolexic-type rage.

I mean, really - how hard is it to just take off and throw out the old roll and put another one on? You've gone to the trouble of getting a new roll - take the plunge and finish the job - it's not Rocket science, people.

What gets me is that this isn't just an occurance where I work - its in almost every bathroom I've seen, including my own home. (Which is why it drives me nuts so bad.)

I'm thinking that if you can't be responsible enough to put the TP in it's proper place, you shouldn't be able to use it at all. I'm sure a couple of days of wiping your ass with your hand would teach you a lesson.

My main worry with that plan is that if you are too lazy to put the roll on, you're too lazy to wash your hands.

....but that's a whole other blog post.

Later.

I Feel:

- That the day couldn't get any longer if you tied bricks to the clock.
- That making up your own metaphors sucks, and should be left to the professionals.
- That the sight of a good pair of yoga pants makes any run easier.
- That trying to reason with a 5 year old is like trying to stuff a cat into a Coke bottle.
- That I seriously need help, metaphor wise.
- That while I accept and enjoy the choices I've made in life, having the Sidekick text me from the strip bar when surrounded by women makes me wish I'd stopped aging at 25.
- That if my bald spot gets any bigger, it means the terrorists are winning.
- That it takes a lot to build up to the speed I used to run at - right now, I could probably outrun a homeless guy.
- ....Unless he got some shoes in the riot - then I might have trouble.
- That I think the thing I miss the most would be the things I can't remember.

Later.

Reassessment.

Normally I think Horoscopes are shit, but much like a car accident, I can't look away.

The person who normally writes the horoscope in the paper I read usually puts some cliched, trite quip in the parentheses at the end of the horoscope, and I always just roll my eyes and think mean thoughts about her level of intelligence.

But the fact that she ended today with a quote from one of my favorite movies just moved her up in my estimation.

Congratulations, Horoscope Lady - I only think you're a cheap scammer instead of a retarded cheap scammer. Good for you.

Later.

On Fatherhood.

I won't lie, there's times when being a Dad is the most balls-out, greatest experience ever.

It's having your boy throw that first perfect spiral to you, having them pedal their bikes beside you as you go for a run, playing in the pool, riding go-karts, watching a movie, and just having two people out there who think I am the most brilliant guy in the world.

It's watching them grow and accomplish things on their own - from making it to the other side of the pool during swimming lessons, to scoring that first goal on the ice. And finding out that they excel in areas you never did (like math).

It's having them think that no matter what job you do, its the greatest job in the world because you do it.

There are two things that will happen to you every day that you are a Dad - your kids will piss you off, and they'll amaze you at the same time.

So far, that 50/50 balance is alright by me.

Later.

Fatty Fortune.

See these?


We just got them in the store today.

It seems to me that the cookie has disappeared and is now just a chocolate delivery system.

Needless to say, they will probably be a big hit with the local fatties. (As a former fatty, I can attest to this fact.)

I will attempt to be on the other side of the aisle anytime I have to walk by them. Partially to escape temptation, but also to avoid the obese wave that will surely come crashing through the cookie aside and possibly swamp the chip aisle as well.

Betcha didn't know my job was so dangerous, huh?



Later.

Modern Stupidity.

Dear Vancouver Rioters:

I'd just like to throw my opinion in with everyone else's and agree that what you accomplished Wednesday night in Vancouver was disrespectful, shameful, and an embarrassment not just to Vancouverites and British Columbians but to Canadians everywhere.

I'd also like to add that I think you're a bunch of fucking retards.

Like most yesterday, I spent some time online and was repeatedly astounded by the fact that you thought being part of the mob gave you anonymity, and somehow either didn't notice all the cameras and cellphones around, or didn't think they would be used against you. What shocked me even more was that some of you bragged to others on Facebook or Twitter about your endeavours.

How stupid are you? I know you're dumb enough to take part in a riot and destroy and steal things, but where in the world do you get off thinking it ups your social standing to brag about it?

Unfortunately, I guess it does, because the amount of "right on" replys to some of the posts were adding up - at least until someone with some sense told you that saying stuff like that on Facebook is the equivalent of standing on your front lawn and yelling what you did.

But you will get caught. This isn't something that will just "go away" - people can't help but see the pictures and video, and even though you aren't ashamed at what you did, someone you know will see you, and they will be ashamed enough for both of you and turn you in.

Luckily for you, our justice system is such that you will just get a slap on the wrist, but thankfully, a criminal record follows you everywhere - I'm sure disclosing to potential employers or others what you were charged for will have to do for social punishment.

I'd like to close by saying it again: you're a bunch of fucking retards.

Fuck you very much.

Later.

Dignified.

I'm surprised with myself.

I took the weed whacker out to the backyard today.

That in itself is not surprising.

The fact that I was out there for a whole hour - sweating, grunting, and taming that wild brush - and yet it was another whole hour before I tweeted something vagina-related (and classily mentioned 70's porn) is.

Just goes to show how mature I've become.




Later.

4 Miles.

4 miles.

That's 7040 yards, 21120 feet, 6437 meters, 253440 inches, 1.3 leagues,...

(You get my point.)

Eight months ago I would have done 4 miles and laughed at how easy it was - it was something done on a lunch break, as natural as warming up soup in the microwave at work.

But since then, I'd let myself slip - missing runs, putting things ahead of what I wanted to be doing and just not feeling the passion for running that I once did.

As I said in an earlier post, the Royal Victoria is 16 weeks out and I want to be ready for it. That was the first race I'd ever had that I didn't improve upon my time - looking back, I took that harder than I thought and without realizing it, I just gave up.

That's not like me.

The 4 miles I did today felt much like the miles I did years ago when I first strapped the shoes on my feet and ran for myself, rather than running for the sake of getting my face close to the food.

It felt good.
I felt better.
I felt like myself.

I'm not going to let that go.





Later.

Come Home Stanley.

I'm not one to say that any Canadian team in the Stanley Cup Final is automatically "Canada's Team", but I'd be hard pressed not to cheer for the Vancouver Canucks as they face the Bruins tonight, with a chance to take home Canada's first Cup since 1993.

I cheered for Edmonton, Calgary, and yes, even Ottawa when they had a chance to bring the Cup back to Canada.

I can understand those who have been die-hard Boston fans for years not cheering, and I respect them in their conviction. I know if it was the Avs playing against Vancouver I would be singing a slightly different tune.

But if you like Hockey and love your country, you gotta want the Cup to be up North - our drought has been too long.

And anyway, Colorado is going to dominate and win it next year, so if they don't do it now we'll be waiting even longer.

(See how optimistic I am for my team? Now that's a fan.)

Later.

Lyrical Summer.

I'm really looking forward to this summer.

There's the obvious things -like getting to do fun stuff with my kids, day trips to Parksville, Go-Karts, and hikes - to the little things like just being able to go for a nice long run on a sunny day.

But I'm really looking forward to a couple of concerts that the Sidekick and I are going to in Victoria:

John Butler Trio - this one is in August, it's a band I really like, and the fact that its Victoria in the summer is a plus.

Sam Roberts - sure, this one is in October, but whatever, I've wanted to see them for ages, and they are one of the bands that I have always said I would see if I had a chance.

I'm stoked for both of these, and have already started to filter random tunes by each back into my musical rotation - I'm that fucker who sings along at times, and there's no way I'm going to mess up any words. (Concert faux pas!)

Try not to be too envious, and I'll try not to rub it in too much.
(Who am I kidding? I'll rub it in every chance I get.)

Later.

Put Up or Shut Up.

As of tomorrow, the Royal Victoria Marathon is 16 weeks away.

While I'm not doing the Marathon this year, I am planning on doing the Half, if only to make up for my abysmal performance last year (1:39:00). I know some might think that was a good time, but it was one I wasn't really happy with, and I want to rectify that.

So its time to get back on the horse and get going.

Wish me luck - I think I'm going to need it.

Later.

Stretched Out.

So I had a free moment the other day, and feeling a little tight after my run, I decided to try something different to work out the kinks.

Yoga.

Please, don't laugh.

I had a DVD that I got for the Wife at Christmas, so I grabbed the yoga mat, threw the disc in and went to town.

Yoga is fucking hard.

It's an introductory disc, so it started out with stretching and stuff - felt great. I'll admit - as it moved on into explaining some of the poses and flows and shit, I stayed with the "easy" level - but even on easy, it's hard. I'm not the most flexible of guys, and the flexibility is only part of it - you have to have balance and core strength to boot.

As I did the stretching afterwards, I knew I was going to feel that soreness the next day - that good ache that tells you that you had a great workout.

I may not do it everyday, but I think incorporating yoga into my running schedule can only be a good thing.

Just give me a while before you look at me doing it - right now I feel as graceful as a Orca doing hurdles on dry ground.

Later.

Trouble Overhead.

The radio at work usually sucks, and I'm not just talking about the content. (Do they really need to play the Hip so much?)

The Worksite is located in what I refer to as "Where signals go to die" - cellphones, AM/FM radio, all of it is scratchy and inconsistent.

Because certain radio stations fade in and out, we find that we are changing to a different station at least once a day. No matter which one, it eventually goes to static and we switch again.

And that's where the fun comes in.

Periodically, one of the local FM station's signal will be overpowered by what I believe is a station from Seattle. It's hard to notice the change at first, because the music that's played on both stations is relativity similar.

It's the DJ's that make the difference.

After a music set had ended last week, the DJ's started talking, and since they usually prattle on about local, small town stuff, I generally tune them out until the next song comes on. So needless to say, my attention was focused elsewhere during their conversation.

Until I heard the word "Laibia".
Of course, this got my attention.

Turns out the station had slipped over to the Seattle one, and the DJ's were having a conversation about personal grooming, tattoos, and peircings. It seemed to be an interesting and heated conversation, one that I would have gladly kept listening to.

But instead, I was running up the stairs two at a time, hoping to change the station before any of our elderly customers clued in that the "hood" the DJ's were talking about wasn't a piece of clothing.

I just made it in time, as I'm sure I heard the phrase "Prince Albert" uttered before I hit the button.

I'm hoping our customers just thought someone was still talking about the Royal Wedding.

That seems plausible, right? Right?

Later.

Obviously Not Decaf.

Coffee coffee coffee.

Coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee.

Coffeecoffeecoffeecoffeecoffeecoffee.

Coffeecoffeecoffeecoffee.

Fuck I have to pee.

Later.

Episode 6 - Rambling About Midlife.

I present to you Midlife Ramblers Episode 6.

In which we discuss many things, from the day I was born to how to wrap up this crazy thing we've been doing. (And the hope we can do more.)




Savor this one, people, it might be the last for a while.

Enjoy, and as always, comments are our bread and butter.


Later.

Working Class Heroes.

I got called into work the other day, and because my days off are the days that I watch the kids, I had to bring my youngest in with me for a half day.

And if you do something for one....you have to do it for the other, so today I had my oldest doing half a shift with me.

My kids are a blast at work.

They are both great helpers, incredibly attentive, and they think I'm the greatest boss in the world (they're right). I have so much fun with them that I don't even notice how fast the day flies by. And we get lots of positive compliments from the customers, who think it's pretty cool.

Of course, the half day is done, and I'm sure the rest of the shift is going to drag on (since I'm missing the hockey game too).

Maybe I can call them back and have them finish off the shift...

Later.

Seeking Solitude.

Today is a day where all I want to do is chill out, enjoy my lunch break (or dinner break, whatever), compose my thoughts and blog.

...and of course every single person that comes within 15 feet of me wants to have an in-depth conversation about whatever is on their mind.

It's hard to balance out politely ending what could be a long conversation and restraining myself from stabbing them with my pen.

Right now I think the latter is winning.

Later.

Plastic Extension.

I was working on the till for a bit today, and something occurred to me:

As men, we treat our debit/credit cards a lot like our dicks, and I think the way we act during a transaction says a lot about us.

Every guy that I served today had their card in their hand, jammed it into the card reader, and couldn't wait to remove it. As for swiping, they would do it upside down, ram it back and forth, and pocket it again as soon as possible. The receipt? Forget it, crumple it and throw it out - they don't want it at all.

The ladies, on the other hand, are completely different - they have their card tucked in a purse or wallet, handle it gently, and wait until the appropriate time before sliding their card in. When the transaction is over they neatly put their card away, wait for the receipt, and proceed on their way.

Quite the difference.

I'll admit, there were people from each gender who acted like the other, but those were few and far between.

Now I'm sure there's a ton of generalizations you could infer from these observations, and the fact that I immediately went to something sexual with the thought says something about me as well, I'm sure. ( I immediately went with the card/cardreader, tab a/slot b idea.)

But if I've thought it, I'm sure some other cashier/clerk/waitress/whatever has as well. So the next time I'm being served, I'm going to treat my card with some respect, not jam it into the reader, and show a little tenderness when finishing the transaction.

I suggest you do the same - can't hurt, right?
(Unless you meet someone who likes their debit machine handled roughly, then go ahead.)

Later.

Canuck Fever. (Or,Take 2 Bandwagons & Call Me In The Morning.)

You know, I was going to do a big ranty post about the Canucks being in the Stanley Cup Final (good) and all the bandwagon jumping that politicians and businesses are doing to cash in on the success and milk it for all it's worth (bad).

But then I decided that if you just finished reading the previous sentence you pretty much got the gist of what I was saying, and I really shouldn't have to elaborate, right?

That's what I thought.

I'm going to take a nap now.

Later.

Introductions Are In Order.

Right now, as I type this, "Tired of Waiting" by the Trews is playing on the radio here at work, and it started me thinking:

What was the "introductory" song for some of the bands you enjoy?

For me, I heard "Tired of Waiting" and immediately liked it, which prompted me to research and learn more about the band, and they have remained a favorite ever since.

So what song did it for ya? What hooked you?

What got me into Pearl Jam wasn't "Jeremy" or "Alive" - back then I couldn't stand Eddie and the boys -  it was hearing "Dissident" at a concert with the Sidekick that showed me what I was missing.

Believe it or not, but "Big Me" wasn't the song that made me dig the Foo - it was "This is a Call" - but the cheesy Mentos-style video did help Dave cement a place in my heart.

For KOL it was "Fans" - something about the pace, the beat, just the uniqueness of the song made me realize that sometimes it's good to pay attention to some of the stuff the Sidekick talks about.

For Pink Floyd, it was "Mother" - for Zeppelin, "The Ocean" - Kiss had "Deuce", and The Beatles was "When I'm 64".

That's all I can think of for now, but I'm sure there are more. Put yours in the comments - It would be cool to hear them.

Later.

Episode 5 - Kirk Cameron Can Suck My Balls.

Once again into the breech, my friends - where we discuss religion, rapture, dickheads, dreamboats, housekeepers, and examine the Sidekick's reaction to being asked if he's from another country.

Please enjoy Midlife Rambler's Episode 5.



And remember - we love feedback like fatty kids love Rice Krispy Squares.




Later.

About Last Night....

There was a Poker Game.

There was Gin.

There was fun conversation with people I actually enjoy being around.

There was more Gin.

There were great fluctuations in the size of my chip stack.

There was even more Gin.

There were Chicken Wings. (Washed down with Gin.)

There were winners and losers, sharks and fish.

There was a fucking good time at my house last night.

And it was sweet.

Forty is going to be crazy, my friends, so having a nice, easy Thirty-nine was kinda nice.

Later.

Thirty-Nine

- An awesome Roman numeral, (XXXIX), if that "I" didn't get in there and fuck up the symmetry.
- An unlucky number in Afghan numerology, and I know at least one guy in the west who isn't thrilled with it either.
- Title of a song by the Cure, but they suck and no one cares.
- The atomic number of yttrium, which sounds like something George Lucas would have made up - still better than "midichlorions".
- Jersey number of Johan Franzen, Doug Gilmour, Doug Weight, Domink Hasek, Christobal Huet, and a fuckton of other NHL'ers you've never heard of.
- Number of Articles for something to do with the Catholics, I think - can't spend all my time on Wikipedia, people.
- Number of feet in the pole that they wouldn't touch the Grinch with. (I know it's 39.5, I rounded down, alright?)
- Anniversary number in which the gift is "lace". If I'm married for that long, I hope the only lace is a doily on my casket.
- Where "I Won't Let Go" by Rascal Flatts currently sits on the Billboard hot 100. Obviously shows Billboard doesn't know shit if crap like that charts that high.
- How many years old the oldest cat in the world is. (Can someone other than me please make an "old pussy" joke?)

Oh yeah - it's also how old I am today.
Woooooo. (Can you read sarcasm?)

Later.

Trafficking.

I must have pleased someone in Blogger's upper echelon.

For some reason in the past 3 weeks, the amount of traffic coming to look at my little corner of the Internet has almost tripled.

I was going to say that it must have something to do with me being fantastically hilarious, that people can't get enough of the Sidekick's witty banter during the weekly podcast, or that word of mouth had gotten out about how fucking cool this place is, but then reality kicked in and I took a look at the facts.

Most of the people who look here come from that little button at the top of your screen that says "Next Blog". They are just people who are cruising Blogger and hoping something jumps out and interests them.

So it turns out that instead of being a place that people hear about and seek out, I'm more like a humorous homeless guy you stumbled upon while out for a stroll. (Dance, monkey! Dance!)

So it turns out that Blogger is just the ones directing traffic towards my corner, probably just a temporary thing until the Internet hiccups again and this place gets as popular as a ghost town.

But whatever - I'm just glad people are reading/listening. I just hope Blogger doesn't expect any "favors" in return - I love this place, but I'm not takin a shot in the mouth for it. (eeeew)

Later.

Random Thoughts

- As much as I dig the rural area I work in, when the wind is blowing right and the smell of cowshit drifts in from down the road, I fucking hate it here.
- I bet even Supermodels would look bad if you took a picture of them on the toilet. (What? Everybody poops.)
- There will be a time, many years in the future, when even Vampire Weekend is considered "Classic Rock".
- If Chad Kroeger pays his ex $25000.00 a month, and say he got a blowjob every day, each year they were together, it works out to $821.76/blowjob. I'm no rockstar, but I get that shit for free.
- The first day of working without having to wear ties is fucking sweet.
- As I grow older, I like the things I used to hate, at least food-wise. So I imagine that right before I die, I'll finally like peas.

Later.

Episode 4 - Attack of the Annoying Background Hiss.

I know - I'm just as amazed as you are that we keep churning these things out.

Please enjoy Midlife Ramblers, Episode 4 - in which we cover musical tastes, as well as the other random shit we talk about.






As always, feedback is more than welcome - it's a downright necessity.



Later.

$35,000,000.00

Thirty-five million dollars.

Someone in my hometown won the Lotto Max, and is now a multi-millionaire. Am I envious? Hell yes - money may not buy happiness, but it buys piece of mind, and I'm good with that.

No one knows who the winner is yet, but I can see it going in a couple of directions:

- Someone who deserves to win, needs the money, and will use it to help themselves and others. (Note: least possible outcome.)
- A group of people who work together, who will be unable to touch the money because of legal issues arriving from a suit brought by the co-workers who weren't in on it.
- An elderly couple with no kids or other family who are 5 days from death's door, and will leave it all to the church or their cat, Mr. Puddles.
- Someone who will use the money foolishly, act like a retard, and be destitute and on the street in 3 years.
- Someone who already has more money than they need or know what to do with, who just plays the Lotto to sustain their gambling addiction.

It may sound bitter,but I'm pretty sure I'm right. We'll just have to wait and see.

But if you know (or are) the winner, there's this sweet little blog/podcast that could use a sponsor....

Later.

I Feel:

- That the Rapture hype is waaay overrated.
- That if all the "do-gooders" do go up, it means the rest of us can stay down here and get our freak on.
- That if I was preaching about the end of the world, I'd give myself a more vague date. If it doesn't go down, some people are going to be looking prrrreeety stupid.
- That if I could, I'd record a podcast almost every day.
- That the punishment for disturbing me while I'm on my lunch should be something medieval, and painful.
- That, if I'm going to be honest, I'd rather see penalty-box tits then the Green Men any day. (Google it and compare for yourself - you'll see I'm right.)
- That if I have to explain the joke to you, its my mistake for telling someone something when I didn't realize they were an idiot.
- That I sound like a bitter, bitter man at times. But that's what this place is for, right?

Later.

Iron = Ink.

I noticed something at the gym today.

Of the 6 guys ( 7, inc. me.) that were working out at the same time, there was only 1 guy who didn't have at least one tattoo. Heck, two of the guys had complete sleeves, and another was well on his way. (The one guy without? Had to be at least 70.)

I understand the desire to decorate the body you've worked so hard to achieve, but it's getting a bit ridiculous. I'm waiting for the day when I walk into the gym and there's a guy covered head to toe in ink and working out in a thong. (Please never happen.)  It's gotta stop sometime.

..except for the girl with the Tramp Stamp on the stairclimber in front of me. Stay where you are, and don't ever change.

Later.

Vocal Letdown

I'm listening to the rough, rough, rough, draft of the latest podcast that the Sidekick and I recorded.

The first couple of podcasts we did, I had a bitchin' chest cold. As I stated before, I felt I sounded like a male Kathleen Turner. Now that the cold is gone, and my voice is back to normal, I've decided that as much as some may think I sound like Ewan McGregor, I personally don't like the sound of my voice.

I knew I didn't have the most powerful voice, and I'm okay with that. But I think I sound like some guy who's balls haven't dropped yet.

Trust me, they have.

Listen to the next podcast when it's up - (Please! Just listen!) and let me know what you think. I just realized that I even pseudo-sing at times, so prepare to be shocked.

If you're ears start to bleed, don't blame me.

Later.

Outside Influence.

It's amazing how the weather outside affects the personality and behavior of the general public.

It was clear outside when I came to work, but judging by the people I've had to deal with today, I would gather that it's a massive downpour of assholes out there.

Cloudy with a chance of shitheads, maybe?

Just sayin'.

Later.

Episode 3 - Editing Nightmare

This week's Episode - Where trains of thought get lost and found, and The Sidekick shows his wicked-cool editing skills.

Please enjoy Midlife Ramblers Episode 3.






Feedback is always welcome.




Later

Observations Part Deux

- Watching someone take pictures of things in a magazine - pretend vacation, maybe? Crazy but cheap.
- The Sidekick went to the local watering hole/stomping grounds - I think his disappointment was not that it hasn't really changed, but that they probably handed him the same dirty glass he had the last time he was there.
- I believe that there's a place for everything, and everything has it's place - unfortunately, there are people around me who think elves appear at night and magically put shit away.
- Much like the Sidekick is a beer snob, I am a coffee snob - and sampling the crap we brew here at work is like making him drink mud that's been filtered through a German's socks and calling it beer.
- Listening to Motley Crue while working is like a painful flashback. Fond memories, but it hurts my ears.
- I find Twitter to be equal amounts of witty, insightful comments and news, and pure, unadulterated stupidity.
- At least 50% of the stupidity is funny, so I can deal with it.
- If the world suddenly produced a Cat made out of Bacon, the Internet would explode.

Later.

General Observations

- People (the general public) are insensitive, self-absorbed, and ignorant.
- The fact that the Tim Hortons drive-thru makes me feel that way about my fellow humans is quite sad, really.
- The more time I spend at the pool, the more I have Waterworld fantasies. (minus Kevin Costner)
- Right when you don't want them to, the dog pisses on the carpet.
- The fact that the first thought I have when you say "Escape from New York" is of Adrienne Barbeau's sweet cleavage says a lot about me.
- .....and now it's your mental picture too.
- I still think Crocs are the shittiest shoes ever.
- My phone's autocorrect feature actively hates me, and is hell-bent on making me look retarded or more perverse than I am.
- That being said, I can understand it not being able to grasp the subtle infections of "horsedonkeymonkeycock".
- Flip flops are g-strings for your toes.
- "Bob's your uncle." is a really weird saying when you actually have an Uncle named Bob. It's like, "I know, motherfucker, why do you keep telling me?"
- Soon they will market "American History X" as a Kinect game for the 360 - Neo-nazis will rejoice at unlocking the "curb stomp" feature.
- I'm a lot more jaded when my caffeine ratio is measured in cups, instead of hogsheads. (I'm ol'skool, yo.)

Later.

I Feel:

- That sometimes I wish I could bring a blunt, heavy object to work...y'know, for science.
- That the title of the experiment would be "Instantaneous Negative Reinforcement and it's Impact on the Stupid People Around You."
- That watching the Canucks in the 3rd Period of any playoff game fills me with more doubt than hope.
- That when the Sports Media refers to a 36 year-old guy as "old" and "nearing the end of his career" it makes me want to cry.
- That I enjoy the weekly Podcast so much that it could almost be addictive.
- That watching "A Game of Thrones" on HBO is a guilty pleasure that I don't feel guilty about at all.
- That, like a 16 year-old boy, the new Lonely Island cd made me laugh my ass off.
- That the Thor movie made me more hopeful for the Avengers movie than anything Marvel had put out before.
- That I've come to treasure sleep and coffee almost as much as I treasured sex and booze when I was in my teens.
- That if we are being honest, I'm still a really big fan of sex and booze.

Later.

Re-Alignment

In some ways, I'm a very progressive person. I think change is good, evolution a fact, and that entropy is what drives the universe.

Except when it comes to my section at work.

That's when my attitude changes to "It ain't broke, why fix it?" - its not that I mind the work involved in relineing everything, it's just that I see no reason to mess with my perfectly good system. It's like someone is forcing their way into my bureau at home, and changing where I put my underwear.

Not a pleasant picture, is it?
I didn't think so.

Later.

Episode 2 - Yes, We Did It Again.

It was so nice, we've done it twice.

May I present Midlife Ramblers Episode 2.




Feedback is always welcome.



Later.

Unwanted

Some things should not be seen.

Walking around the corner at work, and there is a huge (like seriously, huuuuge) lady with bikini bottoms on bending over to place something on the bottom of her cart.

I can't give you much more information than that because my brain immediately started shutting down as a precautionary measure and I lost vision in my right eye.

I'm glad I was able to contain my gag reflex and somehow make it to safety.

It'll haunt me. (Oh my God....the tassels...)

Later.

The Other National Holiday.

Today is The Sidekick's Birthday.

For the 2nd year in a row, I have been unable to attend, due to work and family commitments.

It kinda passes me off.

The Sidekick's B-day was always the one day a year that was no-strings-attached. My wife understood - hell, she at times encouraged - the fact that we would act like drunken retards. It was understood that we'd probably go out for dinner with a group of people, have a good time, and then it was drinking and partying until the wee hours of the morning.

Not the last few years. It's not on purpose, but it always seems that something comes up around this time. Nothing major, but just enough to throw a wrench into any chance to go out.

So the Sidekick will be out tonight in the big city, and I'll get updates throughout. He'll have no wingman, and probably fail miserably - but that could just be my envy talking.

Either way, updates aren't the same as being there.

And that sucks.

Happy Birthday, Sidekick - you magnificent bastard.

Later

Pleasantly Surprised.

As the title states, I'm pleasantly surprised at how the election turned out last night.

Sure, some don't like that the Conservatives stayed in, but there was big change all around - I think the worst thing that could have happened to Canadian politics would be to have an election and just end up with the status quo.

Conservative majority? Ok Mr. Harper, you have your mandate, now show us what you can do for Canadians.

NDP? Congratulations on the "Orange Crush" - hopefully you are able to do something with your newfound status.

Liberals? I would say that obviously the biggest change people felt was needed was in your party, but then I'd be forgetting about...

The Bloc. Goodbye, fuckers - don't let the door hit your separatist ass on the way out.

I would have been happy if the last result had been the only result. (Oooh - I sound bitter!)

And that's the kinda suprise I like.

Later.

Not Too Little, But Way Too Late.

The papers and news are all ablaze with the death of Osama Bin Laden.

I'm of the opinion that , while important, his death doesn't really change anything.

If they would have nailed him in January 2002, I think his death would have had more meaning.

It would have shown that if you commit an act of terrorism, be prepared to have retribution swiftly thrust upon you. What his death shows now is that if you commit a mass act of terrorism you will pay, but it might take 10 years or so, and you have that time to go about your business and keep plotting the deaths of your "enemies".

I think that's like punishing your dog six weeks after he shits on the floor. It's not an example or a lesson.

I'm sure that there are those who will look at Osama and say "At least he didn't get away with it." But there are probably others who would say "He got away with it for a long fucking time."

I'm one of the later.

Later.

Listen Up.

So here it is - mindless conversation from the Sidekick and myself.

Enjoy - feedback is always welcome - that's what comments are for, right?







Later.

Old and Grey.

The beard you see in the photo is gone.

I had to do it - it was driving me nuts. Itchy, scratchy, and I felt like I looked 15 years older. And since I was the only guy left who had the playoff beard, shaving it cost me no grief at all.

You know what was nice? Being told by countless people how young I look when I came into work after shaving.

So there you go Canucks, my beard helped you through the first round - you're on your own in the second.

Later.

Kathleen Turner.

Thanks to the loss of voice and the chest cold I now have I believe I sound like Kathleen Turner. (Wait until the podcast goes up - you can totally hear it there.)

Thank God I don't have her tits. The voice is enough.

Later.

Recording.

Last night the Sidekick and I got together with some coffee and a microphone and whipped up a podcast.

He's currently editing it to make it sound better, throwing some music in, and basically taking the audio version of a BeDazzler to it. As soon as it's done, it will be posted here in all its streaming glory.

The title of this masterpiece, you may ask?

Why, "Midlife Ramblers" of course. If it ain't broke, don't fix it.

Later.

Silenced.

I've lost my voice.

I'm not sick - in fact, I feel great - but whenever I try to speak the only sound is a wheesy, croaking mess.

It started last night, and is incredibly frustrating.  Since I'm working today, I'm in an environment where every person I see wants to talk to me, and any type of customer interaction is prefaced by a discussion of how shitty I sound.

I'm hoping it doesn't last long - as I mentioned in the Twitter feed: a talker like me losing their voice is like kneecapping a sprinter.

Although my co-workers do say they enjoy the peace and quiet....

Fuck that - as soon as it comes back, I'm not shutting up for a.week. That'll show 'em.

Later.

Business Plan.

Based upon my observations at the gym, I think that I've hit upon the perfect business plan.

I believe that if you opened a gym with great amenities and equipment, you'd make great money - but its all in the staffing.

Sure, a good team of personal trainers, along with a polite and knowledgeable front end staff would go a long way, but it's missing one thing:

Sleeper Agents.

Before should go thinking I'm crazy, hear me out. Take some fit, attractive, good mannered people whose only job is to work out and chat with the gym regulars.

I know for most guys at the gym, when that hot girl walks in and gets on the machine beside you, you work out a little harder, maybe more reps, whatever. If she's chatty and fun, you're going to keep coming back again and again - and eventually, all that extra effort pays off in heather people who want to stay at your gym not only because they get results, but that's where the hotties are. (I'm also thinking this would work for the ladies too.)

See? It can't fail.

Im'ma fuckin' genius.

Later.

Words of Wisdom.

Three things to remember this Easter:

   - Cardio.
   - Double-Tap.
   - Always have an exit.

Happy Zombie Holiday, everyone.

Later.

Last Man Standing.

Remember me posting about the playoff beards?

There were a couple of guys here who were doing it, and as of today, I'm the only one left. (What a bunch of pussies - they didn't even make it to the end of the first round!)

So now I'm undecided - do I keep the beard, thus proving my point (and uber-manliness), or do I cave in and stop looking like a cross between Rick Astley and an older Sedin brother?

It's a difficult choice.

Later.

Clutter.

The past two days at home, as well as my first day back at work have been spent dealing with clutter. Sorting, removing, and puzzling its existence have kept me occupied for hours.

I tend to just get rid of stuff when I can, but for the past couple of weeks I decided that it's not my job to clean up everyone's shit, and I'll just let it go like they do - deciding that ignorance must be bliss.

It's not.

How people can stand to look at the disorganized mess, I'll never figure, and I think you do more work overall by walking around or just looking through the shit than you would have if it would have been dealt with correctly in the first place.

So now I'm cleaning it all up.

I read somewhere that Steve Jobs's first mansion only had a mattress and a lamp in it - very minimalist, very Zen.

Fuck that - he just hated clutter as much as I do.

Later.

Clutter.

The past two days at home, as well as my first day back at work have been spent dealing with clutter. Sorting, removing, and puzzling its existence have kept me occupied for hours.

I tend to just get rid of stuff when I can, but for the past couple of weeks I decided that it's not my job to clean up everyone's shit, and I'll just let it go like they do - deciding that ignorance must be bliss.

It's not.

How people can stand to look at the disorganized mess, I'll never figure, and I think you do more work overall by walking around or just looking through the shit than you would have if it would have been dealt with correctly in the first place.

So now I'm cleaning it all up.

I read somewhere that Steve Jobs's first mansion only had a mattress and a lamp in it - very minimalist, very Zen.

Fuck that - he just hated clutter as much as I do.

Later.

Top of the Heap

Check out this link.

Trust me - it's okay - it's not porn, malware or links to a Rick Astley video.

For some reason, my blog is at the top of the Google search results for something other than a direct search for "Midlife Rambler".

Two things I'm curious about:

• Why are people searching for "forty eight dollars"?
• And why are they linking to my blog? -
  

I'm not going to complain - any way that people stumble across this place is welcome - I just think it's funny that after almost 5 years of blogging, the most popular thing I've written has been a quick blurb about winning at my neighbor's poker game.

I also double checked, and the same search on Bing reveals zero results for me.

Fuck you, Microsoft. Don't be such a hater.


Later.

Too Early.

Today is a prefect example of the beatdown that the Clopen gives you.

I worked until 9-9:30ish last night, and after going home, winding down and having a snack, I'm asleep by around 11:30.

Now get up at 5, at the gym from 5:30 to 6:40 - busting my ass too none of that lazy workout for me - go home, shower, eat, get ready for work and be on time for 7:30, and you can see why I'm tired.

And since I usually blog on my phone during my lunch break, that means that today's is short - because I need a fucking nap.

Wish me sweet dreams.

Later.

Folical Abundance.

So because the Canucks are in the Playoffs, at work all the guys have been given permission to grow a "Playoff Beard" if we want. (I'm guessing the girls were also allowed, but I can't see many joining in.)

And while I'm not a massive Canucks fan (they are the second favorite team - Go Avs!), I am a fan of the beard. Or at least the attempt - the jury is out on the beard itself.

It's been about 5 days now, and I'm getting mixed results. Oh, the beard is there, but the mixing is the fact that its brown, red, and gray, not the best color palette going.

But I'm going to stick with it, and see if it melds together in some sort of wonderful mess - kinda like a Jackson Pollack painting. Call it face art, if you will.

If I'm brave, I may post the finished product before shaving..just so people I don't really know can marvel at the wonder of my face..

Later.

Casting for Pods

I'm excited.

The Sidekick informs me that he's going to be working in the thriving metropolis south of the hometown for a month, and that means that he will be living minutes away instead of hours.

That's a great thing for a multitude of reasons, the least of which is that he brought up the subject of trying to do a weekly podcast for the duration of his time here. The thought, which used to scare the shit out of me, is rather intriguing. Why not do it? Hell, if you're already reading my shit, why not listen to it too? (And ask anyone, I'm way funnier in person.)

He's looking into it, and I'm tempted to give it a go.

What's the thought on podcasts? I admit, I listen to some, but is it something that most people do on a regular basis? I know if I asked most of the people I work with which podcasts they listen to, the biggest answer would be "What the fuck is a podcast?".

I think it will be a great learning experience..and I'm all about gettin mah learn on..

Later.

Aid of the First kind.

So today was my day at the local St. John's Ambulance to renew my first aid certificate for work. It had been years since I'd taken the course, but like riding a bike, it's not something you'll forget.

- Let me say this now - I believe that most first aid is common sense. If you use your head (and the tips the course gives you)  you, and hopefully anyone you may have to apply first aid to, will be fine.

That being said, they completely "dumbed down" the course this year. After the first session started I, and some of the guys who work with me who had taken the course years ago, commented to our instructor that it seems they were glossing over or omitting some of the stuff from previous years.

- And I'm not talking minor stuff either - important things, like how to check for a pulse, the jaw lift method of opening the airway (if you suspect a broken neck), and dealing with a protruding bone or embedded object.

Sure, we covered how to get a speck of dust out of your eye, and how to properly fill out a first aid report (as mandated by Worksafe BC), but if you get injured around me and your femur is sticking out from your leg, I'll do my best to not make it worse, but you're probably fucked until someone better comes along.

It's kinda sad that they have had to aim for the lowest common denominator when providing these classes - I think it doesn't show a lot of faith in people and what they are capable of. If you want to ensure that a common individual has the basic skills, this course was great - but its supposed to be gearing towards being a first aid attendant or supervisor/manager...and that kinda scares me.

Luckily, (or unlucky, if you are the casualty) they teach you to just do your best, call for help, do what's necessary to save a life while protecting your own, and wait until someone more qualified than you comes along.

More qualified, you say? If karma is working and in your favor, you'll break that femur 10 feet from me and 30 from a hospital. (Otherwise your outlook isn't good.)

But have no fear- I aced the final exam - 20/20.

"I'm a First Aider, can I help you?"

Later.

Friends of Friends

The types of people who occupy my "News Feed" on Facebook.

- The "Inspirational Quoter" - forget a regular status update, I'll give you quotes from anyone I can think of, from Gandhi to Judas Priest to Mister Rogers.

- The "12-stepper" - Every post is "onward and upwards" and the glory of the little things in life. (As they see it, anyways.)

- The "Prego" - I get it - I understand the wonder of childbirth, and I know you do too, since it is your third kid - so quit posting "My Baby @ 3,4,however many weeks".

- The "Self Promoter" - started out like a regular person, now all updates are only about their home-based business..you know, the third one they've had this year..

- The "Sport Parent" - doesn't talk about themselves at all - every word is about whatever tournament, competition, or game their child or children are currently in. Weekends are especially painful, as you get constant updates on the score.

- The "Permanent Vacationer" - Always seems to be somewhere exotic or far away, either scaling mountains or swimming with dolphins. (Main issue with this one is containing my own jealousy.)

- The "Copy & Paster" - every update is a question or statement that they want you to reply to, followed by a request to copy and paste the same thing into your status - kinda like spam that's trying to be cute.

The - "Constant Updater" - Tells you everything that is happening moment by moment. From meals to tv shows to bathroom breaks, you are privy to it all.

- The "Die Hard" - Predicts their favorite team to win it all, relates national news to how their team is doing. " The Liberal Party's platform is almost as sad as the Hab's power play percentage."

And lastly:

- The "I spend too much time on Facebook-er." - Instead of bitching and commenting on your addiction, have you ever just thought of clicking the little red "x" in the corner amd walking away? Didn't think so.

Yes people, these are my friends, relatives, and acquaintances...
Wouldn't trade 'em for the world.

Later.

Pit of My Stomach.

Just so you know, I'm at the risk of facing the Wife's vengeance by making the following statement:

As much as I appreciated the fresh-made waffles this morning, they are sitting like lead weight in my stomach, sucking the life and energy out of my day.

And that's sad - because I really like waffles.

Let's just keep the weight-ness of said waffles between us, ok? I would like to have them again, and she did go out of her way to make them for me..

Later.

All hail the Clopen.

Ahhh - the Clopen.

You know what I'm talking about - those days at work where you work the closing shift one night and open the next day? 'Round here we call it the "Clopen". (Sounds very cowboy-ish, but considering the area around here, it kinda makes sense.)

The thing that sucks about the Clopen is that it seems like you have been at work forever, especially if the people you are working with are Clopen-ers too. (And for those of you who are all "I love work! Feeling like I've been there for days is great!" - shut the fuck up and take your medication, you sick bastards.)

For me it's the fact that I don't see my kids for about 34 hours when I work a Clopen. I see them when they go to school in the morning, they are asleep when I get home, and I'm gone to work before they are up the next day. As much as I bitch about them, I do actually miss them during this time, and it also explains why they glom onto me during my days off. (Seriously, when do they start letting go of the leg?)

I find the Clopen especially difficult when I throw a gym workout in there too - pile on a 5am run or weights on your already trashed sleep schedule, and its easy to see why after a couple of Clopens, its easy to get a little "edgy".

( I use the term edgy because I don't know a short form of tired,irritable,bitchy,fed-up,sore,and cranky.)

Later.

I Feel -

- That me coming back from Days Off is very similar to Luke walking  into that cave on Dagobah.
- That I wish I was fortunate enough to have a Lightsaber.
- That the warm of the tanning booth is what I imagine Tattooine to be like.
- That there's something to be said for clones - Hell, I have kids, they've got to be similar.
- That compared to some of the people I interact with every day, Jar Jar is a fucking genius.
- That no one has ever called me the "chosen one" - and I think they're missing out..
- That going into Toshi Station would be way better than hanging out here.
- That I'm jealous that my best friend's name isn't as cool sounding as "Biggs Darklighter".
- That unfortunately, much like Han, I sometimes shoot first.

Later.

Closed Society.

Satellite Radio.

As much as I like the concept of uncensored, unfiltered, high quality music, I don't think I'm completely sold on the idea.

The reason I say that is because almost every person I know who has satellite radio only uses a couple of channels. That's it. Two, maybe three, channels out of the hundreds of offerings.

The Twin (who has satellite radio) exclusively listens to Howard Stern and Hair Nation. (Why yes, he is a child of the 80's, why would you ask?) His musical tastes haven't changed much since High School. Sure, he's aware of other music, but he doesn't like it much, nor does he give it much of a chance when he is exposed to it.

I blame the radio.

I'll admit - as much as you've heard me bitch on this very blog about the horrors of public radio, it does force you to listen outside your comfort zone and to experience other styles and genres. And that can't be a bad thing. (At least its better than still listening to Poison or Great White.)

Later.

Ghetto Gym

A while ago, a new gym opened up in town.

I had heard about it, some of the people from my gym even decided to go there instead, but I was happy where I was and didn't think it was worth the extra $10 a month for a member ship. Really, a gym is a gym, right?

But then I went there today.

Holy Shit.

A guy I know gave me a free pass and said I should check it out. After hitting their treadmills, the ellipticals, and doing some weights on the machines, I have to say I'm impressed.

That gym makes mine look like I workout with hobos under the bridge instead of in an exercise facility. (it also made under the bridge seem cleaner than my regular gym.)

It's not that I'm impressed by the fancy lighting and tv's, I'm just impressed that everything is new and it works. (My gym has had a treadmill out of commission for six months). I'm also a fan of showers that work, friendly staff, and a kick-ass sauna.

It's a tough decision. I like my gym, the people there, and my love of the tanning booth is well documented on this site.

But the new gym is just so shiny....

I'll have to think about it.

Later.

Ghetto Gym

A while ago, a new gym opened up in town.

I had heard about it, some of the people from my gym even decided to go there instead, but I was happy where I was and didn't think it was worth the extra $10 a month for a member ship. Really, a gym is a gym, right?

But then I went there today.

Holy Shit.

A guy I know gave me a free pass and said I should check it out. After hitting their treadmills, the ellipticals, and doing some weights on the machines, I have to say I'm impressed.

That gym makes mine look like I workout with hobos under the bridge instead of in an exercise facility. (it also made under the bridge seem cleaner than my regular gym.)

It's not that I'm impressed by the fancy lighting and tv's, I'm just impressed that everything is new and it works. (My gym has had a treadmill out of commission for six months). I'm also a fan of showers that work, friendly staff, and a kick-ass sauna.

It's a tough decision. I like my gym, the people there, and my love of the tanning booth is well documented on this site.

But the new gym is just so shiny....

I'll have to think about it.

Later.

Fool of April.

Usually I'm all over April Fools Day.

Just the fact that there is a day devoted to pulling the wool over other peoples eyes warms the devious pit that is my heart.

And as most of the pranks or tricks are of the "good natured" variety, there's not even any guilt associated with anything you do. It's the ultimate win-win situation.

And I missed it.

It's not that I wasn't aware of the date - at work I have to write the date over and over again - its just that I had a total disconnect from the fact that yesterday wasn't just the first day of April, but also April Fools.

(And no one I worked with did any type of pranking at all, so it didn't even cross my radar.)

It wasn't until I got home last night and heard about different pranks online (my favorite is the "voice activated photocopier") that I even noticed.

So I'm a little disappointed.

But I'm hoping to make up for it - my kids don't know, but I'm hoping they understand the joke. ("Happy Late April Fools, Boys!")

Later.

Readjustment.

Getting back to a regular sleep schedule has been a bitch.

With being on holidays, going to hockey games in Van, and some unintentional late nights recently, the youthful enthusiasm I had when springing out of bed at 5am is non-existent.

I find that I'm tired in the morning, and wide awake at night - so awake that I don't even notice my regular bedtime, and when I do, I have trouble falling asleep. I've had people tell me everything from no caffeine after 3pm to try "rubbing one out" . (There's no way I'm giving up coffee, but the other one sounds interesting...)

It's driving me a bit nutty and pissing me off - but I'm not going to lose any sleep over it.. (Ya see what I did there?)

So if you find that my rambling is less coherent than usual, you'll know why.

Later.

I Feel:

• That's it's been a long time since I did an "I Feel" list.
• That the more reality TV my wife watches, the more I like crazy retarded shows, like Archer & Venture Bros.
• That being the "Tech Guy" at work just means that people think anything I do with a computer should be twice as fast as if they did it - like I can make Windows 7 boot faster just 'cause it's me.
• That some days I could just drink coffee and bitch and be happy.
• That the previous statement made me sound really gay.
  
• That after listening to some Smodcast Shows (Hollywood Babble-On & Smodcast), I really wish I would have taken the Sidekick's offer to do a podcast 2 years ago.
• That the pain involved in a cracked tooth, infection, and root canal is more than I would ever want to deal with again.
  
• That being said - I fucking loooove Percocet.
  
• That no one should worry - I won't sell DVD's to feed a potential painkiller addiction. But I may trade in the Mother-in-Law's dog.
• That it's 15 days until the Foo Fighters Wasting Light is released - not that I'm counting or anything.
• That I still have yet to come up with a way to end one of these things.

Later.

Back in the Saddle

Holidays are over, and I'm back to work.

As much as I like the regular routine again, there's something to be said for not having to work. I got to spend a lot of time with my oldest boy, who's big wish over spring break was to watch all the Star Wars movies with me.

How does anyone say no to that?

So after being bombarded with Jedi vs Sith questions for six days (which I had all the answers for, thank you very much) I was reluctant to get back to the real world.

And if the prequels were as good as they should have been, I wouldn't want to come back at all..

But I'm here and I'll make the best of it - although it would be easier with a Lightsaber.

Later.

Uplifting.

If there's one song that can get me through a bad day, this is it.

John Butler is freaking amazing.

When you play this good, who needs words?






Later.

Recovery.

I'm not the youngster I used to be.

(I know, you're shocked, right?)

But even though I'm in better shape at 38 than when I was 28, there are some things that take me just a bit longer to recover from than they used to.

A Hockey Game in Vancouverwith the Sidekick, and the resulting beerfest is a great example.

Saw my Avalanche lose to the hometown boys Wednesday night, and I'm still feeling some of the effects.

I'm telling everyone that the problem is the fact that you can't sleep comfortably on the ferry on the way home - if BC Ferries would invest in some bedspace with comfy mattresses, I'd be well rested and feeling chipper.

I can hear your advice - "If you would just act your age and try not to drink like a 22 year old, you'd be fine." - but where's the fun in that?

At least I have the memories of the trip (fuzzy as they are) to console me during the arduous recovery process.

Yeah, its worth it.

Later.

Missing Out.

Bumped into a person I know from Running last night.

We always talk races, training, nutrition, etc, whenever we see each other. It's great conversation, she's full of insight and wisdom, and its just great to chat with someone who is as passionate about running as I am.

So it was very disappointing for me to break it that I won't be running the Comox Half Marathon this year.  It's on Sunday, and with being sick, problems with my foot (getting better!), and just the fact that I haven't run enough mean I would be setting myself up for failure.

I ran it the last 2 years - missing out on this race will suck. I know its the right thing to do, but it bugs the shit outta me that I'm not in it.

Luckily my Running friend put a positive spin on it - sure, I will miss out on the Half, but now I'll have a chance to get ready for the Merville 15k - and she doesn't think I can beat her.

The gauntlet has been thrown down - and I have to answer.

Now the Merville race can't get here fast enough.

Later.

I Hate Erasing

I'm a list type of guy.

To-do lists are my bread and butter at work - being organized makes me look good, and helps me do my job better.

I do have one quirk when it comes to writing out my list:

- if I make any mistake - spelling, prioritization, or otherwise - when writing my list, I have to chuck the whole thing over and start again.

It may seem weird, but I just can't stand to see an imperfection on there - it drives me nuts. Sure, its a waste of paper - but I live in a town whose (former) main export was pulp and paper, so I've been trained for years that we can always just cut another tree down, go ahead and chuck away.

Even if we were still writing on pelts, I'd be the guy who wastes 3 cats just getting his list perfect.

But once its written, it's gold - and since getting it done makes me look like a hero, why mess with success?

Just be grateful that blog writing wasn't all paper based - the amount I stop and restart each post, I would be personally responsible for most of the Amazon deforestation.

Later.

Solitary Confinement and The Wonders of Vitamin D

Take one slightly fatigued, middle-aged guy after a workout.

Place him in a lighted tube, with bulbs that overload his pasty white skin cells with Vitamin D (Nature's pick-me up).

Add awesome music, (The previous post's "Rope") some skin cream, and

Subtract the fact that anyone can see or hear him.

What do you get?


Well, according to the guy who was actually in the tube, you get a fucking Rock Star.

Maybe it was the perfect storm of exhaustion, endorphins, and enthusiasm, but for a moment - just a moment - it felt like I was on stage, rocking away with the best of them.

Then the lights turned off, the door opened, and it was time to get back to the real world.

Who cares? I'm still feeling the high.



Later.

Gimme Some Rope

April 12th can't come fast enough.

As much as I'm looking forward to the new album, my real thrill will be trying to catch the Foo when (and if) they come to my neck of the woods. (Whaddya say, Dave? How about the Save-On Centre in Victoria??)

Time to bust out my personal Greatest Hits and give it a run through again.. (Febuary Stars, anyone?)




Later.

Sprung Forward

It's amazing how much of a difference an hour makes.

Subtract an hour (or even two) from my sleep any other time of year and I shrug it off and continue on with life. (Usually these subtractions are related to kids or the bar - either one.)

But if you TELL me I have to move my clock ahead, and forcibly rip that hour from me, I feel like a bag of shit.

Daylight Savings was partially Ben Franklin's idea - why do we even listen to a guy who's famous for flying a kite in an electrical storm?

Whoever made that call was suffering from lack of sleep already.

Later.

Generational Gap.

WARNING: The following will make me sound reeeeally old. If your mental picture of me involves youth and vitality, stop reading now.

So after picking up the boys from school, we're on the drive downtown when #1 son asks me a question about movies. (I encourage an open dialogue with my kids -especially in the entertainment category.)

"Daddy, what movie did you like to watch over and over again when you were my age?"

Simple question, right? If I would have thought about it, I would have just said "Star Wars" and been done with it.

But nooooo. I have to explain to both of them that when I was their age, you couldn't just watch a movie over and over at your house whenever you wanted.

"But why not, Daddy?"

So I explain that when I was eight, there was no Internet, so we couldn't download a movie; no rack of DVDs because a) there were no DVDs and b) VHS tapes were like $60 a pop and you had to rent the player because they were to expensive to own; and we only had 12 channels, movies were only on Sunday nights and you didn't get to pick what it was.

The sheer look of horror on their faces was astounding - you think I had just told them I grew up before fire was invented.

They couldn't wrap their heads around the fact that there were limited entertainment choices and that if you didn't like what was on, you were out of luck. (Come on, you think I watched Return to Witch Mountain by choice?)

To them, I must have lived in an entertainment wasteland.

I love the fact that I can watch what I want, when I want to -  but there's something to be said for the days of racing home to be ready for when the movie starts, needing a electrical engineering diploma to hook up a VCR and a virginal sacrifice to set up and record a program.

We appreciated it more, dammit!

I think I'll start the "Walked uphill to school both ways" conversation next week...

Later.

Embracing My Nerditude

Right now I'm typing on a blog, while listening to the Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog Soundtrack, and getting Twitter updates about Kevin Smith movies on my smartphone.

Holy Shit, I'm either a huge fucking nerd or the greatest multi-tasker known to man.

Shame?

I don't know what your talking about.


Later.

So Fucking Tired.

Remember that TV show, Heroes?

Do you recall that there were characters other than the cheerleader? (I know, I was shocked too.)

Well there was the one guy, he had the power to stop time - pause, wait, start again.. On my list of superpowers to wish for, it doesn't rate that high. (Pause, Rewind, and Start Over - that's the cool one - I like my superpowers like I like my Tivo.)

However, on days like today, it would be the most bitchin' power going -  I'd stop time, take a sweet fucking nap, and BAM! -  right back to work again. Sure, the day would be a lot longer for me, but throw a couple naps in there, and who cares?

Sounds sweet, right?

I thought so.

Later.

Gluteial Eyestrain.

I used to look forward to casual days at work.

Lately, not so much.

The main reason? Lulemon pants.

Back when all the girls wore frumpy, baggy, dress slacks to work, casual Friday was a welcome relief for the eyes. Jeans that hugged, cleavage, -it was a wonderful day all around.

Not that it still isn't great, but after looking at black, form-fitting pants that gently caress the curves and make almost every ass look like a Supermodel's it tough to just look at a regular pair of jeans the same way again.

I guess I'll just have to suffer through it.

(Waits for all the comments from guys who work in male-dominated areas, bitching that I'm complaining about looking at ass when all they can see is hairy man-crack.)

Life's tough, my friends.

Later.

Motivation Frustration

I know I've talked before about my lack of motivation when I comes to my days off and doing shit around the house.

But I've hit a different kind of wall.

If you're a regular reader of my Twitter feed, you will notice something has been missing lately. (The first person who says "Yeah, funny shit." Gets shot.) Those updates every time I run? The ones with how far, how long, and when? Yeah - there haven't been any of those for a week or so.

Part of the reason was an injury to my foot, which isn't horrible, but rest and not pushing it are essential. The other is that I've had a chest cold for a week, and the thought of running through a chest full of phlem isn't appealing at all.

What I should be doing is maintaining my diet, hitting the weights at the gym instead of running, and get back to it a.s.a.p.

Problem is, that's not happening. I'm finding it amazingly hard just to get ny ass outta bed in the morning - the combination of wanting to sleep as well as not wanting to freeze my sack off scraping the car have me hobbled.

Last year, I didn't experience this at all - there was no doubt that I'd be at the gym or on the road running each morning. And the fact that I KNOW there's a difference really bothers me.

As Austin Powers said, "I've got to find my mojo, baby."

I'm just not sure how i'm going to do it.

Later.

Shameful Recognition.

It's an awkward moment, telling someone you have a blog.

There's that moment that hangs in the air -where you wonder if the response will be interest or confusion. Most people my age (around here, anyway) don't seem to grasp the concept.

Needless to say, I usually keep a tight lid on the fact that I write here. I reveal it only to people I know for sure will "get it", and only let them know the address if they ask.

It's not embarrassment of what I write, or the fact that someone known to me will read my rants and rambling. It's more of a pain explaining *why* I'd want to write something that "just anyone" can read.

And that reason is a post in itself.

Later.

The Magnificent Mr. Sheen.

Why is anyone really surprised about what Charlie Sheen is doing, or how he's behaving?

We've lauded him for such actions (on screen, at least) for years.

His filmography reads like a testimonial to womanizing, sex-addicted, hard living douchebags. From Bud Fox to Charlie Crawford to Charlie Harper, they all drank, chased women, and openly displayed their vices.

Did it ever occur to anyone that maybe Charlie wasn't acting?

Part of me wants to be the publicly aware Dad that I am and say "That Charlie, so irresponsible." The other part of me is kinda envious about the partying and Porn Stars. (Do ya blame me? I'm a guy, for chissakes- anyone with a dick is lying if they say they don't feel even slightly the same way.)

I think that the media attention that's being given to Charlie is way out of proportion, considering what else is happening in the world, and I'm sure that he feels the same way. But people are watching Charlie Sheen for the same reason they watch Nascar - they are waiting for the crash.

I, for one, hope he makes it out ok. I'm sure he'll eventually get tired of the jet-setting and all the sex, and things will settle down for 'ol Charlie. (Hahaha - ya, I don't think so either.)

Stay the course, Mr. Sheen, you're living the dream for any man over 35. Your midlife crisis is inspiration to us all.

Later.

Communication Overload

Ask anyone, and they'll tell you I'm a talker.

However, there is a guy I work with who puts me to shame - it's unbelievable.

I'm the type of talker who kind of stays on track with the conversation - sure, it'll flow from topic to topic, but it's all related - I can look at how the conversation started to how it ended up.

This guy roams around so much in a conversation that you can start talking about how icy the roads were, and the next thing you know, you're discussing the foot speed of the average Kenyan.

As interesting as it is, it  can be very frustrating to try and get him to stay on topic - God forbid I need to get actual information from him -  I want to know what supplies he wants and you end up discussing the latest possibility of a manned mission to Mars.

I sometimes want to just stop him and point out what he's doing, but that would be a 3-hour conversation in itself.

If I ever get that bad, just gag me.
But gently, okay? I might want to discuss the latest episode of Archer..

Later.

Situational Clusterfuck

Walked into work today to a Murphy's Law situation.

If it wasn't already fucked or messed up, it soon would be - it made me feel like I'd committed so heinous crime in a former life, and God just decided to fuck with me all at once.

There's not really much point in moaning about it - but hey, I've got this space - why not use it?

Later.

Medication Admiration

I've got to admit, Buckley's doesn't pull any punches.

That stuff winds up and puts it's burning, vile tasting, mentholated fist right through your head. It forcibly removes what's ailing you like the Lybian government removes protesters. (Ok, bad example, I'll admit.)

But I wouldn't have it any other way.

Unlike other people that I know, I actually medicate myself when I'm sick - I take shit that gets it over with as quick as possible, so I can get back to doing the things people do when they are not sick. (You know, like life?)

Just laying around and hoping you will eventually feel better is like rolling over during a fight and hoping the guy will stop hitting you when his arms get tired.

So I take the short term pain (Buckley's) for the long term gain (Not feeling like shit).

It's working so far.

Now excuse me while I take my dose of nasty, nasty, tasting stuff.

Later.

Organization Consternation

I'm not the most organized guy in the world, but I'm better than most.

Which is why certain things at work drive me completely fucking nuts.

In my job, it pays to be organized - product in, product out, rotation - and the fact that you have multiple people working in the same area means that everyone has to do their part to keep it neat.

And one or two people being sloppy can make my day go from great to shitty in a half second.

It's not that hard - there is a place for everything - just put it where it fucking goes. (Not as elegant as "..and everything in its place.", but you get my meaning..)

I don't want to be "that" guy - the one who rages when one item is out of place - but its getting close. I think the next person I see just putting stuff away sloppily will experience wrath that will make Kahn's look like a Care Bear reunion.

Later.

Motivational Imbalance

My first day off is usually a write-off.

It's not that I don't want to accomplish anything - believe me, my ambition in the hours leading up to my days off is astounding. I have plans to clean the house, do enough laundry to get through the year, balance the budget, cure cancer, and possibly run a 20-miler - and all that before the kids are out of school.

But somehow, it just never seems to work out that way.

I'm probably going to blame it on tasty coffee and the Internet. I'd have to say that those two distractions are what eat up most of my time. And podcasts - sweet,sweet, podcasts.

Hence the fact that my second day off is usually just a catch up day - the house is cleaned, the laundry done, and I'll usually get 7-10 miles in. I guess the balancing and disease curing will have to wait until I'm on holidays.

Sure, that'll work.

Later.

Lack of Communication

I'm lucky enough to have a job where I get to meet and talk to a wide variety of people. I enjoy most of the customers who come in, and get along with the majority of my co-workers.

There are the ones that you can talk more freely with, or have some sort of personal connection or shared interests, and talking with them always makes the night fly by.

Tonight is not one of those nights.

There's just no one interesting working - I can choose between talking quilting with one, how fascinating and dreamy another's boyfriend is, listen to the spazy guy talk about his "girlfriend" (pretty sure its his right hand) and the one other person working says maybe 3 non-work related words a month.

I personally believe this will be the longest night ever.

Wake me when it's over.

Later.

Rebuttal

Dear Mr. Homeless Man:

I do not know how you came to be in your current situation - drugs, misfortune, the CIA, whatever - and I don't really care.

What I do know is that continually asking me for change while I'm waiting for the bus in Vancouver does not endear me towards your plight.

Frankly, your strategy of asking for a quarter, being denied, and then asking for a dime and a quarter is baffling. I'm not sure of your profession before you decided to take up the homeless "gig" - but I suspect it was as a unsuccessful hostage negotiator.

I do admire your perseverance, though, and if you put as much effort into 8 hours at a actual job vs 18 hours of begging, you just might get ahead in the world.

I understand you're "off the grid" , and "living free", so the chances of you stumbling across this piece of digital advice are very slim, but if you do, please take it to heart.

Clean up, get a job, and stop being such an annoying dick to random strangers on the street.

Later.

P.s. - I stuck a quarter in my piece of gum and put it under the bench - pretend it's buried treasure!

Nerdzilla

See that right there? That is Godzilla's giant foot stomping on the Twin's Comic Book Store like my kids step in dog shit in the back yard. (God I suck at metaphors sometimes.)

It's coming out in March - something to do with the amount of copies they bought means they got to be on the cover. I'm surprised some rich guy didn't buy them all and get them to paste his Mother-in-Law on there...hahahaha.

I still think it rocks - good on you, Bro.


Later.

Feeling Horrible

I don't regret much when it comes to the world of pop-culture.

I missed out on Pearl Jam early on, and thanks to the Sidekick, was shown the error of my ways. My regret is that I missed out on all the hype and excitement for each album - the anticipation of what's to come. After all, isn't that half the fun of following a band?

I get the same feeling for Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog.

It was on the peripheral of my Internet browsing habits 3 years ago - I knew it was there and heard it being talked about, but just kinda ignored it - Neil Patrick Harris really didn't do it for me, and the whole musical thing just seemed weird.

Talk about being wrong.

Based on a solid recommendation from the Twin, as well as some others, I checked it out yesterday. I was blown away.

Complete fucking nerdgasm.

I'm glad I got to see it all in one go, but I kinda wish I'd have been paying attention when it was happening - the story just works for me, and the anticipation between each act would have driven me nuts. (Yes, I realize I'm a mid-thirties guy talking like a teenage girl at a Bieber concert.)

The next time something like this rolls around and I'm not paying attention, somebody slap me, please.



Later.

In Sickness and in Health.

I hate dealing with sick people.

Not mentally, sick - Hell, where I work, they're all a little twisted.

I'm talking about those people who treat a sore throat and sniffles like it's H1N1 - like the world is ending because their sinus headache won't go away.

Those people I want to stab with a pencil and put them out of their misery.

'Cause really, that's all you can do - they are useless to be around, don't accomplish anything, and the bitching and moaning are almost too much to handle.

The thing is, if they would just suck it up a bit, then they would probably end up feeling better - but no - bitching is waaaay more fun.

It's gunna be a loooong night.

Later.

Progress

It's that time of year again - weight loss time.

Since I have to lean out anyway for the races I'm training for, I decided to go for the added motivation of joining not one, but two weight loss contests, one at the gym, and the other is at work.

I know your asking yourself: "Are you fucking nuts?"

While my sanity can be called.into question at times, I think it'll work out fine - the weigh-ins are on different days, which will help me stay focused through the week. (All part of the plan.)

Yeah - believe it or not, I actually have a plan..


Later

Enjoyment

- Coffee.
- How I feel after a good run.
- Reading. ( right now, The Invisible Man )
- Watching my kids on the ice.
- Discovering a really cool app.
- Toast.
- Kevin Smith Podcasts
- "I just had Sex" by the Lonely Island.. ( I know, I know )


These are things I enjoy right now.


Later

Schedule Hell.

Mondays and Wednesdays ?
Skating and Hockey .

Tuesdays and Thursdays?
Karate.

I'm going to be driving these kids around for what seems like forever.

Thank God for Timmy's Drive Thru.


Later.

Last Call

Goodbye, 2010, I hardly blogged ye..




Later.

Mobility.

Picked up a smartphone the other day, and I'm really digging it.

I enjoy having the world's information at my fingertips, and just the fact that texting is so much easier is a plus.

I'm hoping I'll still feel the same way once the shine wears off, but the simple fact of being able to have workouts, dietary stuff, and the entire Internet in my hand is awesome.

(Like I said on Twitter- haven't had this much fun since I discovered my penis)

As for having the Internet in my hand? That includes sites with flash, because Android rules, and iPhones drool..

Later.