Home > Chewin' the Fat
Praying my dog is OK
What was assumed to be a routine check up with my dog, Buddy, has twisted into one hell of a nightmare for me.
I took Buddy in Thursday for his annual shots and explained to his veterinarian about Buddy’s recent anxiety issues. Part lab, Buddy has a tendency to sometimes be nervous in his surrounding. The veterinarian told me this was common for dogs of Buddy’s breed. However, he did suggest blood tests to check his thyroid level or for hypothyroidism, which is a disorder in which the thyroid gland (two small lobes located in the neck ) secretes insufficient thyroid hormone.
I noticed Buddy’s anxiety issues a couple of weeks ago when he wouldn’t eat his food in front of Kelley or me. It was almost as if he was worried or felt as if he was being punished. The main alarm I had was his demeanor. He almost seemed depressed at times or inactive. Buddy gets tons of exercise. But even on our walks and runs he seemed lethargic, or just not interested.
So aside from his annual shots and tests, Buddy’s veterinarian told me he was pretty sure from what I was telling him about Buddy’s anxiety it was a thyroid issue. I started to get emotional, but then the doctor explained it to me and assured me if it indeed was he thought it was it was very treatable.
I left feeling better about the situation while the tests were being completed. An hour or so later, Buddy’s veterinarian called me with the news. The thyroid stimulating hormone (TSH) response test, which measures thyroid-hormone levels in the dog’s blood came back low. In addition, Buddy showed signs of having a low blood calcium level.
The veterinarian explained to me he wanted to take X-rays of Buddy’s chest and check for any tumors, which is often a concern with such test reults. At this point, I heard nothing else and my heart dropped. Although he told me he thought the possibility of tumors were slim, he couldn’t assure me until we saw the negatives. Regarding the low blood calcium level, he told me that could be a sign of troubled kidneys. A simple urine test will tell me more, but again, he didn’t think this was a sign of kidney problems, just something that needs to addressed now.
Although Buddy’s veterinarian told me he thought things were going to be OK, I have been a ball of stress sense and my mind can only process “what if my dog is sick?” I’ve done a lot of research since talking to the veterinarian just so I could understand what I’m dealing with. It would be easy for me to say to myself and everyone around me that Buddy is going to be OK, but in reality, as well as I know my dog, I’m not an expert and won’t know for sure until I hear all the test results. I need to be prepared for the best or the worst - I need to be honest with myself that there’s a possibility my dog may be sick.
I’m scared, nervous and incredibly sad. Buddy is my buddy and has been by my side through some rough times. He knows when I am down and often walks up to and sits next to me as if to say, “Daddy, it’s going to be OK.”
I wish to God I could give Buddy the same reassurance right now, but I can’t. I can only hope and pray he is going to be OK.
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I was dead wrong
On Monday, I predicted Syesha would be voted off American Idol this week. But, after last night’s horrific performance from wanna-be Jason Castro, I’d like to take a mulligan and try this again.
For the life of me, I can’t think of why I was pulling for Jason. Honestly, he sucked and has sucked for the last two weeks. After destroying a Bob Marley’s classic then missing lines to one of Bob Dylan’s signature songs, I was amazed he made it this far and Michael Johns was voted off weeks ago.
I’m out of mulligans. Hopefully I didn’t totally blow my survivor prediction.
…
Here are some entertaining pics from the ‘ol Husband family tree.
My niece, Emma Drew, all scratched up.
For the love of God, someone please play with me.
This potty chair once belonged to my mother-in-law. Now, its a flower pot.
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I have to admit …
… I am addicted to American Idol and Survivor.
I once shouted from the rooftops I would never, ever watch reality television. I swore I would rather observe the grass grow, the pant dry or view the life cycles of a weed before I watched reality TV. I invested greater delight in reading, going for a run, walking my dog or doing whatever else in the world there was to do than convene in front of the television and waste my time with such nonsense.
My tune on reality television has since taken a complete 180.
I still consider most of reality television dense and a waste of time, but Idol and Survivor, as my mom, wife and many friends have told me in the past, are two shows that raise the bar for reality TV and isn’t like most reality TV. For instance, my wife and most of her friends like Rock of Love with Posion frontman Bret Michaels. His quest to find true love from a slew of women who scream, spit and punch each other is in my mind as ridiculous as his fake hair - this is my idea of a waste of time.
Whew! temporarily sidetracked.
Back to two really good reality shows. I began watching Idol last year with my wife. It took awhile to get into it, but I ended up liking it and was pulling for Jordan Sparks. After the show ended last year, I remember watching a bit on CNN suggesting there was nowhere else for the show to go. Even though I didn’t watch the first six seasons, I think this has been the best season yet simply because of the talent alone. I was stunned last week when Brooke was voted off. I agree her first song was horrible, but her second “I am I said,” I thought was awesome. Take a look.
In my opinion I think David Cook could stop singing now and walk away with the title.
This week’s Idol prediction: As much as I can’t stand Jason Castro, I think Syesha will be the next one dropping tears on stage.
Survivor, I have to say, I never thought I would watch. My mother has been tied to that show since day 1. She’s been telling me for years to give it a try. My wife and mother were glued to it last year and because it comes on before The Office on Thursday nights and my wife practically begged me to watch with her I gave it a try. I was drawn in.
This show is real and challenges competitors against the ultimate tests - skills and trust. Right now, it’s not so much a matter of skill as it is trust, which both Jason and Ozzy learned in the past. And thank God someone finally played the hidden immunity idol last week. Good for Amanda. I was bummed to see James go due to injury, but even more bummed that I have to sit and listen to Natalie foam at the mouth about how she wants to demolish the men and rank supreme or the fact Parvati has yet to be slapped.
This week’s Survivor prediction: Erik wins immunity again which could hurt Amanda, but I think Natalie is a goner.
There you have it. I’m glued to Idol and Survivor - as well as Hell’s Kitchen - with no shame. I can’t wait for The Shield to start, but until it does, I’ll settle for these shows to hold me over.
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Cell phones, stop signs and the finger
I practiced good patience Saturday toward a driver who decided it was more important to talk on a cell phone than actually pay attention to the automobile this person was supposed to be driving.
Trying to turn left out of the Lowe’s parking lot is bad enough on any day let alone a Saturday, but what made this day particularly complex was the person in front of me who opted to carry on with a cell-phone conversation rather than turn when the coast was clear.
Instead of laying on my horn I simply let it go. Then, at the next opportunity to turn, this person was still chatting and not turning. I then went back to my old ways and laid on the horn.
I got the finger.
At this point, the car behind me was honking his horn and finally, the person in front of me decided to turn, continue the phone conversation and still hang the finger on me.
I turned and sailed past this person to the next light where, ironically enough, my phone rang. Before I answered it, I looked in my mirror and there was same car and the same finger.
Instead of taking the call and staying parked through light until it hit red at a shot of revenge, I simply drove off while this person ripped by me on North Avenue, yelling at me as if I did something wrong.
I guess I was wrong for being impatient while this person was on the phone at one of the busiest intersections in all of the Grand Valley.
How rude of me!
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Flying is for the birds!
I guess we should have all saw it coming. The airlines are starting to fall from the sky and the delays in airports around the world are becoming more and more nonsensical, not to mention a pain in the you know where.
And my ever-growing fury of flying officially began the day my mother-in-law was supposed to arrive in Grand Junction from Michigan. As you’ll soon learn, that day was a double-whammy for us.
My mother-in-law was scheduled to arrive for a weeklong stay on Friday, April 4. She had booked this flight months in advance. Kelley and I were both eager to pick her up at the airport, but of course at the last minute, my wife calls me and tells me her mother won’t be coming - the airline booked too many passengers and because no one wanted to volunteer to sit that flight one out, Linda and two others were selected to be bumped.
Although my mother-in-law was compensated with money and vouchers to fly in the future, it’s the principle of the matter, which irked us all. As soon as we were able to calm down and digest the new schedule, my wife got an email from our travel agency with even more bad news - the airline we were flying to Hawaii in July had just gone bankrupt and closed its doors.
ATA airlines, which was our connecting flight from Los Angeles to Hawaii, sent out a mass email and took down its Web site Thursday, April 3. It did this while its last flights were still en route. The email we received suggested we call one of four provided airlines in an attempt to re-route us to Hawaii, which was supposed to be our belated honeymoon.
So my wife and I were using two separate phones trying to piece back what was once a trouble-free puzzle. We were told by each airline we called we would have to pay an additional $200 per person, per flight. In other words, from Denver to L.A., to Hawaii would have ended up costing up another $800 on top of the thousands we had already spent. The bigger problem was we would have had to arrive two days later and come home a day earlier. Thus, we ultimately canceled our trip and to our amazement, got a full refund.
Since then, I have been glued to the news when it comes to the airlines. Because of the rising fuel costs, inspections on planes or whatever - flying has rapidly become more of an inconvenience than a convenience. For this reason and this reason only, my wife and I have decided to hop in the car in July and head West. We’ll take our time, enjoy the scenery and will be free from the migraine that is flying - once the easiest way to travel.
By the way, getting back to Michigan was more difficult than arriving in Colorado for my mother-in-law. Her return flight was canceled twice. It gave us all four extra days together, but assured our collective judgment that flying is for the birds.
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No stitches, no energy
For a little over a week, my dog Buddy was stuck in a state of “can’t do anything” because of the seven stitches he had in his leg from his cat-chasing experiment. Normally, we go to the park each day and I let him run wild and free. However, for eight and half days, Buddy was stuck to walking slowly in the backyard and a lot of long naps on his favorite bed in the living room.
Thursday was a big day for my boy. He got his stitches out and I was told he would be able to again run wild and free by Saturday or Sunday. I took it easy on him Friday and Saturday, but Sunday, I gave Buddy the green light. Early in the morning, we went to the park, but he didn’t go nuts as he often does. He did run a little and was obviously tired pretty quick.
Sunday afternoon, my wife and mother-in-law decided to plant flowers outside. Expecting Buddy to run wild and free around them and being in the way, he instead was calm, cool and very relaxed.
This is how Buddy spent the afternoon with the ladies…
“Hey, ladies? I could use another cold one.”
“Am I in the way here?”
That’s my boy!
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I miss you Drew
People often ask me how I’m doing and always telling me to stay strong. People always tell me stories about my brother, Drew, and as a family, we always spend time talking about Drew, the son, brother and friend.
On April 5, 2005, my identical twin brother passed away in Kansas. I can remember the exact moment I got the call from my mother - I was getting ready for a budget meeting in the newsroom. People I work with have told me they could tell something was very wrong just by the look on my face.
Three years ago, the nightmare that could tear a family apart made its unwanted way into our family. My brother, my best friend and the person I turned to for advice, help and a good laugh was gone and I didn’t know where to turn, what to do or how to act. Three years later, I still have troubles figuring out how to deal with the loss of my brother.
Three years later and I am still rehabilitating myself. I still struggle. I still cry and I still feel emptiness. However, the one thing I have learned is life is very delicate and you never know when something like this can happen to you. It added a certain appreciation for the things I once didn’t value like enjoying a warm summer day outside with my dog, Buddy; snowshoeing in the wintertime on the Mesa; taking more vacations; paying more attention to my future rather then spending time wondering why I did some of the things I did yesterday and spending much more time with my family.
In October of 2005, I fell into a dark hole shortly after I bought my first house. It was my first birthday without Drew and it was then I began to feel the real pain and suffering of what had happened. I spent a lot of cold and lonely days in that house. I quickly learned, however, I have people in my life who care and are suffering with me. Good friends and family slowly pulled me out of a rut that was destined for more darkness and who knows what else. I was living in denial and needed a good shove into reality.
Not long after I got myself back together I met someone who literally took me to a new level of life - a place I didn’t think was in the cards for me. I met my wife around my brother’s second anniversary and I started to, for the first time in a long time, feel secure and safe. Was this my brother’s way of creating a whole new world of happiness for me? I like to think he certainly had something to do with it.
And now, three years after my brother passed away, I still find myself dealing with a lot of pain and suffering. However, the way I deal with those emotions have changed, or if you will, improved. I struggle with dreams where I can hear Drew, feel him when he hugs me and when he tells me he’s proud of me. I struggle with thoughts of was I as good of a brother as he was to me and did I say and do all the things I should have said and done?
When people do ask me how I’m doing, the answer is generally the same - It’s getting more manageable but the pain will always be the same.
Have a good day, Drew. I miss you dearly!
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Catching up
The trouble with having family spread out all over the country is that we only see each other once, maybe twice a year. That is never good enough for me and I often struggle with not seeing my father more, who lives in Pennsylvania or my sister and her family who live in California. My other sister and her family recently moved back to Grand Junction from Kansas, which has been wonderful, but there are still some family members far away.
My wife’s family all live in Michigan, which is where she grew up. We were there last June for a week and it was a great visit, but not long enough. It seems when you go on vacation; the time almost always seems to pass you by quicker than you want it to. Then, before you know it, you’re back at your office wishing you were still with family.
I haven’t seen my in-laws since our wedding in August. And even then we didn’t really get to spend much time with them because weddings are usually have some chaos to them, and ours had us going here, there and everywhere. It’s tough for me not to be able to see my in-laws as much as I would like to. My wife, Kelley, has it made here. My mother and Kelley are great buds and spend a lot of time together.
Friday, however, I’ll have a week to make up for lost time with my mother-in-law, Linda, who is taking her spring break to visit us. My father-in-law, Jack, couldn’t make the trip because of work commitments, but one is better than none.
My mother-in-law and Kelley
So Friday is going to be a great day for us. Family has always been the most important aspect of my life and it became much more important to me after my brother passed away three years ago. It’s difficult having to form the majority of my relationship with my in-laws through phone conversations, letters and Christmas presents. As difficult as it may be to have it this way, we have to take what we can get and I can’t wait to sit down on our backyard and have a glass of wine with my mother-in-law and catch up on lost time.
See you soon, Linda!
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For the love of Kansas
Finally!
Kansas finally makes it back to the Final Four.
Rock Chalk Jayhawk.
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When it rains …
What a weekend it was in the ol’ Husband household.
It began Friday night when Kelley made the decision it was time to put her cat of nearly 15 years down.
Sunday evening, our dog, Buddy, was chasing a cat and somehow hit something that resulted in a serious gash on his leg just above the knee. Buddy was limping and bleeding pretty bad. Without a thought, I loaded Buddy into my car and hightailed it to the pet hospital, leaving my wife and groceries in the driveway.
At the pet hospital, Buddy needed seven stitches and a whole lot of meds. In the end, Buddy’s cat-chasing ordeal ended up costing us $262 and some change. And as a result of his wound, he now has to wear a C-collar, which is a cone-shaped device to prevent him from licking his injury. So this is what Buddy will look like for the next week or so.
“Ah, Daddy … the neck thing? Not so much!”
Monday morning, we put Kitty down. As day turned to night, we were both talking about how we wanted the day to hurry up and end so we could wake up in the morning to a fresh start.
Ah, but the night was still young for more tribulations.
Our sprinkler system isn’t turned on yet, and since we recently had major work done to our yard, I needed to get some water on it. After watering the back yard from the house faucet, I couldn’t get it to completely shut off. As I’m turning the knob, it stripped and an entire piece of pipe came out of the side of the house.
“Of course,” I thought to myself. “Why wouldn’t this break? The day from hell isn’t over yet.”
So, we called a plumbing service at 8 p.m. and by 10 p.m. and nearly $500 later, all was fixed. And because of this, we weren’t able to finish Into the Wild or watch CSI Miami without distractions.
Monday was the prime definition of when it rains, it pours.
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Me vs. Scumbag Solicitor
So my wife and I recently decided to get the “triple package” from Bresnan - the phone, Internet and digital cable for $99.00 a month.
An advertisement for this deal is on every channel at all hours of the day. It’s almost like those annoying car salesmen who prey on perspective buyers. Since we already had the Internet and partial cable, we decided to up the ante and get a house phone, too.
It’s been so long since I had a house phone I had forgotten the biggest problems of having one - phone solicitors. I assumed these scumbags fell off the face of the earth into continuous bottomless fall.
So far, our house phone has been a nightmare because of the nonstop calls from people wanting to sell us life insurance, home owners insurance, credit cards, better discounts on contacts, medicine and even health insurance.
But the one that takes the cake, which also is the one that makes me want to pour cement into my ears, is the call which begins with a recording similar to this:
“Hello, we have been trying desperately to reach you regarding the policy on your car insurance. This is our last notice (note: every call is the last notice) for you to take advantage of this incredible offer.”
By the fourth time I got this call, I decided to let these people know how much I enjoy their phone calls every two hours.
Last night, while watching Gone Baby Gone, we got another call. Following the opening message above, this is what transpired:
Computerized message: “If you have already rejected this offer, please press two to permanently delete your account from our records.”
Pressing two doesn’t work; it just sends your number on down the line for the next scumbag.
Computer: “Press one to speak to one of our professional customer assistants so you can take advantage of this opportunity.”
I pressed one as my wife is telling me to calm down and be nice.
After five minutes of sickening elevator music, a person answers the phone:
Scumbag: “Hello, can I have the year and make of your car?”
Me: “2003 Ford Expedition.”
Scumbag: “What a nice choice for an automobile, sir. Now, can I have your name please?”
Me: “Anton Chigurh (I just finished watching No Country for Old Men).”
Scumbag: “OK Mr. Sugar, it looks like we can extend your coverage with us for just under $1,000 annually. How does that sound?”
Me: “I don’t have coverage with you, but I have a few questions of my own before I accept your incredible opportunity of a lifetime.”
Scumbag: OK, Mr. Sugar, what can I do for you.”
Me: “First of all, what is your name?”
Scumbag: “You can refer to me as Joe today.”
Me: “No, I think I’ll refer to you as scumbag. And its not today, its tonight, which means your interrupting my time with my family with this incredible opportunity of a lifetime.”
Scumbag: “Sir, I don’t appreciate you calling me names.”
Me: “I don’t give a bakers dozen.”
Scumbag: “Mr. Sugar, if you continue to be rude, I’m going to have to take this offer off the table.”
Me: “Did I fail to mention that I only pay $550 a year for full coverage on my car and have had the same insurance agent for the last six years and that he was a good friend of mine in high school and college and that he also provides car insurance and life insurance for me, my wife and my parents.”
Scumbag: “That sounds like a pretty good deal, Mr. Sugar. But, I don’t believe you because I think you’re just trying to annoy me.”
Me: “Now you know how I feel.”
Scumbag: “Mr. Sugar, I’m just….”
Me: “Hold it now Skippy. I’ve had enough of this. Have you ever seen the movie No Country for Old Men?”
Scumbag: “Yes, I have.”
Me: “And the fact I said my name was Anton Chigurh didn’t raise a red flag with you?”
Scumbag: “I found it odd.”
Me: “Do you find it odd that I have wasted my time tonight offering an alias while talking to a scumbag like you who won’t stop calling me?”
Scumbag: “Mr. Sugar, I’m going to disconnect this call now.”
Me: “Before you go, I have an opportunity of a lifetime for you.”
Scumbag: “What’s that, Mr. Sugar.”
Me: “You can take me off your calling list.”
Scumbag: “No problem.”
With that, he hung up on me. I guess he didn’t like to be bothered or have his time wasted.
So today, I logged onto the Colorado No Call List and this one for national calls. Hopefully this will take care of this problem.
Runaway carts and big trucks
Now that my job with Portrait is over and done with, its time to try and get back into a regular routine of posting my blog, and what better way to kick off my blog with a gripe about ignorance, big trucks parked in front of my house and my niece Ryeli.
Ignorace
I ran some errands for my wife Wednesday so she could be ready to fly to Texas for the weekend to play with her band, Riveter, in the annual South by Southwest Music Festival in Austin. My errands inlcuded going to Target to find her a bag she could carry around with her. I found Kelley the bag she wanted, but not before I fell victim to almost being plowed over by a runaway cart.
As I was walking through the store, a cart came flying out of one of the isles. I saw it out of the corner of my eye, jumped back as the cart careened into a rack of women’s clothes, knocking most of the items on the floor. As I looked down the isle, I saw two kids running in the oposite direction giving each other high fives along the way.
Seriously.
I understand kids will be kids, but could someone please explain to me what pleasure anyone would get out of a runaway cart in Target or was this simply a case of two board kids putting a new twist on bowling?
Big Trucks
We live in a small neighborhood on a small street. As of late, however, our neighborhood has been attacked by the Monster Trucks. As I pulled out of my driveway this morning and headed to work, I counted six giant trucks with tires the size of the new shed we’re having built in our backyard. These trucks were parked on the side of the road instead of the driveways, making the streets narrower than they already are.
As I was manuvered my Expedition through this maze of trucks I remember asking myslef “when did The Fall Guy convention came to town?”
Big trucks went out when this show was cancelled.
This is beyond agravating and I wish the people driving these oversized trucks would realize there are other people have to suffer when looking out the window only to see a truck the size of a mountain.
My Niece Ryeli
My older sister, Susan, and her daughter Ryeli recently moved back to Grand Junction. Rylei is a fun-loving, smart 5-year-old girl with a quick reply to everything that comes out of Uncle Benny’s mouth.
For instance, as I was giving her some milk yesterday, I said to her:
“Here you go whipper snapper.”
She replied by saying:
“Ah, the name is Ryeli.”
I was jacked by my 5-year-old niece.
Rockin’ with Riveter
If you don’t have any plans Saturday night (March 8) here’s your chance to make them.
Live from Quincy’s is Grand Junction’s own Riveter - an all-female fronted band. The show begins at 10 p.m. and will go into the early hours of the morning. The way these shows have been packed in the past, this show may last all week.
The following week, Riveter will travel to Austin, Texas for a second-straight year as part of the Invasion of the GoGirls music fest during the famous South by Southwest Music Festival (March 15). The gig at Quincy’s will be a “help send the band back to Austin” celebration show.
If you haven’t seen Riveter play, you should treat yourself to such a performance. My wife, Kelley, Robin, Laurena and Scott make up this great band. Kelley is the lead singer and plays guitar. To be around her all of the time and then seen her transform on stage into a butt-kicking rocker is amazing. If you have any desire whatsoever to play the guitar then come watch Robin play. In the simplest of terms describing the way she rips the guitar - remarkable. Laurena plays her popular heart-shaped bass and Scott, who could play any instrument under the sun and make it look easy, is on the skins.
Kelley and Robin
Laurena and Kelley
This band, which is endorsed by Daisy Rock Guitars, has been around a long time now and has played numerous shows in the Grand Valley and Denver. While the band’s popularity continues to grow, two things continue to stay the same — having fun and kicking butt on stage.
So come on out Saturday night to see a great show and help send Riveter back to Austin. If for some reason you need more details on the show, you can call me and I will make sure you get any information you need to come help support the band.
See you Saturday night!
Portrait, Portrait, Portrait!
I haven’t been keeping up with my blog as I normally do for one reason - Portrait.
For those of you who have been loyal readers of The Daily Sentinel know what Portrait is all about. For those of you who don’t, it’s an annual three-part series on personalities in the Grand Valley. This mammoth project is an extensive work of art from top to bottom here at the Sentinel.
It begins with budget meetings within the newsroom to come up with ideas of interesting people with interesting stories. From there, the reporters begin to conduct interviews and soon write their stories while the photographers set up photo assignments. When the stories have been written and edited and the photos have been shot, that’s I become involved.
When the Portrait information hits my desk, it’s my job to design and layout the look of each page. I do this for all special sections for the Sentinel. It’s like putting a puzzle together - it takes patience and creativity. My golden rule behind designing pages has always been a simple one - let the art carry the page. In other words, I’m always on the look for the best piece of art (a photo or graphic) and I build the page around that item or items. For the most part, this rule of mine works out well. However, there are times when I’ll start a page over more than once before I’m satisfied with the look of the page.
This Sunday, the first volume of Portrait will be in the paper. Here is one of the pages I designed.
Portrait will be in the following Sunday editions: March 2, 9 and 16. Look for them, enjoy reading some really good stories and feel free to offer me any feedback on the look of Portrait.
Enjoy!
What’s that in your ear?
When I went out to run errands Saturday, it was like I woke up Saturday morning in Cyber World and I was the only dud left back here in the real world.
Everywhere I went - Target, Michael’s, Vitamin Cottage, Old Navy, Lowe’s and even the car wash - someone had one of those earphone things attached to their heads. At Target, while my wife and mother were browsing at the 750 million unlike types of lipstick, I went to see if the new Rainbow Six Vegas 2 was in. I should mention before I go any further with this that I forgot my glasses at home, so in a sense, I was partially blind.
Onward.
As I’m squinting my way to the video section, I walked past a guy who was talking. I thought he was talking to me.
“Pardon me,” I said.
He smiled and made a motion to his ear and whispered, “I’m talking on the phone.”
As I got closer, I noticed he in fact was talking on the phone - the one sticking out of his ear.
“What the hell was that,” I thought to myself as I’m approach my destination.
The game wasn’t there so I embarked on a trek to find the ladies, who were in the exact same spot I left them nearly 20 minutes ago - looking at lipstick.
As we made our way around the store, I decided to put my prescription sunglasses on so I could actually see what I was doing. As we were checking out, I saw the same guy with the phone attached to his head.
“Look at the guy,” I said to my mom and wife.
“What’s that?” My mom asked.
“I know,” I blurted out, “isn’t that thing stupid?”
“When did people start wearing their cell phones on their heads,” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied. “Did we miss a turn somewhere along the line?”
As the day went on, I saw three more people with earphones - at Michael’s, Vitamin Cottage and, this was the best, at the car wash where a lady was washing her car while obviously engaged in some kind of heated discussion.
“I wonder if those things are water proof,” my mom said.
“Well, if she keeps flinging her arms up and down with the hose in her hand, we’re about to find out.” I said.
When did these earphones become such a big thing? It’s bad enough that cell phones now can work as a computer, fax machine, copy machine, Ipod, camera, video recorder and even some even work as TVs.
I’m not into all that.
All I want to do with my phone is talk, which is what they are designed for. I don’t want to text my friends, wife or family. I don’t want to receive or send faxes, use it to make or send copies of the most recent text message I got, I don’t want to replace it with my actual Ipod, my digital camera or our video recorder and I sure as hell don’t want to watch The Shield on my cell phone.
What’s next? A phone that will start my car on cold mornings?
I miss The Office
OK, enough is enough. It’s time to give the writers what they want and deserve so The Office can return to my Thursday-night lineup. Because of the strike, I’ve been forced to do what my parents tried to get me to do for years - read more.
I’ve always spent ample time away from the television and I read plenty of books (right now I’m reading No Country for Old Men). I spend plenty of time with my wife, my parents and my dog, Buddy. I have countless chores around the house to keep me full of activity. Besides, if I run out of things to do, I could always wash and wax my car - I in no way grow tired of a clean car.
Except for March Madness or Kansas basketball, I infrequently stay glued to the TV. And, believe it or not, there are times when I’m knee-deep in a Kansas game that I’ll give up and turn the TV off. Such was the case Monday when the Jayhawks lost to Texas. When I knew there was a better prospect of me winning the lottery than Kansas winning, I turned the TV off and read more of my book.
Turning off the TV during The Office doesn’t come about in our house.
I enjoy watching the few shows I love and now, because of the writers’ strike, I’m stuck in rerun world. And even though there seems to be an agreement on the table for the Writers Guild of America to return to work, I’ve watched reruns so much I grew tired of the norm and am eager for my favorite shows to return.
I miss The Office and Dwight’s theatrical resolution to every office crisis, kissing the rear end of Michael, living in desolation sitting next to Jim and sporadically finding his office supplies enclosed in lime-green Jell-O.
I miss Michael’s clash with Ryan about managerial diplomacy, his witty, yet not so tasteful, one-liners, telling Dwight he’s just “assistant to the regional manager” and I’m dying to find out how he is going to handle himself under oath at Jan’s deposition where she is suing Dundler Mifflin for $4 million for wrongful termination.
I miss The Office so much, I have watched seasons 1-3 on DVD so much I could in all probability narrate each episode word for word. I even have the theme song as my ring tone. Take a listen.
Here is a mixed-clip of Dwight for my fellow Office lovers.
I miss The Office and until the writers go back to work, I have plenty to keep me busy - my book, spending time with Kelley and Buddy, cleaning my car and watching the Jayhawks and the upcoming NCAA Tournament.
Godspeed writers, Godspeed!
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Learning to crawl
Until I become a father, which my wife and I have decided will be sooner than later, I have plenty of practice with my nieces and nephews. They certainly keep me busy when they visit, allowing me to practice my pre-fatherly duties.
When I spend time with my nieces and nephews, I love to take are the little things - laughing, smiling, innocence and especially the precious moments you spend with any child. And now, the most recent addition to our family has taken on a new challenge - the mission of crawling.
My niece, Emma Drew, who will celebrate her first birthday in June, has grown tired of swings, play pens and rolling around on her tummy. It’s time for some real action and, according to my sister Larissa, Emma Drew has been attempting to crawl for some time now. Some times, Emma Drew can scatter across the floor like a nervous bug, but at other times her crawling can be compared to a deer running on ice.
Either way, Emma Drew is determined to crawl regardless of how many times she takes a tumble. My sister has documented her crawling techniques and shared the photos with the rest of the family.
Here’s Emma Drew hard at work.
Finally! New Furniture
It’s easier said than done to watch a good movie, play Tiger Woods PGA ‘08 or watch Kansas throttle rival Missouri on our big screen when I’m relentlessly fidgeting, moving and struggling to come across some kind of comfort on what we call a couch in our living room.
Kelley and I have exhausted so much time fixing doors, painting, building a shed, making room for treadmills, an antique hutch and doing everything else we can to perk up our new home that we have forgot about those things in our living room we like to call furniture, but would cheerfully douse with gasoline, light a match and party on.
We have needed new furniture since we met, but always put it off for other expenses, you know, like food, gas and my XBOX 360 and my collector’s copy of Halo 3. But this past weekend, we finally made a decision to buy new furniture.
The current furniture we have consists of a futon my wife has had since the Reagan era and a captain’s chair that my mother bought me following a surgery I had two years ago. The chair is, and always will be a comfort zone for me, but for the most part our cat has taken control of it. However, Kitty is going to have to find a new place to dwell once that chair goes into our office area.
Before I even sit on the futon my back aches, my head hurts and I already have a desire to do something else other than enjoy our living room. Yet, when it’s time for The Office, Kansas basketball or movie time, I force myself to settle down. It usually entails a mind-over-matter practice for me. But in the end, I feel like my body is in a pretzel.
Shopping for furniture is like looking for a new car - you get attacked the minute you walk in the door by a herd of sales people. However, I make it clear before my second step into the store that “if I have any questions, I will find you and ask you.”
After waddling through every furniture store in Grand Junction, going back to our house to measure the living room several times, discussing colors, shapes and sizes we finally made a decision.
We chose this sectional from Ashley Furniture. (This is an actual photo from the Web site)
Although it was a bit pricey, if you want comfort you’re going to have to spend a little more. It’s also maddening knowing we have to wait three weeks for delivery. Why don’t these furniture stores have a warehouse?
So now as I count the days for the delivery of our new furniture, I inch closer each day to bidding adieu to the futon that has done anything else in the world except provide me coziness. Soon, I’ll be able to play my XBOX 360 until the cows come home, watch Kansas basketball in style and comfort and watch The Office in style and comfort.
Now, if I can just convince my wife that we need a flat screen to hang on the wall.
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My moment with The General
Before I made the crossover to the news side of this industry, I was a devoted sportswriter for many years - 15 years to be exact and I loved every second of it. After I returned to The Daily Sentinel nearly five years ago for a third time, where I wrote my first sports story in 1990, I often find myself reminiscing about my days as a sportswriter.
My biggest pleasure was covering high school sports. When I was at The Aspen Times I saw some of the best high school basketball I have ever seen. In Ohio, football comes before religion as it did in Kansas where I watched Olathe North High School win 38 straight games including four-straight state titles.
During my years as a sportswriter, I was very fortunate to always find myself surrounded by a wealth of athletics. From Grand Junction, Denver, Greeley, Aspen, Ohio and Kansas - there was never a lackluster day for me at the office. And this was especially true on February 9, 2002 when I covered a basketball game between Kansas and Texas Tech at Phog Allen Fieldhouse in Lawrence, Kan.
My love for college basketball is deep. I’ve watched every NCAA tournament since 1980 and my favorite team has always been the University of Kansas. When I interviewed for a sports writing job in Olathe, Kan., I was enticed with the prospect to cover the Jayhawks courtside. There was no way I was denying this opportunity. A week on the job, I covered my first KU game against Penn. Many more followed, but none was more extraordinary to me than the one in 2002 against Texas Tech.
For nearly two hours, I had the best seat in the house and watched one of the greatest college coaches ever. Bobby Knight, in my opinion, is a legend of the game. Love him or hate him, he is an ambassador of a game rich in history of icons. I put Knight on the same pedestal with Hank Iba, John Wooden, Dean Smith and John Chaney to name a few.
No question Coach Knight has worst bedside manners and a temper that can detonate and transform into a humiliating and excruciating tongue lashing that can leave you with your tail between your legs. Such was the case for me at Knight’s address to the media following a 108-81 loss to the Jayhawks.
The room was jam-packed to the rim with reporters from every media outlet from miles around. I was sitting in the middle of this packed room and was just as nervous as everyone else to ask a question. Finally, someone went first and then I thought to myself “what the hell” and stood up and addressed Coach Knight - the same person I was convinced was going to tear my question, and me for that matter, to shreds.
I still have the shorthand notes I took from this unforgettable interview:
Me: “Coach Knight did you feel your team had a hard time keeping up with the tempo Kansas created early in the first half?”
The General: “Tempo?” He replied with that famous cold-stoned stare that usually meant a grade-A butt chewing was about to follow. “Do you even know how this game is played? Tempo? The game is about tempo before you step on the court.”
At this time, I’m still standing while everyone is staring at me as I’m a deer stuck in headlights and Coach Knight was behind the wheel of a super-duper 18-wheeler and laughing.
The General: ” “What’s your name?”
Me: Ben from The Olathe News,” I replied. Some say I did so with a crack in my voice.
The General: “Whatever your name is, why don’t you sit down and let someone ask an important question.”
Even though many thought I was humiliated, I wasn’t. I didn’t even care he about cut me in half. I was ecstatic to be in the same room with him. Again, love him or hate him, Coach Knight is a legend.
When Coach Knight resigned Monday, it brought back the memories of the time he told me to sit down. I don’t think the game will ever see another coach with as much flare and realism he offered. He made some mistakes that ultimately cost him his job and tarnished a once reputable career at Indiana. However, he did what most people don’t do - he moved on and left the past in the past and took a cellar-dweller in Texas Tech and quickly transformed it into contender.
I was privileged to cover a lot of college basketball games while in Kansas, but this game was by far my most memorable. I got to stand in the same room with one of the true icons of college basketball, a sport I have loved and followed closely for as long as I can remember.
Sports Illustrated wrote a brilliant piece on Coach Knight in 1981. Click here to read Frank DeFord’s work of art.
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The Card Shark!
I’m almost too competitive when it comes to, well, anything I do that sparks any kind of competition. Being too competitive is good, but can often come back to haunt you if your not prepared to entertain the thought of defeat.
When my late brother, Drew, and I would play one-on-one in basketball, we’d usually set the game to the first person to 15 wins, but there were times we’d end up playing for hours with the score in the 50s before we both collapsed on the court.
Whether I’m playing basketball, working out, shooting pool, playing checkers, chess or backgammon I tend to do my best to take no prisoners and bask the limelight of victory all to myself.
However, I’ve recently hit a serious nose-dive and have lost my competitive edge in a game that has left me close to losing my mind. Rummy has long been my favorite card game. My strategy has always been straightforward - get as many wild cards as I can, get out as soon as possible and stick my opponents with as many negative points as I can.
This tactic has seldom let me down. The last two weekends, however, I’ve fallen subject to someone’s whipping boy in Rummy. I’ve lost and lost royally to the one person who I’d rather not fall victim to - my mother.
I was on about a year streak of not losing to her, but recently, she has waxed the floor with me, leaving me to grow incredibly disturbed.
Sunday, while my wife was quietly working on our wedding album in my Mom’s living room, my Mom and I were in a heated battle. The night before, I started hot, but ran out of gas early as she beat me and sent me to bed with a migraine the size of my car. Sunday, I was feeling froggy.
“Let’s roll,” I said to my Mom.
“Oh, I’ll roll,” she said, “I’ll roll all over you like I did last night.”
“Good one Potsie,” I replied.
“Are you sure you want to do this Benjamin?”
“Mom, I don’t lose,” I sternly replied.
“You did last night,” she quickly said.
“You must have cheated,” I said, trying to defend myself.
“You lost so just admit it,” my wife yelled from across the room.
“Listen to your wife,” my mother said.
“Sit down, deal the cards while I get a beer,” I said.
“You better get a sedative, too,” Mom said.
I sat down staring at the 11 cards my all-of-a-sudden smack-talking mother had just dealt me. I glanced over at my Mom already looking at her cars with an ear-to-ear grin that left me with an eerie feeling.
I picked up my cards. Had a pretty good hand. Discarded. It was Mom’s turn. As I’m shuffling my cards in order I hear a “Rummy Dummy!”
My Mom had racked up 210 points on the first had and stuck me with negative 50.
“That’s it!” I screamed.
“Want that sedative now?” my Mom asked.
“I’m done. Finished. Through with this freakin’ game!”
“Oh come on, one more hand,” my Mom said.
I agreed only to get it even worse the next hand, leaving me to go outside in the snow and bang my head against the side of the house.
I think I’m retired from Rummy!
A rip-off at the Car Wash!
Anyone who knows me will tell you my biggest flaw is that I’m a clean freak. Yes, I’m very serious about keeping the house clean, the clothes in my closet organized, my ties situated by color and patterns and the kitchen floor always has to be cleaned.
My necessity to be clean is multiplied by a million when it comes to my car. My car, a silver Expedition, is one of my pride and joys and I’m always telling people I take better care of it than I do myself. At every oil change I get synthetic oil and new filters whether I need them or not. I always make sure the engine is clean, the tires are rotated and that my windows are streak free. But keeping my car clean inside and out is where I really go nuts.
During the summer, I wash my car and clean the inside once a week. I wax it once a month. I can’t stand it when my car is dirty. I like it looking brand new. Shiny tires, sparkling rims and a glossy look to the inside. And when it’s really hot out in the summer, I cover my car and ride my bike anywhere I need to go.
During the winter, however, I am forced to rely on car washes. But the problems at a car wash usually outweigh the outcome, which should be a clean car. A normal car wash has 75 different annoying options from presoak to engine cleaner to wax to wash to bug off to tire cleaner and even a conditioner. And more often than not, one of these cycles takes forever to kick in or doesn’t work at all, which is a waste of time and money. And of course, you talk to the person working who offers a suggestion you’ve already figured out “I guess its not working.”
Now, most car washes offer the option of swiping your credit card for “quicker service.” You swipe your card and hit the stop button when you are through to end the wash. Since November, I’ve been going to the same car wash and have been using my debit card. For a while, things were going great until the day the stop button wasn’t working and, go figure, no one was working because the office was closed that day. There was no emergency contact in plain view and I had to dig to find a number. When I did, the message offered the owners number in case of an emergency. I called this person at least 10 times during that day, but never got a call back.
Ultimately, what should have been $6 cost me $15 and it was a Friday. The following Monday, I got a call and was given a full refund from an employee, but never a call back from the owner explaining to me what happened. Thus, I didn’t go back to that car wash.
I gave in Monday and went back to the same car wash to give my car a quick rinse - no presoak, engine cleaner and no conditioner. Just a wash and rinse. I used my debit card, stopped it after three minutes and about $4. I left saying to myself “at least I got it to stop charging my card this time.”
I was dead wrong.
Just for curiosity, I checked my bank account and just about passed out. The car wash charged my card three separate transactions for a total of $35.50. To say I was furious is the understatement of the New Year. I will call my bank, where I’ve banked for more than 20 years, dispute the charges and get them credited back to my account. I will then call the car wash, or go down there, and try to explain to them in a nice manner how I think their car wash is nothing more than a rip off and then leave and never return again.
Sometimes giving a second chance just isn’t worth it. For me, it almost cost $40.
Latest comments
How bout them Jayhawks! Awesome game !!
... read the full comment by Larissa | Comment on For the love of Kansas Read For the love of Kansas
All I have to say , it’s a darn good thing Kansas made it. I hate to see grown children cry. Good Rummy game this weekend, too bad you lost once again. Love Mom
... read the full comment by mom | Comment on For the love of Kansas Read For the love of Kansas
Ben. The one thing that stuck out in your blog is the $550/year for full coverage auto insurance? REALLY? I think I’m doing something different because mine is substantially less than that. Can I interest you in an incredible offer? I will have
... read the full comment by Rob | Comment on Me vs. Scumbag Solicitor Read Me vs. Scumbag Solicitor
Right on, Anton! At least you have better hair.
... read the full comment by Jim | Comment on Me vs. Scumbag Solicitor Read Me vs. Scumbag Solicitor