goodman thoughts

chicago trip

2012-01-11T10:59:00.000-05:00

1995: i was less than a year out of college when, 6 months into my first job, i was invited to spend 9 months in the ATL and support our company's involvement in a 3 company merger and subsequent large scale implementation of something called SAP. i didn't know what SAP was, and i certainly couldn't google it. i was 24, single, living at home, $40k in college tuition/credit card/car debt, and had my whole life in front of me.

i decided to do it. fuck it, it was only 9 months and i was trying to sponge up as much experience as possible. i received a call from a guy named dave, who was the project manager, and I was a bit nervous. he seemed like a decent enough guy. he was 10 years my senior, was a big red wings fan, and was quick to congratulate my NY rangers on their first cup win in 54 years. he gave me a little background on the project, told me to report to atlanta for 3 weeks of training on may 1, and he would see me in a few weeks.

9 months turned into 3 1/2 years. during that time, i lived in corporate housing in atlanta, moved kelly down there, got a dog, traveled the US implementing SAP at our 20 different plants, gained buckets of experience and made a lot of friends. three of those friends were the aforementioned dave, jim, and mike.

at 6 '3", i'm the 2nd shortest. dave is 6'6" and jim is 6'4"+. the three of us worked hard and partied even harder during those 3+ years. it seems like a lifetime ago, and they are cherished years of my life that i will never forget.

our collective love for sports developed into "guys sports weekends" that revolved around sports and drinking. trips included boston, new york, LA, tampa, chicago, detroit, green bay, cincinnati, dallas, columbus, and probably a couple i missed. trips were usually planned in either the early spring (hockey, basketball, and baseball) or the fall (hockey, football, and baseball). the level of sports could be pro, college, or even high school, it didn't matter. it always involved no voice on monday, excessive drinking, occasional brushes with law enforcement, mandatory cab rides, ejections from games and/or bars, tailgating, and usually some sort of violence or drama. There was never any golf, never any fancy steakhouse, and never any trip to vegas (no sports). the city didn't matter, the game didn't matter, the bar didn't matter, it was all about the 48 hours and making the best of it.

as the years went on, and life priorities shifted, the trips became less frequent. it's been 7 years since our GB trip.

7 years ago i was in my early 30s with no kids working in south FL, burning the candle at both ends with larry, kit, and jack, but that's a different post. in early november, i got an email from dave that read the following:

********************************************************************************

Anyone interested in a double-header? Bears-Seahawks at Soldier Field - kickoff 1PM EST (noon CST); then take your sloppy ass to United Center for ‘Hawks-Flames at 7PM (6 CST). I have a United voucher that I have to book and we have implementations in March/May… plus I have Wings @ Leafs, Wings @ Canadians and Flyers @ Phoenix already scheduled… Can’t drink like I used to, but a “Cincinnati” style day sounds interesting. Thoughts?

********************************************************************************

7 years ago, this trip would have been a layup, but with the two kids and a go-live scheduled for early january, it would be a long shot. i take the proposal to kelly, preceded by telling her how pretty she looked today. surprisingly, in a moment of weakness, she green lights it. i inform the crew that i'm in, but the trip normally only happens if all four are in.

all four are in.

i book the flight, use some marriott miles, and i'm all set.

it's a saturday morning flight at 8am. i land at 9:30, grab a train downtown, walk through the snow for a couple blocks, and meet mike and dave in the lobby of the marriott. dave had flown in from portland, OR, mike is from st. louis, MO, and jim is from atlanta, GA. jim is running late and will meet us later in the day.

mike, dave, and i saddle up to the bar and start drinking. we leave the hotel and go to another bar and continue to drink. dave has been complaining about how he hurt his foot during a 10 mile run that morning. he had his boots tied tight to prevent the swelling. we just called him a pussy and told him to keep drinking. he claims it was affecting his ability to make any decent pool shot, and clearly there may have been some truth to that. jim shows up with two other guys that he flew up from the ATL, one of whom (thad) i used to work with during the clinton administration.

here is dave, jim, and mike:

and yes, we are aware of the light coming out of jim's chest.

we literally stayed at this bar, betting on college basketball games, playing pool, and drinking beer for the entire evening. there may have been a late night cab ride to another bar, but i don't really remember. dave split off at midnight complaining about his foot. the complaint was met by more pussy comments and we parted ways.

while at the next bar, dave texted us this picture of his foot:

holy shit was my response too.

ok, so maybe he's NOT a pussy. he found out later from his doctor, that immediate and repeated beer consumption is NOT the proper treatment for this type of injury.

sunday

saturday was actually the lighter of the two days. we all had early flights out on monday morning, so we had to make the best of it on sunday. now, if it were up to me, seeing how i didn't get to bed until 2am on saturday nite, i would have slept in until 11, had a big breakfast, and headed over to the game. instead, the phone rings at 8am.

[me] hello?

[jim] dude, wake up.

[me] why?

[jim] we have to be at the hilton by 9am and it's a little after 8 now.

[me] huh? why?

[jim] that's when tailgating starts. c'mon, let's go. get mike up. we'll meet in the lobby.

my head is spinning, and my body is yearning for sleep. but there's no time for sleep.

we head to a local diner, i stock up on the essentials.....2 eggs over easy, corned beef hash, dry rye, french fries instead of hash browns, coffee, and a diet coke. it was a fucking home run.

we get into a cab and head to soldier field.

none of us had ever been to soldier field, and our collective experience for tailgating ranged from drinking beer in the parking lot, to finding a local bar next to the stadium. when we got there, neither existed. we quickly found a parking lot across the way where people tailgated. the goal was to find a tailgate that appeared to have:

1. excess alcohol

2. friendly group of people

3. see #1

we awkwardly tried the first group.

"hey man....we're from out of town. got any extra brews?"

"sorry," the guy said with a face that said 'get the fuck outta here'.

we tried the next group unsuccessfully.

then the 3rd....jackpot.

they were cooking cajun shrimp, had a table of booze, and welcomed us in. the first drink was a solo cup of ice and about 4 shots of jack daniels with a splash of coke.

good morning.

i actually received a text from my liver that simply read "WTF?"

it was the highlight of the weekend. we spent the next 3 hours with these guys, drinking jack, smoking cigars, and checking out their 26 inch rims, that i was randomly able to guess correctly.

"what are those, 26s?"

"yep, good eye."

"thanks."

we finally got into the game with a nice buzz going. bears/seahawks, who really gives a shit. a woman i work with, her brother works for the bears, so we got hooked up with some pretty decent tickets. the game was a bit of a blur, but then again, so were the next 10 hours.

some clips from the game:

now, a few things. it's a tradition to always root for your home team, regardless of what stadium you are in. for those of you who don't know jim (#51 above), he is a big cincinnati bengals fan, so it made perfect sense for him to wear his bengals jersey to a bears/seahawks game. he cleverly duct taped over the name on the back and replaced it with bears' hall of famer (dick) butkus to appease the locals.

however, it didn't stop him from yelling the 30 year old bengals chant "Who Dey! Who Dey! Who dey think gonna beat dem Bengals?"

a chant that in cincinnati would invoke a response of "Nobody!", but in chicago invokes crickets, as seen here:

we left the game, but on the way out, we somehow lost jim, whose cell phone coincidentally died. dave, mike, and i waited outside for jim for about 15 minutes, while dave tried to rally support for the detroit red wings, 3 hours prior to the start of the blackhawks/flames. albeit a western conference rival, he was still able to muster some support.

we were now three strong and needed to find a cab to the united center. dave had to piss and the only option was between a couple of cars in a neighboring parking lot. unfortunately, security did not like this. they chased us and we hopped on one of those bike trollies, which is essentially a guy with a cart on the back of his bike that holds two people. three of us got on this which was basically mike sitting on my lap and dave's. we cleared the security threat and the guy (wheezing) dropped us off at a place where cabs were more frequent. we piled into a cab and headed to a sports bar near the united center. the place was PACKED and had all the games on. i decided to just start pounding gin and tonics for no particular reason. we finally got a hold of jim about 30 min before the 6pm start time of the blackhawks game. he actually had wound up going back to the tailgate guys, and getting a ride back to the marriott with them.

we headed to the united center.

we were all drunk, perfect time to go see a hockey game.

i vaguely remember this, and i don't even know what they were selling, but it was a good opportunity for a group shot. jim, subtle as always, now sporting his blackhawks jersey after a wardrobe change from his bengals jersey.

here is the arena during the star spangled banner.

and here is jim:

alcohol starting to affect the muscle that keeps your tongue in your mouth....

i fucking LOVE hockey cheerleaders (and frankly, you don't even need the word 'hockey' in that sentence). not sure if they heard me professing my love for them or not. i'm still waiting for the phone call.

here is dave trying on a hat that i bought for kelly, along with gifts for the kids. again, this probably made a lot of sense at the time.

we got outside and continued to yell a combination of 'let's go rangers', 'let's go red wings', 'let's go blues', and the bengals chant. there was a guy on the street selling these, it seemed like a no-brainer to buy one.

back to the marriott. more drinking. it was now around 9:30pm.

i had to get up at 6:00am. at 10pm, i went upstairs, got my shit ready for monday morning, and passed out, just 34 hours after arriving.

16 years later, i still have a blast on these trips. they are far and fewer in between now, making each one that much more special. all in all, a great weekend. i had no voice on monday, and i look forward to the next trip.

doesn't vegas have some minor league teams???

abbeville, SC

2011-12-22T08:09:00.002-05:00

ever heard of it?

exactly.

i've been down here all week. MAN have we got a lot to talk about. try to figure out what's going on in this short video and you will receive a check for $100.

btw, if i'm ever recording you, if you say "don't put me on your blog", it's a lock that it will wind up there....

more to follow...

old washington mutual commercial

2011-12-13T09:46:00.001-05:00

i love the slight delay when he first puts the sushi in his mouth. classic.

new jersey explained

2011-12-07T18:30:00.002-05:00

it's tough being a jets fan

2011-12-06T17:44:00.003-05:00

omg, i saw this last night and it's hiLAAAARious. it's not funny because the kid is crying, it's funny because he knows the matchups in the upcoming weeks, which teams have bye weeks, which teams have a weaker schedule, and what the tiebreaker is for the playoffs......classic.

ENDIF

2011-12-05T20:53:00.002-05:00

One of least favorite questions to be asked is "what do you do for a living?"

My two standard answers are either "I'm in computers" or "I'm an IT consultant", depending on who is asking the question. If they wind up double-clicking on me, I will take them to level two, which is a 45 second high level description of what I do. On the rare* occasion that they want me to elaborate, I'll give them the two to three minute explanation of what I really do.

* this has happened like twice, and one of those times was during an interview

At the the risk of getting into too much detail, sometimes I need to analyze code and come up with solutions to help solve technical or business solutions. Please stay with me, I have a kind of funny story.

In "code", you can make things happen or not happen based on a series of commands. Example:

IF the rangers win tonight

THEN scott will be happy

ENDIF

IF and ENDIF are always nested around the condition being checked, in this case, whether or not the rangers win tonight.

I was sitting with another developer today while he was fixing an issue I was having, and I'm looking over his shoulder to make sure that he is doing what I'm asking. As he types ENDIF, I start my best Robert Plant impersonation of the song 'what is and what shall never be'. It's my favorite song off of zeppelin II. Here, go take 30 seconds out of your busy Monday evening/Tuesday morning to listen to the first 30 seconds. So good.....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xTQF89JiEJc&feature=youtube_gdata_player

It's such a fucking long shot of a reference, and I've been making this joke since 1995.

To date, not ONE developer has EVER picked up on the reference. Partially because most of them are typically not from this country, so 1960s classic rock references are usually lost on them. But it will not deter me from continuing to try.

ENDIF.

Differences between men and women, part 37

2011-11-30T20:59:00.002-05:00

So I'm back up in shit plains at RC. slow sports night here at the bar, but nothing wrong with watching red wings/lightning on a wednesday nite. It's pretty busy here tonight for some reason, but spirits are high. The Dow jumped almost 500 points today, Christmas is 25 days away, and most people are starting to cash in on their vacation time....

Not yours truly, unfortunately.

So I'm watching the game when all of a sudden the channel is changed to the lighting of the Christmas tree at Rockefeller center. There is al roker, who I just don't like for no particular reason, leading the countdown to the lighting.

5...4....3....2.....1....and the big tree lights up.

Yawn.

There are four women at the bar and about ten men. I shit you not, when the tree lit up, all four women clapped their hands and cheered loudlY.

Eric and I just look at each other and both say "women".

Eric Penney is the best bartender in tarrytown, new york

2011-11-30T20:39:00.001-05:00

Siri test, I will explain later.

jack in the box

2011-11-21T19:05:00.001-05:00

underwear commercial

2011-11-17T16:53:00.001-05:00

survivor winner is....

2011-11-15T20:15:00.001-05:00

brandon schreck, who finds himself $1,908 richer.

congratulations, brandon!

tough mudder I revisited: with jeff's perspective

2011-11-14T11:55:00.001-05:00

*****************************************************************************
my friend jeff, who ran the tough mudder with me, has co-authored his experience below in red. enjoy.
*****************************************************************************
i say tough mudder I because this will DEFINITELY be repeated.

but first, let's go back to tuesday morning.

the two kids have been sick for a week, and i've been trying to avoid getting sick. when i woke up tuesday, my throat was so sore, i had the same problem that one of my girlfriends from college had.

i couldn't swallow.

it wasn't just my throat, but the entire top of my esophagus. i gargled with salt water, ate some honey, bought some cough drops on the way to work, and started popping ibuprofen like they were smarties.

it was so bad during the day at work on tuesday, that that evening, i went to one of those urgent care centers up in westchester. for some reason, my right eye was tearing all day, which was a bonus. i couldn't tell if it was because of the pain of swallowing, or pink eye, or what.

at the doctor's, i explain my situation. she says she is going to test me for strep. she comes at me with these 10 inch Q-tips and i have flashbacks to when i was a kid and they would gag you with those things while testing you for strep.

their methodology has not changed, and i gagged like a girl. my head snapped back so quickly that she had to retest me while holding the back of my neck with the other hand. for some reason, it was kind of hot.

they take my vitals and i have a 99.7 degree temp, and it would probably be higher if i hadn't been taking the ibuprofen, she tells me.

she then gave me a vision test with the standard eye chart in the other room.

[doctor] cover your right eye (the bad gooping one) and read line 8.

[me] F-O-R-P-O-T-E-A

[doctor] ok, very good. now cover your left eye and read me line 8 again.

[me] well that's not really fair.

[doctor] why not?

[me, looking directly at her] because i have the line memorized already. it's F-O-R-P-O-T-E-A

[doctor] well then read line 9.

[me] i can't, it's too small.

[doctor] ok, well then just read line 8.

i kid you not, i look directly at her, with my left eye covered with my hand and i say to her, "F-O-R-P-O-T-E-A".

she didn't find it as amusing as i did. i then informed her that it spells "For Pot EA" and asked her if this clinic was pro-medicinal marijuana.

she told me no, but failed to see the humor.....again.

so back into the other room. on the way, i saw this room and snapped a picture. the doctor saw me snap the picture and asked why i was taking it. i told he i wasn't sure, but that it's DEFINITELY not a utility room where i would want to work.

crickets again.

the rapid test for strep cam back negative, but they would send it away for more tests and would know in 72 hours.

i thank her, get a prescription for some eye drops, and leave.

wednesday morning: same pain. i'm now 3 days away from the tough mudder.

thursday morning: slightly better, but not great.

friday morning: 50/50 now. i tell kelly it doesn't matter how i feel, i'm running this race. she ignores me and tells me i'm stupid. then we just start making out*.

* not true

i also get a call from the doctor that the strep test came back negative. awesome.

I was working at the lab that dayand saw a sample come in labeled Goodman. I can’t have him bail on me. Iswitch the sample with one labeled Goodsen. (Sorry Ms. Goodsen, but the extra anti-biotics won’t hurt you. I took a calculated risk here. And Scott, please make sure you pick up themail for the next week before Kelly, so she doesn’t see the letter from the lab. And no, you do not have Chlamydia. Well, at least an oral swab won’t show it.*)

*I’m lying, I have no idea whether an oral test willshow the presence of Chlamydia.

i call my buddy jeff who is also doing the race. he's going to pick me up at 6am. i pack a set of dry clothes in a duffel bag, and i layout my clothes for the race:

- under armour black stretch running pants
- cotton socks
- merrill shoes (vibrams)
- under armour long sleeve top
- cotton shirt with honey badger on it
- under armour gloves
- nike knit running hat

the race is 12 miles and has 32 obstacles, many of which are in water.

the forecast is sunny and windy, highs near 55.

jeff and i are wheels up at 6. it's 32 degrees out. our start time is 8:15am.

we get to raceway park, NJ and register. it's only 34 degrees out, we were hoping it would be at least 40. we both had the same training breakfast: a dunkin donuts coffee and chocolate frosted donut. you know, for the carbs.

we both had partially committed to the tough mudder training program which kicks your ass, but hadn't gotten in the 3 per week that we were supposed to. i hadn't run 12 miles since the marathon in '04, and i hadn't run over 5 in the last year.

but that's ok. if you can run 5, you can run 12. except for all the fucking obstacles. but who cares, it's too late now.

Last March I was kicking ass withthe tough mudder workout and running over 20 miles/week Best shape of the decade for me. This November, not so much. I’ve been running 5k’s all summer. I did run 12 miles once. That was the April tough mudder. I started the tough mudder routine again inSeptember and ended up at the chiropractor. Took a week off. Started toughmudder routine again. Chiropractor. Ok, fuck the routine, I’ll just run and seewhat happens…

there are over 10,000 runners at this event. they start at 8:00am and release about 600 people every 15 minutes. we are in wave 2.

7:59am: jeff and i are standing there watching all the 8:00am runners getting ready to take off when we realize that nobody knows whether we are in the 8 or the 8:15 so we decide that we will just take off at 8am. suddenly, my 15 minute of mental prep time is now reduced to about 30 seconds.

I’m staring at the empty stands,considering a quick stretch and a warm up jog. Scott turns to me and says “hey let’s go with the 8am people.” Insert cartoon image of person’s bodyshooting off in a cloud of smoke with their brain still standing in place. That’s how this 12 mile kick in the nutsbegins.

BOOM! the gun goes off, and the first obstacle begins. we are now chasing this thing for a couple hundred yards:

since jeff and i were in the back of the pack of 600, it didn't really effect us. we basically ran thru a field for about 1/2 mile, banged a U-turn, made a right, and came across the next obstacle. going up a wooden platform, and across a cargo net. it reminded me of one of the challenges from survivor. you quickly realize that you have four options: walk (no), crab walk (yes), crawl frontwards (yes), or roll (yes). throughout the entire course, you come across 4 of these. the last two you just figure out to roll.

not too bad, in fact, pretty easy.

we run for another 1/4 mile or so, and then the third obstacle.

fuck.

(yeah, fuck.)

in front of us are three 30 yard dumpsters. each one has a different color water. ice cold water. i start to take my gloves and hat off, with the strategy of keeping them above my head, when i realize that 1/2 way across it, you have to dunk under.

fuck.

(yeah, really, fuck)

and of course they put barbed wire above to prevent you from cheating, which i like. this was a common theme throughout the race.

now, i was smart enough to wait for the guy in front of me to make it under the wall before i jumped in. however, i didn't think it through all the way. i jump in and it's ICE cold. the water is up to my chest. i get to the wall and dunk underneath. when i come up the other side, there are TWO people who are trying to get out. their inability toe get out is keeping me in the water.

FUCK!

they finally get out and i'm able to lift myself out, but i've been in there for probably a minute.

i'm freezing. i see a cameraman and give him this look:

i look over at jeff, and he's in the same condition.

fuck it, let's keep moving. running will warm us.

the adrenaline is pumping. we're excited and we knew that this was coming. just the shock of the water was tough.

we run for another 1/4 mile while i ring out my gloves and hat and put them back on.

the next obstacle has more water...maybe. if you can hold on, you'll stay dry. i get on, grasp my feet around the plastic rope, and start across the pit of cold, muddy water. i can't see how far i've gone because i'm looking straight up. after some time, i look upside down at where i'm going, and i'm about 1/2 way. however, now i'm going uphill and i'm starting to strain. the grip is tough with the cold, wet gloves and i'm suddenly exerting a lot of energy. i'm 2/3 across when i decide to fall in.

We’ve been in the water only onceso far, but there is no fucking way on this earth that I am going to go back inthat water given the chance to NOT go in that water.

splash! whatever heat i had generated since the dumpster is instantly gone. i climb the mud wall at the other end and get out. jeff has made it across. we start running again.

I shimmied across not realizingthat scott was in the drink. I get alittle excited looking forward and seeing that the next obstacle (a net or wallor something) doesn’t involve water. Bring it on!

another 1/4-1/2 mile of running and trying to generate heat, more ringing out the gloves and hat, and then obstacle 4.

holy shit.

i would rank it the most difficult one of the day, for sure.

you have to traverse a freezing river...about 100 yards across. there is a thick rope to hold on to, but the water is up to my chest (and up to other's necks since i'm 6'3"). as you step into the river, the bottom is covered in mud and goes 1/2way up your calf. just to move forward is an issue and you have to keep pumping your legs and pulling on the rope to pull yourself forward. the shock of the coldness of the water is hitting my system hard. i speed up but quickly come across two guys moving slowly. i dunk under water so i'm on the other side of the rope now and pass them. jeff is right behind me.

I am shorter than scott. This is a neck deep horror show starting withthe “torso reflex.” Please try this athome. Go out in January and jump intosome really f’ing cold water and see what your chest does (heh, hard nipples…,no not that) You breathe in really hard, then stop. Commence freak out “please God don’t let medrown in front of all these people, that would be so embarrassing” mode. I start pulling the rope, legs doing thatspazy peddling a really small tricycle thing, catch up to Scott, and hope toChrist that someone in front of us peed to leave a warm spot.

we get to the other side, but you have to wait. you are in the water and waiting for someone to get up the ladder. the ladder is two pieces of nylon strap, with nylon straps for rungs.

i grab onto the bottom of one, neck deep in water. i look up and the guy above me is struggling with the ladder because it keeps twisting. i try to straighten it out so he can move up. finally he does, enough for me to step up and out of the water. now i'm just trying to hold on and the ladder twists back and forth as the guy above me struggles to make it up.

i see he is now at the top and trying to get onto the platform. i'm right behind him. it's hard for him to get onto the platform. he finally does and i make my way to the top.

i get to the top and realize the issue. your body weight pulls the ladder a little under the platform, so you have to kind of go out and up. i look up into the sun coming over the platform and see she shadow of this big dude who looks just like Seal. he's offering me his bent arm. "grab this," he tells me. it's just what i needed. thank God. he pulls me up and over. i thank him and he's gone back down the other side.

ah, i get it. i thought he worked the platform. no, he's a participant. i turn around and look down onto the ladder and there's a guy struggling just as i was. i kneel down, bend my arm and say, "grab this." he does, and i take off down the platform as he turns around to help the next guy.

this type of comradery was a constant them throughout the course and was one of the things i loved about the event.

So I watch Scott go up theladder. I’m treading water, staringstraight up at some guys muddy ass, which is dripping in my face, and realizethat I’ve made the same Goddamn mistat that I make every week at the Shoprite. I’ve picked the f’ing slow lane again. How the hell is this possible? Jesus man, use the debit card, don’t pull outyour check book!!!

Oh, and I tread water in anythingover 30”. I have this strange footphobia in murky water. It’s kind offunny if you’re not fucking frozen and afraid of drowning. So, I think I probably could have stood andwaited to get up this damn ladder. Nope,I’m treading, and really having trouble shaking the word “drown” out of myhead.

I got a “I got ya brother” by theguy that pulled me up at the top, and a “thanks brother” from the guy that Ipulled up. A lot of “brotherin” going onhere. I pause for 2 seconds and have a“people ain’t so fucking bad” moment, then I’m gone.

i'm fucking frozen. i can't feel my hands. i stop to take a piss and my penis is so numb it actually tells me to go fuck myself, which i inform him i can't do without him, which he didn't find amusing.

jeff finishes helping his guy, and we're off down the trail, paralleling the river.

I may have made a joke atthis point about my penis or testicles leaving the course and getting in thetruck to go home. The humor ended when Iactually felt my testicles emerge from my rib cage, into my armpits… At least they’re safer there… We move on…
I'm ringing out my hat and gloves and i look up ahead.

i'm ringing out my hat and gloves and i look up ahead.

for fuck's sake.

Hat off, Gloves off, can’tfeel hands. Commence steadyshivering… I know already that we’reback in that goddamn water in 2 minutes. I can see the tower. Yay, atrifecta of my biggest fears: heights, drowning, and cold. Holy shit, I paid to do this??? Twice??? Boy, are you retarded or just stupid?

a quarter mile up, there is the next obstacle. returning across the river.

the water is killing me. i'm shivering and i'm soaked. we climb the platform and i look down. it's about a 20 foot drop back into the river. we are told not to jump out, but straight down, because that is where the river is deepest.

i put my hat in my hand and i make the jump and splash in. it's so cold. as i'm underwater, i'm trying to kick back up to the surface, but it's tough with all the clothes and shoes on. i make my way up to the surface and find the rope and start pulling and pumping my legs. the mud is so thick on the floor of the river.

I hate this moment. I hate it, hate it hate, hate it. I’m up high. I less than a second I’ll be down low in a place where you’re notallowed to breath. I have a lapse of judgmentand do legs together and drop like a torpedo. That means I go deeper. I sink,then ascend, I swear it felt like 30 seconds to reach the surface. Head pops up, deep breath, find the shallowarea, grab rope, look across. That is along ass walk to reach land. Fuck this,fuck this, fuck this. I start marchingto the “fuck this” cadence hoping to not lose a shoe in the muck on the bottom.

i make it across and pull myself out through the muddy bank and stand up. i look over at jeff and i'm looking in a mirror. we're cold and we need to keep moving.

Scott has a magical mirror thatreuturns an image of himself much handsomer and more charming than his actualself…

as we start running, we pass the 2 mile sign.

2 miles.

10 to go.

With 10miles to go, optimism pokes through. It’s a small shriveled optimism, much like my penis at this point, but10 miles is a doable run. It’s somethingthat can be done without planning food stops. It’s an hour and change on flat, solid, dry ground. Oh right, no solid, no flat, no dry. Well, we’ve got 10 miles left, but we’re outof that god forsaken slime hole and I might, just might, be able to harnesssome of the sun’s rays with my black Underarmor Coldgear (insert logo here)shirt… Yes, things are looking up aslong as we don’t have to go in the fucking water again.

we both complain of extreme quad fatigue. the pumping of the legs in the water and the climbing of the rope has left them screaming. should have done more squats during training.

we run for probably a mile now. extremely welcomed. more ringing out of gloves and hat. the under armour is working because it's not allowing the water to stay on me and keeps the heat i generate in. the cotton shirt seems to be holding the heat in as well. jeff only has the under armour shell on, but he seems to be doing well too.

Still can’t feel my hands as werun. I put them under my pits to getsome warmth and confirm that indeed my testicles are still hiding upthere. Little pussies…

I wring out my hat. It’s still that fluorescent green shit thatwas in the dumpster. How could thatstill be in my hat? Am I trippin’? In 3 miles, I find that I may actually be…

we come to the next obstacle. a giant mountain of hay. simple enough in theory, but the pitfall here is your footing. giant holes exist everywhere. not to mention that on your way down the other side, your quads are shaking, making navigating the holes a little more difficult. but again, i'll take it.

From here forward, I assess everyobstacle as “warm” or “not warm”. Hay iswarm. I am happy. I want to make a nest, but fight the urge andmove on.

as we cross the 3 mile mark, we come across the berlin walls. they are about 8-9 feet tall. there is a tiny little piece of 2x3, about 6 inches long that allows you to step up a little. for me, if i jumped, i could reach the top of the wall. you have to pull yourself up to the top, bring your leg over, crush your balls (which at this time, are like a golfball, clinging to your body for heat), bring the other leg over, and drop down the other side.

Climbing obstacles: big fan because they are a “warm”obstacle. Nutted myself on secondwall. Not as painful since nuts havemigrated out of my scrotum… Crisisaverted.

not to bad. i turn to run and there's another wall just like it.

fuck.

this time, as i'm pulling myself up to the top, i feel a little shimmy in my shoulders and arms. after dropping down this time, i land a little harder. jeff complains of the shimmy as well, and misery loves company. we keep running.

I believe Scott dubbed this Jimmy arm. The triceps muscle does it’s job, but onlyunder official protest, kind of like “I’ll carry your weight, launch you overthis wall, but if you try this again, you’ll land on your chin, bitch!”

the next obstacle was probably one of the top 3 most difficult. it's called the mud mile. it's a long trench, about 100 yards long, filled with cold water. the hardest thing about this one was that the terrain was uneven and invisible because it's underwater. it reminded me of the scene from Escape from New York when kurt russel was crossing the bridge trying to avoid the hidden mines.

This is a “not warm” obstacledisguised as a “warm” obstacle. It’sjust a bunch of mud right? Sure, exceptfor the fucking 5 foot deep holes randomly placed throughout. Great chance to dry off if you have the powerof levitation. I do not. Back in the drink. Fucking mud mile…

as your trying to cross like this:

this kept happening:

so granted, the average depth was waist height, but between the 5 foot holes in the bottom, and the unevenness, i probably went in 5 times. not to mention, it's wreaking more havoc on your quads because you have to keep pulling your feet out of the mud.

we climb out of the trench, and start running again. we're as cold as ever.

At this point I am nowshiver-dancing. To steal a Band of Brothers quote “I’m shivering somuch, I feel like I’m dancing.” At thispoint I distinctly remember trying to say something to Scott and it sounding asif I had that orange ball Ving Rhames has in his mouth in Pulp Fiction.Commence, “I’m not ok” mode…

shortly thereafter, we enter the motorcross track. hills of mud that are kept wet with sprinklers everywhere. you can just casually jog it, because on the uphills you need to get enough speed to make it to the top, and on the downhills, you need to maintain enough speed so you don't slip and fall.

at the top of one of the hills, i decide to do this, but on my ass:

Scottslides down on his ass, I think to myself “silly muthafucka gonna tear up hisass”.

the good news: i made it down the hill fast
the bad news: i tore the back of my pants open and shredded my leg up.

damn it.

the hole wasn't that bad (3 inches x 3 inches), but it let a lot of cold air in.

Sonow, anytime I’m behind Scott, I get the “hairy ass cam.” And I wish I was that hairy because I’d bewarmer…

for what seemed like the next mile or so, it was up and down small and large hills, some wetter than others. the little sprints on the uphills sucked, but it beat having to walk up them.

then, the next obstacle, called kiss of mud. it was a field of wires and barbed wires, 8 inches off the ground.

that's enough that each time you had to crawl under a wire, you had to turn your head so it would fit under. army crawling through this mess wasn't that bad, it's just using muscles that you don't use that often. while i was in there, i was side by side with this hot 20-something i had been following for some time now. while we were crawling along, i turned to her and said, "you have something on your face," (which was covered in mud). she replied smiling, "i'm a dirty girl."

"i have that bumper sticker," i tell her, which got a reaction reminiscent to a soiled utility room.

You’recold, your wet, you need motivation. Some pull deep within to find that shining beacon of achievement toweringat the finish line. Howerver, a wellformed ass in spandex will work in a pinch though. Thank you nice butted woman. We carry on…

up and out, and keep running. we're now around mile 4. next obstacle, an A frame. not too bad.

more running. i ask jeff how he's doing and he says not well. he can't warm up. his teeth were chattering uncontrollably and i tell him let's just keep running and our bodies should warm up. we come across another set of berlin walls, but these are an additional 2 feet taller. there are 45 degree boards coming out where you can awkwardly use your foot to push off and grab for the top, at which point, you must heave yourself up and over, then drop 10 feet.

Iam now officially hypothermic. Uncontrollable shivering: check. Inability to speak clearly or at all: check. the “umbles” (mumble, bumble, stumble, insertadditional umble here): check. I nowperceive things from about a foot behind myself. Two analogies: a concussion, or 2-3 balloonsat a Dead concert. The big ones. The 10 dollar ones. wah wah wah wah wah wah… (Either you get this reference or you don’t.) My jaw is clinched so tight that I havetrouble telling Scott that I’m not good…

again, the downside of this is there are two of them. i got the same jimmy-arms at the top of the 2nd wall as fatigue was setting in. we clear the walls and keep running.

jeff is not warming up. he does not look well. i offer my gloves, but he doesn't want them. i offer him my wet t-shirt, but he says he'll fight through it. the next obstacle is a quarter pipe called Everest.

you must get enough speed to run up the slippery ramp and grab onto the edge and pull yourself up, or use someone at the top. i made it on the first try, thank God.

Inspite of being all together not well, I like this obstacle. Run as fast as you can and fling yourselfonto a quarter pipe. Someone at the top helps yank you. Heh, yank.

when we crawled down the other side, i see jeff just leaning against the wooden wall trying to get heat off the boards. he's freezing and he's shivering. he looks purple.

Climbingdown the back of the quarter pipe I felt the wood frame. It is sooooo warm. I start to hug it. I’m not just shivering now. I’m so cold that even my thoughts areshivering. Scott asks if I’m ok. A guy on top of the pipe asks if I’m ok. I’m not ok. Really.

"i need help," he says. up ahead, there is a water station. they tell us there is a medical tent up ahead. as i go over the vertical jump obstacle (more like vertical step as i wolf down a cliff bar), jeff checks into the medical tent.

i walk into the tent (about 20 feet x 20 feet) and there are four medical personnel in there. jeff has a foil cape on and is sitting in front of the only heater trying to warm up. he is shaking so badly and he can't stop. his lips are purple. i take his hat and gloves and hang them in front of the heater to try to dry them out. i also take the opportunity to get my ass rip stitched up with a couple of safety pins.

i stayed with jeff for about 15 minutes, after which i asked him what he wanted to do. he was still shaking as badly as he was when we entered. you don't want to fuck around with hypothermia. i ask one of the security guys who had just pulled up on an ATV if there were any water obstacles left of the course. he laughed out loud and said, "uh, yeah....a lot"

jeff had a few options. i asked him what he wanted to do and he said he'll meet me at the finish line. i felt bad. i know he didn't want to bail, but the women in the tent were advising him not to continue in his condition. i wished him luck and took off.

Thetent was an oasis. Scott guides mein. I am quasi-compos mentis andhonestly didn’t realize that he left me there and went back on the coursebefore coming back again. I cann-n-n-n-ot st-st-st-st-op, shiv-iv-iv-ivering. Every little breeze that moves the tent walls feels like an articwind. At some point I do remember Scottgetting his ass mended. At this pointhe’s working the room full of female EMT’s like a lodge in the Catskills. I actually turned away from the heater tocatch the act. An EMT rubs my back forabout 3 seconds and I swear it was the best backrub I’ve ever received. 10 minutes go by. I’m mentally back but shaking like I’ve gotthe DT’s. 15 minutes, I stop. Just kidding! I start shaking again. Two other guys pack in next to me in front of the heater. I wanted to stick the that thing down myshirt. Scott is back (or did he leave? I don’t even know the timeline at thispoint.) He looks at me and asks if I’mok. I say, “yeah, I’ll meet you at thefinish line.” Still can’t stopshivering. This is ridiculous, what thefuck is wrong with me? Scott gives methe nod and takes off. I am so pissed atmyself right now I can’t think. Put intoperspective, this is a stupid thing to be pissed about. but then again, if you had the ability ofperspective you wouldn’t pay someone to jump in a cold lake and run 12 miles,would you? Then it getsinteresting… I’m finally not shiveringmore than I’m shivering and ready to go. Then three strippers walk into the tent. 6 miles in the mud or a show? This is a no brainer so I sit back down. Things get a bit uncomfortable because I’ve got no cash. I go to the door of the tent and point to theparking lot. Its about a mile away and you can almost see my truck. I say “my wallet’s in there, there’s someextra in it for your patience.” Happyfun times ensue. The EMT shakes me, “youok?” Turns out I am ok. I’m cold, but I’mok. I step outside my tent, stilldonning the silver space blanket. Imight need this again. So I stare out towardsthe parking lot. It’s about a two milewalk to get to the truck. In shame. It’s 6, mostly (gulp) dry miles to finishline, beer, and my pride back. I gallopover to the “hurdles.” I’m feeling good, legs are strong, I’m back in itbaby!!!

*Sidenote: for those EMT’s this was like avacation, dealing with silly little horsehit like cold people. Don’t ever skimp on your donations to localRescue Squads and Fire Departments. These people kick ass in a way that kicks other ass kickers asses! Was that in English? You get my point bitch! DONATE!

30 seconds later it hit me. my teeth were chattering uncontrollably. the 15 minutes stop had cooled my body way too much. i was soaked and i was cold. a half mile later, no change. i just kept running. i knew i just needed to give my body time to warm up.

Ihit the track. It’s a dry obstacle, andAngry Jeff emerged from the tent. I’mnow going to say “fuck you Jobu” to the next 6 miles of this course. I know that I don’t have to go back in thatshit box pond/lake/river thing because it’s on the other side of the course atthis point. I’m starting to feel a bitlike Lieutenant Dan strapped to the mast of Jenny 1 in Forrest Gump. My fitness reckoning is now. I’m passing people. A lot of people. The Rocky theme starts playing…

the other thing i noticed was how lonely it was without jeff. it was completely different. not to mention he would constantly remind me to slow down my pace, because i have a hard time not thinking it's a race (it's not, they don't even time it...it's all about finishing).

the next obstacle was running through a field of tires. not too bad at all, although my quads didn't appreciate it.

then, you enter an actual racetrack, where you have to pick up one of the tires you see above, and run with it for about 1/2 mile. the hardest thing about it was figuring out which way to hold the tire, as it was rather heavy. i went with around the neck:

Igrab a tire, I bite it (ok not really) and take off. In my previous mudder event we had to carrylogs. These things are about ½ theweight and angry Jeff fears not tires. I’m passing people…

you finish that, dump your tire, and head to the next obstacle.

fire.

two rows of giant hay bales burning, with a trench of mud and water thigh-deep. the fire is hot. very hot. there are several firemen around in full gear. when you enter the trench, the call out, "man in," or when 2 people entered, they would yell, "2 in!" you could barely see through the smoke, and breathing was a major issue. but hey, at least it was warm.

Ifucking love fire! Because if there’sfire, you’re not neck deep in the fucking cold deep! I go through alone. It’s strangely quiet. I miss Scott (sniff)! But seriously though, Scott would not stoptalking for the first 5 miles. Whenyou’ve got running commentary and a constant interviewer with you, shit fliesby. Now I’m counting the yardage… I’ve got to catch that fucking guy!

out of the fire, more running as i pass the mile 7 marker. then, i look around and can't figure out where to go. then i see it. i'm going underground into tunnels. it's dark, and there is not a lot of room. also, once you are in there, it's pitch black except for the light coming in from the entrance.

however, the tunnel make a sharp left turn, then you crawl for about 20 more feet, then a sharp right turn for about 40 feet before you are out. between the turns is pitch dark. the walls are pure mud, they tunnel is half full of water, and it's not tall enough to allow you to crawl. you must half army crawl, 1/2 spider crawl. it tough on the abs and the arms. finally, i see, literally, the light at the end of the tunnel and crawl out. if you're claustrophobic, this is your nightmare obstacle.

out of the tunnels. more running. i come across a Survivor-esque challenge of a balance beam over a water pit. i did NOT want to be in more water. i make it across without falling in. i thank my merrill shoes.

off the beam, and i continue to run.

then, more tunnels. these, a little more difficult.

1. they are smaller than the last, which i can't believe
2. they are filled 2/3 with water
3. the go downhill, then uphill. during the middle part, you are trying to keep your head above water without taking in a mouthful of water. you don't even want to consider the fact that your are in such a tight space. on the uphill part as you trying to get out, the surface of the inside of the tunnel is a smooth PVC. there is absolutely no grip. you have to push yourself against the side of the tunnels and inch your way up. you feel trapped and exhausted, but you don't want to panic. not to mention, there is someone behind you who is trying to keep his head above water while waiting for you to inch your way up. this was a tough one.

oh, and there are two set of these tunnels. in between, you can't get out because it's covered with barbed wire, so no bailing.

as i'm struggling to get a grip to get out, i see an arm reaching for me. "grab my hand," he says. he's about 3 feet from my position. i keep inching forward and extend my arm until finally i reach him. he yanks me out, turns, and takes off. i turn around, look in the tunnel and see a guy bracing the walls trying to inch forward. he looks up at me. i extend my arm, "grab my hand," i tell him. he finally makes it to me, i pull him out, i turn around and take off. i look back and see him reaching in the tunnel. i love that for some reason.

1/2 mile later, i enter a pit of logs. there are arrows telling you to go over the log, or under the log. when it's telling you to go under, there is barbed wire on top to prevent you from going over. so you HAVE to go under. some of the logs only had 8 inches or so of space to go under, so you are scraping your cheek as you squeeze under.

more running, and as i pass the 8 mile mark, i do a little update of where i am.

i've got 4 miles left, a casual saturday run. i'm cold, but not shivering anymore. my quads hurt, but they don't burn. my legs are fatigued, but they still have some miles on them. all in all, i feel pretty good.

next obstacle: devil's beard.

during the training for this thing, there was an exercise where you do push-ups with two 20 pound dumbbells. after you push yourself up, you then pick one dumbbell up, twist your torso, and raise it straight up in the air. then, you bring it down and repeat with the other arm.

i didn't understand what the purpose of this exercise was until now.

devil's beard is a giant red cargo net that you must crawl under for about 60 feet. you have to crawl on your hands and knees with your head lowered all the way down so that the top of your head is basically scraping along the ground. every now and then you would get stuck, and you would have to take an arm, grab the net, and throw it straight up in the air and move forward. the exact same motion that was used in training.
when i was in the net, there was nobody else but one person in front of me. i tried to tail him to take advantage, but it didn't help that much. when i got to the end, he was standing there lifting the net so i could get out. i took it from him and did the same for the next guy.

Ihave a veteran mudder moment here. People are stuck under the net slogging along. I come in standing, arch my back, raise thenet and start walking. People come inbehind me. I tell them to get next to meand we can all walk through it if we stay together. We catch up to a girl on her belly. We free her up to move forward faster. It’s a teamy, let’s kick ass togethermoment. I am happy. I’m off…

i take of again and i'm looking for the mile 9 marker but i can't find it. i know that if i'm searching for mile markers that i'm tired. i remember that from the marathon. for the next 3/4 mile or so, it was more running up and down muddy hills in the motorcross course, and then the course turns into the woods.

ahhh, my sweet spot. the woods. when i run at home, we run in the fields and the woods. i feel at home.

for about 100 yards.

a huge cargo net, about 20 feet straight up. some big bodybuilder guys who were all wearing green shirts as part of a team were helping each other my holding the bottom while the other guys went up and over. i took advantage i jumped on while one of them was holding it. i got to the top, sat on my balls for the third time that day, and came down the other side. i then held the net for the next guy.

as we kept running, we entered a marsh of dark brown mud. i saw some guys struggling in it, and then a guy comes flying past me running through it and doing it more successfully. so i get right behind him and start running fast through it, which worked much better.

through the woods, i'm still looking for the 9 mile mark. where the FUCK is it.

the trail stops and there is a small stream about 6 feet down. you have to slide into the stream bed, which wasn't that bad. but then you have to get up the muddy embankment on the other side...again, about 6 feet high. i try a running start, but there's nothing to grab at the top. a guy sees me and extends a hand, pulling me up as i jump. i get to the top and instinctively look back to see if there was anyone to help. one of the green shirt muscle dudes had just entered the stream bed. he tried one jump as i did and couldn't do it either. i extend my arm, and as he jumps, i grab his arm and yank him up. he thanks me and i take off through the woods.

I’mhauling ass at this point and feeling really good. How the hell was I such a mess 45 minutesago? I get to this gully. 6 people stuck in it. 6 people lined up to go in it Someone clears it with decent long jump form. Fuck it, I miss and I’m in mud (notwater!) 5 step acceleration:cleared. The crowd cheers (not really.)On to the next obstacle.

i see a sign up ahead. finally.

mile 10!!!!

Inretrospect, I don’t think there was a mile nine marker. Scott and I both had the warp moment, Ithought it was mile 8 but most likely it was the same as him. A one mile warp should be bottled and sold ina liquor store.

fuck yeah!

Amen.

i must have missed mile 9. awesome.

awesome awesome.

only 2 to go. i feel great. i have energy (water and food stations were along the route....bananas, cliff bars, water, etc), i'm not cold anymore, and i still have legs left.

i come out of the woods and see a pond but the arrows are taking me to the right. you have to run around this big pond and as i cross mile 11, i see the next obstacle. the monkey bars.

i don't have a pull-up bar at home, so i was worried about this one. i've never been very good at the monkey bars, and this obstacle had a lot of them.

at the water station right before the obstacle, the guy told me to stay away from the first set. so i went to the last (there were a 1/2 dozen or so). my hands are soaked, but i decide to keep the gloves on for grip. i jump up and grab the first rung and feel every pound of my body pulling on my arms. i go to the 2nd, the 3rd, the 4th, etc until i hit about 8. it was ascending, which wasn't helping. i was 1/3 of the way across and decided to save my energy and drop in. it's only a mile to go, so the cold won't kill me. this pic was probably right before i dropped in:

i drop in.

i'm anticipating 6-8 feet of water.

there was about 2-3. i went in with my legs straight, not thinking. my left foot hits the bottom of the pond with my leg straight. my knee pops and i collapse into the water yelling as a sharp pain travels up my left leg into my hip. a couple guys ask if i'm all right and i say i'm okay. but i'm not.

my left leg is screaming in pain. i pull myself out of the water and onto the platform and try to put weight on it. i can, but barely. i start running, but can only manage a limping jog at best. it's less than a mile, so i just push on.

Ifthis was set up as a relay, the monkey bars are where I’d be stationed. I love monkey bars. I take the kids to the park and I play on themonkey bars (Fuck you 150 weight limit sign!) Most people think they should be overhanding these things like anorangutan. No, it’s an underhand deal,and you keep your face right up in the bars with your arms bent. I getcompliments on my form as I cross (really, “now that’s how it’s done.”) I leave a cloud of smoke as I blow by…

the next obstacle, more water, for fuck's sake.

however, the difference with this one was that it was deep, so you had to swim. you had to swim out to three sets of barrels that were floating in the water. then, you had to go under water to clear them. three times. while swimming. my knee actually felt okay in the water because there was no weight on it, but i'm tired and my body feels heavy in the water. i make it through and crawl out thru the mud.

No,No, No!!! God damn water!!! And I know this one’s deep. I stand at the pond’s edge and a few peopledive in past me. I’m like a cockerspaniel that really really wants that ball you threw in the water, but realizes(like me) that getting it will be a cold, energy sapping bitch.) I’m not a strong swimmer. I go in, doggy paddle/side stroke to thefirst set of barrels, dive under, come up, get a bit nervous, dive, up, repeat. I get to the edge and it’s still pretty damndeep. Finally, I get to where I can pullsome weeds to get out and BONUS! silver space blankeys! I grab one, fashion it into an ascot andproceed. Unbelievable how much warmthyou retain by keeping your neck warm (and looking like a Ken doll.)

i take off hobbling again and then i hear bryan adams in the distance singing 'summer of '69'. i'm close to the finish line. i run the last 3/4 mile with a little more pep in my limp and hit the final obstacle. a field of yellow strings, some of which carry an electrical current. i get zapped once, but i barely feel it because i can see the finish line and beer stand ahead.

Iknow what’s left now: A cargo net, someelectric shocks, and, yes, beer! Cargonet: I roll, easy peasy lemon squeezy. Iapproach the electrified wires. I’ve gotwhat might be metal wrapped around my neck. I Tuck my blanket/ascot in my pocket. Hey, would you run 12 miles justto get fried because of an aluminum scarf? I get to the wires: oh, they’ve softened a bit; you can crawl under thewires now. Couldn’t do that in April… Army crawl and the homeland awaits.

i high five the woman at the finish line holding the microphone cheering people on and get an orange headband put around me. you get one free dos equis at the end of the race and the beer stand is right there.

sweet nectar.

Thecute girl with the microphone asks how I feel. I smile and say “like shit!” Headband comes on my head, t-shirt on my shoulder, and yes, a “free”beer. Due the ridiculous shivers, Ithrew it all over the place. I got maybehalf of it though. I’d venture it tastesvery similar to the one I’ll have in April…

2 hours and 10 minutes, excluding the 15 minutes in the medical tent with jeff.

now, i have to find him. my cell phone is in his truck, and all we said was "i'll meet you at the finish line."

i sip my beer and within 2 minutes, my body starts telling me how cold it is. it's amazing how fast that happened after i stopped moving.

i find a heat lamp and look around for jeff.

i can't seem to find him, so i just start watching runners finish as i try to warm up. then, i spot him.

he's finishing the race! fucking awesome. i run over to greet him as we shared our beers. he had spent another 10 minutes or so in the tent and had finally stopped shivering and then went back out on the course.

we got changed into our dry clothes and decided to head home. i couldn't get warm, even in the truck with the heat blasting. during the ride home, the body started to feel it's injuries, and by sunday, i was able to take inventory of my situation:

Injuries:

for24 hours I had temperature fluctuations like that of a menopausal woman. Muscles seem to be responding to repeateddoses of alcohol…

- the hole in my pants on my ass (different asshole) had about 10 inches of what now looks like road burn on my ass and back of my left leg
- i can't bend my left knee (still swollen from the monkey bar fall)
- my metatarsal (ball of my left foot) is swollen to twice its size
- variety of cuts and scrapes
- large bruises on both forearms (probably from crawling)
- abs that hurt so much that i can sit up to get out of a chair
- the area between the top of the foot and the front of the leg, whatever that's called, hurts terribly
- sore shoulders
- bruised ribs
- hammies, quads, and calves are all sore

as i limp around the house, kelly reminds me that i'm 40 and i'm too old to be doing this.

"i'm doing the one in allentown in april," i tell her, as this was one of the most exciting things i've ever done.

i already have 6 people who want to do the allentown one. if you want in, let me know. it's not a race, it's just a long obstacle course.

for more information on the tough mudder, visit them at http://toughmudder.com/

for more pics from the NJ event, go here: http://toughmudder.com/event-photos/tri-state-2011/

i can't wait for april.......

survivor: week 9 results

2011-11-07T08:50:00.002-05:00

survivor: down to 4

2011-10-31T11:43:00.000-04:00

if you listened carefully enough on sunday, you could actually hear brandon, john, and scott's sphincters tightening throughout the giants/dolphins game.

down to the final 4. i'm just glad my rams are making a run at a 10-6 wildcard birth!

golf: the most dangerous sport

2011-10-26T08:34:00.001-04:00

and then there were 6....

2011-10-25T08:16:00.003-04:00

or is it "then there was 6"....i'm not sure, i always forget that one. either way, there are 6 left.

learning to walk

2011-10-20T14:44:00.000-04:00

claire's record # of steps is up to 8. jack likes to mimic her falling to her knees while trying to walk. i don't know why he's such a wiseass, he must get it from his mother....

survivor results: week 6

2011-10-18T08:25:00.002-04:00

clutch hitting - kind of

2011-10-17T16:34:00.001-04:00

honey badger

2011-10-13T09:09:00.002-04:00

flow rida graph

2011-10-11T17:01:00.000-04:00

survivor: week 5

2011-10-11T08:46:00.001-04:00

the big 4-0

2011-10-10T22:51:00.000-04:00

blah blah blah, i turned 40. i'm still going to say inappropriate things and drink miller lite.

this was the highlight of my day. jack is HOOKED on birthday cake. claire just screams at random times, but is becoming the BDC junkie herself...

did you notice jack's perfect form in the beginning of the vid from all the "kobe" basketball shots we've been doing with rolled up socks and the hamper?

also, i'm aware of at least 4 times where i should have said "that's what she said", but you can't get them all in. can you find the 4 times? i took the liberty of saying one of them in the video...the other ones you'll have to find on your own.

it's not that hard.*

author's note: kelly only had 24 candles, which was a HUGE OCD violation for me. however, the fact that it was exactly 60% of 40 made up for it....

* that does not count as one

canadians are funny: part 2

2011-10-05T14:10:00.002-04:00

survivor: week 4 results

2011-10-04T08:26:00.001-04:00

the edgewalk

2011-10-01T11:56:00.004-04:00

so about 2 months ago, i saw something online about "the edgewalk" opening on august 1. the edgewalk is a one and a half meter platform, with no railings, at the top of the CN tower in toronto....1168 feet above the ground.

for some perspective, the washington monument is only 555 feet tall and the empire state building is 1250 feet tall.

so i quickly put it on my "things i have to do before i leave toronto" list. since i only have a couple more weeks up here, i decided to do it yesterday.

note: for the past year, we have been designing a new system for the client where i am working. we launch this coming tuesday. as a tradition for "go lives", all men have to grow goatees for 3 weeks (think playoff hockey). if you already have a goatee, you have to change to something different. for me, that meant either a 70s porn mustache, or handlebars. i went with the latter. october 7th couldn't come soon enough to shave this thing off.

the edgewalk
there were two of us...brian and i. also, there were 4 girls in our group who were celebrating one of the girls' 30th birthday. we get briefed in the briefing room by our guide and go thru a airport-like security screening, have to pass a breathalyzer test, and get suited up in our red convict jumpsuits. next, we have to put on special shoes and step into a harness with two circular rings. the harness also doubles as what i referred to as a "crotch accenuater". we take the 100+ floor ride up in the elevator to another room where another round of safety checks occur to ensure we are all belted and locked in. along the ceiling are two rails with thick nylon ropes and clips that clip onto our circular rings on our backs and fronts.

our guide puts the girls out front and asks brian and me who is less scared. i inform her that i am less afraid, judging by the shit stains on the back of brian's jumpsuit. so i line up in the 6th and last position. we get locked in, they open the doors, and we walk out over toronto.

after getting our bearings straight, and trying to get used to the slight vertigo feelings, our guide asks me to be the first to walk out onto the ledge and let my feet hang over the edge, put my arms out to my side, and look down. i'm successful. the rest follow.

our next task is to turn around with our backs to the ledge, get down in a crouch until the harness begins to hold your weight, and crab walk backwards to the edge. once on the edge, hand 1/2 your feet over the edge, lean back, and extend your legs. then spread your arms, look down, and try not to pass out. also, be sure that the harness pins one of your testicles to your leg, a feeling that you can somehow ignore when you're praying that you don't fall to your death.

as disturbing as that was, the next one was more so. now you must lean FORWARD over the edge. at least with the crabwalk one, you can see the rope and rail in front of you. but when you are leaning forward, you must wait for the slack of the rope to tighten on your shoulder as you lean forward. the problem is, it doesn't tighten until you're really past that point of no return, so you must trust the rope to catch you. you can see that brian has a little problem with this.

after that, we were given time to walk around, they took some pictures of us, and we got to do more edgewalking and hanging. it's funny how much more comfortable you are at this point after just 20 minutes or so.

all and all, a GREAT and unique experience.

here are some pics:

stairmaster

2011-09-29T09:39:00.001-04:00

the collapse

2011-09-29T08:57:00.003-04:00

as a yankee fan, there were a lot of mixed emotions last night,and there were a lot of games to follow.

having already clinched the division (ho-hum), it came down to whowe would play in the first round. since we can't play the wild-card(boston or tampa, we'll get back to that), it has to be detroit or texas. detroit has an unreal pitching staff, including 24 game winner justinverlander. texas was last year's ALCS winner, but the yanks match up wellagainst them. now going into last night, TX had a 1 game lead overdetroit (record-wise). if detroit were to win, and TX lose, that means theywould be tied, and since TX had a better record against detroit, it would meanthat TX would play the yanks in the first round, not detroit. so lastnight, i'm rooting for detroit to win and TX to lose (both wound up winning).

now, the wildcard.

i hate the red sox....i really do. i hate what happened in2004, i hate youkilis, i hate ortiz, i still hate manny, ihate pappelbaum...they're just all a bunch of dirtbags.

the red sox were 7-20 in september, their worst since 1952.

the red sox never won consecutive games in september.

the rays were 9 games back of boston on september 4. goinginto last night, they were tied. if both teams win, or if both teamslose, there would be a playoff game between tampa and boston on thursday todecide the wildcard.

so here's the situation. the yankees are playing the raysand baltimore is playing the blowsox. i don't really want the red sox inthe playoffs at all, because of my hatred for them. however, the sportsfan in me kind of does want them, i think it's "good for the game".

texiera hits a grand slam against the rays in the 2nd. the yanks take a 7-0 lead into the 8th inning. the game is all but over. boston is leading 3-2 in baltimore, but they are in a rain delay in the7th. suddenly, the rays start hammering away in the bottom of the 8th,and come back to within 1. it's 7-6.

in the bottom of the 9th, with 2 outs, and 2 strikes, dan johnson(who?) hits a home run off the foul pole in right to tie the game at 7. i'm cheering for the rays to beat the yankees. it was a verystrange feeling, almost like using the other hand, but different.

meanwhile, with 2 outs and 2 strikes up in baltimore, the Os tiethe red sox in the bottom of the 9th with a double to center. and one batter later, drive in thewinning run. boston now has to scoreboard watch and ROOT for the yankeesto save their season.

think about it. the red sox were one strike away, TWICE, intwo different games, of making the playoffs.

in the bottom of the 12th, longoria, from the rays, hits awalk-off home run against the yankees. it was only the 6th one in historyto clinch a playoff spot.

yankees haven't squandered a 7-0 lead, that late in the game,since 1953.

red sox were 76-0 when leading after 8 innings prior to lastnight. 76-0.

the rays' 9 game comeback in september was the largestcomeback EVER in the final month of the regular season. EVER.

what a night for baseball....bring on the tigers.

oh yeah, and something similar happened in the national league, but who really cares about them....

survivor: week 3

2011-09-26T09:05:00.003-04:00

another reason to hate everything north of Connecticut....

canadians are funny...

2011-09-22T17:24:00.001-04:00

MAN i miss this show...

2011-09-22T13:04:00.001-04:00

eleven twelve

2011-09-22T10:14:00.001-04:00

it is cutover time at work this week. which means everything i have been working on for the last 14+ months is coming to fruition and will be launched to the user community on october 3.

cutover means loading a ton of data thru a variety of programs and utilities and it's pretty dry. i'm sitting next to a woman, let's call her denise, and she was just counting some records she just loaded.

denise: "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12"

a song popped into my head that must have been stuck in the archives for 30 years. i don't remember if it was the electric company or sesame street, but i think it was the former. i found it on youtube.

how fucking high were the producers of THIS video.....wow.

ah, the 70s.....

survivor: week 2

2011-09-18T13:32:00.003-04:00

a long way for a bad pun...

2011-09-17T08:16:00.007-04:00

remember that big ash tree that hurricane irene blew down, just missing my house?

well two weekends ago, lazy scott finally got around to cutting up the tree...

leaving me with this big stump...

and another full day's worth of work to split and stack. they say a fallen tree heats you three times. once while cutting it, once while splitting it, and once while burning it....that's the good news.

the bad news is that now i have this big fucking ash hole in my backyard.......hey-oh!

7 years of quotes from work

2011-09-14T14:17:00.005-04:00

about 7 years ago, i started keeping quotes from things said at work (this is across several clients). some of them require context which i've given underneath the quote itself. i've weeded out most of the "inside joke" ones, which leaves you with this:

"…we have a functional spec for that…but it hasn't been written yet…"

"...they want to sell the material at 10% of cost but they want to show it as selling at a profit..."

"…after I finish the material load, I'm going to shoot myself…"

"…and that goes for the REST of you propeller heads…"

(larry referrning to developers not making functional decisions)

"…you can’t give detailed information without giving detailed information…"

"…if you can't figure out a way to do it, you can't figure out a way to do it…"

"…you've got to list out things you don't know…"

"…I can't help you out with what I don't know…"

"…sales people are clueless…"

"…they have no idea how much of that shit is crap…"

"…is the voodoo lounge wireless?…"

"…I'm so tired of confrontion…"

"…I can only handle idiocracy for so long…"

"…you can tell the freshness by smelling it…"

(vita, in reference to whiteboard markers)

"…I'm here for the 1:30pm meeting…"

(dan musa, walking into the conference room at 3:15pm)

"…they have to figure out how to get the material non-valuated with no value on it…"

"…that's why I don't put anything on the issues list…I know I'm going to solve it…"

"…I've got anal glaucoma…I don't see my ass being in here much more…"

"…anything up carina?…"

(kathy (instead of "anything up, carina?"))

"…I'm a horse right now, looking through binoculars, and I can't even see the cart…"

"…It's like I ate a turd biscuit…"

(larry referring to his breath)

"…all milestones have been affected by the hurricanes…"

(first line of steering committee notes on 9/22/04 in south FL)

(kit) "…where are we on integration testing…" (larry) "…you ever been on a treadmill?…"

"…I'm never going to make the quote list…"

"…I don't want to force people to signoff that this is our scope, but I don't want to leave here without having the entire scope defined…"

"…I shouldn't have had those beers this morning…"

"…how do you spell genius?…"

"...If I stay any longer I am going to have to bill myself…"

(larry, feeling worthless, after a big mexican lunch)

"...we will know pretty soon how much problems we will have, let´s wait and see, hopefully it wont be that bad..."

(scott) "…jacob's got that collin farell look going today…" (liz) "…yeah, except colin farell is hot…"

"…we need to put together a project plan for the things we're not going to do…"

"…he's smart and he's good, but I need to tape a calendar to his forehead with 12/23 circled…"

(larry, in reference to alfredo adding scope on 12/15)

"…I've accused sam of working for our competitor…"

"…I feel like I'm in a car and you have antlers…"

"…I gotta get outta here before they realize how fucked up their system is…"

"…600+150 is 800…"

"...I've noticed the quality of my work is inversely proportional to the length of time I'm on this project …"

"…a consultant in on a Friday?!...should I take a picture?!..."

"…we have two cost centers…Agree and Disagree…"

"…I really haven't been listening for the last hour and a half…"

"…do we have enough people at this meeting to solve's mike's problems?..."

"...if women aren't breathing, they're yelling…"

"…the tax department never gets what they want anyway…I don't want to break tradition now…"

"…I thought we already fired all the whiners?..."

"…the only good user is a dead user…"

"...there are certain things I know because I touch them frequently..."

"...I wish you were asking these questions a month from now..."

"...it's pretty much a show and pony tail..."

"...any other questions I can't answer?..."

"…don't ask hard questions…"

"…I don't like this project management bullshit…"

"...these pricing loads are cutting into my drinking time..."

"...okay, general status update, we have no update..."

"...I didn't say it was your fault…I said I was going to blame you..."

"...I'm un-trainable..."

[dave morrison] "what's the downside of summarizing it?"

[alan fernyhough] "you lose the detail."

"...It's not my cup of cake..."

"...I don't want to learn..."

[larry g] "I assume I'm not the one doing the training material."

[andy] "not a good assumption."

"...remember, half the people you know are below average..."

"...it's an input field in the input field, so it should allow input..."

"...why do you want to post something you can't post to?..."

"...the super users aren't going to be super unless we give them something super..."

"...no, noe wouldn't know..."

"...I'm not saying they're stupid, but, yes, they are..."

"...well, you're wrong, as usual..."

[andy] "usually I work a little from the home office and then get in the shower."

[tim] "there's a visual I didn't need."

"...the problem with that is that we don't know what we don't know..."

"...you thought you made a mistake, but you were wrong..."

"...I don't like the words Query and Cullen used in the same sentence..."

(mike cullen)

during stabilzation review meeting

[jim] "a question for the business folks out there…is there anything you would like to see changed about this call?"

[mary, on mute] "ending it."

[mike] "where can I find the tracking number?"

[scott] "goto header > text > tracking number"

[mike] "where do I see tracking number?"

[scott] "where it says tracking number."

"...we have now completed our 90 minute hour..."

"...I don't know what we're talking about, but we're all agreeing with each other..."

"...accounting lost their erectile dysfunction when they heard that..."

"…you need to give me a new due date, because I can't deliver something due last Friday…"

"…testing and failing is still testing…"

"…all I know is that she's going to see a lot of rubber tonight…"

(brian, referring to his daughter's upcoming play in goal in a soccer game)

survivor: week 1 final results

2011-09-13T11:55:00.003-04:00

and then there were 43....

survivor: week 1

2011-09-12T08:42:00.002-04:00

wow, that could have been a lot worse. SD....the jets....AZ....all losing late in their games, causing many sphincters, yours included, to tighten enough to crack a walnut.

however, week 1 was not without its victims. week 1 is always like getting an HIV test....you just want it to be over and hope everything works out okay. well, for 10 people, their season ended very very early. and go figure, 2 of the 10 still have a yellow square in the paid column....

best* of luck to those with NE tonight...

* worst.

irene

2011-09-01T11:12:00.000-04:00

hurricanes.

the only hurricanes i'm familiar with up here in jersey are the ones in miami, and this guy. so coming off the "earthquake" we had a few days prior, i wasn't too terribly concerned.

however, as kelly and i watched the news of the hurricane's projected path, and once i heard they were evacuating parts of NYC, then i started to become a little more concerned.

saturday
so kelly and i decide to stock up on the essentials. water, bread, milk, eggs, etc. i'm not sure why everyone is making french toast during a storm, but that's always the case. in the meantime, every "tip" that kelly hears on the today show becomes another line item on my to do list.

1. fill the bathtub with water
2. buy D batteries
3. buy bottled water
4. secure all outdoor furniture
5. check to make sure your generator is working
6. have an emergency shelter plan

etc.

so i make my first of many trips to home depot. i don't have a generator, because i've never needed one. i don't even bother asking the guy in the orange apron if they have them, but i do notice that they don't have any D batteries. i grab 2 cases of bottled water, some bungie cords, a couple pen flashlights, and some ice and i'm out of there.

lowes doesn't have batteries either.

or sears
or wal-mart
or babies R us
or washington one-stop
or the fucking deli

ok, so no D batteries, we'll be fine.

however, the GOOD news is that i have a case of 6 inch luminary candles that we use during Christmas, so i buy 8 small ceramic potted plant holders and some sand. brilliant!

so as we're watching the news on saturday nite, we see the carolinas getting hit and the storm should be hitting us hard on sunday morning.

we finish our bottle of wine, and head to bed around 11pm. little did we know that we only had about 120 minutes left of power.

sunday
1am: the ceiling fan stops and i wake up. we have lost power.

fuck.

i go back to sleep.

so we wake up saturday morning and it's raining. i don't even bother calling the power company, as i'm sure they're getting inundated with calls. kelly takes a little nap in the morning (timing it well with claire's) and i take jack up the street to our neighbor who has a generator. generator = power = coffee = happy. at lunch, we decide to eat out and we grab some mickey Ds. we spend the early afternoon hanging out in the house, doing puzzles, and watching the rain. when claire goes down for her nap around 2pm, i decide to take one too. not all that bad to be honest with you.

kelly comes running in around 3:30pm and tells me that a tree has fallen in the yard. it missed the house by two feet:

free firewood. i get the chainsaw out and go to work trimming the branches and running the ATV to and from the woods to cleanup the yard.

around 6pm, my neighbor mark calls and ask if we need anything. he, like most of the other people in the neighborhood, has the comforting humming of their generator running outside their garage door, and are enjoying TV, light, charging their cell phone, microwave, etc.

as much as i like the idea of "roughing it", the thought of actually having some power in the house seemed like a good idea. the only challenge was, did i have enough extension cord to reach his generator. the key for us for that evening was TV. so i hooked up the first cord and ran it from the TV to the front door. i would say it's about 250 feet from my front door to his generator, and i had about 245 feet of extension cord.

fuck.

mark made some adjustments to the stuff in his house and we were able to move the generator the 5 extra feet. bonus.

now the only question that remained was what i could really power through 300 feet of 4 connected extension cords. first test: cell phone......success

second test: toaster.....partial success. after about 30 seconds, i got some very faint orange glows, about 1/2 what i would normally see.

third test: TV.....success.

(i found out later that a toaster uses about 1440 watts and a TV only uses about 300)

i thank mark, show him the big tree in the yard, and start to get the kids fed.

we tuck the kids in to bed with no bath (much to jack's liking) and head downstairs for dinner. we decide that i'll run out for pizza. i order from miller's, the best thin crust pizza this side of the delaware river. 1/2 black olive (yuck) and 1/2 pepperoni and hot pepper (yum). + two order of jalepeno poppers (double yum).

on the drive home through the rain, i see some branches down on the road up ahead in my lane and as i'm about to swerve around them, a car is coming in the opposite direction, forcing me to drive over the branches. fucker...what are the odds.

i get home and kelly informs me from the today show that the food in the freezer will last about 2 days, as long as you keep the freezer closed. ironically she informs me of this as i'm opening the freezer to grab some ice for my vodka.

"better make it 1 day 20 hours," i tell her.

we have a giant cooler that i got at wal-mart last year that is about 5 feet long. earlier that day, i had removed all our perishable food from the refrigerator and put it on ice in the cooler, which was really now serving as our fridge. the fridge/freezer in the garage had nothing but beer and water in the fridge and i was holding off on addressing the freezer issue out there, as it hadn't been two days yet.

we lit about 20 candles in the kitchen and family room, opened a bottle of merlot, grabbed a couple slices of pizza and poppers, and plopped down to watch some TV. not a bad sunday nite.

monday
jack didn't sleep well due to:
1. the lack of having his noise machine running all night
2. the noise from the storm

he got into bed with us sometime in the middle of the night, which means i spent the night getting random limbs landing on my head. we all got up around 7am.

we decide to head to the diner for breakfast. we pack up and go. i start dreaming of coffee before we even get out of the driveway. about 5 minutes into the 15 minute ride, a warning pops up on the dash. the pressure in the back right tire is low...and it's dropping fast.

fuck.

fuck fuck fuck.

the pressure in the other 3 tires is around 37, and in the back right tire it's at 25.

a minute later: 24.

then 23

22

i find a gas station and fill it to 40.

before i pull out of the gas station, it's already at 35. a mile later it's at 31.

about 1/2 mile from the diner there is an STS service garage. it's 8am.

i pull in and tell them i have a tire down and if they could plug it. they tell me no problem and to leave the car with them for about 30 min. we decide to walk to the diner. a 10-12 minute walk.

i order coffee, a diet coke, and the Jersey Border (two potato pancakes, topped with canadian bacon, topped with poached eggs, topped with hollandaise sauce....and served with a slice of cantaloupe. if you look closely, you can actually see the fear on the face of the cantaloupe looking at the pile next to him.)

i scarf that shit down, along with 1/2 of jack's chocolate chip pancakes and a couple slices of bacon, and more coffee.

awesome.

we head out and start our walk back to STS. about a minute into the walk, it hits me.

that feeling again. very reminiscent of this story.

my pace begins to quicken. i'm holding jack's hand and kelly is carrying claire behind me. two minutes later i'm officially speed walking.

this is a situation.

my ass informs me that i've got about 5 minutes....tops.

i actually FEEL the coffee and hollandaise sauce make contact with the pepperoni and hot pepper pizza and jalapeno poppers in my stomach. they get along about as well as my dad and the obama administration.

i'm officially speed walking now, which means jack is in a full out trot. kelly yells something from behind me about walking too fast, but i barely hear her. i'm now officially in planning mode. at first i thought i'd be able to pick up the car and make it home, but no way. whatever happens HAS to happen at STS...maybe in a bush before we get there. i'm actually scoping out the walk ahead of me and trying to look for places i might be able to duck into, but it's a busy road. i just pinch and increase my pace.

we go through an underpass and i can now see the STS ahead. i'm walking as fast as i can without breaking into a jog. i make it to the parking lot. i've got MAYBE a minute left in me. my sphincter muscles are straining and quivering and informing me not to bounce as much, so i am now speed walking, but maintaining a straight line horizontally, which must look weird to a passerby.

as i pass/glide by the open garages, i see our SUV up on the lift. that can't be good, i think, but it's such a fucking secondary thought at this point.

i throw open the front glass door so hard, that the bells on the other side come flying up and smack the glass door itself, drawing a couple looks.

i speed walk to the front desk, dragging jack behind me.

"hi there," overalls bob says.

"hihowdideverythinggo?isthetireokaybythewaydoyouhaveabathroomicoulduserealquick?" i say in under 1.5 seconds.

"well, you've got a pretty decent size hole in the tire," bob says, ignoring my sense of urgency to get to the bathroom. "we can't plug it, and we don't have the right tire here, so we filled it with air and blah blah blah blah."

he continued: "blah blah tire blah blah tree branch blah blah blah"

"okaythankswheresyourbathroom?" i say.

before his arm has even finished extending, i spot it in the corner. i accelerate to 12 mph so fast that jack's head snaps back. we make it to the bathroom and i lock the door. the bathroom has a toilet on the left and a sink on the right, and it's quite spacious. my ass picks up on the fact that we are close and doubles the workload on my sphincter. i've got 10 seconds....tops.

my hands are shaking so badly that i can't get my button undone on my jeans. i finally get it undone. i start to grab toilet paper to line the seat, and i actually hear my ass telling me to go fuck myself. no time.

at that moment, jack says, "daddy, i have to go potty."

jack is pulling his pants down.

"peepeeorpoopoo," i ask him quickly.

"pee pee," he says.

"okgivedaddy2minutes," i say quickly as i yank my pants down and sit on the bare seat.

while launching RPGs out of my ass, jack is standing right in front of me with his pants at his ankles staring at me while unbeknownst to him, suppressing the image that he will not talk about again until lying on a couch somewhere in 2026.

"daddy, i have to go potty," jack repeats, while holding he penis through his underwear. this is the universal sign that a kid has to go, and it's also his way of letting me know that he's got his OWN clock going.

there was no urinal in the bathroom, and i've still got armageddon happening in the bowl, so i attempt a bold move. i scoot back on the bowl, leaving a triangle for jack to pee in. jack has been blessed with long legs, so he can reach the bowl. however, it puts daddy in a dangerous position, because if jack decides to get creative with his piss stream, i am defenseless.

jack walks up to the bowl, points his business, and flawlessly completes his pee between my legs into the bowl. we high-five for no particular reason, i finish up, and we go over to wash our hands.

we walk back out into STS and bob throws me a look.

"he really had to go," i say, throwing jack under the bus. we get in the truck and drive it to acura on 3 1/2 tires.

when we get home, i start making calls. i grab my iPad, which i was smart enough to fully charge before the power went out, and google lowes. i pump my zip code into the store locator and hit search. i start calling lowes in order of ascending distance from my house. every call is the same, and in fact, three of the first eight lowes answered the phone, "thank you for calling lowes, we don't have generators."

they may have well answered the phone, "thank you for calling lowes, go fuck yourself."

on the ninth one i got a hit.

"thank you for calling lowes, how may i direct your call?"

"hi, do you have generators?" i ask half-heartedly.

"yes, we have one. a 5500 watt."

i almost fall off my chair.

"YOU DO?!"

"yes, and we are expecting 10 more in at 1:30pm from one of our sister stores," he tells me.

"GREAT! can i give you my credit card to hold it?" i ask.

"nope. first come first serve."

then a thought hits me. the SUV is at acura and it's not done yet. i ask the guy what the dimensions of the box are, and it definitely won't fit in the trunk of my TL, but i might be able to get it in the side door if i rip the child seats out.

"kelly, i'm heading to quakertown, PA," i tell her. about a 1 hour 15 minute drive.

"i want to go," kelly says. "you're not leaving me here with the two kids."

"kel, they only have 11 left and i'm sure they are going to go fast."

"we're all going as a family," she tells me in a tone that i know does not leave room for debate.

we wait another hour and the SUV is done. we drive there, i swap out the car seats, load the kids, drive home with kelly following me in the other car, dump the TL, pick up kelly, and we head for quakertown. i had work work to do so i had kelly drive while i worked on my laptop.

halfway there, i decide to call them to see how many are left. they are down to six.

i'm wishing i was driving, but i'm not. every truck she is behind i'm wishing she would pass. every yellow light she stops for, i wish she would blow through. in the 45 mph zone we are in, she is doing 50, where i would be doing 65. but i don't say anything, because we only 10 miles away.

we get to lowes. i jump out of the car, grab jack and carry him with a pace that was equivalent to, if not faster than, the trip to STS from the diner.

i fucking SHIT you not, there is a pick-up truck pulled up in front of the doors and they are loading a 5500 watt briggs and stratton generator into his truck. i hear him say to the lowes guy, "i don't even need this, but it's good to have."

i run with jack to the front desk.

"where are your generators?" i ask, panicking.

"over there, if we have any left," she says, her voice fading as i was off with the point of her finger.

i find a guy in a red lowes vest.

"do you have any generators left?" i ask, for the second time in 30 seconds.

"nope, we're all out," he tells me without emotion.

"you've got to be KIDDING me!" i yell, at the top of my lungs, in the middle of lowes in quakertown, PA.

i put jack down and walk off in no particular direction. i need to cool off. kelly takes claire and jack and walks in the other direction.

i loop around and meet them in the front of the store. we get loaded up and kelly starts searching on the iPad for stores surrounding the quakertown, PA area. we start calling. on the 5th try, we find a lowes that has them....but only 10 left, and they're going fast. here we go again.

hatfield, PA....wherever the fuck THAT is. we pump it into the GPS and it's another 30 minute south.

we're off and we're breaking several traffic laws along the way.

we get there and i drive right up to the front door and get out. i run in and ask the same question as in quakertown.

the woman points me to a skid that has 5 generators on it. 5 beautiful 5500 watt generators for $799 each. i go and stand by one and put my hand on it, like i'm guarding the post in a capture the flag game.

a couple red vests come over and help me load it. i felt as though i needed security to escort this thing to my car. while i was getting rung up, two more of the 5 were taken. they were probably out of generators in the next 10 min.

kelly drives home while i get more work done. when we get home, jack and i set it up. we start it up and it joins the humming of the other generators in the neighborhood. what a beautiful thing.

the next hour or so was spent running electrical cords throughout the house. i unplugged all the cables that were running to mark's house and set the computer and modem back up, the TV, a lamp in the kitchen, ran some upstairs to run sound machines for the kids, a light in our bedroom, and the fridge freezer in the garage.

everywhere you went in our house was orange cords, power strips, splitters, etc. it was ugly, but it was getting us by. we still had no water, but we were a little more civilized than sunday. our neighbors rob and eileen asked if we wanted to come up and use their shower.

it had been over 48 hours since we had bathed, and the four of us were pretty nasty.

it was the greatest shower i've ever had. at least top 10 lifetime. it was accompanied by a vodka on the rocks, which was a bonus.

how did rob and eileen have power for their water?

cause rob's a genius and has hooked up his generator to his electrical panel. he can just turn on and off what he wants from the panel.

it made my electrical cords look archaic. i HAD to have that setup. i asked him what i needed:

1. 30 amp breaker
2. 50 feet of 10/3 cable
3. two male 30 amp generator plugs
4. one female 30 amp generator plug
5. weatherproof receptacle box

he said he would provide the connectors and set it up if i could pick that stuff up tomorrow.

i consider french-kissing him but think better of it.

tuesday
at lunch, i run to lowes to pick up my stuff. however, they are not only out of 10/3 cable, but also the generator plugs. i pick up the other stuff i need and go to home depot next store.

they have the cable, but not the plugs.

i stop by an electrical supply store on the way home, and THEY are out. the guy tells me that even the ones he has on back-order are already spoken for.

here we go again.

i get home and start hitting the phones. pegasus, washington one stop, slack's....no, no, no.

i google 'electrical supply store hunterdon county, NJ' and i get 10 hits. on the 7th one, after 6 nos, the guy tells me that he'll have some in the morning, around 8:30am. bingo.

kelly was out and about with jack and she asks if i tried the home depot in flemington. i call them and they don't have them. as i'm about to hang up, the guy says, "i hear that finkle's has them."

"finkel's?" i ask. where are they.

they are down in lambertville, NJ.

i google finkel's, get their phone number, call them, and ask them if they have them.

"we do," the guy says, but they're going fast.

i call kelly, give her the address, and tell her to step on it.

she makes it there and gets the last of them. they charge her $100 for $18 worth of plugs. ahhh, supply and demand.

i call rob and tell him that we've got the stuff. it had a very drug deal sound to it.

he comes over around 6pm and we head to the basement. he drills a hole in the outside wall and comes back into the basement. i've got an extension cord running from the kitchen into the basement for light. just then, all the lights come on.

"that was easy," he says with a grin.

we have power. after 66 hours and 50 minutes, we have power.

we decide to hook up everything anyway just in case. 30 minutes later he is done. we shut down the power to the house, bring the generator around and start it, hook it up to the outside plug, go inside, turn off the A/C, oven, and hot tub breakers, throw the 30 amp breaker, and i now have power in my house via the generator. what a fucking beautiful thing.

a big thanks to mark, rob and eileen, and john and patty for their help during the storm. i'm kind of silently hoping the power goes out again so i can use my new hookup.

kind of....

s14 winner!

2011-08-24T09:36:00.004-04:00

i don't like to use the word "deserved" very often, but gavin coffaro deserved this win. six times he scored a 10, and three times he scored a 12. the 11 eluded him for 62 games until last night, when the red sox tacked on four runs in the 8th to leave them with 11.

the best part for gavin is that due to the number of games played, he doesn't need to sit around for a few nights chewing his nails hoping that nobody can tie or beat him. he only needs to wait out a couple days to see if anyone steals another 50 bucks from him by getting 20 or more runs.

in other s14 action, david hartpence gets his 16th 1 from the twins to force a 3-way tie for highest occurrence. the best part about that for me is i'll have a month and a half to pay him, as that is how long it took him to submit his entry fee...;)

in fact, i think that will be the new sweet 14 rule. the date winners are paid will be directly proportionate with how on time their entry fee was paid....brilliant!!!

the payouts (assuming no 20 or more runs) have been posted in the bottom right, and a separate email will go out to the winners upon completion.

congratulations to gavin and the other winners, best of luck to those with a long shot left, and if you're interested in playing the NFL survivor pool, let me know (email will be sent on that one as well).

s14 results

2011-08-22T10:49:00.000-04:00

i'm 1!

2011-08-18T07:57:00.008-04:00

happy birthday, claire!!!

s14 results

2011-08-17T10:29:00.000-04:00

one of the many reasons why I love my wife: part 2

2011-08-16T15:04:00.003-04:00

WARNING: content may not be suitable for all audiences. reader discretion advised.

i'm a coffee drinker.
kelly is a tea drinker.
we are both happy with our hot beverage choices and we co-exist with no problem.

however, i'm not a BIG coffee drinker, and on most mornings, i'm a one cup a day kind of guy. so rather than make a pot of coffee in the morning, or drive 5 miles to the closest dunkin' donuts, kelly bought me a melitta coffee machine. you fill it with water (it holds about 2 cups worth), put the little single-use pod in, hit the button, and you get a fresh cup of coffee.

i love it. i've had it for about 5 years now.

and i buy melitta coffee pods from their site too. they have a couple dozen different flavors, some with fancy names, like vienna roast, blanc et noir, buzzworthy, etc. i'm guessing that in a blind taste test, i wouldn't be able to differentiate which was which, but regardless, i always buy 10 different boxes when i stock up.

in the cabinet where i keep them, i always have five boxes open. now you'll have to put aside the craziness on this one...but to determine which coffee i drink, i look at the last minute of the time on the oven clock when i open the coffee cabinet. if it's 0 or 5, i grab a pod from the first box. 1 or 6, i grab from the second box. 2 or 7, from the 3rd, etc. it takes away all the decision involved plus i find it a fun* game to see which box gets finished first over the course of a couple months. the fact that this is not in some sort of spreadsheet shocks me.

*scott fun, not normal fun

anyhoo, yesterday around 9:30am, i had already had my one cup of coffee. i was feeling a little on the sleepy side, so i yelled into the kitchen and asked kelly if she would fix me a cup of coffee. and she did. what a great wife.

when she brought it in, she said, "i chose the pod type based on it's name because i plan on giving you some of what the name is tonight," she said with a wink and a smile.

i gave it a quick thought and couldn't remember the names of the 5 boxes i had open, but was kind of swamped with work, so i forgot about it.

later in the day, i was in the kitchen and i saw the coffee maker on the counter, and i remembered what kelly had said to me that morning.

i yell over to her, "oh yeah, i forgot to find out which coffee flavor you got me!"

i go to the cabinet and open it up. there, on the left, was the only one that made sense.

"french kisses?!" i say to her, rather disappointed in the G rating activity it promised me.

kelly says, "well it's not like you have any flavors called 'fuck me in the ass'!"

i laughed for about an hour.

s14 results

2011-08-15T08:39:00.002-04:00

3 of the 4 teams who are one away from winning are previous winners. can they repeat? or will gavin coffaro get another 10 this week....?

a lesson in space efficiency

2011-08-11T18:36:00.001-04:00

s14 results

2011-08-11T11:57:00.001-04:00

don't eat this either

2011-08-10T17:04:00.001-04:00

don't eat this

2011-08-10T16:30:00.001-04:00

damn canadian snacks....yuck!

s14 results

2011-08-09T08:29:00.000-04:00

smart-ass signs

2011-08-08T13:36:00.028-04:00

thanks, metzgar...

s14 results

2011-08-07T15:50:00.001-04:00

Poop update

2011-08-03T18:12:00.002-04:00

Jack did poopy on the potty for the first time today, hopefully eliminating the awkward conversation he would have had to have with his freshman year roomate about his giant pull-ups...

Celebration!!!!!

s14 results

2011-08-03T07:44:00.001-04:00

s14 results

2011-08-01T09:59:00.000-04:00

two previous winners are one away from repeating....

s14 results: close call

2011-07-28T09:36:00.003-04:00

wow. that was close.

gavin coffaro needed an 11 from the bosox (a DAY after getting his 13). in the bottom of the 4th, boston scores 5 runs...and they are up 10-3.

another run in the 6th and they're up 11-4.

no runs in the 7th, and since the game was at boston, that left only the bottom of the 8th inning. if boston doesn't score, gavin is a couple grand richer. the batter is jacoby ellsbury. on a 2-2 count, he hits a dribbler to the left side and gets himself an infield single. on the play however, the shortstop throws wide of the 1st baseman and ellsbury advances to 2nd on the error.

the next batter is dustin pedroia. on an 0-1 count, he grounds out to second, advancing ellsbury to third.

one out.

the next batter: adrian gonzalez. on a 1-1 count, he singles to left, scoring ellsbury, and spoiling gavin's bid at winning the big jackpot.

in an even more interesting scenario, earlier in the day, liz meehan's angels threw a no-hitter, earning her $200. however, if gavin would have pulled off the 11 last night, she would NOT have won the $200 by virtue of games played (boston has played less games than the angels).

liz has her blowsox hat on this morning i'm sure...

s14 results - uh oh

2011-07-27T09:00:00.002-04:00

with a 13 by the blowsox last night, gavin coffaro is now 1 away from the big win. keep your eyes on the boston games...and don't count out the texas rangers or the rockies....

a canadian's journey

2011-07-25T12:14:00.004-04:00

my buddy brian, one of a few canadians who was making the trip to NJ for our 9th installment of our annual texas hold 'em tournament this past saturday, texted me on saturday and informed me that he could not make it due to traffic. disappointing to say the least as we had talked about it for the months leading up to the event. this morning he sent me a synopsis of his journey and i decided to share it with you.
********************************************************************************
How I Spent my Saturday, by Brian Chamberlain

I’ll write this – hopefully not being too presumptive that some person or small group cares how I spent my Saturday. Several people have asked and my answer has always been “I’ll write a blog entry about it”. I’m sure that if Saturday had gone to plan it would still require a blog entry to explain it, so it’s all pretty much good and the same.

A bit of history – I met Scott in September of last year. If you’ve read his blog, rest assured that the live person is quite a bit like the blogger. It’s kind of like stream of consciousness meets Robin Williams with a flash of serious worker showing up from time to time. He gets his job done (quite well it would seem) but makes sure everyone is entertained in the process. This is important because the line of work we are in tends to be a little dry (I am now reminded of the Monty Python sketch about conversations down the mine shaft).

So, in January, Scott, me and 3 other guys get into this weight loss contest. Losing the weight we all put on during December to prepare for the contest was quite easy. Winning the 12-week contest proved much more difficult and ultimately Scott and I ended up calling it a tie after he managed to lose 11 pounds or so in the last 24 hours by running a marathon or two. Did I mention that Scott and I are both somewhat competitive?

Okay, so I’ve lost 15 pounds since January and kept it off, feel absolutely great, am running for Provincial Parliament (translation for American friends – think State congress but in a country with only 10 states with this being the largest one). I owe a lot to Scott and his little contest. So when he mentioned that he has a poker tournament (pronounced “torn”ament as in Jersey – not “turn”ament as in Ontario), I am so all in (despite the 7 hour drive). My first instinct is to bring my son (14) who loves poker and I know I’d love the time in the car with him. Scott, however, sees that as problematic for the other players, so I agree to either come alone or bring a friend.

I know, we’re not yet at Saturday – maybe “a little history” was an understatement.

So my friend Rob agrees to go with me, and we’re all set until we get the “heat wave from hell” in Ontario and Rob’s wife (who is from the Tropics by the way), in her third trimester of pregnancy, is getting complications (minor but disturbing) and Rob decides he can’t make it. Short notice. Okay, I’ll go down with buddy John who’s also going anyway. John backs out. Okay, I’ll come alone, but will bring Jacob if Scott can reconsider. Scott reconsiders and Jacob and I are all in.

At last, Saturday morning. I am no longer picking up Rob, so I can go the “short” way through the Niagara crossings which (according to maps that can’t see traffic) is an hour shorter. Back of my head says “factor in traffic – go the longer way”, but other part of me says “there are 3 bridges and we’re leaving a 2 hour buffer”. I’m up at 8, Jacob is ready at 8 and we’re keen to get rolling.

Did I mention I was running for Parliament? Photos – headshots and action shots – I need them so that Rob can complete my fliers, so that I’ll have something to hand to people when I canvass next week. Carolyn takes head shots and action shots before hurrying off to take the girls to soccer practice. I get online to tell Rob he’ll have the photos from Carolyn shortly. Oops – I forgot I also need to introduce myself in 140 words or less in such a way that would be appealing to prospective voters. That’s not easy, but I take a crack at it, check the time and realize I’d much rather be driving than eating into my buffer. It’ll have to wait. I send Rob what I have and we’re ready to go.

Crap, sink full of dirty dishes from volunteer appreciation get-together the night before. Carolyn signed up for many things, but picking up after my parties is not one of them (at least not EVERY time). So, 10 minutes to get the dishwasher loaded and started.

We want to be able to use the computer on the way down and the power adapter is in the van! So we stop at the bank, get money for me and Jake, and head to soccer practice to pick up the adapter. All is good. We are leaving soccer practice at 10, we have everything we need, we plug in the power adapter – and the radio stops working.

Back up, my Blackberry is also not working. I type “d”, if enters “fq”. I type space, it calls my uncle Bill. It got wet in a downpour at the volunteer appreciation event. I’ve had it for 2 years (seems like about 4 times the life expectancy of anything technical these days) so I ponder for the first time getting it replaced that day.

So, we’re heading onto the road with no working radio, no power supply, and no Blackberry for communications. Jacob has a watch and his cell phone. I consider turning back for the first time, but decide we’ll have our adventure and we’ll have a good time to laugh about later.

Heading across Mississauga I check my printed directions for the first time. Crap, I brought the first page of the trip the other way. That’s okay, I always copy the directions to my laptop and blackberry. My Blackberry is not working. The laptop does not have unlimited battery and we’re using it as our only source of music at the moment. This could be a problem.

We also need gas.

Quick stop at a Rogers Wireless to buy a new blackberry and load all my data onto it. “How long will that take” I ask the commissioned saleslady who saw me coming a mile away. I am so happy with the “10 minutes” answer. At minute 15, I take Jacob over to buy himself a sub so we can do lunch in the car. My 3-hour buffer is not down to 1.5 hours and I want to be careful. At minute 45 we walk out with the new Blackberry – not fully prepared, but at least we can get at the directions (which are pretty simple anyway, right). She mentions on the way out that it has about half battery left and she had previously mentioned the battery was good for about 2 days (so I figure it’ll get me through at least to arrival at Scott’s). She also mentions that the first time it runs out of battery it should be fully recharged over a period of 8 hours.

Back of my head says – if we end up out of battery, we’ll want to recharge it during the poker and that’s not 8 hours. Oh well, I can be without communications during the poker and plug it in at the hotel.

We’re back on the road and still need gas. No radio and we know the laptop can’t last forever. I have figured out that the radio is almost certainly a blown fuse and therefore, we can probably replace it ourselves. Jacob also discovers the battery left on the new blackberry doesn’t see like half – more like an 8th. Argh! Jacob is keen to fix the fuse when we stop for gas.

We find the schematic and eventually Jacob figures out which fuse to replace and he does it. Radio works! I can get directions from the laptop. We still have a one-hour buffer. No problem. We feel good that we fixed the car and got a new Blackberry and are still keen to play.

We’re back on the road and heading Niagara way. On the 403 so that I can shift onto the 407 to blow by the dreaded Ford Drive (if Ford had any idea how much everyone hates them just because traffic always stops at Ford Drive, they’d have it renamed). Entrance to 407 from 403 is closed. Crap. Oh well at least traffic is moving.

Approaching Dundas on 403 – traffic stops! This does not look good. I bail onto Dundas, head West to Trafalgar and back up to 407. Got a traffic report telling me 407 was closed between 403 and Trafalgar. All’s good once I hit Trafalgar – still have a fairly good buffer (not like we could expect no traffic at all, so maybe we’ve got an extra 45 minutes still).

Now on QEW past Hamilton. Traffic slows for no apparent reason. Ah – 3 lanes shift right for construction on the shoulder (not working). It’s still 3 lanes, but everyone slows for the sake of slowing. Hopefully we won’t get a lot of this. We get it 2 more times. On the third one I explain to Jacob that we might be touch and go for arriving on time, but we are still likely okay. Does he want to press on. “For gambling, hell yes” he throws in. Liking my choice for car companion.

We keep going and now they’ve got signs for the bridges. 30-60 minute wait Fort Erie and Queenston – no posting for Niagara Falls. That could mean Niagara Falls is fine (yeah right, on a gorgeous summer Saturday?) or a total write-off and why on earth would you even consider crossing there? I wake up Jacob to get his opinion (it’s his trip too, right). He says, let’s take Queenston – it’s on our directions and we’ve got the 30 minutes. Funny how both of us, being optimists, ignore the 60.

No traffic at all on the way to Queenston, road wasteland – maybe the sign was wrong. Nothing getting onto the bridge – really maybe the sign was wrong. Half way across the bridge traffic stops. The sign was not wrong. But hey, it’ll be 15-30 minutes.

Blackberry battery almost dead. I start writing down the directions. Hmm, these are not the simple directions I saw based on going the other way. Argh, it’s trying to save me 15 kilometers by taking non-Interstates! I have to figure out the Interstate routes without a map, while moving up in line when needed and praying that the Blackberry doesn’t die on me. I also realize that once I hit the US, with a dead communicator, I’ll be a virtual blackout on getting a hold of Scott if I need to talk to him.

I text Scott. “How late can I be and still play”. 8:30 would be the absolute cutoff. It’s now 2:45. I have the blackberry remap the route from my current location. It tells me it’s 6 hours and 57 minutes. So I have to beat it by more than an hour and a quarter.

I do speed sometimes, but less in foreign countries and I’m thinking a ticket is not something I need. I am also (believe it or not) envisioning that showing up at 8:30, playing for 15 minutes and going out (quite likely) might not seem all that rewarding. I am very keen to meet Scott’s wife (who, I’m sure, must be exceptional), kids and parents, but I just do not see how this is going to work. I let Scott know that I tried, but we are not going to make it. Immediately after I send that text, the Blackberry dies. I see Scott’s text back upon arriving home at 10:30.

So, we’re on the bridge to the US, can’t turn around (on pain of being shot) and we wait some more. “Where are you going?” the customs officer asks. I can think of several humorous lines I’d love to give to amuse myself, but thinking it’s the wrong audience I tell him “We’re going to check out Grand Island and the US side of the Falls”. Really, we were kind of going to do that.

We take the exit for Fantasy Island amusement park. Jacob gets a good look at the park, it’s flume ride and roller coaster and says “Keep going”. We get back on the freeway. No map, no electronics, driving into Buffalo looking for signs for the Falls.

There are no signs for the Falls. America has given up on Niagara Falls. They know that anyone who’s anyone goes to Canada to see the Falls. We have the best view and it’s like our little mini-Vegas. Niagara Falls USA is like their mini-Atlantic City (not pretty).

We keep driving in Buffalo until we see a sign for the Ft. Erie Peace bridge. We take it. We line up to get back into Canada. It’s now 3:45.

Jacob has been great, but is getting a little frustrated (as am I). We decide we are going to get something to eat (nothing since the half sub each at 10:45). We head for Niagara Falls Canada. We go to Denny’s (eventually). As a complete aside, when we pull into the parking lot, I recognize the first person I see as a parent from my daughter’s former soccer team. Then another one. They’re here for a soccer tournament. Small world.

Great meal for both of us at Denny’s and Jacob is really enjoying his time with Dad (as is Dad). We find out where and when Harry Potter is playing. We have an hour, so we walk Clifton Hill (with thousands of other people), go down to see the Falls (I think we’ve done that every year at least once for the last 5 years), through the gardens, up the hill to the park and back to the car.

Off to Harry Potter. Great movie. Then home.

So, we drove around in a circle from 10 am till 10:30 pm. We saw a movie, had dinner, got a new Blackberry, blew and fixed a fuse on the car. Somewhere along that line, I reconfirmed my belief that I’ll get elected in the fall. And I had the best time with my son I’ve had in a long time. We all need a reason to change our world – he’s mine.

So, that’s how I spent Saturday. If invited, I’m all in for Scott’s “torn”ament next year. Hope he enjoyed.
*******************************************************************************

brian is running for ontario's parliament in october and you can read more about him at www.brianchamberlain.ca.

s14 results

2011-07-21T09:08:00.000-04:00

life lesson for a 3 year old

2011-07-20T09:00:00.005-04:00

sometimes this:

leads to this:

s14 results

2011-07-19T08:51:00.002-04:00

goodman experiment: how many cherries can i fit in my mouth?

2011-07-15T18:40:00.005-04:00

kelly bought some cherries.

every time i went into the kitchen from the office, i would grab a handful. while working, i would chew on two at a time, not really paying attention to the occasional drip of cherry juice down my chin and onto my shirt.

while chewing on two, i threw two more in my mouth, which quickly led to an adhoc goodman experiment (the 4th in the series).

the fact that i couldn't respond with "that's what she said" when kelly said "jack, don't swallow it", shows you how focused i was....

i'm 3!

2011-07-12T15:31:00.001-04:00

happy birthday, jack!

s14 results

2011-07-11T09:49:00.000-04:00

class act

2011-06-30T21:59:00.006-04:00

so i got in late from toronto this evening and found this in the mail.

it was sent by andi marracco, who won the first round of the sweet 14 a couple weeks ago. what a kind gesture...it will go to good use!

thanks, andi!

(and yes, i always fly bare-footed)

oh, i just came downstairs this morning and let jack open a letter he had from andi. wouldn't you know it, it turns out that she's a SUPER class act!

thanks aunt andi! you're the best!

jack! get off the computer!

EWR

2011-06-30T15:07:00.002-04:00

This is my 3rd week in a row in Toronto.

I need to vent a little about trying to fly to Newark fuckimg airport on a Thursday afternoon.

2 weeks ago it was rain that delayed me for 4 hours.

Yeah, that's right.....4.

Last week, it was showers, even though when I landed in Newark, everything was dry. Total delay, 1 hour.

This week, its another delay....this time due to wind.

Wind? Are you fucking kidding me? Wind.....

I would rather have them just make something up, like the delay is due to monsters, or turtles on the runway, or unicorns, anything.....fucking wind.

Another Canadian club please.....

s14 results

2011-06-29T08:35:00.000-04:00

Canada Day

2011-06-27T20:55:00.005-04:00

Did you know that Canada has their own 4th of July holiday?

Yes, it's true. It's called Canada day, and they celebrate it on July 1st. Unless, of course, under the federal holidays act, that July 1st falls on a sunday, whereby they celebrate July 1st on July 2nd.

What a cute holiday! I love holidays that you can determine with code.

IF Canada_Day_day_of_week = Sunday;
THEN Celebration = July 2
ELSE IF Celebration = July 1
END IF

s14 results

2011-06-26T07:16:00.002-04:00

On the road, and pooping (separate stories)

2011-06-22T21:48:00.007-04:00

Life on the road....good times.

Up here in the YYZ again, on week 2 of a 3 week stretch

I'm busting some tuesday-Friday action this week, due to a charity golf outing I had on Monday.

On the days that I fly up here, I'm up at 3:20am, which really works well when you work until 7 or 8pm most nights.

Last night, like most first nights up here in tronto (not a spelling error, that's how it is pronounced up here), I teed up some room service. Shrimp quesadillas, a salad, and a 1/2 bottle of wine. The menu posts glass prices, 1/2 bottle prices, and full bottle prices. Because of my self-diagnosed "issues", I have to analyze the whole goddamn wine list to find out which glass prices and 1/2 bottle prices are the smallest percentage of the full bottle price, and then order that one thinking that somehow i'm winning.

Duh......winning.

So I order some local cab from phaneuf vineyards.

I think the whole room service experience is 1/2 depressing and 1/2 depressing.

Plus a hate that they add 18% gratuity to the bill, but still leave a line for the tip.

So when the room service woman knocked, I opened the door and she says, "can I come in?"

"that's what she said," I instinctively answer, not even trying to be funny.

She laughs uncomfortably, probably due to the comment plus the sight of me in my plaid boxer shorts and "cheetah south Florida" t-shirt that I picked up about 6 years ago.

She put the tray down, I signed the bill, and she left.

I decided to mix things up and eat in my bed instead of at the table 6 feet away. I half-watched America's got talent, and half surfed the web for absolutely nothing in particular. About 30 minutes later, it was around 9:45. I was beat. My little 375 ml bottle of wine was still half full.

I took a couple more sips, then went and brushed my teeth and spit out dark pink toothpaste.

Sad.

I laid down at 9:57 and was asleep by 9:58. It was the best sleep I've had in 2 months. Don't tell Kelly.

So tonight, here I am again, at the bar down the road, with my iPad, that might as well come with a free Loser t-shirt....eating alone....watching the Yankees (bonus) get beat in the 2nd game of a double-header.

Good times.....

Oh, jack shitting update, thanks for reminding me.

So jack has been using the potty now for a few weeks, but pee pee only. He wears big-boy underwear now, not diapers (during the day). However, despite our efforts, he won't shit on the potty (or poop on the shitter). Note: he turns 3 on July 10.

Here's his scam...since he still wears a diaper to bed, he pinches all day until he gets to put his diaper on at night. On Monday, as he was getting ready for bed, he went downstairs, took off his diaper, and shit on the carpet. When mommy came over, he pointed to the shit and said, "mommy, clean up.". Classic move.

Today, he pinched all day again. However, time was not on his ass's side. You see, jack does a little shit dance right before he has to go. He walks on his tip-toes, tells anyone in the room to leave, and tries to stay hidden. He must have gotten that from me because I do the same thing at work.

So today, Kelly walked into the family room around 5pm, and jack was doing his little pre-shit dance. He tells her to leave, and she takes advantage of the opportunity and escorts him to the potty. She sits him down, gives him the iPad to use, and he stays there for 20 minutes.

At the end of the 20 minutes, like checking the oven to see if the cake is done, Kelly pokes her head in and checks on jack.

"all done," he says, and Kelly checks the bowl......no shit.

I think that's the first time I've ever used "no shit" in that context......interesting*.

* not really

So jack exits the bathroom and heads to the family room. While Kelly was feeding Claire, jack takes the small window of opportunity and decides to head to the family room/bathroom. He gets up on one of the plastic bins of toys and unloads in his pants.

"mommy......poopy!

So close.........so close.

s14 results

2011-06-21T09:02:00.001-04:00

One of the many reasons why I love my wife...

2011-06-19T22:23:00.002-04:00

It wasn't that custom father's day card that she made with a picture of the two kids on it...

It wasn't jack's happy father's day footprint painting that she help jack make...

It wasn't the new melitta coffee maker she got me because the old one leaked...

It wasn't the new hammock she bought me that I've been talking about for years...

The reason I love Kelly so much is that after declaring today a "father's day five guys day" (five guys is a burger joint that makes the best goddamn burger on the planet), we headed across the state line to drive 30 minutes to the nearest five guys. When I placed our order, we were number 62. Once our order was called, and the 4 of us sat down to eat.

After about 10 minutes, in between shoveling handfuls of non-body-for-life fries in my face, the guy behind the counter announced, "number 69, your order is ready."

We simultaneously, both with our mouths full of burger and fries, yell, "YEAHHHHH!"

Awesome....

game 7 and a bouncy house

2011-06-16T22:46:00.004-04:00

Greetings from the Marriott bar at the Toronto airport. Apparently, there is a "loud female baby boomer" convention in town. I've never seen so many open bottles of pinot grigio at the same time in my life.

How seriously do the Canadians take their hockey, you ask? (they just played game 7 of the Stanley cup finals last night)

So much so, that my buddy with whom I was at the bar last night had to field a call right before game time from his 11 year old daughter who was in absolute tears because mommy wouldn't let her stay up to watch the hockey game. The call lasted over 10 minutes with daughter pleading to watch the game.

Out of the 37 TVs in the bar, 35 had the game on. Do you think I could get the Yankees/rangers game on?

Hint: it rhymes with "mess" and starts with a "Y".

Kelly and I decided to buy a bouncy house last weekend (THERE'S a sentence I thought I would never type).

Jack turns 3 in less than a month and Claire turns 1 in august. That's two summer birthdays times figure at least 7 years...buying vs renting, we'll "make our money" back by the third use. Kelly said she wants to try it out this weekend, and I told here we would, then we'll let jack try it out too.....hey now!

s14 results

2011-06-16T09:32:00.002-04:00

the marshmallow test

2011-06-15T14:13:00.000-04:00

s14 results

2011-06-15T08:27:00.000-04:00

i almost forgot how good this was...

2011-06-14T18:54:00.002-04:00

s14 results

2011-06-14T09:00:00.002-04:00

close call

2011-06-11T17:57:00.009-04:00

so for the past couple months, every time it rains, water POURS over the gutter in the front of our house (right outside our bedroom window), and also the one in the back. about 6 weeks ago, right after it poured, i got the 8 foot ladder and climbed up onto the roof from the deck off the back of the house. from the deck, it's easy to get to the roof.

i was in silky basketball shorts, a sleeveless sheet, and sneakers (i had just come back from a run). for the gutter in the back, i easily removed all the leaves and shit in the gutter and watched all the captured rain just pour down the drain hole at the end.

very rewarding.

so i decided to climb up the roof, stop at the peak and overlook the neighborhood from a rarely used perspective, and slowly navigate down the front of the house.

now the pitch of the roof in the front is a little steeper. and the drop to the ground is 2 stories, not 10 feet like it is in the back over the deck. i had a 6 foot stick with me and i slowly made it down to the front gutter by the bedroom. i was able to wedge myself a little between part of the roof where 2 pitches came together, and i started clearing out all the shit in the gutter.

however, i was about 10 feet short of cleaning out the rest of the gutter....and the important part, the part that was blocking the drainage hole. i slowly left my post where i was wedged, and slowly started navigating along the roof, 2 feet from the edge and subsequent 20 foot drop to the ground, thinking about how this would be explained in the Darwin Awards email.

as i reach the stick out to the gutter, i slip. in my silky shorts, i slide about a foot towards the edge, and catch myself right before toppling off the roof.

i sniff the air to make sure i hadn't shit my pants, and i hadn't.

i'm now in an awkward position, where if i make any move, i might slip again, and with about a foot left, i have no room for error. i'm off balance too, which was a bonus.

i try my best to lean towards the upward pitch of the roof, in an effort to swing my foot out from underneath me and at least wedge it in the gutter.

i slip. only a few inches from the edge now.

i'm actually panicking a little at this point, and i'm now strategizing on how i'm going to grab the gutter when i fall off the roof, and i'm wondering how well the gutter will support 190 pounds...and what will happen if the gutter breaks away from the roof, and how i will land, etc, etc.

i lean again and try to get myself flat, and get some sort of grip on the shingles with my sweaty hands. i inch my way up and in about 60 seconds, i'm able to crawl back up to safety.

phew.

fucking roof.

2 nights later, it's pouring rain, and the gutter is overflowing with rain, and water is pouring down into the mulch bed. the gutter is laughing at me.

i make a mental note to get back up there, but once the rain stops, i quickly forget....until the next rain.

FINALLY, today, i decided to make the journey. however, this time, i'm going to drag the 20 foot ladder out of the shed and do it the right way. that sumbitch must way 100 pounds. it was raining this morning, and it looked like it was about to rain soon again, so i figured, let's get this bastard cleaned before the rain comes.

20 fucking foot ladder.

the only problem is, all the patio furniture is blocking the ladder, so i might as well lug all that shit down to the patio.

when i get the first set of chairs down there, i realize i have to weed the patio.

so now i've got to fucking weed.

i finish weeding, and head back to the shed. i start up the ATV and start carting chairs down to the patio.

jack, who was inside, hears the ATV and comes running out. a new rule is apparently daddy can now never ride the ATV without jack riding with him, which is fine by me.

jack helps me with a couple runs, i park the ATV outside the shed, and start hand carrying some other shit out. jack heads down to the little pond (about 4 feet x 2 feet) and proceeds to throw little rocks into it...a favorite thing for him. it's a win-win...it keeps him happy, and keeps him busy, so i can actually get shit done.

so i lug the giant ladder over to the front of the house and quickly realize i have another situation. the entire access point to the gutter is covered in thick bushes and a tree. i plant the bottom of the ladder between two bushes, and try to push this fucking ladder up through the branches of the tree. it starts to fall, and i catch it. i somehow manage to land the top of the ladder on the gutter, but it's not much of an angle. so i walk the back of the ladder back, over a bush, and try my best to sink the 2 ends of the ladder into the mulch.

i do a quick "shake the ladder guy test" to make sure it's safe, and take my first step on the ladder.

it immediately pitches hard to the right and i jump off and grab the ladder.

i walk it back some more, but again, landscaping is in the way.

i step on the first rung again, and it leans a little to the right, but not bad. i get on the 2nd step, and now it leans a little left. i'm able to shake the top of the ladder while i'm on it so it's straight.

what could go wrong, seriously.

by the time i hit the 4th step, now i have to navigate through and around the branches of the tree, while still balancing the ladder. you see, the mulch that the ladder is on, is so fucking soft from all the rain, that it's sinking into the mulch bed. i make it to the 5th step, and this fucker is wobbly.

on the 6th step, i'm now about 2 step away from being able to reach the gutter, and again, i find myself planning the "grab onto the gutter before falling" scenario.

on the 7th step, the ladder sinks some more, and i adjust my weight accordingly.

2 more steps i finally reach the gutter. as i reach out to my right to grab the shit out of the gutter, the ladder slides hard right. i grab the roof and balance myself.

fuck.

the ladder is now at an angle under my feet....and it has started raining.

"KELLY!!!!" i yell, knowing full well that with the windows closed, and her chatting on the phone with a friend, that there is now way she will here me.

i consider hoisting myself onto the roof and letting the ladder fall, but then i'd be stuck on the roof, and there is no way kelly can handle that ladder. that would involve calling a neighbor, waiting 20 min for her to even here me yelling, etc.

so i manage to swing the ladder back to the straight position and balance myself. like a doctor performing surgery, i slowly remove all the debris from the gutter w/out making any sudden movements. this takes about a minute.

then i hear a panicked voice, "DAAAAADDDDY!!!! DAAAAAADDDDY!!!!! DAAAADDDDYYYYY!

fuck! jack....pond....rocks.....shit.

"KELLY!!!!", i yell again unsuccessfully. during my yell, the ladder slips again....damn it.

"DADDDDYYYYYYY!!!!!"

i am now panicking. something is wrong with jack...i need to get the fuck over there. but i need to be so fucking careful going back down this ladder.

i start my way down, waving left and right, re-positioning the ladder as i go.

"DADDDDYYYYYYY!!!!!"

"i'm coming, jack!" i yell.

"DADDDDYYYYYYY!!!!!"

i boogie down the next 3 steps and jump to the ground from the third step up. i run as fast as i can along the front of the house and round the corner. i head straight for the pond.

where is jack.

"DADDDDYYYYYYY!!!!!"

i look just past the pond, and jack has his hands up in the air and he's smiling looking up into the sky...he says, "IT'S RAINING!!!!"

sweet 14 results

2011-06-11T08:16:00.001-04:00

congrats to tony pulia on his early lead. and good luck to the seven of you who start their run today with game 66.

sweet 14: round 2 starts today!

2011-06-10T09:56:00.004-04:00

ok, folks. we are all set.

below is a quick vid of jack picking out the first several team names. i'm relatively happy with my braves pick, but not ecstatic. but hey, you never know.

please note: your team's score does not start until game 66 (due to the fact that the white sox have currently played the most games: 65).

some claire vids

2011-06-09T11:12:00.002-04:00

i don't know

2011-06-02T08:57:00.001-04:00

jack just learned how to use "i don't know". and "i don't know" why he finds it so funny....

winner winner chicken dinner

2011-06-02T07:28:00.004-04:00

andi marracco is the new jeff ash. our 2nd repeat winner takes home $2,325...not too bad for a $100 investment.

other winners include:
kelly goodman: $25
larry laviolette: $100
margaret toub: $100
paul goodman: $200

an email will go out for round 2 shortly. good luck, and congratulations once again to andi!

classic

2011-05-31T13:40:00.000-04:00

it's almost official

2011-05-30T09:46:00.004-04:00

only kip bateman can spoil (and tie) andi's repeat of sweet 14 winner. it's very unlikely, but still possible.

my brother paul has one more game to get another 3 and force a 3-way split of the $200 "highest occurrence" prize, which larry laviolette stole from margaret toub on his 52nd game, and last, of the season.

a handful of other teams have another game to try to score 20 runs and claim the elusive 50 dollars...

no matter what happens, it'll be over in two days. start thinking about whether you want to do round 2!

can you say repeat?

2011-05-29T17:37:00.003-04:00

andi marrocco may very well receive an early wedding present...with a 10 last night from the rangers, she has completed the sweet 14 grid, and now has to wait out a couple of other teams that have games remaining.

some teams can still get bonus money until they finish game 51, and a handful of you can still beat or tie andi...and i mean that figuratively, of course.

good luck to all those who still have a chance....!

s14 results

2011-05-27T07:47:00.000-04:00

pat-a-cake

2011-05-23T23:17:00.004-04:00

yeah, i know....i thought it was "patty-cake" too for years, until about a year ago i googled it.

anyway, some background.

the goodman version of pat-a-cake goes like this:
pat-a-cake pat-a-cake baker's man
bake me a cake as fast as you can
roll-it (then simulate rolling)
and pat-it (pat the backs of your hands)
and mark it with a J (or C)
then put it in the oven for jack (or claire) and me.

now, this is where we bust a little free style.

we follow it with "yeah!!!!..." (accompanied with clapping)

then:

karate arms up and down (with the arms cutting through air sound (phew-phew))

then:

a karate chop noise: hi---ya!!!

not sure why, probably because we are always holding the baby's arms.

now pat-a-cake is usually an 18 month and under game, after which, other games seem to take priority.

the other day, we were doing pat-a-cake with claire. but jack jumped in and wanted to take over.

he also likes to help claire in her crib:

by the way, 2 sick kids + 1 sick wife = good times....;)

s14 results

2011-05-22T11:54:00.001-04:00

leave me alone

2011-05-03T22:25:00.004-04:00

so i'm up here in canada, eh?

there's this sports bar that's about a 3 minute walk from my hotel here in toronto that i like to frequent pretty regularly. it's like ruth's chris in white plains, but with hot bartenders and more TVs (no offense eric and vinnie).

oh, by the way, before i forget, one of the things that i miss about NJ when i'm up here is the attitude. everyone is so goddamn nice up here that's it's making me a little batty. no "fuck yous", no "go fuck yourselfs", no "douchebags"...just a lot of pleasant people who like hockey. nobody lays on the horn if they don't accelerate as soon as the light changes, which also annoys me....but i digress....as usual.

oh, so i'm at the bar, and my goal is to go there, watch some hockey and baseball, eat my meal, drink my 2 beers, and return back to the hotel. so i sit at the bar to watch the 3rd period of the caps/lightning game. these two twenty-something chicks sit down to my right, and two guys sit to their right. i'm watching the game, minding my own business, and the two tools at the end start working the two chicks.

guy 1: so, are you girls from around here?

(nice one)

chick 1: how old are you and how much do you make?

chick 2 laughs.

wow, go chick 1. a little aggressive, but i like it.

guy 2: wow, you don't mess around.

chick 1 (checking her dingleberry): no, i don't, especially not with you.

okay, rude, but again, i like it. takes me back to my roots.

guy 1: so, what do you do for a living?

chick 2: we're nurses.

guy 1: wow, that's really cool

chick 1 wants NOTHING to do with these guys, and she's sitting next to me, so she has chick 2 working as a buffer between her and guy 1, the more annoying of the two, who is also impervious to every "leave us alone" sign that these chicks are giving him. behind the bar is a mirror, so while watching the two TVs above the bar, i can do an occasional eye drop to see the chicks faces as tool 1 and tool 2 unsuccessfully work their D game.

after about 15 minutes, chick 1 is really getting annoyed and is letting chick 2 know it.

chick 1: why did you even start TALKING to them?

chick 2: well they stared talking to me first, what was i supposed to do?

chick 1: how about IGNORE them? (done with eyebrows up, a wrinkled forehead, and the "i just smelled shit" face)

chick 2: talk to the guy over there.

fuck.

fuck fuck fuck.

you see, i'm the "guy over there". i quickly become the biggest washington capitals fan of all time and i'm GLUED to the game. my eyes don't even leave the TV to take a sip of beer as i reach for it blindly. every shot, every faceoff, every check, i'm engrossed.

my defense mechanism is successful, as i hear chick 1 say to chick 2, "he's watching the game".

smart canadian she is (done in best yoda voice).

then...commercial.

fuck.

i glance at the other TV, and i quickly become the #1 vancouver canucks fan....but within 30 seconds of that game, it goes to commercial.

i glance at the mirror, and guy 1 and guy 2 are trying to engage chick 2, so chick 2 nudges chick 1 to talk to me. i quickly go to my back up plan and launch Angry Birds on my phone, a game that has consumed more time on my phone than actual talk time.

chick 1: is that angry birds? i LOVE that game.

me: yup

chick 2: where are you from? (turning her shoulder away from guy 1 and guy 2)

me: new jersey

chick 1 (laughing): how YOU doin'?!!!!

me (in best NJ italian accent): good. how YOU doin'?

now i really don't want to engage these chicks, but they are looking for any reason to avoid talking to frick and frack. i decide that i'm not going to be funny scott, but rather one-word answer dick scott.

chick 1: so what brings you to toronto

me: work

chick 2: what kind of work do you do?

me: i'm in soft porn.

fuck.

fuck fuck fuck.

it's a layup question. just say "computer stuff", follow it up with a couple more dry, closed-door answers, wait for the caps game to come back from commercial, and immerse yourself in the game. but no. you couldn't resist, could you.

a laughter bomb goes off and suddenly they want to get to know me.

chick 1: soft porn, huh! REALLY!

me: well first i just started out dancing, but you know how those things go.

(idiot, way to turn them away)

chick 2: seriously?

me: no. i'm a software engineer.

chick 1: what's that?

me: it has to do with trains.

(two blank stares accompany the cricket noises. perfect. i'm losing them)

me: i implement large-scale enterprise resource planning systems for companies looking to upgrade their legacy systems to a full-suite of logistics, accounting, and reporting modules.

chick 2: oh.

chick 1: that's sounds cool

me: yeah, it's fucking awesome.

the two of them simultaneously check their cell phones for nothing in particular right around the time both hockey games came back on. they didn't say another word to me. it was perfect.

remind me to tell you the story about my dog eating 2 chocolate easter bunnies this week....i gotta run. L8r.

s14 results

2011-05-03T08:54:00.000-04:00

s14: just missed

2011-05-01T08:26:00.002-04:00

so andi and her TX rangers needed a 10 to win it. in the 9th inning, TX up 8-2, and with runners on 1st and 2nd, the rangers hit a 2-run double, making it 10-2.

then, another meaningless single to make it 11-2. thank God.

this seems like 17 years ago...

2011-04-17T15:21:00.002-04:00

oh wait....that's right.

one of the big differences between having 2 kids and having 0 kids, is before kids, this blog entry would be about a 15 minute read....about the 1994 NY rangers, this game, the jersey i bought not knowing at the time, why i will always hate the NJ devils, what this goal meant to me, why i love hockey, differences between men and women and why this still brings a tear to my eye....but with 2 kids on a sunday afternoon, i'm lucky to get this in.

that's what he said...

s14 results

2011-04-17T07:21:00.002-04:00

almost the perfect night

2011-04-08T21:55:00.005-04:00

so a few days ago, kelly says to me, "don't forget, i have tricky tray on friday night."

tricky tray. the biggest scam since the 50/50 raffle. but hey, it's kind of like gambling, so it's okay in my book. it also apparently has nothing to do with run DMC.

she's getting picked up at 6:15pm.

so i think to myself, what am i going to do with myself all alone on a friday nite? (besides that)

baseball.

ah, my dear friend, baseball.

yankees are 4-2. i'm on my 2nd week of the diet being over. i have a brand new 1.75L bottle of ketel one that i catch winking at me from the corner. perfect.

for those of you without a penis, and for those of you who are not true baseball fans, and for those of you not named andi marrocco*, it may sound like a pretty pathetic evening...but for me....after a LONG work week, it's just what the proverbial doctor ordered.

* big yankee fan, who also does not have a penis**

** as far as i know***

*** now i have an interesting visual****

****sorry, andi.

so my brother calls me today around 12:15pm.

"day game, today," he says, sharing the joy that the red sox are 0-6.

"fuck, again?" i ask, reminding me of my own wedding night.

"2pm," he says.

shit.

shit shit shit.

that kills my whole evening.

but not necessarily...if i plan correctly.

i go to the basement, my man cave that gets visited less and less frequently with 2 little kids running around. i record the 2pm game, add 90 minutes of buffer, and go back upstairs. i must now avoid facebook, cbssports, msnbc.com, etc. as long as i don't hear about the game, i'll be fine.

2:48pm. i get an IM from another guy at work.

"2-1, yanks, top of the second!" wolfgang types.

"no! no! no! no!" i type back.

"i'm recording the game!"

"sorry," he replies back.

fuck.

but that's okay. it's only an inning, and at least they're winning.

so claire goes down nicely right before kelly leaves, and i finish jack's bath, get him dressed in his PJs, play "throw the big baseball around the room" game, read 12 books, tell him a made up story about our dog piper, turn out the light, watch him fall asleep, and sneak out of his room at 6:48pm.

i take a nice long shower, get dressed in sweatpants and a comfy t-shirt, and head down to the kitchen.

"pssssst," i hear the ketel one bottle whisper from the corner.

i smile at him. i walk over to him and we high-five.

i introduce him to his three buddies: glass, ice, and splash of OJ.

i grab the iPad, the two baby monitors, the baby monitor charger, some spicy snacks, and the phone. clearly enough items for two trips, but i find a way of lazily doing it in one.

i set up the monitors, i turn the game on, i get under the blanket, i put the lightly-orange-colored vodka in the cup holder, i kick my feet up, i open the canister of spicy carbs and fat, i open the iPad, and i hit play on the TV.

heaven.

now last year, on the few occasions that these nights presented themselves, i would get a blank scorecard and record the game. for me, this is fun. even alone. it's called being one of these.

so this year, i decide to see if there is an electronic scorecard i can use. i google it and don't have much luck, but i don't really care.

then, on a whim, i go to the app store on my iPad and search for baseball scorecard.

i find an app.

a FREE app...called scorekeeper.

it's perfect. PERFECT i tell you.

i spend 10 minutes filling out my lineups, entering players names, their numbers, their positions, whether they bat lefty or righty, whether they THROW lefty or righty (like if fucking MATTERS). in between players, i take little sips of my drink and shove tex-mex trail mix in my pie hole. i look just past the iPad and notice that my feet are rocking back and forth. i've come to learn that when i'm doing this, it's the equivalent of a a dog wagging his tail. i smile at myself and continue to setup my game.

i get everything setup and hit start game. it has carl crawford leading off.

fuck.

fuck fuck fuck.

i set it up wrong. the yankees are playing at fenway and are the away team. the default setting on the scorekeeper app is that your team is the home team.

could i still use the game as if the red sox were playing in NY? yes.

would my self-diagnosed OCD allow that? no.

i hit the menu button and find a "switch away/home" button. i press it and say "nice" out loud to nobody in particular.

first batter: brett gardner.

fucking geniuses. awesome.

my feet flicker with happiness.

some 25 year old in a conference room back in 2008 said during the developer's meeting, "hey, we should put a button in there that allows the user to switch the home and away team....you know, in case there is some dumbass from NJ sipping on vodka and not paying attention"

i love that guy.

so for the next 2 hours, i sat there with my iPad and drink(s), recording every pitch, every hit, every play, every throw, and every out until it was over.

final: boston 9, yankees 6.

almost the perfect night.

i packed up all the shit, made it upstairs in one trip, poured a maker's mark, came over to my chair, and decided to tell you about it.

kelly's not home yet. carolina won and buffalo won in OT. hockey season, for me as a ranger's fan, comes down to 1 day....tomorrow. they are tied for 8th and need a win to be in.

tiger is 3 back.

yanks/boston at 1pm.

it's gonna be 60 and sunny tomorrow.

life is good.

the diet

2011-03-28T10:21:00.002-04:00

sweet 14: teams picked

2011-03-27T10:30:00.001-04:00

borderline appropriate that i got the blue jays....good luck!

girl on girl

2011-03-20T19:19:00.004-04:00

it was supposed to be an innocent photo shoot of our 7 month old, claire, and our 32 month old, jack (yeah, that's right....i'm still stickin' with the months).

do you THINK while kelly was trying to get claire's attention, and get her to look right above the photographer and smile, that i could resist the girl-on-girl visual that was unfolding right in front of me?

of course not.

snip snip: the follow up appointment

2011-03-10T20:34:00.008-05:00

remember snip snip?

one thing that the doctor had told me back in early january was to schedule a follow up appointment in a couple months just to make sure everything was okay. i guess to ensure that the tubes hadn't somehow re-connected.

as a guy, my intention was to never go back and just assume that once i got my pitch count up to 15-20, that i'd be shooting blanks and then everyone wins.

[duh...winning]

well, i'm married to one of these, so that clearly was not going to happen.

kelly would ask me almost daily: "did you schedule your appointment with dr. goldensteinburgman?"

"no," i would reply.

then again the next day: "did you schedule your appointment with dr. goldensteinburgman?"

"no," i would reply.

this went on for about a week or so, until finally i caved. it was actually the threat of the downside of NOT going, and what it meant to my deposit options, so to speak.

so i made the appointment for last friday, march 4.

as the date approached, i remembered how uncomfortable it was having another man fondle my situation, but i didn't mind this doctor, he had a good sense of humor. plus, i told myself, it could always be worse...it could involve a latex glove and lube (reminds me of my bachelor party).

so last wednesday, kelly subtlety reminds me of my doctor's appointment on friday.

"so, are you scared about giving a sample?" she asks.

"SAMPLE!" i reply, "what are you talking about?"

"well i'm sure they're going to request a sample to make sure you are sterile," she says.

"i don't think so," i say.

"well what the hell do you think he's going to do?" she asks.

"i figure he's just going to roll my situations around with his hand and make sure everything feels right," i tell her.

(laughing) "i don't think so," she says, smiling.

"you think i'm going to have to pull one off?" i ask, slightly panicky.

"yes, i do," she says.

fuck.

fuck fuck fuck.

this is not what i had in mind. and the more i thought about it, the more i realized that she was probably right.

"this is BULLshit," i say to nobody in particular.

now there's a countdown clock that starts in my head...and it reads 42 hours.

i do NOT want to have to pleasure myself in some doctor's office. what's the setup in there? is there porn? is it mags or video? if there's video, do i have a selection? i'm picturing an old TV with a VCR...if it's mags, are they recent? when's the last time i used a mag? what's the lube situation?

OMG, i'm freaking out.

abort...abort.

"i'm not going," i tell kelly weakly.

"yes you are!" she responds. "why, cause you can't jerk off in a cup?"

"YES, THAT'S EXACTLY WHY!" i whine to her, doing my best 2 1/2 year old impersonation.

the next day i wake up. the countdown is at 30 hours.

shit.

the visual of the whole doctor's office is becoming more and more of an issue. i need my privacy. i have a whole routine. it'll be 12:30 in the afternoon in an office building, i can't expect to just walk in there, check-in, grab a cup, go to some room, and take care of business?

friday comes...no pun intended.

the appointment is hanging over my head all morning. at 11:45, i get in the car and head for the appointment. i debate blowing off the appointment and just heading to the mall, but somehow she'd find out.

i get to the urologist's office. i walk in and the place is packed. i put my name down on the check-in board and try not to make eye contact with any of the women behind the counter.

i quickly turn around and head for the corner....a place into which nobody puts baby.

about 15 minutes later i hear, "mr. goodman?"

i stayed quiet.

"mr. goodman?

what the fuck am i doing. i get up and walk to the counter.

that'll be $50, please.

(how do you like THAT fuckin' co-pay. ahhh, health insurance for the independent contractor).

50 bucks to pleasure myself...that's what this is coming down to. i smile as i sign the credit card receipt.

somehow because i'm paying for it, it doesn't seem that dirty....i'm not sure why.

i head back to the corner and continue playing yahtzee on my phone.

"mr. goodman?" i hear about 10 minutes later.

my heart jumps. my skin gets a little clammy. what the hell am i doing here?

i walk towards the open door that the nurse is holding, and i'm looking for any kind of smirk on her face. i'm also wishing that i didn't wear a long trench coat, as it made me look the part that much more.

she takes me too a small room and leaves the door open. now i must wait for dr. goldensteinburgman. i rub my sweaty palms together, but then i stop thinking that if a nurse walks by and sees me doing this, she'll think i'm in the middle of foreplay or something.

why is the door open for Christ's sake?

this is NOT what i was expecting. no TV, no VCR, no mags. i'm sitting on a little chair against the wall. to my left is just information about a swollen prostate.

and to my right is table with the some paper on it.

where the hell am i going to take care of my situation? if i'm on that table, the paper is going to stick to my ass. will i drop my pants and boxers? will i keep the boxers on and use the hole in front? GET ME OUT OF HERE!

about 10 minutes later, a nurse pops her head in and asks quickly, "do you have a prescription for a semenalysis?"

"come again?" i ask, not on purpose.

"are you here for a semenalysis?"

"um....i guess," i reply. "i'm here for my follow up appointment with dr. goldensteinburgman."

"okay," she says quickly and walks away.

semenalysis. it's the first time in my 39 years on this planet that i've heard that word. i love how they use the 2nd syllable of the word 'semen', and use it as the first syllable of the word 'analysis'. clever, and sounds much sexier than 'semen analysis', and i guess better than 'shmegmalysis'.

another 10 minutes goes by. i hear next to me a guy that sounds JUST like redd foxx talking to another nurse. it doesn't sound like HIS door is closed either. what the fuck is WRONG with this place.

[done in best redd foxx voice] "yeah, it still hurts."

[nurse] are you on any medication?

[redd] yeah, oxycodone and anti-biotics.

[nurse] when was your surgery?

[redd] 3 days ago. it still really hurts.

[nurse] well it's going to until that hole closes up.

huh?

[nurse] sometimes when they laser the prostate, parts of it will come out in your urine. it's natural, so don't be concerned.

[redd] do i need to worry about incontinence?

[nurse] you may, but it won't be permanent.

[redd] there's just more blood than i would have thought.

as i'm listening to this shit, i'm wondering if there's anyway i could just make a run for it. how am i supposed to perform with this type of dialog going on?

another 5 minutes goes by. NOW i'm getting impatient. i laugh at the fact that i'm an oxymoron....an impatient patient.

i walk over to the wall and take a look at this:

a couple of observations:

1. on photo shoot day, did they ask each of the 8 of them to wear a specific colored shirt to match the pamphlet? or did they match the pamphlet to the shirt?

2. do they draw straws for who gets which pamphlet? the guy in the top left, did he draw ED and say, "okay, best out of 3?"

3. international syphilis? oh, i mis-read that.

4. lower right...get paid $5.00. yeah, i like 5 bucks. let's see how THIS scam works.

just as i go to find out how to make 5 bucks, dr. goldensteinburgman walks in.

"good afternoon!"

i let out a little homer simpson yell and drop the pamphlet on the floor.

the doctor asks how the procedure went and asked if i had any problems.

"great" and "no", i answer quickly, waiting for him to hand me a cup with instructions.

"go ahead and unbutton your pants and pull them down," he instructs me.

"are you going to buy me a drink first?" i ask while unbuttoning my pants.

he smiles while putting a glove on. he checks out my boys in 10 seconds and asks me to zip up.

"everything feels fine," he tells me, as he starts to write down something on his pad.

could i be right? could it be as easy as that? was kelly wrong?!!!

he hands me a blue prescription card and tells me to see one of the girls up front to schedule an appointment at st. barnabas for a semenalysis.

"oh, and tell them to refund your co-pay," he says. "you shouldn't have to pay for a 5 minute visit."

he bids me farewell and walks out.

winner winner chicken dinner.

and so begins another cycle of, "did you schedule your appointment at st. barnabas?"

"no."

"did you schedule your appointment at st. barnabas?"

"no."

i figure i can buy myself another 2 weeks....

to be continued.........

walking the line with claire

2011-02-28T13:35:00.002-05:00