Welcome to 2011

Okay, so first post of the year. Lots of stuff going on, or not going on. Not really sure how things got to where they are, but they are here, and I'm going to try to figure them out.

1. I have a cell phone. Yes, I know. I said I would never ever own one. Turns out it became a bit of a necessity, and I have to thank my buddy and brother Stew for lending me a hand on this one and providing me with a line on his account. And NO, you can't have my number. Just because I own one, does not mean I'm going to use it. I'll keep it around as a paper weight between calls from my parents or my kids' school.

2. I have been without computer or Internet for awhile now. I can thank my mom and dad, and our friend Steve, for having an extra desktop that found its way to the Mookified Compound. I can thank my Aunt Denise and Uncle Bill for setting me up with 3 months of Internet at no cost to me, while I get back on my feet, financially speaking. So now you can all get your regular updates on the Colonel wreaking havoc and unleashing (ironically enough) the Dogs of War! As well as the occasional updates on what the young Mooks are up to in an effort to maintain a steady presence of hilarity in life.

3. The most recent Census has the Mookified Compound down to 2 full time citizens, now, with 2 other dual-citizenship residents in the form of the Little Mooks. Since the cat is out of the bag with both families, I guess I can get it off my chest now. I have recently found myself to be a single father, as my wife relocated to her own apartment along with our sons. There is no need to speculate on the details, as those are private, and fault always lays with both adult parties. She is still the mother of my children, and essentially off limits when speaking to me. You're free to hold whatever opinions about either of us, but I don't need to hear about it. We are working together to make sure the kids can lead as normal a life as possible, given the two-home situation now, and we are relating amicably. It was a nice long run, of just shy of 14 years since our first date, and 10 1/2 years of marriage. Somewhere along the line, the flames burned out. I guess I got complacent and took her for granted for far too long without realizing the path it would take us down. She is/was the love of my life, and it sucks, but it is what it is. I regret none of it (minus the fact that it took a wrong turn and ended), and will cherish the memories for the rest of my life. I can only wish her the best life has to offer from this point forward.

So I find myself in a slightly sparser (is that a word?) apartment. I have had great help from people in the form of well wishing, lending me a hand in moving furniture into here to make it a home, food,etc etc etc. So I set out to decorate it more in my own style, but not overboard. It is the abode of a single father, not a mere bachelor. But if you must know...yes there are a couple flats of ramen noodles, as there should be in any world that is halfway right. I keep them up high though, so the Colonel doesn't get any ideas about stealing and eating my ramen. He already just this morning tried to chew the power cord to the phone charger, and tried to shred my arm and hand up shortly after returning from work. I suspect a power struggle will ensue at some point. I have prepared and studied the latest techniques on smothering a cat in his sleep by an ancient Chinese wiseguy. Then maybe I'll get the recliner to myself, unless Josh is in the house. He seems to have taken it upon himself to lay claim to the recliner whenever I'm not sitting there.

So, here's to a new year, entirely new beginnings, and hoping for and working towards the best.

Thanksgiving Eve

Okay, so for those of you who don't know, my home computer crashed this past weekend. I am thankful for this opportunity in a not so enthused manner, that it might teach me to quit thinking about hard drive backup systems, and actually get the stuff backed up! Too many photos over the last 10 years on there that are too precious and memory filled to be losing! So I am currently at the public library up the road, and will continue to check in occasionally from here, until more suitable arrangements can be taken care of. That's also why this post will come today and not tomorrow...since the library will be closed and all.

So today, I get to be thankful for a lot of things. I am thankful first and foremost for my wife, who has put up with me for close to 14 years, just over 10 of them as my wife. I am also thankful to her for giving me two beautiful and exciting boys! I am thankful for those boys, for the joy and the little life lessons they teach me everyday (mostly patience! just kidding). I'm also thankful for her new vehicle...I now have permission to drive myself to and from work, and anywhere else I'd like to go! Luv ya honey!

I am thankful, that after a long wait, my best friend from childhood, Jed, and his wife, Naomi, have finally come to realize their dream of parenthood. Oh, the joys and newfound ways to become completely exhausted mentally and physically shall be great. Mostly to those of us who get to see/hear about it! So you two better be thankful for any nap you can squeeze in.

I am thankful that my cat will be around to keep me company over the holiday and guard the apartment while I sleep between shifts.

I am thankful to my parents, our family friend Doc, and to her parents, for providing a place for my wife and kids to experience some real Thanksgiving get togethers.

I am thankful for Swanson, or Banquet, or whoever provides me with a delectable imitation Thanksgiving meal that takes approximately 22-28 minutes to prepare in the oven, or a total of 5-6 1/2 minutes in the microwave. And also to Anderson-Erickson daireis, for the egg nog they put out each year that I will enjoy with the aforementioned meal. And no worries, I will remember to give thanks to the Lord before I dig into this meal. Partially for seeing to it that I get somethign to eat, as well as the thankfulness for not having blown myself, the oven, and/or the food up before I could eat it (the food not the oven).

I am thankful for the troops serving, especially my buddies Trevor and Gerry who are pre-deployed and deployed, may God look over them and bring them all back home safe.

I am also thankful for my readers and their occasional comments. While I write this stuff mostly for my own amusement, it is nice to see people read my writing and think well enough of some of it to say something.

Memories In Photo- Part 2

Dani in a self picture on the car ride down to Branson
Here's the whole family at a stop in Yellowstone. Dani takes wonderfully great photos, but it's even better to see her grace a few!
Mom with her boys at Rushmore, and one of her and Josh at our campsite outside Custer SD.

Nice shot of my wife, myself and our oldest out for a horseride up a mountain. It was my first time riding a horse. Dani was quite amused by me this day.
And of course, the obligatory old time photo of the family. Dani was looking a bit too sizzling for a family photo here, but hey, I don't mind checking her out in this outfit.

Here's my wife on the boat for a cocktail cruise before the fountain light show at the Landing in Branson. And a nice picture of us in the Hotel prior to dinner, where she dazzled in this self-made dress. The waiters fell over themselves, the men in the restaurant whiplashed themselves taking longer looks, and their women got a bit jealous. I was one proud man to have this Lady on my arm for the evening.

Extending My Reach, Expanding My Realm

So recently I have posted a bit on my journey into and through manhood. I have spent a lot of time reading on the subject, and reflecting on my own life, seeing what matches up between the two; what matches up with my ideas or not.

When I was growing up, I was often out away from the house, away from my parents. Most of the time by my own volition, other times at their behest. Turns out that I could be a bit of an annoying pest from time to time- go figure. I longed for adventure as a kid, but was always told to play it safe. Do this, don't do that, blah blah blah. Most often I would do the do list in public. Conforming to those around me. Rather than be me, I tried to please people. Out of sight, I often participated in the don't list, occasionally with my best friend, but many times on my own. I was told be a boy, but be a good boy. The times I was told to be a man, was when I complained of a perceived injustice or at a moment of injury. Beyond that, I never really knew what a man actually is. I saw the loner in John Wayne, Mr all-American heroic cowboy who could do anything. I liked that idea and set it into my brain. Well, I achieved the loner part pretty easily. For when I was alone, I could do things, and if I failed, it was only me who knew. When I tried and failed at something in front of others, the message was quite clear that I was not good enough. When I would express my dreams to do something, like be a pro ballplayer, I was often confronted with the stats on how little chance there is, and how I should think more realistically, more practically. I liked my dreams, but they were just illusions in my head. The real world just didn't have a part for me in that dreamworld. Rather than push myself, I bought into all the hype entering my ears and eyes, and slowly resigned myself to a life of dull necessity.

I remember once, when I was older and I was making my car payments through my dad who had cosigned the loan for me. I had worked many hours day after day, and I walked into my dad's work while I was in town to give him the money to write a check to the bank. I gave him well over a thousand dollars in cash to cover my $100/month expense as well as a huge payment on my car loan. I didn't say anything, but I still had $600 in my pocket and another $900 in a bank account. I was quite pleased with myself. And my dad commented to his co-worker who was standing nearby about how responsible I was being, and that he was quite proud of me in my dealings. I'm sure he had mentioned being proud of me about other things at points along the way, but that was the first time I really truly realized he was saying this. So in my mind, the job of a man was to go to work, and pay his bills. In a nutshell, that's what it took; all it took. Dad and I never really talked about what it is to be a man, and I never bothered to ask. I just watched, and went with what my eyes saw and my ears heard in the public realm.

Then I got married, already with one child, and later we would have a 2nd son born to us. So, it was time to man up. I had a job, I worked hard to pay the bills, and make sure we had a roof over our head and food in our belly, along with a little extra money to help cover incurred debts along the way. I got up, kissed the wife goodbye, went to work, came home, ate food, watched TV, played with the boy for awhile, went to bed, and repeated it the next day. Here I was, Mr Provider, Man of the House, doing my duties of work and paying bills. We would do family oriented things from time to time, but mostly my life was centered around work and bills. My wife and I would get into arguments over little things. Me being me, would argue that this cant be done, or we cant go do that, because I need that money to pay this bill or that bill. My life had literally become centered not around my family and living life, but around what bill was due next, what problem came up that I was going to have to pay for now, how many hours could I be allowed to work to make up for this new discrepancy in my financial outlook.

In essence, I became what I thought I saw my dad to be. A man works and pays his bills. I never saw the other side of him, the side that drew my mother in and makes her love him to this day. (I can't see it; he's always got a bit of stubble going on, and in my estimation a bit ugly. Just kidding, Dad!) My wife struggled in her life as well, especially with the marriage. As a guy, I hunted her down, I pursued her, and eventually I was able to persuade her to be mine. And then, it just slowly died out. I made the compliments here and there, I tried to do things for her, get her gifts, take her places, whatever. But the hunt was over, and I was drunkenly complacent, not unlike a guy right after a healthy sized Thanksgiving meal. I just sat about wasting away, waiting for my belly to be unstuffed. I basically 'took a nap' in regards to her, focusing mostly on the man things of going to work and paying the bills.

While I did those things, I left her home to take care of the kids, clean the house, and just be the good domesticated wife. Of course my wife was never really built for that role alone. Don't get me wrong, when it comes to cooking, and mothering and just about any task, my wife is at the top of her game. Even in the work world, my wife sets the standards for herself well above that of her coworkers and even the expectations of her superiors. She learns, adapts and applies knowledge quickly, as though she has known it all along. In fact over the past couple years, instead of just bitching about her 'promotions' that came with pay cuts and increased responsibilities, she merely took ownership of her role, expanded her knowledge base, and was probably more adept at her job than anyone there, including her superiors, who were merely personnel managers as far as action goes.

With the absence of my emotions in the form of communication and support (I seemed more worried about how much her paycheck was and when it came in, and what bills needed paid), she turned to her work as a major focus. She turned more to the support of her friend instead of me, who could be counted on mostly to just do the same crap I was doing every other day. My complacency wasn't just a self-identity killer (as I hid myself behind my job), but it was killing my wife's femininity in regards to me. I had realized, only well after the fact, that I had slipped from actively loving my wife to merely taking her for granted. I have since learned that this is the quickest way to kill any sense of romance in a marriage. My wife just settled into her routine, patiently waiting for me to hear her, actually hear her, and to correct my mistakes in regards to how I live my life, as well as how I treat her, but one saying comes to mind: Abused patience turns to fury. - Thomas Fuller

She has felt that she was no longer the adventure, not inspiring enough, and not worth my efforts, but just too much trouble for my self-absorbed lifestyle and mindset to deal with. In other words, she didn't feel that she was the beauty to be loved wholly. In response to this, it is only natural that a woman puts up her self-defenses towards men in general, and especially the men in her life that can still hurt her, like her husband.

To a certain degree, I recognized this on an intellectual level, but I wasn't truly learning it. As I have done my reading, I have extended my reach of reading into the world of women. I'm new at it, and by no means an expert. In fact, I'm scared beyond my ability to fathom such fear. Men are simple and easy to figure out. Women are a bit more complex. Yet I press on, because if I am ever to be able to get it, I am going to have to expand myself into the realm of a woman, to understand her mind, her heart and her soul. This is the part of true manhood, which I never really knew about. I grew up knowing only a few things about girls: they have cooties (we all learned this early on), they are nothing but trouble (I learned this from DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince as well as shows like Jerry Springer), and as guys we just like them for some damn reason we can't figure out (and sex-ed class never answered that question)...which goes back to the trouble part. We know we want them, whether or not we know why, and once we have conquered them so to speak, we look around for the next one to conquer. Essentially most guys are bastards at some point in their life, with some of them eventually figuring out that isn't the way to go. Some guys remain just guys, and not men. Just because you turned 18, or moved out of your parents' house does not mean you're a man, in the true sense. Trust me, I've done both, and at the age of 31, I'm just beginning to fully realize that maybe I wasn't truly a man, but a still a lot more so a boy, or just a guy.

Most guys prefer to look at life as a series of puzzles and problems to be solved, and this applies to our attitude as women as well. Rather than looking at a woman as a problem to be solved, we forget that a woman is a vast wonder to be explored. An adventure to be had everyday of our lives, using our strength as men to tackle the adventure that is a woman. Not to conquer her and move on, but to get to really know her at the innermost intimate levels (not just sex). But to fully expose yourself to her, and allow her to feel safe in secure in making herself naked to you (again, in the proverbial sense). But to take a woman for granted, over a long period of time, can result in her building walls around her, that she feels she has to protect herself, control her world, to avoid the pain that a guy can bring her, to avoid the painful vulnerability and broken trusts that are the risk of any real relationship. In essence, by being just guys instead of men, we steal a woman's femininity, her very core, forcing her to replace it with something else a little less natural. Many of of guys act like we listen, but often we just hear the noises associated with Charlie Brown's teacher, and never get to understand the women in our life. And when they suddenly shoot lightning bolts out their eyes at you, or worse yet display apathy towards you, as guys we stand (or sit) there completely dumbfounded, as to why this might be. We run through our head what we have done. We went to work, we paid the bills, we took out the trash, we didn't cheat on her. What in God's name could be wrong?

Well, maybe that's the problem. We forgot about God. We forgot the true name that God gave us as men made in his image, instead bearing and living out the name the world gave us. We forgot that our wives or girlfriends are essentially the daughters of Eve, the mother of all mankind. That we are to continually seek and pursue her as much as we are expected to do with God. We are to seek true beauty, and true love with all our heart, in a never ending journey. For God really is both love and beauty, and a woman is the bearer of that image of God. Now, I see why we feel this natural inclination towards women. there is, no matter deeply buried, something in us that tells us to go after the woman. But as with most things, we always think we have the next day, or the next week, or year, or whatever to accomplish whatever project or mission in life we have slated for 'later'. But we really don't know, if you really think about it, if any of that will come to pass. We take today for granted, and thusly our women for granted. I know I have, and as I have been reading and seeing the truths for the first time in my adult life, I feel as though I'm being hit by a brick from Heaven. That brick is full of knowledge, but it hurts like hell when it smacks you. Like a spanking to a child, it sometimes requires a little bit of hurt, or a lot (my dad could really pack a wallop), to make the message clear. Taking a time-out doesn't always cut it, but rather the issue needs to be addressed swiftly and directly. Maybe then the lesson will take, and the mistake won't be repeated anymore.

Also as I read, and I have seen communications from friends or words spoken to me from a friend about situations they have had, and I hear, see, and feel the beauty they bespeak, and it pains me to hear it. It feels like hell, because what they write or say sounds wonderful, and romantic, and like the perfection of a dream world encapsulated in the small moments, and I realize that I didn't necessarily give enough of myself to provide my wife with more of a love story to such a high degree that she deserves. I realize life on earth and in relationships isn't going to be always perfect, but it could be more perfect than what it is now with even just the slightest efforts, of which I have withheld. I hold many good memories, many great thoughts and affections for my wife, but inside of me. I rarely let them out. I don't know if I'm just subconsciously trying to be the strong silent type, or if I'm scared of being told off or rebuffed in anyway to avoid my own pains.

I remember first seeing my wife in October of 1996 at our place of work. She was a vision of beauty to beheld. She had on jeans and this deep blue sweater. When I met her outside, she had on a heavy coat, and the hood was pulled tight around her face that only her eyes, her cute button of a nose, and her small mouth could be seen. I was very smitten with her. I didn't care who she was dating, married to, or whatever, I had to know this one girl; this beautiful woman who made my stomach churn, my legs weak, and not just my heart, but my mind skip a beat. I had to be careful and slow down my speech in order to sound like I had things 'together' and be impressive and all that manly macho bullshit I was convinced was the way to be.
And after 14 years since I first saw her, she still turns me on as much now as she did then. I just found a way, to my own detriment as well as demeaning to her, to hide it better.

I regret that beyond almost anything I have ever done in my life. And yet, I know that before I can repair us, I must first retool and build myself up to where I'm supposed to be, to be my true self, before she can accept my overtures in the same manner she did in our more innocent first days of teenage love. I think my lesson is one that many guys need to learn, and the quicker the better. For if one is truly honest, it's much easier to build up a happy woman than it is to heal her hurts that you inflicted.

And yes, even the thought of such a journey, to explore our own emotions, much less those of a woman, is one of the scarist ideas we can have. Acting on it as a mission is even scarier. Yet, regardless of the outcome in our personal life, we can draw upon the strength of God to enhance the warrior, the adventurer that lives within our soul, to make this journey into the unknown realms. We shall come out stronger in the end, should we see ourselves through it. And if we have a significant other in our lives, maybe that relationship, even if all seems to be lost and over, can become stronger and fuller than we could only imagine it to be in our dreams.

You just have to make yourself vulnerable, no matter how scary or hurtful the idea may be, and give everything an open-minded and honest chance. To go about it any other way is both unfair to yourself and those you love, but dead wrong in the approach.

Writing To Write

So, its been a couple of weeks since I've written anything down on this blog. Most of my writing during this time has been either notes to my wife, or adding more writings to one of my books.

At count yesterday, formatting the book to a smaller size than the standard Word document of 8.5" x 11", I had 150 pages typed out. I have since added a few more chapters. Obviously it is all rough draft at this point, and I expect once I move forward with the publishing aspect, that an editor will start eviscerating my works and paring it down to a much smaller number. So the more I write now, the closer I'll be towards having a book of decent length when I go into my rewrites.

I have also used some of my weekend to hang out with my boys. The youngest boy, Buggy, recently learned how to ride his bike. Last weekend all four of us took a short ride around our part of town. Since then I took the boys onto a nearby walking/bike trail for some more experience off the streets. The oldest boy, Josh, has just been speeding along on his bike, getting out ahead of myself and Buggy, before stopping and waiting for us to catch up, and then continuing on his merry little way. Josh was sick this weekend, and is in fact on the couch behind me right now, home from school. So Buggy and I went for a nice little ride father-son ride by ourselves while Josh hung out at home and my wife was baking pies and cleaning the house. I don't get any of the pie. this is a bit of a disappointment to a pie lover like me, but it is the going exchange rate for our friend Trevor coming over and helping me fix the brakes on my car. Pretty sweet deal I'd say.

Anyways, Buggy got to decide which way to go, which he took great delight in. We road through a small residential subdivision to the west of us that is a pretty hilly terrain. He had mixed feelings about the downhill treks at times, worrying he was going too fast and might wreck himself, but he soldiered on and even managed to use his little legs to pedal himself right up some fairly long hills. There was only one moment in which he scared the bejeezus out of me. We were going on a downward slope, and as we traveled down the sidewalk he was out in the lead, pedaling away instead of coasting. I saw the car beginning to back out of the drive. I yelled at him to stop, but sometimes his own panic causes him to seize up and not hit the brakes. Luckily the car stopped and he steered himself right around it. I had the girl in the car apologizing to me for not seeing him, and him apologizing to me for not stopping in time. I was just glad he was okay, and did not relish the idea of having to tell his mother to meet us at the emergency room because he got smacked by a car! From there, we went and road on the bike trail once again, stopping for a few moments for him to play at a playground that abuts the trail, before coming home. I'm not used to the biking after so many years that I was getting tuckered out, and eventually he too was getting tired in the legs, as he opted to walk the bike up a few hills not nearly as steep as the ones he had pedaled up before.

I've also spent a considerable amount of time just reading. Mostly on the subject of manhood, and how to be a more considerate, participating, and loving husband and father. I've come to realize that I've spent most of my adult life, more as a guy than an actual man. So, while its taken me some time to wake up from the me-centric self I have been, I'm working on improving that aspect of my life, so that I might be a better person all around as God intended for me to be. And to play my part as leader and scout and provisionary for my family that He also intended for me.

Right now I'm reading the book Tender Warrior by Stu Weber, a former Special Forces guy turned Pastor. Once I'm done with that I will be diving into Wild At Heart and its sequel by John Eldredge during my time of personal and spiritual development. Now I just have to learn how to loosen up some more around people in public instead of being the frumpy, keep-to-myself jackass I've turned into over the years.

That's really all I have to say at this point in time. So welcome to October I guess...

Changes

Changes in life are often gradual and only noticed by those closest to you, and to those who haven't seen or heard from you in years. For everyone else, everything is just what it is at the moment.

For me, I am in the process of changes to be made in my life, for better or worse has yet to be seen. Some are known changes to my readers, others are new and hold the potential for me to get an earful over it all from certain specific parties whom I have not consulted as of yet. Well, For those people, I guess this post is the notice they're being given, I'll probably have to start screening my calls to avoid certain conversations I don't want to have, as I'm pretty sure I know just how they'll play out.

When I was younger I always lived for the present to lead me to the future. As I got older, I found that most of my life has been consumed with work for the sake of paying bills. Nothing really goes on in my life, with the exception of those that surround me providing me with something interesting to talk about for the moment. All I have is this profound attachment to the past, and all my stories come from there and there alone. I'm sure some people have heard the same damn things come out of my mouth over and over and over again. Meanwhile life passes by like a long movie. Only I'm not in the movie, but merely one of the people who spent $15 on the ticket, $350 on the popcorn and the soda, and sit idly in a semi-comfortable seat alone in the theater watching everyone else play out their parts in the movie. I try to get involved in playing a part in the movie, but as soon as I get started I just stop. I don't know why, that's just the way it always seems to work out.

So, some of my changes.
1. Well, first off I killed my facebook page altogether. Without warning to anyone whatsoever. I just decided it was a big distraction and time waster. All I did was hold disjointed conversations on other people's comments or on photos, and the occasional game. As I have thought about it, I realized that my application of facebook is essentially useless at this time. So it's dead now. I realize I once wrote a post about people killing off their facebook is just the first step before they end up killing themselves. I can assure you this is not the case. Believe me, I'm just too damn stubborn to die. I have too much of a juvenile and perverted joy in irritating people by merely existing as an incorrigible ass.


2. As some of you know that I've been on again/off again on writing books. I think I'm about 85% of the way there on one, as far as my writing it goes. On the other, its been stop and start, as I keep re-editing as I go along the confusing world of politics and how I see the world and how I think the world should be. Both however have in common with each other the fact that I have taken way too long to write short books, when I see authors churning out sometimes as many as 2 and 3 books within half that time period. It leaves me in awe, and makes me wonder if I have what it takes to even put one out. Nevertheless I intend to see these two books through to completion by the end of the year, and then I have to figure out the process of how to get them published and maybe make a few bucks.

3. Simultaneously, I have another mission to occupy my time besides reading and writing. I have dental work that needs to be done. However, it being me, my dental work is never simple and relatively inexpensive. With my current insurance coverage, I still need to come up with about $850 or so to cover the costs. My paychecks currently don't allow for this extra money to come along in any timely fashion. So I have done some job searching. During the day I am confined to how far I can walk, which limits the availability of places to be employed. As of yesterday I was given a bicycle by a guy who is probably a much better friend to me than I have or could be to him. He seems to give me and my family things, even though I have nothing I see of any value to offer him in return. To be honest I don't even know why I was chosen by him as a friend in the first place. Either way, the bicycle will allow me to stretch out my boundaries as to where I can go for a part time day job to supplement my full time overnight job. I am only looking for something temporary so that I might use that income to take care of my teeth situation, which will allow me to take care of the bigger mission in my life...

4. Military service. I was officially released from the military after 2 1/2 years of service. Due to unforeseen medical issues, I fell short of my initial contract by a good 3 1/2 years. That has always bothered me. And because my current dental issues arose since I have left the service, it is something I must take care of before being allowed to sign up again. In my eyes, the sooner the better. At this rate it's looking like next spring, but we'll see if it doesn't happen quicker. I look at it like this. By re-signing up, I can complete something in my life that had always been my goal growing up, and maybe in the process recover a bit of the confidence I seem to have lost over the years. I know, some weird psychobabble stuff, but something that I think may actually be true in that realm, concerning me anyways. I would've joined years back, but I essentially used my family as an excuse, that I had to stay and take care of them, working away at some meaningless job with crap pay just to pay some bills, maybe knock down some ill-gotten debt, and put food in their bellies and a roof over their head.
My plans are to go back to the part time duty with the National Guard, pick a job that will allow me to serve at the camp up the road from me here in the Des Moines area when drill time comes along. It is also my desire to go through the entirety of boot camp, and be on a standby volunteer list for deployment as soon as possible after graduating from AIT. A lot of units here in Iowa are currently deploying, or preparing for their deployment to Afghanistan right now. So most likely, I'd have to request a temporary assignment with a unit out of state to accomplish this, but those are my intentions. It's not that I'm some kind of war junkie or anything. I've never experienced a real war, and so my desire is two-fold. One is to quickly dissolve any false romanticisms of war that resides in the minds of many young American boys before they get there and realize that long standing axiom, 'War is hell.' The second part of it is, that I might replace someone else who has already done more than their fair share of tours, and actually protect the necks of those that have been braver than I. If and when I come back from that scenario, hopefully I will be more of the man I'm supposed to be.

5. To be a better father and husband. While I work myself into total apathy providing for the most meager of family needs and little else, I find that I have continually and steadily disengaged from my family. Occasionally there are moments where we do things as a family, or my wife and I do things as a couple. Most often though, family activities consists of what my wife and kids do while I'm either working or sleeping. My kids lives are playing out like that movie I made reference to earlier. My days and weeks seem long, yet the years go by so fast I can barely keep up. My kids will still wrestle with me once in awhile, or follow me to the park or on a walk in some blind allegiance, merely because I'm their dad. I hear a lot more though about me being mean, or mad dad, mostly because my interactions with them seem to be geared more towards telling them they can't do this or that activity, or to stop whatever loud activity or bickering is going on. I also know that slowly my wife has been changing over the years while I'm just the lump in the bed that needs fed occasionally before he goes to work. I don't understand much about her anymore, I let a lot of my efforts sluff off into the abyss. I spend more time examining bank balances, paycheck stubs and bills, along with time trying to forget about them for a few hours while online or watching the idiot box across the living room, maybe concentrating my thoughts on my actual work to avoid any real issues. I used to be my wife's best friend. I know now that I am not at this point. And unfortunately for the lazy-natured Mook, only I can fix that, as much as I'd like an easier route of outsourcing that task. It will take massive amounts of effort to develop my ability to communicate verbally and with multi syllabic words and complete sentences, as well as open up some form of emotion that can be expressed. I know it will take some time before I can make my wife see that maybe I am worthy to be her best friend again, and that we can share a love that we once had when we were just kids. But again, only time will tell on that case.

So yeah, I have a full plate and no idea which course to partake of first, next, and on down the line to the dessert. Having been essentially the living dead for the past few years, floating aimlessly along, the task of being emotionally and actively pursuant in life is not exactly what you would call underwhelming. I can only ask that you wish me luck in my endeavors to go from being nobody special to someone who can be acknowledged as an actual living breathing person.

10 Years Later....

Really Beautiful Wife, Or 12th Russian Spy Confirmed

Ten years ago today was the day my status went up in this world. I married my wife, which infinitely improved my life. On a facebook post I made earlier today to the same effect, she commented that it was the second semi-public sweet thing I've done/said within the last week. To be honest I'm not sure I remember what the first one was, but I wasn't about to ask her right then. She'll read this and then inform me of whatever it was, maybe. In the same breath/typing she wondered if I had been dropped on my head or something recently. I've informed her that she has the rest of her life to be confused about when I've fallen on my cranium and when I'm just being her usual suspect.

While she was preparing for work, our youngest was messing with her hat on the couch. The same hat on her head in this picture, and the same hat I blogged about previously in which I have identified it as her "commie hat". She told me to quit calling it that, when I identified it as such to Corwyn. I stated as matter-of-factly as usual that I call it that because that's what it is. I mean c'mon! Look at it! Standard Communist Revolutionary Headgear! I've seen footage from Cuba, and other central and South American communist revolutionary periods in which this very kind of hat was quite prominently worn by those who felt oppression of the masses, in the name of the masses was far better than a more possibly freedom-inducing environment. I also mentioned that I may have found an undiscovered 12th member of the Russian spy ring, recently uncovered by the FBI.

Her Response? "Why do you say that? Am I THAT hot?" Now to the untrained eye, this merely seems like a woman baiting a guy for a compliment. But for a professional Rent-A-Cop like myself, this was a veiled confession. I responded with some random psychobabble to avoid her catching on that I knew about her secret identity. And then I took this picture. She asked why. I said I might need it for a blog. She was rightly suspicious of me and my blogging intentions. However, she had to go to work, and didn't have time to delete the picture hastily, in order to keep from having her cover blown. Well, it's too late, and right here, in front of the world (or at least my 8 or 9 readers), I am shedding the light on more undercover spy agents in our midst! The media made light of the attractiveness of one of the Russian spies, but my wife is likely to make that one look like a big pile of dog mess in comparison.

I find myself confused at this moment. I am feeling inordinately patriotic having uncovered this plot against not only my country, but the Mookified compound itself. At the same time, I don't know how I missed it. She has no accent and speaks absolutely zero Russian as far as I can tell. She clearly was deep undercover. She convinced her mother that she came from her, and has blended in with family very nicely. Almost as if, she had been one of them since birth. Brainwashing must have occurred at a highly secret Soviet-era facility to unknowingly bring her whole family into the fold. Then in a move that could only be conjured up by remnants of the KGB, she infiltrated my life, made me fall in love with her, marry her and have two sons with her. She speaks as though down home conservative hate mongering is her native language, yet she pretends to detest talk radio.

However, her espionatic (I'm pretty sure I made that word up, but please feel free to use it openly and spread it around) ways were not enough to keep her subconscious need for comrade wear buried away forever. And she doesn't mind vodka on occasion. Maybe that was the giveaway. In my America-loving opinion, only hard core alcoholics (which my wife is not) and commies (I'm beginning to question things here)can really and truly enjoy a nasty concoction made from potatoes such as Vodka! BLECH!

Now I have read reports that the other 11 haven't been charged or suspected of any real espionage. However, the possible finding of the 12th Commie (not to be confused with the 12th Imam), squarely embedded within the Mookist Compound? Clearly the idea that high-level espionage has been occurring has to be considered. After all, with all the wealth of knowledge and power that resides with the Mook and his trusty sidekick, Colonel B.S. Lovell, mining the information that lies within these walls and turning it over to Russia could be detrimental not only to the General and his people, but to the world at large! You think the worldwide economic meltdown was horrendous, or the BP gulf oil spill insanely dangerous? Just wait and see what happens if my wife gets away with this.

I just remembered something vitally important. She'll read this before coming home. By the time you read this I may be dead, from her dispatching a secret assassination squad, or be transported to a secret gulag somewhere in the remote regions of Siberia. Not only then will Russia keep her secret safe, but the anti-Mookist forces out there will gain an even stronger foothold, which is equally bad, if not worse.

Of course, despite all that, I'll still technically be able to lay claim to having a really hot wife!

For 5 Years Running, I'm a Dork

My wife has had fun at my expense on many occasions. I'm sure I'm not the only husband to be the target of shenanigans by their spouse, but my wife has seemed to have made an art form out of this. And sadly, I play into it every single year.

I opened up my facebook account yesterday while my wife was at the office taking care of some urgnet matter or another and I read this following statement she left on my page: "DORK. yes, i mean you"

Naturally, I have to directly question what this is all about. Granted, I realize that at any given moment I could be any number of things: dork, idiot, moron, smart-aleck, Einstein, etc., etc. A friend of ours who also has facebook simply added the comment under my question stating the obvious: "She is calling you a DORK!" Well, gee, really? I hadn't noticed that yet, Mac! I'm a lot of things, but I can still comprehend the english language. I get that she's calling me a dork, I'm just wondering why now? Why on a saturday, on my day off, where I'm sanely sitting at home in the air-conditioning watching one of my movies, while she's busy at the office on her day off, without additional pay, why am I the dork?

So later on I call my wife to see how much longer she's going to be working, since she expected it to be a couple hours, and we were going into hour #4. I also asked why I was a dork this time. She merely laughed and said she'd show me when she got home. Well, I'm not big on surprises, nor patience. My wife, however, is at least as stubborn as I am, and I have learned over the eyars that no matter how much I want to know whatever RIGHT NOW, I won't learn of it until she decides to impart the knowledge to me.

So she gets home, and I almost immediately ask what the "dork" comment is about. She begins her little chuckling while grinning thing she likes to do when she knows she has pulled the wool over my eyes (sadly, this happens alot). She looks at me, still smiling that devilish grin and says to me, "You fell for it again! Every year you ask why I say that."

Suddenly memory kicks in and I remember she has done this randomly at some point in the year for the last 5 years. It might be on facebook, it might be in a random email, she may say it on the phone, or when one of us is on the way out the door to work or where ever. She says it, just to get me paranoid and ask why she's calling me a dork.

I told her that she will not get me next time. That I will remember this so that next time she tries it, I will just not acknowledge it. She then reminds me I said the same thing last year..and the year before. I think she has Pavlov's Dogged me. I have become a social experiment in a literally dorky kind of way.

It may happen in January, or March or December of next year. But she will attempt it again, it's all completely random. Hopefully dementia will not again overtake me and erase this from my memory. She just walked up behind me and read this, and walked away giggling...I think I'm gonna have to beat her once I'm done writing this! Check local hospital listings for my name to see how that ends.

MARK MY WORDS! I will remember this time around. Five years of falling for the same damn joke is kind of embarassing for a guy like me. I favor myself the kind of person who doesn't get duped by anything or anyone. Although my track record here is not exactly edifying me in that respect.

If I fall for this one again next year, I may as well just reprint this with 6 in place of 5, and expect a whole host of laughter in the comment section. Yesterday was a sad day for the Mook, succumbing to the fact that while the man may be the head of the hosuehold, clearly my wife is the neck that turns the proverbial head. Kind of irritating to my unwilling to learn ego.

A Nice Getaway For 2

This last weekend my wife and I took a little time for ourselves. A very gracious friend picked the boys up from the school bus on Friday afternoon and had them until they left for school the following Monday morning.

After I arrived home from work Friday morning, we loaded the car up with our luggage and hit the road for Branson, Missouri. After 7 1/2 hours of on again-off again rain and construction we finally arrived.

We checked in at a resort sales center, who had offered me a 4 day/3night stay at a local hotel for a mere $130 (plus hotel taxes which amounted to an additional $13) all in exchange for going through a 90-minute presentation on the joyous wonders of being a time-share owner. And to boot they threw in 4 tickets to local touristy attractions that Branson is so famous for. I figured 90 minutes wasn't too much to ask to get a weekend alone with my wife and no kids. We had never taken a honeymoon, and we both needed an opportunity to relax from normal everyday life as well as a chance to reconnect with each other since we cross paths more than we live together.

So after we checked in and got all the information we would need for the hotel and the next day's sales presentation, we checked into our room, unpacked, and decided to look about the town for a bit. My wife had never eaten at a Fuddruckers before, so we had an early supper there, purchased a nice little ring for my wife at a jewelry store next door, and then went back to the hotel for the evening.

The next day, Saturday, was breakfast at Denny's. For those of you who don't know me and my past, I have a reputation about eating at Denny's restaurants. Look honey, It's Denny's! Can we go eat here, please? When I was young there was an incident somewhere out west when I embarrassed my mother by pointing out the human equivalent to the Stay-Puft Marshmallow man sitting on a pretty tiny chair. When I was 16 and ran away to the Twin cities, I made a suburban Denny's my little home away from home. When my buddy Jay got married a few years back, I got into town at 3:30am, about 3 1/2 hrs early for the wedding. I went to the Denny's and enjoyed some pie, coffee, and a long conversation with the loan overnight waiter.

Apparently the omelet has hypnotized me

Since then, I have been given a listing of at least one Denny's in every state except Wyoming. I think Wyoming people must be Denny's haters. You'd think they would at least have one, but alas they do not. So it has been my goal to have photographic evidence of myself at every Denny's I eat at from that point forward. I got a long ways to go to hit them all, but I can get there a lot quicker if Denny's would just pony up and sponsor a long road trip to eat at all their locations and write up reviews or something in exchange for it all. So if any of you know a Denny's executive, maybe you can whisper this great idea into their ear?

After that we visited the Ripley's Believe It Or Not center. A lot of interesting things to be found there. My favorite part however was near the beginning they have this exhibit talking about genetically inclined abilities about folding, rolling and curling your tongue. And they have a nice mirror there so you can try to see if you have the correct genes to perform these tasks. I did not attempt these things, and wasn't overly impressed. The thing that was impressive to me about this particular exhibit was later on, when you found yourself on the exact opposite side of that mirror. Only from the backside it was a window. Many brave people started making funny faces in the mirror while manipulating their tongues. Both my wife and I got a good laugh out of watching these people unknowingly make fools of themselves to our delight.

Anyways, so we go to our 1pm appointment, go through the presentation and tour of timeshare ownership, collect our show tickets and go on our way. We went to a local Italian restaurant named Floretina's. Very nice place to eat and not as expensive as it looked. All the food came in the exact right amounts that I wasn't going to leave either hungry or overstuffed. I actually dressed up for this meal, as did my wife. She recently made herself a VERY nice blue dress. And trust me when I say this: She looked stunningly gorgeous. So gorgeous in fact that even though one of the waiters had to wait on the hostess to find us a seat made sure to give her a look over and talk with her the very second we walked into the place. He was not our waiter, but our waiter also stole a glance at her, as well as a few other male patrons. Lucky for me we were already married, otherwise I might have found myself with stiff competition to keep her as my date that evening. You will notice there is no picture of her in full length with that dress. One reason is because I suck at operating her camera, the other is because that is a vision for me. If you really want to see it, you better be lucky enough to grace us with your presence personally on a night she decides to wear it.

At the hotel before dinner

After dinner, we went down to Branson Landing. This is a trendy shopping district along the White River/Lake Taneycomo. It used to be a river, but after some damming up somehow they gave it lake status despite its more stream-like quality. We took a ride on a moonlight cocktail cruise on one of those old paddle wheel river boats. It was a nice time, albeit a bit chilly. We spent about an hour or so on the boat with the final attraction was the fountain and light show. The water fountain they had built cost a few million bucks and was designed by the same guys who did the great fountain at the Bellagio in Las Vegas. This one, in addition to the coordinated fountain stream works featured pillars that emitted fireballs choreographed into the show.
This is how I look while concentrating on working her camera. I had already turned it off once, and switched it over to view pictures once before getting it to actually take a photo. I R intel a jent!
Now she takes the picture instead...much better, and on the first try!

Dani enjoying her Pina Colada on the upper deck during our cruise. Now, quit oggling my wife and continue reading!
On Sunday, we checked out the Hollywood Wax Museum. I was really not impressed with this place. The building was a big skyscraper rendition, with King Kong atop the tower. My wife got a few pictures of this, along with a shot of the big ape's butt, and later one of me appearing to pinch the ape's butt. For the record this was not my idea, but hers. I just decided to oblige since my "special" behaviors are often not exposed to her on purpose. She gets a kick out of me acting like a retard (for those of you offended by the use of the word 'retard'...get over it).
She thought it hilarious to get a picture of me pinching King Kong's butt. As you can see, even the thought of buttplay with an artificial monkey humors me! Inside we saw a variety of movie stars in wax form. While a few looked pretty close, most of them were horribly, and I mean horribly, not anywhere near the likeness of the person they were trying to portray. It's pretty bad when you have to read the little signage with a description of the person and what TV or movie the portrayal was from to know who you are looking at.

After that we went to the historic downtown district, got a couple small gifts. A wallet for my oldest son since he lost his a long time ago, and a t-shirt for the youngest. We also picked up a gift for our friend who watched over the boys for the weekend. Then, after wandering around for a little while, we took a short ride in a horse drawn carriage. I saw Dani look over and get a look on her face that said she wanted to do that while we were on our way elsewhere and someone else was getting in to take a ride. I asked her if she wanted to do that when we came back around. She of course tried to play if off, trying to use me as an excuse saying I wasn't interested in that kind of thing. Of course in reality I had seen it the night before and had been thinking about it. So she got her wish and we took a carriage ride around the downtown area.

After that we hit the hotel pool for a little bit, took a walk, and finished the night with dinner at another hotel. The next morning came way too early. We packed up, checked out and hit the road to come back home to 'real life'. 8 hours on the road, a short time home, and back to work for me that night, and the next morning for her. I had a lot of fun getting away with my wife for a weekend, with no real cares or worries. Just leaving everything behind and existing in the moment with each other was great, and basically allowed us to fall in love with each other all over again. I think that it also caused us to prioritize the important things in life and how we were going to make sure we could live life together as a family rather than just being legally attached and running the hamster wheel of normal everyday boring lives.

I Am The Last Stand

"If we lose freedom here, there is no place to escape to. This is the last stand on Earth." --Ronald Reagan

Okay, full disclosure here, I am not talking political and economical ideologies here. What I am talking about is the freedom to avoid people and the encroachment upon my life made by advancing technology in the communication industry.

Everyone around me has a cell phone these days. I remember when I first saw cell phones. One kid, Tim, had a bag phone for his car, which we all rode in to go to work. Cell phones those days looked more like the kind of phone the Army used to call in air strikes. Today they come in all manners of shape and size. They also have more functions than ever. You can talk, take photos, video, or you can text people. With the standard phone buttons or a fold out complete keyboard. You can type out your texts with individual characters or use the T9 technology that will predict your words and help you get through a message even faster. That is unless you're me, I am hopelessly useless with the T9 functions when I borrowed my wife's cell phone once to go to a niece's 6th grade basketball tourney. And the only reason I borrowed it was so that I could check in that I made it there, and for when I was coming back, depending on how the tourney went.

I am constantly asked to text someone, or just give them a call when I get to where ever it is we are hanging out, or when I get to their house to let them know I'm there to pick them up. I have to inform them that sorry, I don't have a cell phone!

I get some pretty weird looks. They are incredulous that I don't own the new iPhone or Blackberry cell phones. They ask how I can possibly live without a cell phone. I tell them essentially to quit projecting their way of life onto me. I was born before cell phones, I never had one attached to me surgically once they did come out, and I will probably most likely NEVER own one. I can live without one, because I lived half my life without them even existing. I put a caveat on that never, because I'm sure at some point someone will get it in their head to ban landlines altogether through government pressure. In which case I suppose I will then own a cell phone. However, I can guarantee that if this happens, my cellphone will stay in the same spot my current home phone's base is located.

I carry a cell phone for work. It is part of the equipment that goes with my little rentacop route. I pass it on to the guy who relieves me, who passes it on to the next guy, who will pass it back to me when I come back on duty. Other than that, I am generally at home. I have a home phone to be reached by, so I have no need for a cell phone. If I am not at work or at home, chances are likely that I am doing something I enjoy, and wish not to be contacted by anyone that isn't physically present with me. Some people just can't understand this. People I hang out with will keep checking their phone in the midst of conversations for new texts, missed calls, etc. Now I don't mind that they do this. After all, ask my wife, I'm not the best conversationalist in the world, so its not like I feel slighted that they are not interested in an already not-so-deep conversation to begin with. Writing is my better form of communication. Although with some people I may have to learn how to write in a texting form of language in order to hold their attention long enough for them to get the point I may be trying to make. But at the same time they have become slaves to this technology, and that I abhor. The whole point of the things were to be a tool of convenience, not a ruler of your life. You use the phone to dictate and communicate. Instead, it seems the phone and other gadgets now dictate their lives for them. Even by their own admission to be feel the need to be left alone, or that they are addicted, cellphone users just can't shut the thing off or leave it at home. They even have SCIENTIFIC STUDIES that show the addictive capabilities of these devices. And the people wonder why they can't get a private moment in their lives without worry that so-and-so is going to call or text them at any moment.

Now I know you're probably wondering what the hell my point is with all this rambling. Well it is this. I TRULY am the last stand when it comes to not having a cellphone to interfere with my life. Especially in my family. My sister has one, her hubby does too. My wife and all her siblings and parents have cell phones. The only reason my kids don't have cell phones is that I'm not paying for them, and they aren't old enough to have a job to support their own cell phone ownership.

Then there is me without a cell phone, along with my parents. But that all ended this last weekend. I received a call from my mom, who informed me that she had accompanied the Evil Duane (of the Branch Duanians of Sac City) downtown and bought themselves a phone for each of them, ad to give me their new cell numbers. I thought I had allies in my anti-technology fight. Yes I realize I'm saying I'm anti-technology while maintaining a blog site on a computer, an old Myspace account, and a Facebook page. The latter two things I once said I'd never do, and I broke down and added myself to the millions of mind numbing activities provided by a social networking site. In my defense, this was the only way to keep track of some friends. A cell phone is still not necessary to this mission, and if they provide me with an ultimatum that they will only communicate by texting from here on out, then I shall issue them my resignation from the relationship on a grounds of irreconcilable differences of conditional relationship status.

Things may not be going commie around here, but I see everyone throwing their hat in the ring in order to get the newest gadget, make themselves more trackable and susceptible to identity theft and surveillance by those who fly the silent black helicopters. Don't deny the conspiracy, we all know they do it. Ultimately its all part of a much larger conspiracy to use the world's population to get to me. Luckily I am hiding out in my super-ultra-secret underground bunker located at...oh wait, never mind. No one can find me here. The Mookified State is in full control.

My parents getting cell phones only reinforces my position that I was key to the strength of the Branch Duanian organization. However, having branched out on my own and running the Mookified Compound along with my trusty executive officer, Colonel Beauregard Sterling Lovell, the power and ultimate autonomy of the Branch Duanians faded, leaving me as the last stand. The Rebel Alliance is no more, as it is just I now, and no others to help in the fight against all that is evil, such as Big Cell Phone, and other technology demons like Apple!

I'm Fat AND a Stupid Monkey

Buggy stayed home from school the other day as he was not feeling well. After work, my wife comes home, and in the process of conversation somehow the word short is brought up. I don't remember what exactly was said, but it seemed to be a shot from my wife at both Buggy and myself. So I looked the kid dead in the eye as he was in his mother's arms and said, "you hear that, Bug, you're short!"

Without even missing a beat he shoots right back, very matter-of-factly, "You're fat." The boy has a very dry sense of humor, and of course once a thought hits his brain, it generally comes right out his mouth. And to be honest, as dry and easily as it came out of his mouth, I'm not sure if this was his idea of a joke, or just a debative form of us shooting derogatory facts at each other. Either way, I was temporarily shut up, and of course his mother couldn't help herself and busted out laughing hysterically. Apparently she is amused by the fact that my boys are smart enough and bold enough to go toe-to-toe with their father. And apparently having missed school due to a stomach ache was enough for him to be feeling much better.

Generally I have a talent for sarcasm and a biting wit that usually keeps people in check around me. I have in the past used this very effectively against my wife. Yes, I am aware that this is not the best way to go about building a relationship, but it appears she is getting the last laugh via our offspring. It appears that the same gene that has allowed me to fake my way to a superior position has been passed on. I'm going to have to maintain my alliance with the Colonel to keep these kids in check and from usurping my power over the Mookified compound.

So yes, I am officially fat for sure now.

Last weekend the boys and I are wrestling around, like we do. Josh has once again wildly thrust himself in the unenviable position of being chicken-winged by me. Sooner or later we are going to have to get him to learn to focus. Too much of this power ranger/mutant ninja turtle flying around business has done in his ability to fight me effectively. Well, while I'm holding him at bay, Bug climbs onto the couch and prepares to challenge me while I have one arm occupied with holding his brother down. But he makes the mistake of leaving his arms at his side, laughing and announcing that he is about to make the leap from the couch and come choke me out. So I give him a little fatherly open-handed love tap on the cheek.

Incredulous he looks at me and exclaims, "You just slapped me like a stupid monkey!" and continues laughing his head off as he prepares to remount his attack. It took me two days to realize that I slap him like a stupid monkey does, in his mind. I thought I had slapped him, as he is a stupid monkey. But nooooo, turns out not only am I fat, I am also a stupid monkey. And this is currently his phrase of the week I guess. I called home early this morning to say hello to the boys before they left for school. After Buggy handed the phone to Josh, I hear "OW. You slapped me like a stupid monkey!" come over the phone from Buggy's mouth. I have a feeling "Stupid monkey" will be a key part of his vocabulary until he finds something new to entertain himself.

Yesterday I hit the RedBox and rented the movie Law-Abiding Citizen. It was an excellent movie. One of the Stars is played by actor Gerard Butler, the same guy who played King Leonidas in the hit movie 300. There is a scene in both of these movies where you end up seeing Butler naked as a jaybird from behind, showing off his butt. Well, I got up to get ready for work last night and my wife is watching the movie. Just as I walk in, that scene is on the TV. I made casual mention that I think Gerard Butler gets paid a good chunk of change specifically for showing off his rear end. And so my wife replies, a little too quickly I might add, "Yeah, and its a really nice butt!"

Nothing else to say to me, just enough words to let me know that Gerard Butler has a better ass than mine.

So I guess the moral of this story is that I need to start working out to sculpt my butt to look more like Butler's and maybe get a more enthusiastic response to its form; and to trim down the obvious fatness I have going on. And then, when time and money permits, I need either plastic surgery to correct my monkey-like physical features, or mental health treatment to get out of a monkey-like mindset.

Either way, I have a lot of work ahead of me!

Quantum Theory Has The Cubs Winning the World Series

Now, maybe I don't have a firm grasp on everything there is to know in this universe of ours. I know what you're thinking. Mookie DOESN'T know everything? Yes, hard t believe but true. And part of that reason is any subject that began with the word "quantum" generally sent me into my own little world to ignore a subject that more theory than possibly conflicting facts.

I now believe in Quantum something or another Theory. I have decided, after working last night, that somewhere in an alternate universe, the Chicago Cubs did in fact win the Wolrd Series. How do I know this. Because Hell Has Frozen Over in Iowa!

Not only did we get more snow in one storm system than we have had since 1996, (we had 16 inches dumped on us), but the temperatures dropped into single digits with windchills WAY below zero. The wind was gusting between 45 and 60 miles per hour, creating white out conditions. And not just regular white out like you use on paper, and can see the mistake...this was Super White Out. It erased the front end of my patrol car from visibility altogether. Recently plowed roads were re-covered by a big blanket of white blown back ontot he roadway by the highg winds...most multilane roads had one driveable path, and if it was a two way road....well let's just say that thanks to a big tractor looking snowplow who refused to hold up until I could get around a big drift that erased part of the road, I became stuck...100 feet from the building my work is located in, and 400 feet from the building that I was responding to an alarm at. Naturally noone was available to help a rentacop out. so, I ran (and by run I mean in slowmo as I bounded through drift after drift like some sort of sled dog with only 2 legs) to the shop grabbed a shovel and proceeded to scoop my patrol car free. In the process I could barely see the car I was scooping free, and simultaneously trying to remain in position to do the job as th wind tried to blow my butt across the road. My already cold legs that had been exposed to lots of snow from earlier events, were now being windburned THROUGH my pants. Already exposed to moisture and frozen half solid, this was not good. I'm pretty sure I died from exposure...twice.

To back up a bit....I got up in plenty of time to go to work, but i spent ten minutes getting unstuck from my parking spot here at home. I make it to the shop..well the south entrance to the parking lot, and spend 20 minutes digging my way out of that with an ice scraper of all things. I go to the north entry, get stuck there, and it was an hour after I originally got on scene before my car was rescued and allowed to be parked in the lot behind our work garage. I braved the treacherous roads, and was forced to do more drive-by checks than actual lot patrols at many of my accounts as there was NO way to access the property without getting stuck again, and I'll be damned if they pay me enough to bound through nut-high snow drifts in single digit temperatures just to walk around a building while I risk my patrol car getting bashed up or buried by the DOT snow plows going up and down the mai roads in fruitless efforts to keep them open even a little bit.

I made a few extra efforts to make a more complete job at properties, btu most of it was simply driving the roads around them and making sure there was nothing visibly wrong with the places. Then at about 4am, I get a call to go to a residential house buried deep in the heart of residential development and about 6 or 7 blocks from any main road. I made it down the side street that intersected the street I was looking for. Then I humped it the 75 yards through snow and high winds blasting my face just to walk around a house that has been drifted shut, and showed no signs of entry. the alarm were interior motion alarms, no perimeters. I leave, I manage to get back to the main road and on my way....20 minutes later, I get teh call for the same place, same alarm. The homeowner is in Denver, and insists we re-check the place. All I have to say is the only way someone was going to burgle that house was to come up from underground and drill through the slab underneath. So back I go down the side road that hasn't seen a plow in probably 8 hours or more, hike through the snow to their house where I could hike through more snow and find out that there still was nothing wrong with their place. I told the alarm dispatch compnay representative that the resident owes me a christmas present for that kind of service...with a tow ban in effect, had I gotten stuck down in that neighborhood, well, lets just say it would be tomorrow or the next day before they would be allowed to come rescue me.

After that all was well...for awhile. I ate breakfast INSIDE the Mcdonald's where they had a cleared out parking lot. I needed to warm up and relax for a bit. Then I got called for 2 different alarms.....on the way to the second one was when I got stuck, as described above, by the shop. Then, my relief got his personal car stuck outside his driveway. I had to go pick him up. I got the patrol car stuck around the corner and a half block down from his place....more shoveling. I will be the first guy who dies of a hernia and a heart attack at the age of 30, along with hypothermia and some frostbite. This is honestly what I was thinking during this shoveling incident. But, we got out, got him to work. I shoveled my personal car out of its spot behind the shop so I could come home. I get on the road out to the main artery, where I got stuck again in the plow slushed mess. I used my cold wet booted feet as the shovel to kick everything out of the way, so my little car could actually get moving. Didn't matter at that point, I was ready to amputate with or without anesthesia anytime. My feet felt like blocks of ice, or frozen clubfoot.

The low fuel light was on. So I had to baby the car to the nearest accessible gas station. As I pull in, I see two guys stalking me. One with a camera, the other with a microphone. Having been, what I can assume was fully rested over the night while I worked, they came up and asked to interview me about my night and the weather.

You see, I really am that important. The local metro news needs MY opinion. However, I do have a face built for radio, and a voice for silent movies. I suspect any mention of me might be my name, and a recapping of my comments by the reporter with his pretty little made-for-tv face.

But now, it is time to warm my innards with coffee, and my feet somehow. In the army, they always taught us to put our cold hands either in our armpits or crotch to avoid frostbite and exposure issues, since those two areas are teh warmest on our bodies. I contemplated this with my feet, then realized I'm not that flexible to begin with, and there is no way that could be comfortable even if I did manage to cram my feet into my armpits or crotch like some advanced yoga pose.

I expect better working conditions tonight, or I just may quit. Should've listened to my wife and just stayed home from work last night. I blame my dad for instilling such a sense of responsibility in me...damn him anyways!

Glad I'm a Boy and other happenings

This morning I came home from work. In the midst of telling my wife about my evening, she suddenly interrupts with "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD"

While my work shift had some actual work involved, I didn't think it was so exciting that it would elicit such a strong and loud response. She was standing in front of the bathroom mirror doing what women do with their hair. I don't know about this kind of stuff. My involvement with my hair is cutting it back off as much as I can (also read: as short as my wife will allow it to get, apparently she isn't into the boot camp haircut on my head) Anyways....I thought, well maybe she burned herself with one of those hair tool thingys that women use. But no, that isn't the case. As I walk in to see her, she is examining a very lightly colored hair, it was pretty much white. I say pretty much, because it wasn't entirely white. It had SOME coloration to it. Now my wife wears vision correction devices. I on the other hand have better than 20/20 vision. So obviously I can see better than she can.

But she's freaking out about finding grey hairs on her head. She's 29. I met her when she was 17 when I met her. She had these ultra light colored hairs back then. I guess she never noticed them before. but she is completely focused on her having grey hairs. Apparently her mind can't get past what her eyes see. I attempt to explain to her that these are not "old lady" grey hairs, but merely the same kind of super light colored hairs she has always had. I've seen pictures of her when she was young and had hair that nearly qualified as albino in its coloration. While your hair may darken to a different hue over time, you never lose all your natural coloring, even the really light stuff. I know this, she SHOULD know this, but naturally being a woman, the first reaction is not to be logical and develop a clear sense of conclusions. Nope, its to freak out in some weird traumatic emotional overload.

And yes, I can get away with saying this, because my attempts to quell her emotional tide have already gotten her irritated with me...and being her boyfriend, fiancee, and husband for so many years, the hole I've dug for myself is so deep there is no hope of ever getting out of it. I'm currently constructing a state of the art nuclear proof bunker while I'm down here. I have already offered the rational, well thought out, and sensible conclusion as to what the hair was, and all without a hint of emotion. Well, there was some emotion, but it was the immature giddy kind, as I used a higher pitched voice while mocking her initial spastic verbal reactions. But beyond that...completely sensible. God, I am sure glad I'm a boy and don't freak out over such small fry stuff. I now shall sit back and await a unified female backlash for this posting here in the blog as well as from the facebook community of female friends who will chastise me about my insensitivity, to which I say "Screw it!"

The Colonel May Need to be Demoted

After returning home from a weekend full of Thanksgiving festivities, my wife decided it was time to erect the Christmas Tree. Not a big deal in my eyes. The Colonel however had ideas of using it as a training opportunity. At some point a few days ago, he attacked the tree vigorously in an attempt to make it submit. My wife caught him in the act. With one of the fake branches the cat had managed to dislodge from its place, she whacked the Colonel. He ran off to hide.

That was 4 days ago. Now, I get the whole retreat to regroup after a vicious attack like that. I've done it before, and will probably do it again. But I always come back. The Colonel has, as of the last 2 months, become oddly affectionate, and will crawl up in our laps for some relaxation while being petted. However it is day 4, and every time she approaches, he runs off and hides. Clearly the Colonel has become a coward. The Mookified Army, including the Feline Division, is expected to act bravely and smartly in all situations and never fear an opponent, no matter how ruthless they may be. As the Commanding General of the Mookified Armed Forces, i take to the front of the charge, involving myself in all the glorious battles that ensue, as a true leader should. I smart at my wife, knowing full well that I may be awakened from sleep being victimized with a maneuver called "The Claw" ripping my abdominal muscles away from my body. It tickles and hurts all at the same time, and yet, I return with aggressive rhetoric and offensive strategies of pure genius. I also know that at any given confrontation my wife may tweak my highly sensitive and tiny little nipples as a response to these offensives. It hurts like no one's business. But, the campaign must continue, no matter how many injuries I receive or purple hearts I find pinned to my uniform. Because in the words of a highly touted rap artist, "I ain't scurred."

Today, the Colonel had to be coaxed to her so she could pet him and let him know she still loved him. He was more than just a little apprehensive about this meeting. Clearly though, the Colonel has demonstrated a propensity for cowardice when it comes to my wife. It was a disappointing and embarrassing moment for me, as his commanding officer to see this streak of yellow painted boldly down his back. He will have limited time to earn his right to retain rank, otherwise, I may have to demote the cat.

A Full Day

Yesterday (Wednesday) marked the beginning of my "weekend". I started it off with Laundry Duties, after getting home from work.

Note to readers of my previous blog- I did in fact do it right each and every time instead of wasting to money by running the washer and dryer without clothes in them like I did the other day.

After awhile, the nice albeit VERY humid day summoned me outside. After making it about 3 steps outside our apartment door, the gates of hell opened up, and I began sweating very profusely. So, the first stop was down to the local C-store to get some ice cream and gatorade. Having nearly succumbed to a heat stroke some years back, I wasn't about to push myself without some extra cooling and hydrating agents in my body.

Then it was off to the basketball court. I performed pretty well, but the heat caused us to take a break, and then we decided to play some football (YAY!).
Keep in mind, I am playing with kids half my age who are in really good shape and constantly active. On one of the first plays, a guy from the other team nearly runs a kickoff all the way for a touchdown. What he did not count on was a 30 year old experienced player of the old Neighborhood Football League to show the young kid what real footbal was all about. I did not tackle him, I did not trip him. I merely reached in over his shoulder and came down hard on the football and gently eased it right out behind him and into my other hand. Now the hard part came. I had the entire length of the field and 3 other guys to beat. Like the days of old, I ran with everything I had...1st man gone, 2nd man gone, but the third had the angle on me. Suddenly, as if I was 15 myself, I turned on the afterburners, and my short little legs propelled me as though I was the roadrunner leaving Wile E. Coyote. The tall, athletic boy with much longer legs, a size advantage and the angle to take me out, suddenly found himself staring into the trees looking for his jockstrap. That burst of speed, left him dumbfounded and totally surprised that an old man like me would blow past him like a hurricane. Only one problem....I had stepped out of bounds at one point, with the loosely defined sidelines I might add. But, not an issue.



After having used up enough energy for 2 days, I went into the quarterbacking mode, and made a quick strike to one of my teammates for a one play score. We battled back and forth for awhile, but eventually the heat and humidity got to us, and we decided it was time to hit the gatorade bottles, and the ice in the makeshift cooler (an empty Corona cardboard box), which I promptly dumped on my head. We hung out for awhile just chatting and enjoying the freedom of a summer afternoon.

Then, around 5:45pm it was time for me to go home. I figured I had better shower, or my wife wouldn't want to be too close to me at any point, and we had a date that night. The kids were away with family, so we wanted to take the rare opportunity to spend some time together that was just us. We went out to a nice little steak house, and then off to a park because she wanted to swing for a few minutes. After that, we went downtown for a bit, walking around enjoying our own time together. A little time overlooking the Des Moines River from a pedestrian bridge, followed by a stop at Nollen Plaza, to just sit under a tree on a bench and watch the water fountains that shot into an amphitheater-shaped shallow pool, with a divided waterfall as the backdrop.

Capital Square in Des Moines



Then we set out to get back to our car and back home, as the dark night approached. On the way I was stopped by some sort of vagrant man. He hit my wife and I up with a barrage of compliments...I have seen this routine before, and knew the money asking was coming. However this guy had a different approach than most.

"Hey man, I aint gonna lie to you," he said. " I'm not out of gas, I don't need anything to eat, I just wanna go over here to the Plaza Pantry for a beer."

Well, I am a sucker for honesty. So my good deed for the day ended up being me reaching into my pocket, grabbing a wad of cash and handing over. Then we were off to home.

OH. I almost forgot to tell you. My wife is a cheater. Not in the marital sense, mind you, but she's still a cheater. For years, she has kept Christmas presents for me, away from this house. I have an uncanny ability to guess what is inside any given wrapped present. In fact, to date, my sister is the only one with enough genius in her to fool me...and she did it twice. Well, my wife got tired of this, and no longer leaves any possibility of evidence for me to go to my super-awesome sleuthy (is this a word, or have I been overcome by the spirit of W?) ways. Well, last night, over dinner, Dani was mentioning how funny she thinks I am. She made the mention of the phrase "let me count the ways", so being a naturally sarcastic fool, I made her. She mentioned my ability to mirror speech patterns of whomever I am around and talking with. I already knew this one.

But then she mentioned how I talk in my sleep. I am convinced that I do not, but then again, being asleep, how would I know? So I asked her if she ever got any juicy information out of me. She replied yes. Anything that could get me in trouble? She said no. However, it was at that point that she made the mistake of letting me know that is the way she used to fnd out what I was planning for our anniversary 2 years ago.

We had come out of a particularly rough patch in our relationship prior to our 7th anniversary(we're staring down the barrel at #9 on July 1), so I wanted to do some special stuff. All planned out, spa day for her, followed by a very fancy restuarant that night, and then just some other random activities about town. And somehow, despite my secrecy from a LOT of people, and those who did know were sworn not only to the death, but to the very attachment to them of a certain set of body parts they held dear. (If you don't think I'm serious let me tell you a great plan of mine, and then betray me....you will live to regret it!)

So two years later, while she is able to withhold things against my abilities, I am stuck at her mercy with my great ideas. This irritates me. Not so much that she has been able to do this, but that there really isn't a defense against this. She caught me in a situation where her tool is using one of the natural tools of my survival against me, sleep. What else irritates me, is that her deceitful ways are truly awesome, and I can't help but be impressed. THAT is really irritating.