The Power of Music:

 

Good Morning Everybody!

I hope everyone is off to a good start this morning.  I hope your coffee was hot and strong and your mug was full.  Me?  Hell, any time I can wake up and wiggle my toes seems like a set up for a good day.  I'm not so sure how to get around the start of this entry.  Probably ought to just get to the heart of it and start with the title.

Music...  Not sure I know anyone who doesn't like music.  How can you not like music?  There has to be a genre out there for you that means something or the sound just hits you right.  There has to be.  Maybe you have a favorite artist or maybe there is just a type of music that once you heard it, it just grabbed you and never let go.

A buddy of mine is a fan of Chamber Music.  Orchestral type stuff.  Although I find some of it absolutely beautiful, you won't find any of that stuff on my play lists.  It's just not for me.  I can appreciate it, but enjoy?  Probably no.  Mind you, I'm not repulsed by it.

One of my kids loves Dub-Step.  I think that's what it's called.  Do you know what I am talking about?  Its that type of music that sounds like it smells bad...  It sounds like throwing a handful of used parts and broken tools into your clothes dryer and turning it on.  That shit, and he LOVES IT!  I don't get it.  I don't listen to it.  I won't say it bothers me though.  It's just not for me.

My other kid loves K-Pop.  Apparently this is Korean Pop Music.  How he found that is beyond me.  His mother was in the music industry for decades.  Not once did she ever play any of that.  I don't even know if she can identify it.  Doesn't matter.  Not my style and I am not pissed it exists.  Apparently the shit is somewhat popular.  Who knew?

My wife is a hippy.  She loves all music, but mostly hippy shit like Blues Traveler.  Again, not for me.  Too damn squeaky or something.  Sounds like everyone in the band is playing a different song.  But with that said, she really does like all music types.  Between she and I, we introduced our kids to everything we listened too and school music turned them onto stuff they probably never would have heard around the house.

I'm a different duck in this family.  I once told my wife while I was drinking that there "is only 19 good songs".  At the time, I had an IPOD with 19 songs on it and they were all good.  She never forgot that and holds me accountable for saying it.  Looking back, it does sound ridiculous.  There are probably, maybe like 50 good songs out there and the other shit I listen to is only kind of good.

My favorite music is Rock and Roll!  Country, Blues, some Motown stuff.  Even some rap, especially old school.  Something with some emotion.  Something that means something.

So, I reckon I said all of that in order to get to this.  I was listening to the radio this morning while running an errand for work.  I was listening to the local country station.  I contend that country music isn't what it used to be.  I like some of the 90's country from when I was at the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar.  There were a lot of good songs from that era.  And harmony... these guys knew something about harmony.  Back then, if you didn't have harmony, you didn't have shit.

Nowadays, I think all new country sounds the same.  It almost doesn't matter who is singing.  Male, female... doesn't matter.  They all sound the same and they are all saying the same shit.  But, there is a guy.  He ain't new.  He's been around for a while, at least long enough to somehow get famous.  Before I go any further I have to say that this "new guy/who ain't new" took a coveted position from whom I thought was the worst of the fucking worst.

Kenny Chesney...  I hated that guy.  The tone of his voice made me want to throw groceries at old people.  I just don't get the guy.  Not sure there is even anything to get.

But the guy I am talking about is Jason Aldean.  I would go on a world tour with Kenny Chesney rather than have to listen to one of Aldean's attempts.  I was in the bar business for nearly 20 years, and in that time I was fortunate enough to meet dozens if not hundreds of really talented people out there giving them hell and trying to make a name for themselves in the industry.  Some of these people had incredible voices.  Some were fantastic song writers.  Some musically were absolutely unreal!  And out of nowhere, this jackoff Aldean shows up and everyone goes wild.  What in the fuck am I not getting???

Imagine if you will, stepping into a porn theater and accidentally putting your hand in a random wet spot.  That is Jason Aldean.  He is the auditory equivalent of accidentally putting your hand in a pile of homeless, degenerate man milk.  He's gross.  He serves no purpose but whenever I hear him, I think about checking the oil in my Jeep.  

Here's the kicker.  So many of the newer guys sound just like him.  They just don't suck as bad.  Dumb ass drum machines... talking about "dirt roads" and not doing certain shit in "his town", cut off jeans and some bow legged ass girl with her feet on your dash.  

I mean, there ain't any fiddle.  Ain't no steel guitar.  No dobro. No harmony. Ain't even a touch of "twang"! None of that!  Anything that ever made country music good is not available in a Jason Aldean song.  It ain't there. 

His lyrics... holy shit.  His songs are written by the same feller that writes songs for that dude who looks like Butthead.  What's his name?  Big ass forehead, receding hair line.... Luke Bryan!  Even Luke Bryan is a stretch better than Aldean!

If a peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwich was made by a one eyed midget with a broken spork had a sound, it would be Jason Aldean. Jason Aldean is like ketchup on a perfectly cooked rib eye steak.  Gentlemen about my age, have you ever accidentally sat on one of your own balls?  The noise you make when you do is more melodic than Jason Aldean music.

I don't know.  Maybe he is a nice guy or something.  I don't want to shit on this guy, but I feel as if I have too.  To his fans, are you aware that there is other music out there?  I mean, you can go to any Motel 6 with a hot tub and find another soggy ass, puss crusted band aid floating around to try and listen to that.  

Have you ever had a colonoscopy?  Do you remember that first big ass fart you blew when you were coming out of anesthesia?  Pair that fart with a out of tune 3 string guitar and you just wrote an Aldean song.  

Like I said, maybe he's a nice guy.  I wouldn't know.  I don't want to know.  His music killed a part of me that I'll never get back.  This guy is a singing insurance seminar.  

If you like him, please don't tell me.  This is the one thing I cannot know about you.  I'll go as far as to say, liking his music is inexcusable.  If you want to hear something just as good, you can do that armpit fart thing.  At least that is almost amusing.

#399... the Grizzly Bear

 

I have to start off with an apology.  On social media the other day, I said I was going to make one last comment about the bear, what happened, and then put it away.  Unbeknownst to me, an anonymous "fan" called me a few unsavory things.  Not to worry, as I have been called worse things than this crayon using, bicycle seat sniffing, half a popcorn fart could ever come up with.  My feelings aren't hurt but I would like to rehash a few things on the subject.  So, I am sorry that I am at it again.  If anyone has any comments, I would love to address them in private.

Bear #399, a gri8zzly bear that lived most of its life within the friendly confines of Grand Teton National Park became "famous" as she habituated herself to humans.  The constant presence of humans around her allowed her (or them) to relax a little too much, if you ask me.  

What made this bear famous was her legacy.  She unfortunately died at the age of 28 years old, which is a pretty long time for a grizzly in the wild.  There are conflicting accounts of the amount of offspring she had but the numbers are between 18 and 22 according to a couple of different opinions.  She had many multiple births and one such multiple birth included 4 cubs!  Her last cub who was apparently with her at the time of her death had the pet name "Spirit".  Some wildlife managers said that the 1 year old cub stands a good chance of surviving.

Bear #399 made many trips outside of the park venturing many miles south with her cubs in tow, sometimes seen in the vicinity of where she was struck and killed by an automobile.  

Through the years, her popularity grew with the help of a few "famous" photographers, a few more wildlife guides and even a group named after her.  If you were in the park and saw a big group of people seemingly shooting pictures of the unknown with giant ass camera/lens combinations, all you had to do was pull over and ask the question, "What are you all looking at?"

So many times the answer was a resounding "#399 and her cubs".  The longer you stuck around, the better your chances were of seeing her.  By the time she was half famous, people from all over the nation or world for that matter were keen to this bear and her goings on.

Making her more popular were numerous articles, peoples first hand public accounts and even a few documentaries made about her existence.  People were coming to the park from everywhere, just for the opportunity to see her, just once.

Wildlife guides were especially keen to her whereabouts.  I cannot comment on the networking that went on within the competitive market of guiding, but if you saw one commercial outfit near this bear, you saw a dozen!  Every spring, these curious people did all they could to locate #399 and see how many cubs she came out of the den with after a long hibernation.  Then, they would spend the summer snapping photos (for sale) and chronicling this bears life.

It seems somewhat like a disservice to write a few paragraphs about a 28 year stretch.  Simply, this was one bear living amongst an estimated 965 other grizzlies in the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem.  Some of #399's offspring have become semi-famous as well.  These folks seem to know them.  They don't really, but they act like they do.  They will talk amongst themselves at one of the large gatherings mentioned above and sooner or later a Park Ranger or biologist will confirm which bear it is.

Photography and wildlife tourism is big money, folks.  BIG Money!  Taking tourists on trips to the park to see animals and the professional photographers selling their wares bring millions of dollars to the economies of Wyoming, Montana and Idaho.

As a reference, one of the more famous photographers in the region sells pictures of #399 ranging in price from $355-$895.... for a picture.... of a bear, that looks like every other sow grizzly in the ecosystem.  The kicker is, the name #399 and "her story' just makes these pictures that much more expensive.

Now, I guess I said all of that shit in order to get to this shit.  I feel differently about #399 or bears in general than the aforementioned individuals.  I was brought to up to respect all wildlife.  I was taught to witness from a distance, give plenty of room and not to mess with these wild animals.  The key word there was "wild".  These animals do not belong to a zoo.  They don't belong to anyone.  They, like you are just trying to squeak out a living in one of the harshest landscapes around.  

People have personified #399.  They made her a legend long before she passed, adding what would be considered positive human traits like "friendly" (If I'm not mistaken #399 jacked up a guy around Signal Mountain this summer), "loving mother" and other things equally irresponsible.  

These are animals that we are speaking about.  Bears only know how to be bears.  Bison only know how to be bison.  Neither could ever be human.  As this bear became more popular, there were specific businesses named after her.  I won't name them here in order to not find my big ass in court, but if you are from around here, you've seen them.  I think this is human behavior is dangerous and irresponsible.

Moving forward to the unfortunate accident that ended her life, I've seen comments like "This person should be jailed!"  "This person should be killed!"  'How could this happen in a National Park?"  There are dozens more but none more irresponsible than saying any human should die because of an animals death.  This thing was investigated by law enforcement.  It was found that the driver was driving the speed limit and there was no wrong doing...  That should be the end, but uneducated or otherwise ignorant people are still commenting on a subject that they really know nothing about, other than the bear's legacy and what lies between the veil of fantasy and reality.

We can do better.  I love animals.  I also hunt.  Nearly every one of the hunters I know do hunt ethically.  These people admire all wild animals.  They too were raised to admire from a distance, don't pester or molest wildlife and give them the room they deserve.  If you have a chance encounter with wildlife, remember those rules.  Be respectful and for the sake of all things, quit humanizing animals!  They are not our friends.  We don't know them but we do owe them a modicum of respect.  A bear or nearly any large animal you encounter in the Yellowstone ecosystem can delete you in an instant.  They don't care.  For them, its merely survival and far too often we find ourselves in their back yard.

I've had enough of your time.  If you're still with me here, thanks for reading.  I'll end with this.  I have watched this topic turn into a political conversation as well.  Yes, you heard me right.  Political and both sides have said some real stupid shit.  This in no stretch of the imagination should have included politics.  Politics is one thing and this is something different and should be viewed as such.  Trump couldn't have saved this bear and neither could Harris.  Walz might not know what a bear is, and Vance might have wanted to hump the fucking thing...  

More than 3,000 people a day use the Snake River Canyon where #399 was killed as their commute.  This does not include all of the commercial traffic and tourist traffic.  There are dozens of accidents in the canyon yearly.  A lot of them unfortunately include wildlife.  Bears, mountain lions, wolves, coyotes, beaver, badgers, marmots, ermine, skunks, martins, eagles, hawks, mountain goats, owls and more are hit and killed in that canyon and any of the other roads in the region!  Nobody knows their names.  It is an unfortunate and common thing to have happen in wildlife rich areas where humans also exist.  

Yes, there are plenty of shit drivers on the road but again, this accident was investigated and the driver found not guilty of any wrong doing.  I'm not going to pretend I know the individual that hit this bear, but imagine if it were you.  Imagine if you were the one on your nightly that accidentally hit and killed #399?  Imagine reading and hearing of all of the threats coming your way.  You've got to take emotions out of this.  There was no intent!  This person didn't drive off road and chase the bear down in order to kill it.  Me and my family have all hit animals in the canyon.  Each time it's cost us a lot of money, not to mention the fact that we killed another animal.

Be respectful of wild animals and be respectful to other people.  We are all we got, folks.  Something like this will eventually happen again, and I hope you aren't the person behind the wheel.  And if it does happen to you or you witness an accident like this, please have the wherewithal to know that this wasn't intentional.  Have a bit of compassion.  Offer to help.  

Like many other places in life, we can do better.   

What in the hell just happened to my Jeep?

 

How's everyone doing on this glorious Monday?  Hell, its chilly here but the sun in shining so if you are around these parts, get your ass outdoors and soak it up because the shit is going to hit the fan here real soon!  Remember, you don't have to shovel sunshine.  Let it soak in.

So anyhow, I started to write this last week.  I took my 2002 Jeep to a mechanic to have a bunch of shit done to it that I don't have the time or space to do the work myself.  Anything that leaked oil, they replaced the seals.  Other fluid leaks like the front differential and the power steering pump got some love as well and while they had half the damned thing tore apart, I asked them to change the front wheel bearings.

All in all, I spent a couple thousand bucks.  The old girl only has 153k on her.  My 2004 that I owned before this one I traded in when it had nearly 300k on it.  So yeah, it hurt a bit to part with that much dough, but I love this dumb Jeep and I think I can pull another 150k miles out of her.  We will see.

My Jeep isn't all customized.  Besides a couple inch lift, a winch and some bigger tires, I have done no modifications to it.  That's just not my style.  I am not going to Moab every weekend, but I do tend to put the old gal in some questionable predicaments.  

I've driven her to the top of rural dirt 2 tracks to the top of mountain passes.  I've bombed nearly every 2 track dirt road in the desert around here.  I've snatched small vehicles out of snowbanks with the winch.  I've gone mudding in her burying the poor thing over the tops of the wheels where even my winch couldn't pluck her out.  I've crossed streams, driven a few shitty washes in southern Nevada and ended up in California and or Arizona.  I've driven the worst logging roads in this part of Wyoming.  We did donuts with the kids in her.  Numerous fishing trips, a few hunting trips, a few more camping trips.  We were in that Jeep so often as a family that Buddha The Adventure Dog though he owned the son of a bitch!  Old boy had dog slobber all over the passenger door.  Big ass nose prints on the passenger window and nobody knows how many big ass dog farts erupted in the old girl.  It's a Jeep and this is what we do.  Tell me I can't get there from here is just another invitation for another adventure, and she's always been down for that.

Here's where the story takes a little turn.  I don't know if I can make it through this story without shedding a few tears.  If you are a Jeep guy, you probably ought to continue reading on your own in private and get the fucking tissues ready...

I go down to the mechanics shop in order for the 2 of us to be reunited.  The mechanic tells me the total damage and I hand him my card.  He runs the card, all is well and then tells me the keys are in it... just as I left it with him a few days prior.  I walk out to her... there she is in all of her glory, no longer leaking fluids and the front end tightened up a bit.  As per usual, she fires up on the first crank.  To me, this feels just like pulling on my favorite boots.  Just like the boots fit my feet, this Jeep fits me.  This is the best codependency in a relationship that ever existed.

I pull onto the highway and give her hell (as much as you can with a 4.0 liter straight 6) and she responds!  I pull into the liquor store to grab she and I a beer that we can share in the driveway as we listen to some AC/DC!  She's perfect!  We reminisce about all of the good times.  I swear, if I wasn't married to my wife, I'd marry my Jeep!

We get home and I am grinning from ear to ear.  The wife asks, "How's she run?".  "Better than ever, baby!  We've got to go put her through the paces somewhere we haven't been."  Truth be told, the wife loves that Jeep as much as I do and I know damn well she would marry the Jeep.  She gets far less shit out of the Jeep than she does me, so that would be a no brainer for her.

The next morning, I drove her to work.  Highway speeds the whole way with a little Black Label Society pumping through the shitty speakers and a hot cup of coffee in my hand.  I knew that this was going to be a good day!  Again, as per usual, the round trip of a 100 miles goes off without a hitch.  I get her home and marvel at her beauty.  I say to myself, "This is love..."

I can't remember why, but the wife wanted to borrow the Jeep the following day.  I let her because she is my wife and is also on the title.  I knew the wife would take good care of her.  When she came home that evening, I was busy in the yard doing chores.  I heard the stereo when they pulling in blasting some Blues Traveler or other obnoxious shit the Jeep doesn't like, but she was still moving, still looking pretty and doing her job as I expected she would.

"Man, she runs great" the wife exclaimed.  "You can tell they did some work on the front end too.  Maybe it was the new steering box they put in."  I just smiled as we were one big happy family again.  I helped the wife into the house with her bags and eventually fell into a peaceful slumber.  I woke up the next 3 mornings and drove the truck to work because its more comfortable.  But as we pulled out, I looked at her and said "I'll never let anything bad happen to you."

That afternoon when I arrived home, I had some chores to do.  I went in, changed clothes and came out to get things winterized around the ranch.  I mowed up all of the leaves, put all of the hoses away, put all of the yard tools in the shed and made my way to the Jeep to hook up to my home made pasture drag to drag the pasture.  As I approached, I could tell something was amiss.  She looked at me a little differently.  Normally it's like "Hell Yeah Buddy".  This time was like, "Oh geez, I'm not so sure about this... can we talk about this?"  

"No way, girl.  We have shit to do!  Were going to drag the pasture and then I am going to take you to the car wash, put a coat of wax on you and vacuum all of the dirt and rocks out of you!  You're the best."

I opened the door and what did I see.  Kombucha... a FUCKING KOMBUCHA  was sitting in the cup holder!  I screamed bloody murder!  The neighbor came out and said, "What's wrong?"  I said, "Someone tried to kill my Jeep!  There is a fucking Kombucha in the cup holder.  Everyone knows that the cup holder is for coffee, soda, maybe water and occasionally beer but never, ever, ever a Kombucha."

He scratched his head.  I said, "Can you come grab this shit?  I don't think I can do it!  I can't touch that hippy shit and then touch my Jeep!!!  She will explode!"  He turned around and walked away.  I fell to the ground unable to do anything but cry for about 10 minutes.  Somebody put hippy shit in my Jeep!  This was uncalled for, out of line and if I ever find the culprit... well, it wasn't going to end well.

I came to my senses and wiped the tears and snot on the sleeve of my favorite flannel shirt.  I apologized 20 times before I could muster the strength to grab that hippy juice from the confines of a man's cup holder and threw it in the driveway.  The bottle didn't even break.  This hippy love potion shit or whatever it is has super powers I don't want to fuck with!

I wiped the dash and asked her, "Who did this to you?  I have a set of skills that will allow me to make this person very uncomfortable for the rest of their lives, no matter how long or short that it may be."

I couldn't bring myself to making her drag the pasture.  Instead, I rolled down the windows to let her air out.  I had to get those hippy vibes out of the Jeep no matter what.  I grabbed Lysol, bleach, ammonia and 4 cans of brake cleaner and cleaned the ever loving shit out of every ever loving inch of her.... and then it hit me.

My wife, the woman of my dreams was the one to betray the Jeep and I!  How could she!  This senseless act could have been the end of the Jeep had I not caught it sooner.  That hippy juice was sitting there, further fermenting, casting unicorn dreams around the neighborhood.  I mean, this was unforgivable!  Nothing would ever be the same.  I gently closed the door to give her some time to be alone and free from the witchcraft bullshit my wife bestowed upon her.  And I waited.  Vengeance would be mine when I saw that woman!

An hour later, I caught my wife pulling into the drive in her little hippy wagon.  She had a big old smile on her face... life was wonderful for her, not knowing what she did to the rest of the household.  Even the dogs were pissed and if Buddha The Adventure Dog would have been there, he would have flat ass admonished her.  Nobody does that shit to Adventure Dog without repercussions.

"Wipe that smile from your face!" I demanded.  "Do you know what you've done?"  Before she could say anything, I pointed at the Kombucha bottle and said, "Someone tried to poison the Jeep!  I have a sneaky suspicion that it was YOU!  How dare you put hippy shit and hippy vibes in that Jeep... I was willing to let the Blues Traveler music slide but Kombucha is too much!"

She looks me dead in the eye, snatched the key out of my hand and walks to the Jeep.  She hops in, adjusts the seat, fires her up and says, "Nothing is wrong with the Jeep, you big pussy!  It's a Jeep!  She don't care!  She lives for this and all adventures" and off they went...  Yeah, leaving me standing there.

Not only did I not settle anything with her, she called me a pussy and stole the fucking Jeep.  Honestly, at this point, I started to question everything.  Was the Jeep and my relationship just a figment of my imagination?  Why did she turn so quick on me and try adjusting to a hippy lifestyle?  Everything I knew had changed in an instant.

With my head buried in my hands, I slowly made my way into the garage.  I suspected that the garage was going to turn on me too.  I fired up the boombox to a little song list that I call 'Fuck yeah" and sipped on a whiskey.  My life seemed so unfair at this moment in time.  Everything I knew to be true was just a lie.

The wife came back home eventually.  She glared at me.  She said, "I bought you a tall boy Busch Light and some grocery store sushi.  Will that help calm you down?"  I couldn't say yes.  That would allow her to think that she won.  I took the tallboy and sat it on the bench next to my glass of whiskey.  I stared at my tools, the Jeep and then the pictures I have of my kids.  I looked to see if my truck was still in the driveway.  No telling what kind of shit was going to happen next.

I walked in the house and tried to see if the house smelled of patchouli...  I knew it wouldn't because she hates that hippy shit as much as I do, but I wouldn't have put it past her.  She said in the warmest tone ever, "Honey, please have some sushi.  It's real good and you're going to love the wasabi.  It's super hot.  And, since you are so heart broken, I thought we could binge watch Hunting Bigfoot or Ghost Adventures."  She had me.  She had me like she always knew she did.

So here we sit, a week after this horrible event.  I guess I feel okay about things.  I swore I'd never forgive her.  I'm not sure the Jeep will.  Time will tell.

Thanks everyone for hanging in there with me.  This one was one of the top 10 most stressful things that has ever happened, IN THE WORLD!

Family

 

Good Morning!  I hope everyone is off to a powerful start on this beautiful Friday.  I hope your coffee is hot and your favorite mug stays full!  This is going to be a great weekend.  I'm going to have a little trigger time with a friend who just got a new 1911 and he wants a tune up and some pointers, so were going to load up a bunch of different noise makers and head out to the sticks!

So, let's get down to the topic this morning.  I'm not exactly sure what the topic is.  That shouldn't be too big of a surprise to most of you.  I was listening to a weird podcast and they were talking about "parenting styles".  

Like most of you, when the wife and I had kids, I didn't have any parenting skills.  I'm half assed sure that I don't have any now after raising a couple of people.  All I ever really wanted out of my children is for them to not grow up into assholes.  I figured that was my only real goal.  So far, this appears to be the case.  I'm proud of both of my boys.

The first one showed up when I was 27.  I went to lamaze classes with the wife.  Honestly, I didn't learn a thing.  When it came down to go time in the hospital, I screwed it all up.  I mean, the boy came out and everything was in the right place.  All of his fingers and toes were where they belonged.  I was worried though.  I had the same dream time and time again where my first born was just going to be born as a head.  Just a head.  No body, no feet, just a head.  (Kind of funny, right.)

The second one came around when I was 30.  I won't say I was an old pro at this time, but I was prepared, kind of.  I could change a diaper and I knew how to not lose or misplace your child, but that was about it.  And at the age of 30, I qualified as an adult but I still had so much stupid youth coursing through my veins.  My poor wife was raising 3 kids.  I think I can speak for her on this, we didn't have it all but we did have fun!

Humor was something I developed at a young age.  Humor is how I learned to deal with things.  Even if the worst shit in the world happened, I'd somehow find the humor in it.  Maybe it wasn't the most healthy thing in the world, but I'm still here, the wife is still here and both boys are still here.

So I said all of that to say this.  I was still in the bar business.  I'd get home often around 3-3:30am.  Unwind for a half an hour and hit the rack.  Typically the boys would be up a couple of hours later and depending on the day, these little fellers were my sole responsibility.  Other days, say the weekend, the wife and I would parent together.

On this particular morning, Roger was up first as this was not unusual.  Roger was old enough to be able to make himself a little breakfast all by himself.  I guess he was about 8-9 years old.  Shit, he was cooking his own eggs at this point, and as long as the house didn't burn down, everything was good.

Wade on the other hand.  This lunatic was completely capable of making a t-shirt his preferred type of boxer shorts and was going to put his pants on backwards just for the hell of it.  Best part was, he was convinced that this was okay.

So Roger is in the kitchen.  DeeDee and I hear him stirring around.  A couple minutes later, Wado-Tornado hits the scene.  First words out of Wade's mouth were "Bloooble loop".  Then he said it again, and again.  I looked at DeeDee and said, "What in the hell is that kid doing?"  Again, "Bloooble loop, blooble loop, blooble loop."

Roger says, "Wade! Stop!" Wade says, "Blooble loop, blooble loop, blooble loop."  Again Roger says in a bit more of an aggressive tone, "Wade stop!  Knock it off!".  Wade replies, "Blooble loop, blooble loop, blooble loop."  The kid can't help himself....  Roger again, even more aggressively says... in fact he yells "Wade!  Stop!".  Guess what came next?  "Blooble loop, blooble loop, blooble loop!"

The Roginator couldn't take it.  "Wade!  Stop it or I am going to punch you in the face."  

Let me stop right there.  If you know me and if you know my kids, you know nobody is going to stop anything.  We can't.  It's a Dudley gene.  There is some shit that we Dudley men cannot stop. 

DeeDee and I were getting up to break up the quarrel.  It had gotten to the point where the shit was going to hit the fan!  It was time for mom and dad to parent or at least try to adult.  I have to admit, part of me wanted to wait it out and see what was going to happen.  Roger fired the warning shot over Wade's bow.  Part of me wanted to see if he had it in him...

"Blooble loop, blooble loop, blooble loop" again, out of Wades mouth followed instantly by a sound of some child punching another child in the face.  "Crack!"  

I hop out of bed and open the door.  Old Wade, standing there with his hand over his eye, "Wooooo, hooo, hooo" crying his lights out.  I holler, "What in the hell is going on here?"  Wade said, "Roger punched me in the face!"  I replied, "Yeah, no shit.  He told you he was going to punch you in the face if you didn't knock it off!  And what did you do?  More of that blooble loop bullshit."

I look at Roger.  His eyes were as big as a hub cap.  He thought he was going to get it.  I just yelled, "You 2 knock this shit off.  You're brothers!  You have to look out for one another.  If one of you pisses the other off, I hope you punch the other guy in the face.  It's too early for this shit!  I haven't even had coffee yet."  That was it.  The crying stopped.  Roger kind of figured that he was out of trouble and my little buddy Wade probably didn't learn a fucking thing....

I walk back into the bedroom as DeeDee was still trying to put herself together and go give the boys an earful of momma logic.  We looked at each other and laughed.  DeeDee said, "Well, uhm... I think you handled that okay."  We laughed again.  I added, "Look, Roger said he was going to Wade in the face if he didn't quit pestering him.  He gave him a chance!  Old Wade caught a case of the "can't help its" and consequently got the business from Roger."

We somehow managed to gather our composure and walk out of our bedroom together.  Roger is sitting on one end of the couch eating a bologna sandwich or some shit and Wade is on the other end of the couch rubbing his freshly dotted eye.  I cracked up and headed back into the bedroom laughing hysterically.

DeeDee did her best to act like a responsible parent.  As she is making coffee she said, "You boys need to knock it off!  You're brothers and you love one another."  Wade says, "Yeah, but he punched me in the face."  DeeDee said, "He told you he was going to!"  She added, "He told you to knock it off at least 6 times before he hit you, and he told you that he was going to hit you. You could have knocked it off and this wouldn't have happened."  Wade says, ''Yeah, he told me to quit, but he could have politely asked me to quit."  

I absolutely lost it!  I laughed so hard that I couldn't breathe.  Both of these kids, my sole purpose at this point in my life were just like me!  My mom told me this would happen.  She convinced me that I even deserved it for the shit I pulled with my little sister.  As it turns out, she was right.  And you know what?  I wouldn't change it for the world!  I will remember this and at least 100 other stories until the day I die.

Now, to me... here comes the funny part.  We as a family have talked about this incident many times, even when the boys became adults.  We've laughed about it, because it is funny and it is real life shit!  I asked Wade, "Why didn't you just shup up?"  And just like his daddy, he said "I fucking couldn't.  I wanted to, but I just fucking couldn't."  

This was one of my proudest moments yet.  As adults, I knew they would probably be okay.  I was proud of Roger that early morning because he said he was going to do something about it and followed through.  Years later, I was proud of Wade regarding their morning rendezvous, because he admitted years later that he just couldn't help himself.  He took responsibility.  I like both sides.

I didn't put this out there for parental advice.  This is real life, no bullshit-but kind of bullshit.  Nobody really got hurt.  I'm half sure nobody in the family learned anything (another Dudley man trait).  But here we are.  20 years later, able to laugh about it.  

Parenting is hard, man.  Being a kid is hard.  Parents learning while the kids are learning.  Parents try to guide and kids try to see what they can get away with.  That is funny to me and I hope each of you has stories like this to share with one another or laugh with the family over.

We had 2 things, the Dudley family.  Lots of love and lots of laughter.  I am so grateful for every second I got to spend with these people.  I think we all learned together, some shit is serious and some shit is not, and in the end, if we can't laugh about it, well, it just wasn't worth it.  

To my boys Roger and Wade, I love you.  You'll never know how much.  And to my wife and life partner, I couldn't have any of this without you.  Thank you for being strong where I was not and thank you for having a sense of humor!  I love you.

"I'm the host? I mean, I am the host."

 

How is everyone doing?  Happy Memorial Day Weekend.  I haven't been on this thing for a while.  If you're new around here, I like to get on here every once in a while and tell a story or give my opinion on something.  Sometimes funny and sometimes a bit more serious, but this won't be that.

I can't believe I haven't told this one yet.  To me, this ranks pretty high on the obnoxious scale for me.  It was a situation where a little bit of alcohol made people think I was something that perhaps I was not.  Hang on for a second and I'll try to paint the picture.

I moved to Wyoming in 1989.  I knew about 4 people in the whole state and they were mostly family.  But this being a small town and me being in the business I was in, I met a lot of people in a short period of time.  Mostly good folks, mind you.  There were a few unsavory characters in the mix but you will have that just about anywhere you go.

So anyhow, lets jump forward a year.  It's 1990 in Jackson, Wyoming.  I am now tending bar.  I know a lot of people now, especially folks in the same industry that I was in.  There used to be this joint south of town that was good for steaks and libations.  The gentleman that ran the joint was a regular at the Cowboy Bar.  He'd stop in for a Heineken or a cup of coffee after making his deposit at the bank.  (I'll call him Mike... well, everyone called him Mike.  That was his name.)

Mike stopped in one morning and asked if I knew this particular couple that had recently gotten hitched.  The names sounded familiar but I always had to cross reference a name with where they worked.  The woman worked for Mike and her new husband worked construction in the valley.  Super nice folks and although I didn't know them personally, I did know who they were.

Mike said, "They come in here often.  They eloped a couple of weeks ago and I am putting together a small get together for them down at the Pub.  You ought to stop by, have a beer and some hor d'oeuvres and say howdy."  

Mike assured me that there would be a few folks there that I did know and that it was sure to be a good time.  So, I told Mike that I would attend.  Mike shook my hand and said, "See you then" and out the door he went.

I worked the day of the party.  I came home, took a shower and got gussied up a bit.  I went as far as to wear a sport jacket and I hardly ever do that!  I arrive at the venue and as usual, Mike greets me at the door.  As usual, a warm smile, a good handshake and Mike said, "The gathering is over here in the corner."  As we walked around the corner of the bar, Mike picked me up a beer and introduced me to the bride and groom.

We chatted for a few minutes and then the rest of the group started to arrive.  I kind of stepped out of the way and allowed everyone else to say hey to the bride and groom.  I ordered myself another beer and talked with a bartender that I knew.  A minute or two later, a couple of people I did know showed up.  I had a beer or two with them and realized that I had to make my way to the restroom.

As I proceeded towards the lavatory, I got stopped by a nice older couple that I knew.  I shook their hands and had a brief conversation.  As I moved away, I ran into some of my regular customers from the Cowboy.  I had a chat with them and then made my way to my destination.

I did what I had to do there and came back out.  The dining room was about half full, which was typical for the time of day.  It seemed as if I knew about 75% of the people in there.  I was walking around, shaking hands, giving hugs.... I looked like a guy running for political office.  It dawned on me that I was talking to almost everyone in the room.  It might have looked like I worked there with my nicely ironed jeans, new boots, white shirt and jacket on.

I decided that it was time to get back to my corner and out of the dining room.  Just as I turned to walk back into the bar area, a gentleman tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Can you tell me what the specials are this evening?"

The right thing to do would have been to tell the guy that I didn't work there.  I didn't do that.  Like I mentioned above, I had a little liquid courage on board so I answered him this way.  "I'd be glad to tell you about our specials.  As usual, our steaks are hand cut daily.  You can't go wrong with the large filet or one of our ribeye steaks.  We do have a fish special tonight.  It's a seared swordfish with a mixed fruit salsa served with a wild rice medley.  We also have a pan seared tuna appetizer that comes with a wasabi dipping sauce.  The Surf and Turf is on special tonight.  It's an 8oz prime filet paired with a 6 oz lobster tail and that comes with all of the trimmings and your choice of potato."

At this point, I was talking out of my ass.  I had no business saying what I said, but now it's out there and I had to go hide, so I did.  I nodded and said, "Your server will be with you in just a moment."  I got back to my corner, ordered another beer and didn't tell anyone what I just did.

For the life of me, I don't know why I didn't tell the guy that I didn't work there.  This was the first time that I ever smart assed off like this, and, well, I thought I was hilarious.  

From where I was standing, I could see this particular table.  Their server arrived at their table.  I watch him go through the greeting process.  As he is talking to the gentleman, I notice that the woman said something and is looking around the room.  The server excused himself for a couple of minutes and came back to the table with someone from the kitchen.

Now there is a big discussion going on.  I wouldn't say it was heated but they were definitely trying to sort some things out.  About a minute later, my friend Mike showed up at the table.  

If anyone was going to get things sorted, it was Mike.  This guy was one of the best Front of House/Hosts I ever met in my life.  I don't know if he knows this, but he taught me a lot.  Anyways, they are all involved in this discussion.  Mike is looking around like he is trying to find the person who gave these nice folks a line of shit about the specials.  The server walks away and comes back in a minute with a bottle of red wine.

Now the male customer is standing up.  I am thinking that I had probably be ready to intervene as Mike was not a fighter and this guy looked to be pretty pissed off.  He ends up shaking Mikes hand, has a seat and enjoys a glass of wine while he waits for his order.

I am thinking to myself, "Well dipshit, you about caused a war.  Don't do that anymore.  This is a nice place.  You were invited.  You aren't even buying your liquor so it would behoove you to get all of your shit in one sock, fly right and get out of here without getting your ass kicked or embarrassed."

Mike comes over to our corner rubbing his forehead.  He walks up to the bride and groom to check on them.  He checks with the bartender, the cocktail waitress and then starts walking towards me.  He says, "I just had some jack ass tell some customers about a bunch of specials that we don't have and I am pretty sure he doesn't work here.  Who in the hell would do that?"  He laughed.  I laughed and added, "I don't know but that is kind of funny, isn't it?"  

Mike being the good natured guy he is said, "I wish he wouldn't have done it tonight.  Any other night and it would have been funny."  He then added, "If I find this guy, can you help me escort him out?"  I said, "It'd be my pleasure, Mike."

So here I stand at the cross roads.  I'm guilty, but Mike doesn't know it.  The server doesn't know it.  Nobody in this party knows it, but sooner or later I was going to have to throw myself out of that place.  I stayed around for another beer.  The place was filling up quickly and I took that as my que to leave.  The problem was, I had to walk by this particular table on my way to the door.  They were going to notice my dumb ass for sure.

So, since I already had a case of the "can't help its", I slammed my beer and headed towards the door.  I rounded the corner of the bar and was bee lining towards the exit.  As I checked on my "friends" sitting in the two top directly across from the exit, I catch eyes with the woman.  She does that thing, that look when you think you recognize someone but aren't sure....  I put a smile on and make a brisk turn towards the door.  The lady says, "Excuse me."  I turned and said, "Enjoy the specials" and hit the door.

It's been 35 years since that has happened.  I can't remember if I ever told Mike about that.  As far as I know, only that couple, the server, the guy from the kitchen, Mike and I are all who knows about it, and Mike didn't know that I was the culprit.

You can bet your ass that I was buying Mike a beer every time I saw him at the Cowboy.  Not even a regular comp.  I was buying his drink with my own money.  I felt as if I owed him that.  Mike, if you're still around, I am going to apologize now.  I'm not so sure why I thought that would be funny... but it kind of was.  At least to me.

I've got a "different Mike" story.  I'll get to that one next.

I'm going to blow out....

Happy Friday everybody!  I'm not happy, and that is why I am about to blow out, here and now.  Lots of things have my knickers in a knot.

First off, the news.  I quit reading the news some time back.  It was so rewarding to not have to have this silly shit swirling around in my big ass head.  And now for some dumb reason, I have begun reading the news again.  None of it is good.  I can't tell what is accurate but I still know a line of bullshit when you try to feed it to me.

Online I have been harping about the republicans.  A friend asked me why and I will address this here.  The why is easy.  I bought into the republican party before I was 18.  The whole idea of being fiscally responsible, being for freedom, being a 2nd Amendment supporter... this was the only real choice for me.

For years I stood by and voted the party line (Which is exactly what they want).  (Both parties, by the way.)  I was told that the republican party was all of the aforementioned and then some.  I bought it.  I was told that the democrats were coming after my freedom (which is still what they say today).  They were coming after my guns.  They were trampling my rights.  "Free speech!  They are coming after free speech!"

They ain't coming after free speech.  What you have to understand about free speech is, you can say pretty much whatever you want to say, but there are going to be consequences.  You are likely to get a few people pissed off with your free speech.  I've done it and probably will again with this rant! You might get your ass whipped.  Nothing I am saying here is "illegal".  I won't go to jail for any of this, but there may very well be consequences.  Anyone has the right to be offended by what I say.  But then what?  You're offended... so we aren't friends anymore?  We can't have a conversation anymore?  We can't agree to disagree?  

I have a friend at work.  He is way more progressive than I am.  Years ago, he told me that I was wrong for not voting.  He said, "You still have to vote."  I pointed out to him how often either side looks you square in the eye, feeds you a line of bullshit and you either bite or don't bite.  I said, "You are choosing between liars.  You are choosing which cancer you want to kill you.  I don't want cancer and I won't vote for a liar.  Any liar.  Lying is not okay, ever."

As our discussion developed, I made a few more points that he acknowledged, perhaps half heartedly.  Just the other day, this man told me, "You were right."  The very next thing he said was, "Its both sides.  They can't help but lie.  They are pandering for votes.  Most of the shit they espouse is shit they could never get pushed through, and they are cunning enough to know that!"

I congratulated the man.  He said, "Biden and his $15 dollar minimum wage... what a crock of shit that was.  He said that on his first day in office, this was going to be the norm.  On his first day, he walked away from that statement.  Completely blew that shit off."  And, he's right.  

That was only one point we discussed, but the problem is far deeper.  Whether you are a R or a D, you are being lied to on a regular basis.  You accept or don't mention the bullshit on your side and immediately deflect to the other side.  The problem with this is the level of disfunction has just grown.  These jack wagons know they have you right where they want you.  They have respective captive audiences, they know what you want to hear and as long as there are consumers that will lap this shit up, it will continue.  Completely unaccounted for, by the way.  None of this shit is good.

I remember a day when a lie was an immediate disqualifier.  No matter the lie, you were going to be held accountable.  And then somewhere along the lines, we idolized these dickheads in politics and quit holding them unchecked.  it's actually worse.  If they lie and they are on "your side" we now protect these fucking people!  Why?  How?

I remember when janky shit was noted as janky shit.  Most everyone wanted no part in it, but it now appears if people have an investment in this.  If it's "your guy", it's tolerable?  I think you ought to hold "your side" more accountable.  That's how I was brought up.  Most of us were brought up that way.  That is gone now.  It just doesn't exist.  I don't understand it.

I have had people tell me (like its a bad thing) "You are way more liberal than you used to be."  Yeah, no shit.  I've learned a lot of things in the last 56.85 years.  I tried to quit being ignorant.  I've read and listened to many other peoples side of the story.  I've learned that so much of what we learned in school was only part of the story, minus what "they" don't want you to know.  

I have a lot of people to whom I am thankful for being patient and then pointing out the obvious to me, but I won't name them here.  They might not approve of my post.

I learned to be more considerate of other people's needs.  I've learned that we are here, pretty much with the same needs and wants all the while elected officials just dangle that shit out in front of you to pander for their votes.  If elected, they get paid... by us.  They tell us when they get a raise.  Martha Stewarts ass went to prison over "insider trading" and numerous politicians have been guilty of the same fucking thing and NOTHING HAPPENED!  There is no accountability.  These fucking people do what they want and convince their supporters that THEY are the only person who can do the job.  And, we are fucking simple enough to go right along with it if at least most of the shit they say and do goes along with OUR way of thinking.  

This whole fucking thing has gotten so far out of hand that entertainers, people who take money and do their dog and pony show for us have been given the space within corporate media time slots to voice their opinions.  Some of these very same entertainers where once chastised for being 'draft dodgers" by people who now support them?  If being a draft dodger was once that important to you, how do you give them a pass now? How did you once despise someone and now believe everything they say and do?  People have given passes to too many people that have a little notoriety, just because they are famous.  

I don't get it.  How can this shit be real?  What in the fuck happened?  Can anybody help me with this?  Have I lost my fucking mind?  Is this shit not happening?  

"If you don't vote, you can't complain."  Horse shit.  I've held people accountable for the things they say and do all of my life with voting set aside from that.  I'm always going to do that.  I was brought up believing a man's/woman's word was everything.  You respect until you have reason to not respect and lying was a disqualifier.  Not anymore.  If it's a "good" lie, if it sounds almost believable, it's now an alternative fact.  Where in the fuck did that come from?  How is that even a thing?

It's still both sides and I am harping on the republicans because I used to believe in them.  I bought their shit hook, line and sinker.  Now, I am mad.  I'm mad because I was that gullible.  I thought, I was actually told that these people cared about me.  They don't give a fuck.  Actually, that's not true.  They give a fuck until they have your vote, then they quit giving a fuck.

Do you think for one god damned second that any of these parasites know what it's like to live in your shoes?  Do you think they understand your troubles?  All they know is this.  They know what riles you up and by being "riled" up, you feel apart of this thing.  You feel invested and when your guy loses, it hurts and this produces more vitriol, more hatred and misguided anger towards US, THE PEOPLE.

I'm fucking sick with this.  

Now, the media.  How did this get so far out of whack?  (Big money donations has a lot to do with it.)  I believed the news back in the day.  Now I see how much revenue the news generates.  I see where that money comes from.  The news is loyal to whomever is paying them the most.  

I used to think we could do better or be better.  I still do to some extent, but I think that comes down to the individuals.  I think it comes down to US doing better.  I think it comes down to US holding responsible parties feet to the fire and once they lie, we cut them off.  It won't happen though.  I think were too far gone.  I think too many Americans love the likes of Hannity or whats her nuts on MSNBC.  Factual information aside.  I think Americans think they identify with us and we them.  All of this shit is propaganda.  You buy it or you don't.  I fucking don't.  And please, do NOT say anything around me that you don't want to later be held accountable for.  

Cancel culture.  Another crock of shit bestowed upon us by the sources.  People seem to like cancel culture until it happens to "their guy".  If its good for the goose, it's good for the gander.  If you are going to feed giant ass lies of bullshit to the public, you should be canceled.  If you have a certain level of celebrity and use your influence to cancel shit, you yourself should be prepared for the consequences.  If in return your ass gets cancelled, you bought in to it and this is the public taking the trash out.

Fucking people are mad at beer, books, amusement parks, espouse freedom but want to fuck you right out of your rights?  Kid Rock... this guy blows up beer, gets a platform to express his opinion on a biased "news" source and calls for cancellation.  Then the dumb fuck comes out and says, "I didn't think this was going to affect the people that worked there?"  Could you be any more fucking stupid?  Fact of the matter is, dumb ass likes a cold Bud Light.  

Then you have jerk off politician that hops on that band wagon.  "I'll never have or serve that shit at my house'.  Then he shows his poolside beer fridge stocked with products made by the same producer?  You're still supporting the brand, dick head.  Are you that dumb?  (Better go vote for his lying ass!)

I am sad to say that I have lost friends over this.  I'll probably lose more, and if these folks can't be genuine, have a good hard look at themselves and take a personal inventory, I am okay with "losing them". 

My intent with this rant was to open some eyes.  I know some smart people caught up in this bullshit, and if they can't fess up and eat a little crow, it was nice knowing you.  I'm getting too old for this shit.  I don't have time for people who say they are for honesty and integrity and then discount both when it comes to voting.  

And as a disclosure, I will ad this.  I've been told that I am too hard on people.  If we've ever been close, you're fucking right I've been hard on you.  You were trusted in my circle.  I expected more from you.  If you can't be honest, if you can't be kind, if you can't be humble, what are we even doing?

Pending surgery:

 

Happy Monday!  I hope everyone is having a peach of a day.  Sure is pretty enough around here to be having a good day.  Not sure why I got a hitch in my giddy-up, but damned if I don't.

I've been talking about my upcoming shoulder surgery a bit lately.  I'm not scared about it.  I just want it done and I want to get through that first week of bullshit, then I will be able to handle everything else.

Surgeries, it seems, are a bit different than the last one I had.  I had an umbilical hernia repaired 25-27 years ago.  Everything that needed to be done was done in the office pre-op.  Nowadays, you get to do a lot of this stuff online.  I'm sure some of you are saying, "Oh yeah, so much more convenient."  Well, your buddy can't figure this shit out.

I had to fill out this thing called a patient portal.  This little gem of an idea is supposed to make corresponding with the surgical center and everyone else involved so much easier.  One of the things it asks you to do is 'produce a strong password'.  

I worked on this bullshit for 45 minutes.  buddhalikesmuffins was not strong enough.  ddbdrdwd1967 wasn't strong enough.  maryhadalittlebuzzard wasn't strong enough.  kickthecat883 wasn't strong enough and it was about at this point that I started losing my shit.

I spelled my childhood address backwards and that wasn't strong enough.  I spelled zyzzyzyermocalif1987 and that wasn't strong enough.  I used copenhagen101.5, KOMProckslasvegas, pocketpuppy, loverlipz, lmaoIamgoingtoshit... none good enough.

I scrolled to the top of the page.  I re-read all of the instructions.  I went back to where I am supposed to type this "strong password".  I typed in brushyeyebrows and noticed a little eyeball icon to the right of it. I clicked on it and it said, burshyeyebrows is taken but brushyeyebrows097 is not.  I type in burshyeyebrows097 and hit enter..... not strong enough.

All of the bullshit I could come up with is not strong enough.  The god damned suggestion that THEY MADE was not strong enough!!!!

Well, I threw my phone in the recycle basket and walked away.  I took a 5 minute walk and came back.  At the bottom of the page I found this nice little "help' button.  I clicked on it and it allowed me to type a message to the "specialist".

I wrote exactly this:  I've been messing with registering for 45 minutes and for one reason or another, I cannot come up with a password that is strong enough.  The little green light says it is STRONG ENOUGH, but as soon as I hit send, I get another FUCKING message that says my password is not strong enough.  Now what?

Cicely, who seems to be a very kind person wrote back.  Her advice was to type a password and if it isn't strong enough, the little eye icon would suggest one that is strong enough.

I replied:  Cicely, no dice.  I typed exactly what they told me was strong enough and it didn't work.  At this point, I'd rather try my hand at stuffing cooked spaghetti noodles up a rabid bobcats ass than play little typewriter games.  I am having a shoulder surgery.  I don't give 2 half shits about anyone knowing my business and I am not in the mood for coming up with an unbreakable code for a fucking password that I'll never, ever remember.

Cicely hasn't responded.  If I were her, I'd be laughing right now.  I don't know what in the world that I am doing wrong but I cannot mess with that shit any more today....  I just can't.  I bet I can't do it tomorrow.  I mean, I have created passwords 100 times at least-no issue!  Why NOW!

By the way, dirtysanchez, dirtyjuanita, dirtypirate, baltimorebrownie, puffypoundcake, fecalfelon, knobgobbler2000, gofuckyourself, gofuckmyself, gofucktheneighbor, Ilovepoliticians, chickenchoker, chokedchicken, wonderbra, elvisshitthebed, hunchbackedmidgethooker and ifmyhearthadanass, i'dkick it.. None of them worked... at one point it told me that I can't use punctuation.

Well, fucked again.  I'll get home and let the wife have a crack at it.  If she gets it....  I don't know what I'll do.  Probably cuss a lot more.  Go throw a hammer or light my cellphone on fire.  I'm done...