Spring breaks my wallet
Okay, it's Tuesday morning of Spring Break and I'm ready for it to be over. Get these kids back in school, and I vote that they go year around like they do in China. Who's with me?
First of all, we had to go shopping just for this week. I mean, we always have to go shopping for groceries, but this week we had to buy $100 more than usual because they were going to be home all week. $100 more? Are we raising cattle?
Then we had to talk the 13 year old off the ledge because she found out we weren't "going anywhere" for Spring Break. "What? We aren't going anywhere?" she asked. "What are we going to do all week? We're just going to stay home over Spring Break? All week? No vacation?"
I told her why don't I send her to China, let her get a job with Nike, and she can pay for her own damn vacation. Or maybe she can give up her phone, half the clothes in her closet that she never wears, her cheerleading uniform that cost more than some vehicles... I'm not sure, but I think that after all the eye rolling and gasping, she finally got the picture.
I knew it was going to be bad when I couldn't watch t.v. Sunday night. You see, Sunday night is when I catch up on some t.v. shows that I DVR all week. Some of them aren't for kids. In fact, most of them aren't. But as I sat down to watch them, these kids started showing up like those little flying bugs around the lights lately.
Plus, they want to share the couch with you. I'm not their momma, I don't want to share a couch. I don't want to snuggle, or be close, or any of that. I want to stretch out, have my own space, and be comfortable. But you can't do that with these little kids all over the place.
Monday while I'm at work my wife calls me. The girls are fighting. They are texting my wife telling on each other, blackmailing each other with pictures of eating in the living room, etc. Holy... One of them even told the other one that she was going to tear her face off. Tear her face off? Who says stuff like that? What girl says stuff like that?
So I get home from work, put one foot in the door, and get bombarded with "I want to"s and "Let's do"s from everywhere. My son, who I haven't seen in a couple of days because he's been hunting with my brother-in-law, is walking around in 80 degree weather with his camoflauge hunting gear like he's Elmer Fudd. He wants to make burgers on the pit, but first I have to mow the yard, weed eat, go for a run, take a shower, do some paper work, write this column... You get the picture.
Well, needless to say, the column got put off until this morning. And now I'm late for work.
You see? That's why I don't have time for this, or the nerves. That's why I say send them to school all year around.
I used to beg my wife when we were dating that we should just keep pets- no kids. You think my dog Chuy rolls his eyes when we can't go on vacation? No, he's perfectly fine laying around all day doing nothing and watching t.v.
And his food doesn't cost $100.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Judge carefully
The big news of the week is about the New Orlean Saints and their former defensive coordinator Gregg Williams. Williams allegedely led a bounty system for his players while coaching in New Orleans, where they were paid extra when opposing players were knocked out, carted off the field. or didn't come back into the game.
Nobody knows how bad this is going to get yet, but every expert I've read expects the National Football League to come down hard on Williams, the Saints, and even head coach Sean Payton. And of course, they should.
Not so much for the bounty stuff- a defensive lineman is going to hit the quarterback as hard as he can every time, no matter whether he's getting paid extra or not. No, the NFL should come down hard on the Saints because they are trying to run one of the biggest businesses in the country. And you know what can bring down a big business? Lawsuits.
If some quarterback takes a helmet to helmet hit while playing against the Saints and struggles to put kid puzzles together for the next thirty years, can you imagine the lawsuit that his wife and children would have againt the league? Especially if the league found out about this bounty system and chose to do nothing about it? It would be a big enough lawsuit to maybe cripple the league. And if you don't think a little lawsuit can cripple a big business, just ask the big tobacco companies, the big gun companies, the big petroleum companies, etc.
One part of this story actually makes me laugh, though. I love how every single time there is a scandal in sports, in politics, or in Hollywood, people act like the sky is falling. They just can't believe that people would go outside of the rules like this. They want celebrities to be better people and role models, especially athletes. And of course, they themselves would never act that way if they had the opportunity that these guys do.
Um, hello? Do you know how much money is at stake here? We are talking about multi-million dollar contracts in this sport, from coaches and players. And if you can't get the job done, there are five other guys right there on the roster that are ready to take your spot- and salary.
I've never been a moralist when it comes to things like this. I think once you start judging other people, you open yourself up for people to judge you. You can judge Tiger Woods and Bill Clinton and all these other guys all you want, but the fact is that you don't know what happens in their houses and bedrooms (and more importantly, what doesn't).
You can judge Roger Clemens, Barry Bonds and Mark McGwire all you want. But the fact is, you don't have the chance to earn millions of dollars for producing like they did. Let me tell you something- If I thought for one second that poking a needle in my butt a few times a week would help me earn a salary that would set my kids and grandkids up for life, my backside would have more holes than a screen door. And whether you want to admit it or not, 90% of you reading this feel the same way.
And for all the 10% of you that are judging my morals right now, remember that this is tax season. I'll bet I could go to the person doing your taxes and he could tell me a thing or two about your morals...
The big news of the week is about the New Orlean Saints and their former defensive coordinator Gregg Williams. Williams allegedely led a bounty system for his players while coaching in New Orleans, where they were paid extra when opposing players were knocked out, carted off the field. or didn't come back into the game.
Nobody knows how bad this is going to get yet, but every expert I've read expects the National Football League to come down hard on Williams, the Saints, and even head coach Sean Payton. And of course, they should.
Not so much for the bounty stuff- a defensive lineman is going to hit the quarterback as hard as he can every time, no matter whether he's getting paid extra or not. No, the NFL should come down hard on the Saints because they are trying to run one of the biggest businesses in the country. And you know what can bring down a big business? Lawsuits.
If some quarterback takes a helmet to helmet hit while playing against the Saints and struggles to put kid puzzles together for the next thirty years, can you imagine the lawsuit that his wife and children would have againt the league? Especially if the league found out about this bounty system and chose to do nothing about it? It would be a big enough lawsuit to maybe cripple the league. And if you don't think a little lawsuit can cripple a big business, just ask the big tobacco companies, the big gun companies, the big petroleum companies, etc.
One part of this story actually makes me laugh, though. I love how every single time there is a scandal in sports, in politics, or in Hollywood, people act like the sky is falling. They just can't believe that people would go outside of the rules like this. They want celebrities to be better people and role models, especially athletes. And of course, they themselves would never act that way if they had the opportunity that these guys do.
Um, hello? Do you know how much money is at stake here? We are talking about multi-million dollar contracts in this sport, from coaches and players. And if you can't get the job done, there are five other guys right there on the roster that are ready to take your spot- and salary.
I've never been a moralist when it comes to things like this. I think once you start judging other people, you open yourself up for people to judge you. You can judge Tiger Woods and Bill Clinton and all these other guys all you want, but the fact is that you don't know what happens in their houses and bedrooms (and more importantly, what doesn't).
You can judge Roger Clemens, Barry Bonds and Mark McGwire all you want. But the fact is, you don't have the chance to earn millions of dollars for producing like they did. Let me tell you something- If I thought for one second that poking a needle in my butt a few times a week would help me earn a salary that would set my kids and grandkids up for life, my backside would have more holes than a screen door. And whether you want to admit it or not, 90% of you reading this feel the same way.
And for all the 10% of you that are judging my morals right now, remember that this is tax season. I'll bet I could go to the person doing your taxes and he could tell me a thing or two about your morals...
It's gotta be the shoes
Can you tell me the most important issue that seems to be gripping our country today? Is it the economy? Unemployment rates? The upcoming election? No, it's the latest Nike shoe release.
I've been reading on the internet where a bunch of morons have stood in line for hours and even rioted in a few places just to get a new pair of these shoes that just came out. Let me just state right now that unless you live in some war-torn third world country, if you've ever stood in line for more than a couple of minuts to buy anything, you're an idiot.
I'll tell you what I'd like to see happen. First of all, I'd love it if they went to one of these stores and gave everyone an IQ test. The scores can't be that high. Next, they should take down all the names of people standing in line for these $220 shoes and fine them heavily or throw them in jail if they ever have children. People like this should never procreate. Ever.
When you watch the videos, half of these people can't run right because they are holding up their pants. That right there tells you they can't be that bright. You have to know when you leave the house whether or not you need a belt.
Honestly though, these people need to be studied. As a country, we have to find out what makes people like this tick. What makes one stand in line for hours for a pair of shoes that, let's be honest, they probably can't afford? What makes people buy houses and cars that puts them in debt for years and years? What makes people treat Ranch dressing and sugar like it's oxygen? A low IQ plus a lack of self control is a dangerous thing. We need to get to the bottom of it.
I'm going out on a limb here and say that if you went to one of these stores and talked to these kids, you'd see that their parents act the same way. The kid that is payig $220 for sneakers probably has the parent that spends $100 a week on lottery tickets and beer, or the parent that buys a $200,000 house when they can only afford a $100,000 house.
As parents, we have to understand that our kids watch the way we act, what we say, how we deal with problems, how we spend our money, etc. Even if they don't realize they copy us, they do. They can't help it, it's all they know.
Recently I saw a video on YouTube of two Hearne students fighting behind a fence. That's disturbing, but not unusual. I saw plenty of fights in school, even participated in a few myself. The disturbing part came when the girl holding the camera said "Mom, move! I can't see!" This is the kind of parent I'm talking about here. Her daughter doesn't have a chance, if her mother is the kind who stands aside watching two young girls roll around on the ground beating each other senseless.
Too many parents are showing their kids how to act without self control instead of showing them how to stay calm, think things through, get what they want through hard work, and spend their money wisely.
After all- you ever see a riot over work boots?
Can you tell me the most important issue that seems to be gripping our country today? Is it the economy? Unemployment rates? The upcoming election? No, it's the latest Nike shoe release.
I've been reading on the internet where a bunch of morons have stood in line for hours and even rioted in a few places just to get a new pair of these shoes that just came out. Let me just state right now that unless you live in some war-torn third world country, if you've ever stood in line for more than a couple of minuts to buy anything, you're an idiot.
I'll tell you what I'd like to see happen. First of all, I'd love it if they went to one of these stores and gave everyone an IQ test. The scores can't be that high. Next, they should take down all the names of people standing in line for these $220 shoes and fine them heavily or throw them in jail if they ever have children. People like this should never procreate. Ever.
When you watch the videos, half of these people can't run right because they are holding up their pants. That right there tells you they can't be that bright. You have to know when you leave the house whether or not you need a belt.
Honestly though, these people need to be studied. As a country, we have to find out what makes people like this tick. What makes one stand in line for hours for a pair of shoes that, let's be honest, they probably can't afford? What makes people buy houses and cars that puts them in debt for years and years? What makes people treat Ranch dressing and sugar like it's oxygen? A low IQ plus a lack of self control is a dangerous thing. We need to get to the bottom of it.
I'm going out on a limb here and say that if you went to one of these stores and talked to these kids, you'd see that their parents act the same way. The kid that is payig $220 for sneakers probably has the parent that spends $100 a week on lottery tickets and beer, or the parent that buys a $200,000 house when they can only afford a $100,000 house.
As parents, we have to understand that our kids watch the way we act, what we say, how we deal with problems, how we spend our money, etc. Even if they don't realize they copy us, they do. They can't help it, it's all they know.
Recently I saw a video on YouTube of two Hearne students fighting behind a fence. That's disturbing, but not unusual. I saw plenty of fights in school, even participated in a few myself. The disturbing part came when the girl holding the camera said "Mom, move! I can't see!" This is the kind of parent I'm talking about here. Her daughter doesn't have a chance, if her mother is the kind who stands aside watching two young girls roll around on the ground beating each other senseless.
Too many parents are showing their kids how to act without self control instead of showing them how to stay calm, think things through, get what they want through hard work, and spend their money wisely.
After all- you ever see a riot over work boots?
A bet is a bet...
Ahh, it's good to be back. After not writing a column for a couple of weeks, it occurred to me how much I missed not having anywhere to vent. My wife must have went to the paper and begged for my column slot back because she was tired of listening to me rant. Let's catch up, shall we?
I heard somewhere that when you are trying to lose weight, it takes about four weeks before you can really tell the difference in yourself. They said it takes about eight weeks before your signigicant other realizes, and about twelve weeks before the general public sees something. Well, some of you people better start noticing pretty quick, or I'm going to be depressed.
So far, I've lost between 23 and 25 pounds (it fluctuates daily) since the day after Thanksgiving. I've still got about fifteen more to go. The worst problem I've had with losing weight is the eating- or lack thereof. I'm an eater, I've always been an eater, and I'll always be an eater. I enjoy food like most people enjoy family time, or good company. When I'm eating a big plate of enchiladas or cutting into a chicken fried steak covered in cream gravy, it gives me a homey, comfortable feeling.
When I eat chicken, rice cakes and salad I feel like what my wife's friends must feel like when they come to the house and I happen to be home- kind of cold, lonely, and pretty much unwanted.
The running has been going pretty good, too. I'm in week eight of the nine week program that will train me to run a 5K (3.1 miles). Right now I' up to 2.8 miles when I run, and I think I'll keep going until I can run four miles comfortably. I've got to admit, though, that there is an asterisk by that statement. I've seen tax returns come back faster than I run that 2.8 miles.
In fact, a couple of weeks ago I was bragging about my jogging program at the poker table. One of my buddies kind of chuckled and said that he could outrun me in a mile, easily. At first I ignored him because the fact is, he was one Hell of an athlete back in the day. And I... well, I wasn't. Let's just leave it at that.
But as the night wore on, I got to thinking about the bet. "You know," I told myself, "he does smoke about a pack a day. He hasn't done any real running in years, and the guy outweighs you by at least thirty pounds." I'm not joking there, either. Anytime he wears a red t-shirt little kids chase him down on the street, trying to get the Kool-Aid man's autograph.
So finally, my pride got the best of me. I told him I'd accept the bet, we settled on an amount (because I'm not running a mile free for anyone), and decided to meet at the track at 9:30 the next morning.
Thirty minutes before we were supposed to meet at the track, my phone rang. "Let's do it for half the amount we said," my buddy told me.
"Nope," I said. "A bet is a bet."
He said it was half, or it was nothing. "Nope, a bet is a bet."
Let's just forget about it then, he said. We both get to keep our pride. "Huh uh, you owe me at least half," I told him. "Or you can meet me at the track and at least have a chance at winning. But a bet is a bet."
So my son and I met him at the track when we were supposed to, and my buddy proceeded to outrun me by a pretty huge margin. I still don't know how he did it. I kept the same pace for all four laps, and he stayed right there with me. At one point, he even got thirty yards ahead of me and walked until I caught up. The dude had time to stop and walk while he caught his breath! In the end, he finished about twenty seconds ahead of me. By the time I crossed the finish line, he was on his back well into his second heart attack.
Still not sure what sucks more- eating all this dry chicken every day, or the memory of having to pay Professor Klump his cash right in front of my own son. Oh, and hearing him painfully wheeze out the words "A...bet...is...a...bet."
Ahh, it's good to be back. After not writing a column for a couple of weeks, it occurred to me how much I missed not having anywhere to vent. My wife must have went to the paper and begged for my column slot back because she was tired of listening to me rant. Let's catch up, shall we?
I heard somewhere that when you are trying to lose weight, it takes about four weeks before you can really tell the difference in yourself. They said it takes about eight weeks before your signigicant other realizes, and about twelve weeks before the general public sees something. Well, some of you people better start noticing pretty quick, or I'm going to be depressed.
So far, I've lost between 23 and 25 pounds (it fluctuates daily) since the day after Thanksgiving. I've still got about fifteen more to go. The worst problem I've had with losing weight is the eating- or lack thereof. I'm an eater, I've always been an eater, and I'll always be an eater. I enjoy food like most people enjoy family time, or good company. When I'm eating a big plate of enchiladas or cutting into a chicken fried steak covered in cream gravy, it gives me a homey, comfortable feeling.
When I eat chicken, rice cakes and salad I feel like what my wife's friends must feel like when they come to the house and I happen to be home- kind of cold, lonely, and pretty much unwanted.
The running has been going pretty good, too. I'm in week eight of the nine week program that will train me to run a 5K (3.1 miles). Right now I' up to 2.8 miles when I run, and I think I'll keep going until I can run four miles comfortably. I've got to admit, though, that there is an asterisk by that statement. I've seen tax returns come back faster than I run that 2.8 miles.
In fact, a couple of weeks ago I was bragging about my jogging program at the poker table. One of my buddies kind of chuckled and said that he could outrun me in a mile, easily. At first I ignored him because the fact is, he was one Hell of an athlete back in the day. And I... well, I wasn't. Let's just leave it at that.
But as the night wore on, I got to thinking about the bet. "You know," I told myself, "he does smoke about a pack a day. He hasn't done any real running in years, and the guy outweighs you by at least thirty pounds." I'm not joking there, either. Anytime he wears a red t-shirt little kids chase him down on the street, trying to get the Kool-Aid man's autograph.
So finally, my pride got the best of me. I told him I'd accept the bet, we settled on an amount (because I'm not running a mile free for anyone), and decided to meet at the track at 9:30 the next morning.
Thirty minutes before we were supposed to meet at the track, my phone rang. "Let's do it for half the amount we said," my buddy told me.
"Nope," I said. "A bet is a bet."
He said it was half, or it was nothing. "Nope, a bet is a bet."
Let's just forget about it then, he said. We both get to keep our pride. "Huh uh, you owe me at least half," I told him. "Or you can meet me at the track and at least have a chance at winning. But a bet is a bet."
So my son and I met him at the track when we were supposed to, and my buddy proceeded to outrun me by a pretty huge margin. I still don't know how he did it. I kept the same pace for all four laps, and he stayed right there with me. At one point, he even got thirty yards ahead of me and walked until I caught up. The dude had time to stop and walk while he caught his breath! In the end, he finished about twenty seconds ahead of me. By the time I crossed the finish line, he was on his back well into his second heart attack.
Still not sure what sucks more- eating all this dry chicken every day, or the memory of having to pay Professor Klump his cash right in front of my own son. Oh, and hearing him painfully wheeze out the words "A...bet...is...a...bet."
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