Red Ring of Death

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 1 Number 19
Red Ring of Death

All Right Already!!! I will blog. Geez a guy can’t even take a Christmas break without getting harassed.

I hope that everyone reading this had a great Christmas (except the ones who don’t celebrate that holiday – I hope you had a great whatever you celebrate or at least a great day).

I had a very nice Christmas. My son, my mom, my girlfriend and I had a wonderful round of opening presents. We all received very nice and thoughtful gifts and we were very blessed to get to share the holiday with each other.

Mom cooked us up a succulent Christmas ham with all the trimmings. MMMMMMMMMBoy was it good. Still lots left for “sammiches” too.

I guess the best gift I received was not something that was wrapped in pretty paper, but something my son did one Christmas morning. The girlfriend and I got him an Xbox 360 for Christmas and strategically made him open his presents in a specific order so that it was almost the last one he opened. When he did tear into it he was actually flabbergasted that I would spend the money on such a thing. I guess he thinks I am cheap or something, but that opinion of me (real or perceived) just added to the surprise.

He had about five boxes to open after the 360. He was sure that they were all clothes, because they were wrapped in shirt boxes and I kept “accidentally” calling them clothes. As he opened the first of these and found that it was a game for his 360, he quickly caught on and tore open the others enthusiastically. He was a happy camper.

You may be saying to yourself, “So your kid was glad he got an expensive electronic device. Big deal! How is that YOUR best gift?”

As we all know the happy glow on a child’s face when they get THE gift they really wanted is a precious thing, but that was not my favorite gift.

He went to take the system into his room to set it up and play and I stopped him. I told him that since it was Christmas, he could hook it up in the living room on the HD big screen. He was stoked. I hooked it up for him and he and I marvel at the HD graphics and awesome game play…for all of 10 minutes. It froze up. Then the dreaded “red ring of death” showed up on the front of the Xbox 360. If you are an Xbox 360 owner you know that this is the end of the unit. It has bricked. It has had a general hardware failure.

My son was crushed. Obviously THAT wasn’t my favorite gift of the season. In fact, as sad as he was I was about 100 times worse, because I hate to see him disappointed.

The broken unit only saddened him for about a half an hour. After that he was over it almost completely. It didn’t ruin his ENTIRE Christmas. It didn’t cause him to be so ticked off that it affected everyone else’s holiday. He took the whole thing in stride.

At one point, he said to me that he obviously knew it wasn’t my fault and that he knew we would get it taken care of as soon as feasible. I told him that I felt bad that it didn’t work and that we would take care of it and that I just want him to be happy.

The best gift came next… my son hugged me and said “Dad, I couldn’t be happier than I am living with you.”

Until Next Time,
Wayne

Gift Swap!

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 1 Number 18
Gift Swap!

Tonight is our Company Christmas Party! Sorry…I don’t want us to be slapped with any lawsuits, so let me begin again.

Tonight is our Company Winter Meeting. Boy! That sounds cheerful, warm and snuggly.

Anyway, we are having the age-old, traditional “Secret-White-Santa-Elephant-Gift-Exchange.” (Whatever it is called.)

I don’t know about these things. I mean they are fun and all, but does anyone else feel extreme pressure when shopping for the gift that you will place on the table? I often do.

There is always a spending limit. This year there is a $20 maximum. So, what do you do? What if you see a perfect gift that is $11? I know that $20 is the max, but I often feel like a cheapskate because I haven’t hit the magic number.

On other occasions I have seen something cool for five or ten dollars OVER the limit. What do you do then? You know other people have seen the same things and will know that you spent more than the designated amount. “Oh, he is just showing off!” They’ll say.

The jury comprised of 12 angry men that reside in my head is still out on the whole gift card idea. I mean, sure you can usually get it for exactly the right amount, but I’m not sure if that is any good. For one thing you cannot really disguise it; it’s a little rectangular, flat box that screams, “Gift Card!” Also, if too many people bring them we are all just exchanging money. If that is the case, why not just draw a name and hand them $20? For that matter, why doesn’t everyone just keep their money?

I also often worry that whatever I think is really keen may be scoffed by other people. The horror of seeing your gift passed around because no one else in the company really wants a combination Chia Pet, George Foreman Grill, Lamp. It looked cool in the store!

Do you ever feel bad for wanting your own gift back? Last year I took an awesome dart board (the one with real points on the darts and a cool wooden case that closed the board behind nifty doors) and I sooooooooo wanted it. I was set up to take it back in the perfect trade where no one else could take it and… My conscience got the better of me and said, “You bought that for other people!” I am such a sap. I should have snatched it.

Maybe it is not really the gifts and trying not to get stuck with the $20 worth of incense. Maybe it is the fun and the laughter and the camaraderie. Oh! Wait it must be that, because that is what the holidays are all about.

Here’s to a stress-free holiday season to all of you. Merry Christmas!

Until Next Time,
Wayne

The Force of Christmas?

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 1 Number 17
The Force of Christmas?

Welp, here it is December 6^th; just 19 days until Christmas! Are you ready?

I am no where near being done yet. I have been just doing it as I go. Tomorrow I have a small gift exchange…I’ll buy something tonight. I don’t have a BIG chunk of time to devote to Christmas shopping. If you lumped it all together it would probably amount to a decent block of time, but to do it all at once would be impossible. Instead of harvesting the whole crop at once I just kind of cherry-pick.

(By the way, I just checked and I did NOT win the lottery. It drives me bonkers that I cannot beat those astronomical odds.)

So back to the shopping… I have been doing it in snippets. If I have to run into any business in this city I keep my eyes peeled for something that may be perfect for someone. It actually turns out ok, since I am in the store for another reason the item that is bold enough to jump out and bite me is generally perfect for someone on my list.

I have found that when I go in to go shopping FOR Christmas, I get NOTHING accomplished. I just get frustrated and distracted.

I was in a store last night and I was actually hunting for something that would make a good gift for the Secret Santa thing tomorrow and I started to lose it. ARGHHHHHHHHH.

My phone rang and I was drawn into a rather lengthy conversation. As I talked on the phone I meandered around the store aimlessly. While wandering, I noticed something at the bottom of a pile ahead of me. In my head I thought it would be great, but there was a separate component that would be needed to make it actually a good gift and therefore a great find.

Oh well. I shifted to left and what to my wondering eyes did appear? The other separate component! And the Angels sang, “Hallelujah!” I ended up getting the two items together for 25% of the normal price! And I found a dollar in the parking lot to boot! Woo! Hoo!

I guess as I strolled around the store, talking on the phone I let go of the stress of finding the perfect gift. I just talked and walked and took in the holiday sights and sounds. I found the perfect gift when I was NOT stressing about it. I found the perfect gift when I was talking to a good friend. I found it when I was surrounded by the Christmas Spirit.

It is kind of like when Luke was about to bomb the Death Star and he heard Obi-wan tell him, “Let go, Luke.” Maybe it would be best this Christmas to “switch off your targeting computer” and just let yourself go. Listen to the carols in the store, give some change to the bell-ringer, listen to the people laughing (block out the individuals saying gimme, gimme, gimme), watch kids sit on Santa’s lap or even just wander around among the Christmas displays and talk to a friend on the phone.

Trust me, the gift (whatever and for whomever it is) will be perfect, because it is from you.

Until Next Time,
Wayne

PS Leave me a comment and tell me how your shopping and stuff is going.

What's New Pussycat?

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 1 Number 16
What’s New Pussycat?

Hi, kids! I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving. I did. Friends, family and food. Nothing is better than that! This is, however, the time of year when people start stressing out really bad. Maybe the stress comes from the overload of friends and family. Maybe it comes from the need or desire to buy presents for everyone, then realizing that you have to cut the amount per person or cut the number of people. Oh, what to do?

It seems that during the Holiday Season we all become dogs. Yes, dogs. We want to please everyone. We want treats. We want to go for a ride (to Christmas Parties). We like our chew toys, but want that other dog’s chew toy at the same time. Grrrrrrrrrrr. We go to functions with our old pack and sniff the butts of the dogs there we don’t know. Woof! Woof!

Ah, to be a cat. Now, before you start calling me names that are synonymous with cat, hear me out.

Think how nice it would be to:

• Just lie down anywhere in any position you want and just not care. Purr.
• Walk past people and paying them no mind if you don’t want to. Purrr.
• Decide you don’t like someone and just scratch ‘em then runaway and go about your day. Purrrr.
• Eat the food in your bowl until it is empty then loudly cry until someone fills it for you. If they give you something you don’t like; walk away with your tail up high showing them exactly what they can kiss. Purrrrr.
• Be given treats just because. No need to do a trick. Purrrrrr
• Poop and pee and have someone else take care of “flushing” you litter box. Purrrrrrr.

Wouldn’t that be nice? Cats have no worries, because they do not care what anyone thinks. Cats look out for number one. Hiss!

My cat, Charley, hates women and makes no bones about it. If there is a woman within arm’s reach of her… SCRATCH - HISS – SCRATCH. She doesn’t care. She just does her best to take them out. Really, blood has been shed.

My girlfriend’s cat, Jake, has allergies. I think he may actually be allergic to cats. It sucks when you are allergic to yourself. His eyes get all “goopy” and instead of using a towel or washcloth: he gets the goop off by shaking his head. Goop flies all over the light colored carpet and tile. Jake doesn’t care. The humans will clean it up. You can almost see the cartoon speech balloon over his head after he has shaken off all the goop he can, “Dab my eyes for me kind lady.”

Our office cat, Nickel, is a pile of orange laziness. Much of his day is spent on our production manager’s desk, curled up in an “in” basket underneath a lamp. If he decides to stretch his legs he usually does so in front of the monitor at ejovj ao(GET OUT OF THE WAY, NICKEL!) at which someone is working. If he is not foiling anyone that way then he is generally walking on whatever someone is trying to read. He will tread across your People magazine and then plop down in the middle of the page you are reading. We still don’t know whatever happened with Jessica Simpson and John Mayer.

I love all of these cats, but they (and all others) really are self-centered.

I guess I don’t really want to be a cat. I'll keep being the dog I am. I like doing tricks. I like getting treats. I like going for rides. I like peeing on things. I like sniffing butts. (Hopefully you know I am speaking metaphorically.)

Maybe this Holiday Season I will just throw in a few moments of being a cat and crawl up on top of the fridge and read a good book or take a nap.

Until Next Time,
Wayne

Board!

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 1 Number 15
Board!

Here we go again. I didn’t do this blog on the day I had set aside to do it. Argh!!! My loyal readers (all three of you) are just going to have to check here every couple of days to see if a new blog has been posted. I can fulfill my promise of once a week, but I seem unable to nail down a day on which to get this thing done. Sorry for any inconvenience.

As I said in my October 10^th edition, I have the time, but I just always seem to be using it for something else. If you have been following along you also know that my family dynamic has changed; both my girlfriend and son now live with me. While the living arrangements are nothing but joyous to me; they have forced me to adjust my schedule, and I am still getting used to it.

When I get home from work the boy and I generally start making dinner. The girlfriend gets home sometime in the middle of that process. By the time she has changed clothes dinner is on the table and we all sit down and fill up on some home cookin’ and chat about the day. After that, the girlfriend cleans up supper while the boy and I work on his homework. Yes, Casa de Wayne is a very efficient place in the evening.

The living arrangements and scheduling changes bring me to this week’s topic. Man, are we having fun. Now that my son lives with us we are doing things a bit differently around Casa de Wayne.

Once the homework is finished the boy gets his choice of free time, and we are so lucky! In this day and age of heaps of channels, oodles of video games and truckloads of toys, 90% of the time my son picks BOARD GAMES!!!!!!! Woo! Hoo!

Board Games are so much fun and we actually learn stuff too. We also tick each other off (in a fun way) and sometimes “accidentally” knock opponents’ game pieces over. Fun! Fun! Fun!

The other night the girlfriend was at some function so it was boys’ night. We ate fried chicken (on the bone) and played Aggravation – a game in which you move your marbles around the board and try to get home. It seems easy enough, except we kept knocking each others marbles back to “start” – it is part of the game. We actually played the exact edition of the game that I have had since I was a kid. We had a blast. I remember that my sister used to cry whenever I would send her marbles back. Tee hee.

The boy really likes Pictionary lately. This is the one that gets us in trouble with the girlfriend. We two boys are just on the same wavelength. We can’t help it if we think alike. The other night I looked at my card to find out what I was supposed to draw and started the timer. We were off! Three grains of sand dropped, I drew a triangle and the boy shouted out RACCOON! He got it! Then we got it! The girlfriend may have actually accused of cheating by using E.S.P. (By the way, the triangle was going to be the ear of the raccoon.)

Monopoly is an old stand by if I feel like losing 85% of the time. That brat boy of mine is very good at that darned game! He just goes for broke! He will have eleven dollars left and then I’ll land on one of his stupid properties and “cha-ching!” We also have a couple different versions of Monopoly (Classic, Star Wars, etc.). It is obviously the same game, but the different looks, properties and pieces just spice it up a bit.

We also play The Game of Knowledge. It is a really cool trivia game because each card has a question for “ages 15 and younger” and a question for “ages 16 and older.” Other trivia games are either too sophisticated for kids or too easy for adults, so this one is perfect. I am thinking of making the boy answer the “16 and older” questions though, because he is just too smart and he beats us all the time.

A game the boy really enjoys is Worst Case Scenario Survival Game. This game asks you questions like: how do you book the safest hotel room in case of fire? And how do you dress for a sandstorm? The bulk of television that the boy actually watches is The Science Channel, so Survivor Man has taught him many things that have proven useful in beating the pants off the rest of us in this game.

In this day and age when we are all logged-on and plugged-in to so many different technological devices that actually isolate us from our fellow human beings, it is very heart-warming that the boy chooses a Board Game as a way to spend his free time. I think it really goes to show that we all (especially kids) crave that interaction with friends and family. There is really no better way to satisfy that craving than with a board game. By design we end up talking, learning and laughing together.

Have a great Thanksgiving!

Until Next Time,
Wayne

Volunteer

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 1 Number 14
Volunteer

OK! OK! OK!

Although I am sure that it was no huge loss in your lives I must apologize for not posting a blog on the day I am supposed to. Originally, I designated Wednesdays as my posting day. Then the boy moved in with me (woo! hoo!) and my blog time coincided with the time at which I needed to pick him up at school. So, I moved posting day to Sunday. Perfect – no problems – I could sit there in my jammies or grubby jeans and spew forth whatever would be the topic of the day.

So what happened this Sunday?

Frankly, no smoke and mirrors: I forgot. I was busy doing something that was actually quite worthwhile and one thing led to another and then poof it was today and no blog had been posted. Sorry.

Every year I volunteer to work for the Las Cruces International Mariachi Conference. I work the souvenir stand selling LCIMC shirts and hats and buttons and anything else we have made up for the conference. This year I (along with my girlfriend and two of our friends) sold stuff at the LCIMC Spectacular Concert on Saturday night and then opened up the souvenir stand at the festival in the park on Sunday morning.

The volunteer work doesn’t take much time and it is for a good cause. In case you don’t know, the conference not only brings a several days of great music and artists to the area, but it also brings in hundreds of youngsters from all over the region, nation and hemisphere to learn and practice the art of Mariachi music and Folklorico dance.

As I was working the stand, I had a split second to myself and I thought about what I was doing. I realized that I was doing a good thing. Sure I was having fun and got to hear cool music, but I was helping these kids out. The money we made goes back to the Conference to help it continue next year and the next and the next.

I also volunteer with Mesilla Valley Search and Rescue. We have a meeting once a month and a training session or two every 4 to 6 weeks (although the Dog Team does it every week). On the occasions when we are called out on a search we could be gone for anywhere from 6 hours to 24 hours or more depending on the scope of the mission. In the grand scheme of things that is not really that much time either and we obviously help people.

I want my 10-year-old son to understand this concept. So last Thursday (Search and Rescue meeting night) I told him he needed to go with me. He protested and said he wasn’t really a member because he was too young so he shouldn’t have to attend. I answered by telling him that he helps out with the team by acting as the subject for the dogs to track during practice. I told him that it was only one Thursday a month and that he needed to be there with me.

He went. As it happens, he was also called up in front of the meeting to receive his official Mesilla Valley Search and Rescue badge. Granted, he cannot go on missions and what he can do with the organization is limited by his age, but he still volunteers his time to help train the dogs early Sunday mornings when he can (and trust me – he is NOT a morning person).

Something I would like you to take from the postponement of my blog this week is the fact that we should all volunteer in some capacity. Only volunteer the time you can. Don’t over promise and then not show up. Volunteer for something worthwhile and something that interests you. Volunteer at your church, read a book to children at the library or serve food at a shelter. In my office we have people who champion for the adoption of shelter animals, someone who coaches kids’ soccer, a couple of Search and Rescue guys, church volunteers, political volunteers etc.

Volunteering doesn’t have to be a long term commitment, just pick a Saturday or two during a month when you have time and call up the organization that interests you and see what kind of help they need for that day. If you have two hours to help, tell them you have two hours. They will understand and they will appreciate it.

Trust me. If I can pry myself away from the TV and my son can extract himself from snoozeville to do some volunteer work, I know that you can.

It is good for the community. It is good for the organizations. It is good for your soul.

Until Next Time,
Wayne

IT

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 1 Number 13
IT

IT has been sneaking up on us. IT has been quietly waiting in the bushes around our late-summer watering hole. IT has been lying there patiently until we were relaxed and unaware of what was watching us. Without even so much as a growl IT has jumped upon us. We are unable to fight IT so we might as well surrender to IT. The Holiday Season is upon us!

My first realization should have been that I was making a Halloween costume for the boy (that was this past Wednesday – remember). That didn’t register, because I was so busy. The fact that I caught a cold on Tuesday was the real indicator that IT was here.

Today I am at the office as the production staff works on a Holiday publication we are putting out. Somewhere in my pea-brain, through the NyQuil induced mental fog a little Christmas light is starting to shine through. I would jump with glee, but the cold and the over the counter remedies have left me a bit weak.

But, now that I think of it, why in hell would I jump with glee? I am in no way, shape or form ready for the Holiday Season! Are you? Well, we better get that way! IT is here! In 18 days it will be Thanksgiving – can we still say that word? Really. Is it now referred to as Festival of Fall or Harvest Day or Turkey Death Day or what? I just do not know what I am allowed to say anymore.

What about the biggie coming up (dare I say it?)? Shhhhhhhhh. Christmas is only 51 days away. Frankly, I say CHRISTMAS and I am proud to say it. I don’t know why some people (an actual minority in this country) are offended by it. So I will say it loud and proud! CHRISTMAS!!

In the America in which I grew up, the Holiday Season (a blanket title used only to collect all the biggies under a two word umbrella) was a time of peace and joy. IT was a time of giving and togetherness. Lately IT seems to have become a time of bickering and hatefulness.

Last Wednesday (October 31^st), as I tried to get around the Lohman construction mess, I drove past a school. All of the children were outside playing at recess and not one was in any sort of Halloween costume. Poor little twerps! That was one of the best days of school when I was a kid. You got to go to school dressed as a cowboy or an astronaut or a princess or a ghost. You got to go classroom trick or treating. It was an awesome day. Now it is just a random Wednesday because someone will be offended.

I remember around Thanksgiving we all made Pilgrim hats and Indian (I’m sorry) Native American headdresses. We learned how the Indi…er Native Americans helped the Pilgrims with their crops and everyone sat down and feasted and gave thanks for such a bountiful harvest. Now we are supposed to be apologizing for the conquering the new world. I’m sorry. Are we the only sovereign nation that has to continue to apologize for building a country? I know ugly things happened, but it has been a couple hundred some-odd years. I still like to give thanks that we have made it this far and that for all its faults we live in the greatest country on the planet. Plus, I love the skin off the Turkey. MMMMMMMMMM!

What about Christmas? 86% of the citizens of the United States of America say that they believe in God. There you go majority wins! That doesn’t mean other religions are wrong or bad. I just think it means that you can put on a Christmas concert or Christmas sale or Christmas benefit if you want.

I don’t know why celebrating the birth of a savior would be offensive to anyone. I am really trying to wrap my mind around how that might offend. I guess I am too stupid. No other religion’s holiday offends me. I guess I am too stupid again.

Someone who is not stupid is Ben Stein and I am going to include something he said on CBS Sunday Morning (my girlfriend’s favorite show). He articulates it all much better than I can, because he is not riddled with ADD.

Confessions for the Holidays – Ben Stein – December 18, 2005

Herewith at this happy time of year, a few confessions from my beating heart:

I have no freaking clue who Nick and Jessica are. I see them on the cover of People and Us constantly when I am buying my dog biscuits and kitty litter. I often ask the checkers at the grocery stores. They never know who Nick and Jessica are either. Who are they? Will it change my life if I know who they are and why they have broken up? Why are they so important? I don't know who Lindsay Lohan is, either, and I do not care at all about Tom Cruise's wife.

Am I going to be called before a Senate committee and asked if I am a subversive? Maybe, but I just have no clue who Nick and Jessica are. Is this what it means to be no longer young. It's not so bad.

Next confession: I am a Jew, and every single one of my ancestors was Jewish. And it does not bother me even a little bit when people call those beautiful lit up, bejeweled trees Christmas trees. I don't feel threatened. I don't feel discriminated against. That's what they are: Christmas trees. It doesn't bother me a bit when people say, "Merry Christmas" to me. I don't think they are slighting me or getting ready to put me in a ghetto. In fact, I kind of like it. It shows that we are all brothers and sisters celebrating this happy time of year. It doesn't bother me at all that there is a manger scene on display at a key intersection near my beach house in Malibu. If people want a crèche, it's just as fine with me as is the Menorah a few hundred yards away.

I don't like getting pushed around for being a Jew and I don't think Christians like getting pushed around for being Christians. I think people who believe in God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period. I have no idea where the concept came from that America is an explicitly atheist country. I can't find it in the Constitution and I don't like it being shoved down my throat.

Or maybe I can put it another way: where did the idea come from that we should worship Nick and Jessica and we aren't allowed to worship God as we understand Him?

I guess that's a sign that I'm getting old, too. But there are a lot of us who are wondering where Nick and Jessica came from and where the America we knew went to.

So anyway, I say feel free to wish anyone and everyone Merry Christmas this year. If they get offended it is their loss: they have lost the good intentions and the peace and the joy you were bestowing upon them. Remember, if someone wishes you a Happy (insert name of holiday you do not necessarily celebrate here) remember to say thank you and feel blessed that they are bestowing upon you the same happiness that you are trying to spread with your words of Merry Christmas.

Until Next Time,
Wayne

Oh The Wonderful Crap I Have Found

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 1 Number 12
Oh The Wonderful Crap I Have Found

If you have been following this blog you already know that recently my girlfriend moved in with me, I had a garage sale (argh) and then my son moved in with me - all in that order.

Well, within the past 10 days we have finally gotten the house straightened up. Everyone’s stuff is commingled; new pictures (from the girlfriend’s house) are hung where my seemingly tasteless art used to be, room for the boy’s everyday stuff has been made, a multiplication table progress chart has been hung in the dining room, etc.

Only one place has been ignored. My place. My sanctuary. My Fortress of Solitude. My garage.

During the last month and a half my garage has become a pile of crap that didn’t fit in the house or crap that was no longer appropriate for the house or just crap. Envision the trash compactor scene from Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope and you will know exactly how I spent my Sunday afternoon.

I had to pile stuff up on one side of the garage to make sense out of the other side in order to take the stuff I just piled up and put it away on the side I just cleaned. My girlfriend would come out and check on my progress then leave with a grunt saying that it looked like it was getting worse. To the untrained eye I can understand how it looked that way, but to me progress was visible even as I piled crap higher and higher.

Rest assured, I finally conquered the seemingly unconquerable. During that conquest I uncovered treasures (or crap – depending upon your point of view) that you would not get to see if you stopped by because they have all been packed away. Actually, many people would say that these things could have gone to the trash, goodwill or recycling – but I just CANNOT part with them.

The following is a partial list of such items.

• A t-shirt autographed by Billy Idol - how could I possibly part with that?
• 22 different screws to possibly 22 different things – I may need them!
• A broken goalie stick given to me by a former El Paso Buzzard – can you say home invasion defense?
• A ½ inch auger bit that has a 12-inch shank on it – hey I may one day NEED to make a ½ inch hole in something that happens to be 12 inches away.
• A broken, metal, Brady Bunch lunch box – I keep it for three reasons – MARCIA, MARCIA, MARCIA!
• 10 Zippo lighters – I will one day remember to buy flint and fluid!
• A Marlboro flip-top box autographed by Jake and Elwood Blues from the Blues Brothers Road Show – I ended up having beers with those fellas three years after the autograph, gotta keep it.
• 3 U-Haul boxes – of course I flattened them and stashed them I may have to store more stuff in the future.
• Various electronic cords and wires – they went in the various electronics cords and wires drawer.
• My rolling laundry hamper – it falls apart every time I use it, but now that I have a workspace I can glue and reinforce it.
• 7 notebooks full of slides and negatives – these are not even mine, they belong to a friend’s Mom and I told her I would sort them for her (I am half-way done).
• My bowling ball – it hasn’t seen a lane in years, but it may again some day.
• My golf clubs – same as above but substitute fairway for lane.
• Various magazines autographed by a Playboy model – would you throw that away?
• A dismantled Pioneer SA-608 Stereo Amplifier (circa 1977) – I was cleaning all of the contacts and switches inside. I hope I remember how to put it back together, because it rocks!
• My vintage Shure microphone – it still works but it is quite temperamental.

Well that is just a partial list, but I just wanted to illustrate the wonderful crap I found today. As I picked some of the stuff up, I would hold it in my hand and recall the wheres, the whens and the whos. It was quite an exciting romp through my garage and through my memories.

Until Next Time,
Wayne

Father-Dad

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 1 Number 11
Father-Dad

Well, it has been a while since I last blogged. Again, that just sounds so digestive, yuck! Quite a bit has happened since then. Well, I guess not really a lot of stuff, but just one MAJOR thing has happened since then.

I became a Father again!

No, no, no! The girlfriend and I did not conceive. I became a Father again because my ten-year-old son decided to move from his Mother’s house in Alamogordo, to mine here in the city of the crosses.

I was a Father once: from the time the boy was born until the day I moved out of the house he, his Mother and I shared. In the seven years since that day I have been a Weekend-Dad. Actually, I was an every Weekend-Dad (except for a few when there were plans for other activities on his part or mine).

He has been toying with the idea for about six months and finally last Sunday night he had a conversation with his Mother that ended with the decision that I was to pick him up the next night to move over.

That quick decision was what threw me into the Father mode so quickly that I am relatively sure I suffered from whiplash or even a minor concussion. It was not a difficult transition, nor an unwanted change; it was just so immediate that everyone had to shift gears like a dragster driver.

During the years of being a Weekend-Dad the majority of the time was spent having fun. Many Mothers across the nation really despise this, because we Weekend-Dads always got to goof off with the children while the Mothers dragged kids out of bed, to and from school and whatnot. Frankly, I don’t think it is the fault of the Weekend-Dad. It is just how things work out. School and work (for most of society) are during the week. I didn’t design things that way; it is just the way they are.

Weekends and Weekend-Dads are built for fun (especially if the child lives in another town). The weekends have the majority of the sporting events to attend. Can anyone say 25 cent hot dog night at Cohen Stadium!? Yummy! Car shows are on the weekends; fairs and carnivals are on the weekend.

Only on a Saturday or a Sunday do you have enough time to set up Hot Wheels Track running from the back of the garage to the end of the driveway, race 200+ cars down it in multiple heats, declare a final overall winner, clean it all up then go to dinner, a movie and the ice cream shop!

On the weekend, there is plenty of time to go climb rocks at the base of the Organs, drive up to the Butte to drown some worms or even just go to the park to throw the football around.

Being a Father during the week is different. Wake up, feed, drop off at school, go work, pick up from school, take home, feed again, help with homework, feed again, bathe, tuck into bed. These are the things we do. Just like the Mothers did the whole time. The difference is that since we are Dads/Fathers we are a special kind of stupid and we seem to be able to turn most of that into fun and therefore we love doing it all.

Nothing against Mothers…nothing at all. It is due to what all of you women have said about us men from the very beginning. We are just little boys in grown up bodies. Waking up turns to a tickle fest and the winner (the Dads) carry the loser to the bathroom so they can shower. It takes time, but it is fun. Driving to school can be a secret spy mission or a trip in a rocket destined for the Planet S’COOL. Feeding turns into some grand cooking show with the kids as the celebrity guest whom we will teach to make pepper steak and noodles.

A lot of the fun that Weekend-Dads who are turned into Weekday-Fathers have during the routine, mundane, daily grind with our children is due to the fact that for so many years we have missed that stuff. First days of school, A’s on spelling tests, studying multiplication tables are things that we missed simply because they happened during the week.

I am the happiest man alive since my son moved in. We will get all of the required stuff done, I promise you. In addition to all the work that we will have I also promise that Hot Wheels will be rollin’, ice cream will be eaten and truckloads of fun will be had!

Until Next Time,
Wayne

Wayne's Not Here!

I know you’ve been waiting for Wayne to update his blog, but since he is taking his sweet time getting to it. No really, this has been a hectic week for all of us here. Wayne promises to have a new blog over the weekend. So for now you have me. Let me introduce myself, I am one of Wayne’s female coworkers, also an ADD candidate. My attention span is much shorter than Wayne’s. Oh look a shiny thing…..

Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin' into the future

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 1 Number 10
TIME KEEPS ON SLIPPIN’, SLIPPIN', SLIPPIN' INTO THE FUTURE

I am sitting here looking at this 20 inch monitor with a blank Microsoft Word page beaming radiation into my eyes and epidermis. Maybe it would help if, during the week, I would plan what I was going to write in this thing. I haven’t been able to. Oh, sure I come up with seemingly great ideas as I drive around the city of crosses all day, but they end up being thoughts shoved out of my brain by some idiotic driver trying to merge into my car.

As is the case with most people in today’s world I am quite busy. Actually I think the majority of us are not really busy we just say that we are so that more of the lima beans of life are not piled onto our plates. I once saw a Beetle Bailey comic strip wherein Beetle carried a clipboard throughout so Sarge would think he was too busy to be the recipient of his gripes and beatings. It worked. Sarge didn’t even approach him.

We all seem so busy and I think we subconsciously equate that with being successful. Even though that is probably a very accurate observation, it doesn’t pass the litmus test when you say it out loud and really ponder it. If you are too busy to squeeze in things that are necessary for your continued success are you then not indeed failing? Wouldn’t the most successful people be the least busy because they are so capable that they have conquered that Goliath known as time? Being a success would then lead me to believe that one would have time to do anything one wants.

“Man, I have so much on my plate right now.” – If it was your dinner plate I’m sure you would find room.

“I’m double-booked through next Tuesday.” – Double-booked? You’re not only a failure, but a moron. Any idiot can read a day-planner and know if there is something already there something else cannot be put there without erasing.

“Not right now, kids. Maybe tomorrow.” – Let’s all take a minute to think and cry about that one. Tomorrow they will already be moved out and in college half-way across the country.

What a bunch of failures we are.

With all the technological advances we have made we still cannot seem to beat time. We have DVRs so we can watch television when we want and even faster than if we watched it in “real-time” (no commercials makes ½ hour sit-com become 22 minute sitcom).

With the internet what isn’t faster? Research – done: no more library trips (actually that is kind of sad). Letter to Aunt JoAnne – done: no longer does a letter sit on the desk for two weeks waiting for you to buy a stamp and then taking another week to get to its destination.

Cell phones have put us in touch AT ALL TIMES and still, how often has someone said “I would have called, but I didn’t have time.” Maybe they would have had time to text – ARGH! (See last week’s Words)

Your computer makes written work faster. No more jammed keys of a typewriter, rewinding the ribbon because you didn’t have a new one or using that weird eraser with a brush on the opposite end because a computer does it all for you. Trust me, if these Words were done on a typewriter you MIGHT get them every two or three weeks.

When they were being introduced, all of these devices were touted as the next big thing to help us get our time back. Time with our families, time to volunteer, time for recreation, time for relaxation, time to travel and time to learn and expand our minds were all the things we were going to get back with these devices. Unfortunately they seem to have just allowed us to squeeze more stuff in. Probably stuff we didn’t need to squeeze in.

I am not saying that responsibility should be shirked and that things should be done half-assed or not at all. I am just saying that we need to (for lack of a better cliché) stop and smell the roses. I always tell the boy that one of our family rules is “work hard and then play hard.” I hope that he gets it. I am finally starting to.

Now that I think about it, the reason I didn’t have a topic as I sat down was because I HAVE been busy. Happily, I used my time in the good way. I am getting better at it I think. Using my time wisely, I mean.

The other day I found myself reading a book: not as I drifted off to sleep, but in the middle of the day. Last night the girlfriend and I had plans, but instead we sat for hours with some friends talking and laughing about absolutely nothing. This past Saturday the girlfriend, the dog, the boy and I all walked up to the park and threw the football around and played on the swings and monkey bars. The boy and I also made chicken vegetable soup from scratch that night. Everyday on my way to work I stop by and visit with my Mom for awhile. Last week I forced a buddy of mine to break away from his computer screen and go to lunch with me and we just laughed and laughed the whole time.

Those are the times I work so hard for and, oddly, they were there all along. In the past I thought I was just too busy.

I was talking to a friend the other day and he asked me how I found the time for all the things I do.

I didn’t have to FIND it - the time was already there.

Until Next Time,
Wayne

4 My GF Hope 2 TTYL. ROFLMAO!

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 1 Number 9
4 My GF Hope 2 TTYL. ROFLMAO!

OK. I wasn’t going to broach this subject, but I just cannot hold out any longer.

I am indeed a lover of technology. I am also a lover of science fiction which is where you so often see into our technological future. I recall great sci-fi shows from my childhood depicting characters communicating with each other from anywhere using a transceiver that clipped onto their belts (Kirk to Enterprise!). Suddenly! Boom! Cellular phones that are smaller than my hand are ubiquitous.

I also remember reading books when I was younger that would describe volumes of literature and music contained in one little hand-held device and then, seemingly, in a blink of an eye… Hello iPod et al. Oh the wondrous things that science fiction foresaw: TVs as flat as the wall, moving sidewalks, on-board computers with live maps of the planet you traveled, lasers that cut through things. Now, I know we cannot yet beam across the planet nor do we have flying cars (dammit!), but so much of that early science fiction predicted the technological wonders that we have today.

There is one technological phenomenon that I do not recall the great science fiction writers predicting and it is the bane of my existence. Text Messaging!

I cannot believe this stuff. Text-messaging is everywhere! Mostly used by the younger crowd, especially on the female side of the aisle, it is stripping away our ability to effectively communicate verbally. There is just no need to talk anymore. I asked “a friend” why she didn’t call the recipient of her text and she responded by telling me that she really didn’t want to talk to her. Uh…what? I took the conversation further by asking the subject of her text (to the person to whom she did not want to talk). She told me she was just wondering how her friend’s day went. Uh…Double-what?!?! My girlfriend even has a friend who seems to never answer her phone if someone calls her. If you text her, however, she sends a reply text within 3.2 seconds. Uh…Triple-what?!?! Is it that much of a bother to verbalize and truly interact with other people? I guess it is.

Texting is also destroying the written word. As I have said before, I am not the best at grammar, spelling and sentence structure, but still I try. With texting there is no try, there is only do not. We have all seen the commercials wherein the mother is ripping the kid a new one for her texting habits and the little girl answers only in abbreviations. Argh! I would love to tell that kid NPFTM (no phone for three months), maybe she would understand it if presented that way. In addition, words now have numbers in th3m for no apparent reason. What the hell? Why would it be easier to put a 3 in a word than an E? When did the word “later” acquire the “letter” 8?!?! Maybe it is just supposed to be cute. Who knows?

The worst part about the texting population is WHERE they do it. I get texts that say “I’m just driving right now.” No you are not you are texting right now! You are looking at the little window on your mobile device rather than looking out the BIG window of your vehicle. “I am in a meeting and we are discussing the company’s P&L. What are you up to?” Really?! Shouldn’t you be paying attention to that meeting? To that class? To that debate? To that sermon? What are you doing? Stop texting!!! At least stop during those other events in your life to which you should really be paying attention. I once discovered a girl texting…while I was making out with her. (ed. note. Don’t worry, it was a couple years ago, honey.) We were in the throes of passion (or at least I was) and she was texting someone. Don’t even get me started on people texting each other while less than 3 feet apart!

I understand that texting does have its place and that it can be a useful tool. I also understand that for some reason people can say things in print or text that they are uncomfortable saying out loud. It’s just that it has gotten to the point that people are so rude about it. They probably aren’t even aware that they are being rude – they probably just think they are multi-tasking. Well, more times than not multi-tasking just ends up being multi-ignoring!

Until Next Time,
Wayne

PS Thanks to my girlfriend and my son (who are both wonderful) I now have unlimited text on MY phone. I had to do it. I was getting charged up the wazoo for the incoming text messages I was receiving. I am now learning to type a text response in less than 20 minutes and I am using the texts wisely. At least I am trying to. If you can’t beat ‘em, text ‘em. But at least do it on your own terms.

Garage Sale!

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 1 Number 8
Garage Sale

Women can get you to do just about anything.

So I did it again. I had a garage sale.

8 years ago I vowed to myself to never have another one! I must say, however, that this weekend’s sale was a lot more profitable and a lot more fun than the one in 1999. I don’t know why it was more profitable. My crap wasn’t any better this time than my 1999 crap and the customers were sure NOT willing to pay more than they were back then. I do know it was more fun because of my partner in crime.

The need to get rid of some crap came up because I asked my girlfriend to move in with me and for some reason she actually said yes. She is a fool. So, anyway we had doubles of a lot of crap and a lot of crap for which we didn’t have room. The garage sale came up because my girlfriend said we should have one and for some reason I said yes. I am a fool.

Have you ever prepared for one of these things? We spent all week getting ready. We gathered crap, sorted crap and stored crap. We were constantly singing the Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go in our heads about some of the crap we weren’t sure about. We argued a tiny bit about crap. It was kind of a crappy week. Ha, ha.

I even went to the trouble of going to get hangers from the dry cleaners (Thanks Comet!) to hang all of the clothing up so people could go through it easier. I borrowed a round retail clothing rack from a friend (Thanks to The Gen) so I wouldn’t have to hang all the clothes across my garage door opening on a rope.

We decided the night before the sale to price the furniture and small crap on the table (candlesticks, walkmans, etc.) and we made a large poster sized price list for the clothing on the rack. We also spent Friday evening (prior to the big day) rearranging the garage itself so that we could pull the stuff into the driveway in order so it would be arranged all nice and neat. We are fools.

We might as well have thrown all the crap into the driveway at 7am and let the people dig through the pile until they found something they liked and told them to tell us how much they wanted to pay for it. They didn’t care about prices. They didn’t care about how neatly it was displayed. They only cared about the fact that they wanted it and only wanted to pay a quarter for it.

Many people have told me that the haggling is the best part of the garage sale experience. Those people are fools. I can kind of understand not wanting to pay a whole fifty dollars for a sofa (what were we thinking), but the clothing buyers were the folks that really irked me!

We had my girlfriend’s Tommy Hilfiger, barely worn jeans marked at a buck or two. These jeans cost anywhere from 60 to 100 bucks a pair. “Pagaré cincuenta centavos para este!” I don’t think I understand garage sale-ese so I said ok and the lady gave me 50 cents! What the hell? It was not an isolated incident either; it kept happening over and over. Finally I gave up and made a sign that I stuck to the rack that read “All clothes on rack 50 cents each.” It was quite funny how everyone who moments before could not – (say it like Chris Tucker with me) “unnerstand the words that were comin’ out of my mouf” could suddenly read English! What quick studies they were.

Now that we have sold the extra couches and tables for next to nothing, my suits for 50 cents each, name brand purses for 25 cents (I don’t know if they were Coach but they were fancy) and a whole slew of our other belongings for nickels and dimes - I am just happy it’s over. I guess it wasn’t all bad; we did deal in volume so we made a few hundred dollars off of several thousand dollars worth of our crap. I guess that’s something.

We also got to work on a project together. That is really the cool part, the togetherness, the “us against them” feeling. Then after the whole thing was done, we decided on spending more time together and blew our profits on dinner. We are fools.

Until Next Time,
Wayne

Public Potty

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 1 Number 7
Public Potty

I was at Wally World today. Argh! I have a love/hate relationship with that store.

I love the World because it has most things I need in one stop and of course, really good prices. Today I was looking for wire hangers (sorry Mommy Dearest). And as much as I love those two facts about the World - and most other, how you say, box stores - I hate them with a red hot passion! So much I try my best not to go there, but alas, I do.

To be honest, the source of my hatred is NOT the stores, selection or prices. It is the people! Before you say “amen, I have problems with the employees at those places myself,” bite your tongue! I am talking about the other people…us, the idiotic box store shopping public.

Son of a gun! Are we all not the worst people in the world? Not because we want to save money, not because we want to one-stop-shop – in fact, those two reasons make us good, financially responsible people. The reason we box store shoppers are the worst people in the world is because we are the biggest pigs ever! We are so vile!

I have seen the writing on the bathroom wall and it is scrawled in feces! I hate to be disgusting, but it is true! Do NOT for one minute blame it on the employees. Trust me, I have had to cross my legs and do the pee-pee dance for quite awhile while the janitorial staff attended to the facilities; I HAVE witnessed staff members cleaning them! It is like customers see the word “public restroom” on a sign, just walk in and let loose. How difficult is it to flush?!?! For that matter, how hard is it to actually go inside the bowl or urinal?? Can you dispose of the TP and the paper towels properly? And who in hell goes in and just starts breaking things? Idiots! Guys, you know what I mean on this one….who in hell is standing at the urinal and at the same time picking a nose goblin only to leave it on the wall you get to stare at when you come in to let the juice loose? COME ON!!!!!!!

This is by no means isolated to the Wally World toilets. That is just the most recent occurrence in my life. I have come across this disgusting phenomenon in other stores, theaters and even restaurants. It is true of the many of the public restrooms in this city, nay in this country!

Is this all the doing of just one slob that goes around to all the public restrooms wreaking havoc on the poor unsuspecting stalls that wait there patiently for the public to use? No! We need to ALL be held accountable and we ALL need to do something about it. Please, don’t pick up other people’s crap (no pun intended), but I beg you to be responsible for your own.

It is not that hard to do. I’ll bet we all do it at home. Use tissue! Flush! Wash! Dry! Dispose! Walk Out! If we each did this I bet we would all be happier (and YES I do clean up after myself in those situations)! I bet the janitorial staff would be REALLY happy, because then they would only have to clean the bathrooms rather than scour them like they were porcelain and tile versions of Karen Silkwood.

Suspend for just a moment the reality that there is a binary bathroom situation in public and imagine if your Grandmother was going to go in and use the facilities right after you were finished. Would you make sure you cleaned up your own mess a little better? Of course you would.

Maybe Senator Larry Craig IS innocent. Maybe his “wide stance” was due to the fact that he was trying to keep his feet out of someone else’s filth on the public restroom floor.

Probably not, but maybe.

Until Next Time,
Wayne

PS While we are on this crappy subject; if anyone needs a poopy baby diaper, just go look in ANY parking lot in Las Cruces and I am sure you will find at least one. My car’s rear passenger tire did!! Gross, people!!!!!

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig!

WAYNE’S WORDS

Volume 1 Number 6
Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig!

Well, I am back from Beaumont, TX. Nothing really crazy happened there.

It was pretty normal except for a few items:

• My eyeball nearly exploded out of my skull during our descent into Houston,
• My boss and I (both of us in Search & Rescue, mind you) got lost on some very scary backstreets in Beaumont while using a GPS navigation system (when those things state that the street is unrecognized – be afraid),
• Trying to figure out the difference between a rown-daig, a hoe-laig and a regg-laig as the Cajun girl at the Mickey Dee’s drive-thru window tried to tell us something regarding our breakfast order – our final response was “um, ok,”
• Walking out of any given air-conditioned building or car in the Beaumont area and being temporarily blinded because my sunglasses fogged up,
• Nearly being murdered by my boss (and possibly other hotel guests) because my snoring was louder than any grizzly on “When Animals Attack,”
• And finally, multiple near-death experiences while riding around with the Beaumont office’s staff – those people drive like – there is no description except OHMIGAWD LOOKOUT!

As is the case with most business trips – the return home was a beautiful thing. You get back to your pets, loved ones and as far as the business part goes, you get back to your home office.

Ah, the home office, where you have the love and admiration of your peers.

Ah, the home office, where you know they will glad to see you upon your return.

Would you like to see how I was welcomed back to work by my loving colleagues?

That is me (notice the "I'm-so-hated-here-posture) next to the entry into my cubicle. The sign actually reads "We missed you!"Jackasses!

That is me inside my cubicle! Jackasses!

That is the view from above my cubicle - that crap is nearly five and a half feet deep AND covers the entire area! Jackasses!

Seven lawn and leaf bags, a good sized box and one hour later! Jackasses!

I guess Thomas Wolfe was right, "You can't go home again!"

I missed you all too. Jackasses!

Until Next Time,
Wayne

Nothing

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 1 Number 5
Nothing.

What to say? What to say? I don’t know

It is time for another installment of this little thing and I am actually at a loss for words; a loss for Wayne’s Words.

You suck, Wayne. How hard can it be to come up with something to write about in a week?

It doesn’t seem like it would be difficult, but it is sometimes. Over the past week I have thought of many things to write about, but I am just not “feeling it” for any of those topics. Now I sit down to the keyboard and nothing really comes forth and my mind wanders (due to the ADD with which I am afflicted).

I am leaving for Beaumont, Texas in just a couple of hours. Wee! I am traveling to hurricane alley during the height of the season and… it will just be hot and hellishly muggy.

Las Cruces, however is supposed to get a little hurricane action as soon as I leave. I have seen this one spelled three different ways on different web news sites. It is Henrietta, Henriette or Henriett. I am not sure which is actually right, but the City of the Crosses should see a little of it while I am in Texas.

Again my mind wanders… “One foot on the brake, one on the gas” The lyrics to Sammy Hagar’s I Can’t Drive 55 keep coursing through my pea brain. I must have heard it earlier today. I wonder if Sammy is happy these days since the speed limit is usually 75 mph. I think he is probably still unable to maintain and observe the appropriate speed limit. Some people are never satisfied.

“And we danced, like a wave on the ocean. Romanced, we were liars in love” Now what? The Hooters And We Danced lyrics are now rattling around. I know I didn’t hear that one today. Were they clever with their little fancy name - The Hooters? Why are they not the house band at that sports bar with the cleavage? Is that just too obvious? I think not. I bet they would do anything for a gig now. I know they took their name from a nickname for the melodica, a type of keyboard harmonica which is German in origin and made by Hohner and as much as I liked their songs (they were catchy), I am now wondering if The Hooters weren’t just a bunch of boobs?

Is Happy Days available on DVD yet? I miss that show. It was actually a nice half hour of fun. It was pretty wholesome and honesty and integrity always ended up winning out in the end, even for Fonzie who was a hoodlum that grew and matured to finally be a business owner. If, today, we would just remember the words of wisdom often voiced by Al Delvecchio, “Chachi, Chachi, Chachi,” all of our problems would be solved.

Chachi, Chachi, Chachi – so true, Al, so true.

Crap, I gotta go catch a plane.

Until Next Time,
Wayne

Hike!

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 1 Number 4
Hike!

I had lunch with a couple of the Big Heads today.

Oh… sorry. Big Heads is what my core group of friends and I have called our collective self since college. Actually we have all known at least one other member of the Big Heads since grade school, but in college we decided (probably during some beer influenced conversation) to give ourselves a name. The name has also been somewhat perverted over the years by various individuals. One of the Big Heads actually referred to us as the Super Friends one night after one too many beers. My mother has always, inexplicably referred to us as the Round Heads. And recently a co-worker of mine made mention of my friends by asking me about the Fat Heads. Anyway, we are the Big Heads whether we like it or not.

I had lunch with a couple of the Big Heads today and at one point the topic of conversation turned to football. A couple of us are joining a Fantasy Football League because our (the Big Heads’) league disbanded last year. ARGH!

Man, I was sad that day. We had our Hibachi Football League for 16 or 17 years. We even had a traveling, miniature replica of the Lombardi Trophy that was made out of dental gold (thanks Dr. Hadley). Our league was around before you could go online and instantly get stats and info and such – we actually used newspapers and figured all the stuff out ourselves. We had a simple yet competitive system, but it worked and we liked it.

As Big Heads started moving away one of us poor saps would be appointed commissioner and that sucker would research, layout, publish and mail the scores and stats to every Hibachi team owner by Tuesday morning. It was hard work and a little time consuming, but it sure was fun. It was also a great way to keep in touch with all of the Big Heads.

Then the internet and ubiquitous access to same exploded onto the scene. Was the HFL gonna be awesome now or what? Or what! For some reason, even with access to everything instantaneously (including an HFL website) the majority of the Big Heads suddenly didn’t have time and the league evaporated.

Here is the eMail I sent out to the Big, Round, Super, Fat Head Friends last year when I found out the league was about to be no more.

WARNING: The following is an eMail rant so read at your own risk – you may actually get offended…or not.

Things [our fantasy football league] seemed to be perceived as so much easier (and there seemed to be so much more interest) before the Internet. I personally like the web based action [of our fantasy football league] and like the way it works, but then again I have no life and it is part of what I look forward to every year. Let me know what is up. I would hate to see this die, but I guess there are other fantasy football clubs out there. It was cool that ours was one of the longest running [16 or 17 years!]. Maybe all good things come to an end. Gosh I hope not. How come this feels like a marriage dying? Cheating b****es!! LOL I'm funneeee I make at least me laugh. Hello? Is this thing on??? I wish I was as funny as you guys. Maybe I should wax my body. Wax on Wax off. I miss Mr. Miagi or whatever his name was. He was great on Happy Days. Ralph Malph really did "still got it." Man he was the bee's knees. He was no Potsie, but then again who would wanna be. If you wannabe my lover better check...I wish the Spice Girls had never happened. Whadda pain in my a**. Trying to decide which Spice Girl was the hottest one. That "Baby Spice" kind of disturbed me. Maybe she should have called herself "Private College-Girl Spice" at least it wouldn't be such a pedophile-esque feeling for those who thought she was the hot one...gross. Wonder how old I will live to be? I hope really old so I can b***h a lot and people will say how cute he is when he doesn't get his prunes. I hate prunes. Man I gotta poop. Poop. What a fun word. Not as fun as pooper or even pooper-scooper. Alice Cooper was really cool in concert last night. [ed. Note I had obviously just seen Alice Cooper the Night before] Doesn't anybody wanna come out and play??

This whole thing (I just realized) is less about Fantasy Football and more about a commodity that is in high demand: time. We only have so much of it and once it has passed we cannot get it back. And for such a valuable commodity it is probably the most wasted.

Make sure to take time each day to communicate with the people you care about. Take time to call an old friend just to tell them the fantasy team they had sucked. Take time to send an eMail to your buddy (no "stoopid" forwards without a personalized reason for sending it) about, heck I don’t know, how danged hot it is today.

The reason or the content matters so much less than the time you took to communicate with them. Your friends and family (near and far) are all that really count and if you cannot squeeze a few moments out of your oh-so-important and busy schedule then…well, I don’t know… good luck.

Until Next Time,
Wayne

PS You want homework? Go call an old friend you haven’t spoken to in years…it’ll be neat.

Serenity

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 1 Number 3
Serenity

You may or may not know that I am a huge fan of Joss Whedon’s Firefly and Serenity. I love this series and subsequent movie, partially because I have always liked science fiction and partially because I enjoy character and plot driven TV and movies.

What a great diversion from daily life this series (including the movie) was. Adventure, spaceships, gunfights, horses, concubines and monsters: everything a growing boy loves. It’s a story that truly takes me to places I have always wanted to go (space, other planets) alongside people I would love to know (Mal Reynolds, Zoe, Wash, Inara, Kaylee, Jayne, Simon, River, etc.) to battle bad guys who are easy to hate.

I actually didn’t sit down to tell you of my geeky love for this sci-fi series that was all but killed by the execu-dorks at FOX TV, but to introduce you to an email that I found rather funny. (By the way, The collector’s edition of Serenity was just released… go buy it and Firefly if you do not already own them – Can’t Stop The Signal!)

Anyway this email starts with Serenity and is quickly twisted and perverted from there…

eMail #1 (sent out to this gentleman’s entire contact list)

>Subject: serenity dvd
>
>
> I have a copy of Serenity wide screen DVD still in the wrapper that I would
> like to sell. Best Buy and Amazon currently sell it for $14.99. I'd be
> more than happy to let it go for $10 bucks. [editor’s note: this guy better be selling this
> dvd so he can go purchase the Collector’s Edition right away]
>
> Anyone interested?

eMail #2 (responding to the previous gentleman’s entire contact list)

> I love that movie Serendipity, John Cusack is cool so is Kate Beckinsale.
> It's hard to believe that she played in that Goth flick-I can't remember the
> name of it. Dude, I will give you full retail for that b*st*rd. Just
> kidding. Not interested. Yes I know that is not the same movie.

eMail #3 (responding to the previous gentleman’s entire contact list)

>Serendipity! I'll take that movie; I love the fact that John Cusack always has his sister
>in his movies. Billy if you have any other John Cusack movies let me know. I really like
>the one where he holds up the boom box and asks Molly Ringwald to go to prom and
>she makes a dress with her computer but the dress comes out as a hot chick instead.

Short and sweet. A couple of people took a total of 2 minutes out of their day and made their friends laugh about something stupid. I like that. I like the silly comedy in life. I like it when you feel the weight of… well, everything on your shoulders and you open up an eMail and you can still find yourself able to smile. The dreaded “forwards” in your eMail box sometimes can do it, but the really special instances are those when someone takes a minute to key something in that they know will bring a smile to your face. I don’t know if this did it for you, but it made the people involved in this eMail exchange (and me) laugh.

I hope that someone does it for you and you do it for someone else…..the laughter thing I mean!

Until Next Time,
Wayne

PS The Movies in the eMail exchange in the order of appearance:
1) Serenity (2005)
2) Serendipity (2001)
3) Underworld (2003) and Underworld: Evolution (2006)
4) Say Anything... (1989)
5) Pretty in Pink (1986)
6) Weird Science (1985)

PPS Go buy Firefly and Serenity!!!

50 Dollars

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 1 Number 2
50 Dollars

I was going to title this Wayne’s Words entry “The Best $50 Dollars I Ever Made.” That title, however, would be incorrect, because the best $50 I ever made was the first $50 dollars I ever made. I received it for a hard day of lawn mowing when I lived in Germany when I was a kid.

Today’s $50 is definitely, without a doubt, the coolest $50 dollars I ever made, so far.

The people with whom I work are less like colleagues and more like family. We are always ribbin’ each other and… wait I just received a text message from my boss (I hate texts – that will be another entry). Hang on.

OK it was NOT a text - it was a picture message! It was a picture of a note asking me a question! I shouted my response across two offices (a whole twenty feet) and also stated he was an idiot for taking a picture of a note he had hand written. He said he had done that because he couldn’t text all of those words…

AARRRRGGGGHHH!

That last true-to-life paragraph or two (it REALLY DID just happen) should illustrate what kind of work environment this is. It is silly and fun.

Let’s back to the $50 story…

It all started at our meeting Tuesday morning at 8:30. The six of us were settling in to start the day as we usually do with some coffee, current events, joking around and a little business. When all of the sudden - we’ll call him Carl, yeah Carl – starts jumping up and down and hootin’ and hollerin’ like a kid on Christmas Morning…times 100.

He then ran back to his desk in a blur with papers swirling up toward the ceiling in the turbulence caused by his joy-fueled velocity. The rest of us may have glanced up from our coffee for a split second, for this type of behavior, while particularly intense today, was not too far out of the norm for Carl.

After reaching his desk and returning to the table in that cartoon-like Tasmanian turbulence, his sheer Christmas Morning joy turned to bitter rage. Fury, spit and bits of breakfast flew from his mouth as he cursed …himself.

It seems that his pick three lotto numbers came up! Oh Joy! However, he was holding a six-consecutive-play ticket that he bought the previous Tuesday…and had not renewed. Whammy! So he ferociously wadded up the ticket and threw it away. Was he pissed? Oh boy.

Then we all went back to our coffee and subsequently about our day.

At noon I was telling the story to another co-worker who was not around when all of this happened. While we were laughing at our buddy’s stroke of bad luck a few things kept nagging at me. “I’ll be back,” I said.

Tuesday Morning meeting, Tuesday’s newspaper, purchased last Tuesday, 6 consecutive draws. Hmmmm,

I dug the discarded entry out of the trash and in that impact-printer-lottery-font right on the face of the ticket it stated good for 6 consecutive draws, Tuesday August 7^th through Monday August 13^th.

See, Carl was an idiot on several levels: 1) he didn’t read the ticket, 2) he assumed the 6^th draw was on Sunday (they don’t draw on Sunday because of God), 3)he was reading Tuesday’s paper and thinking Tuesday’s numbers (Monday night’s numbers was the set being reported) and 4) his Tasmanian Devil like reaction to things made him lose sight of the facts and shove the proverbial Bugs Bunny in the trash while stuffing the lit dynamite (his anger) right down his gullet

I took the ticket to the nearest lottery retailer and, after pressing as many of the wrinkles out of it as possible, had it scanned and was informed that I was an $80 winner (it was a boxed ticket for any of you players of the game out there)! The clerk, after loudly exclaiming “HELLO MONTANA” (I’m still not sure what that means) counted off 80 bucks to me and I was on my way. Cha-Ching!

Wayne, you won $80 but said it was the coolest 50 DOLLARS you ever made, you may be thinking at this point. You are right I won $80, but in an effort not to receive bad Karma, I gave Carl $30. Giving him any more than that would have been rewarding his foul behavior while giving him any less would have just been mean.

The moral of the story? Hmmm, how about:

Keep control of your emotions because clear thinking is always profitable.
Or
Recycling Pays!

Until Next Time,
Wayne