I have been thinking.
I know..... shocking, isn't it?
I was feeling reflective again. No, not that kind of reflective. I was just thinking about where I am, where I've been, and the obligatory where I'm going. I do that a lot lately. Like school, being one of the 'now' things. The computer class is going ok but I am really having to work at it. Kind of makes me wonder like the next two will be like. meh. I signed up for it so no complaining allowed. That brings me to my other class this semester.
PhysEd. That is becoming quite the four letter word to me. The workouts are taking longer and longer to recover from. The pain is becoming more and more constant. The numbness in my feet and toes is becoming more persistent. That tells me something is wrong, but I want to finish the class. The instructor left me a note inquiring as to why I have not been doing the abs workouts at the end of class. I have not responded yet. I have the feeling that if I tell her the truth then that might result in bad things. Well, more bad things than are already happening. I guess I will talk with her next week. Hopefully things will be better for the last 3 weeks of class.
With that being said I was browsing the internet the other day and came across a story about Joan Jett and the Blackhearts. It was some listing for an upcoming concert (8 hours from me, I checked). It reminded me of the first concert I ever attended. Care to guess who it was?
Yup. Joan Jett and the Blackhearts with Red Ryder opening for them. We really didn't pay much attention to the opening act. My buddy and I had tickets but they were as far away from the stage as could be while still being inside the civic center. We chatted while Red Ryder played, munched on snacks and sipped at our drinks. When the opening act was done they swapped out the stage.... the lights dimmed as Joan and her group took the stage. They started playing as Joan started the standard glad to be here stuff.
My buddy and I looked at one another and without saying a word jumped up and headed towards the stage, at the other end of the civic center, at a dead run. Just when we got to the stage they broke into "Bad Reputation". The concert was an absolute blast, for a variety of reasons. It was at that moment that I fell in love with Joan Jett. Come on, a rocker chick that looked great doing it. What teenage boy didn't fall in love with her. To this day I am still a huge fan and for the record she still looks great).
Music was such an integral part of our lives in the late 70's and early 80's. That time period produced a large amount of music that spanned an enormous, and highly varied, appetite. It was all there and most every taste was satiated in some fashion. For me it was a little bit of everything. Stuff ranging from Boy George (yes, I said that right) to Judas Priest. I managed to find something that i liked in just about every category. I kept an open mind about it. My mom taught me that.
But then there was Joan Jett. Yes, as I have mentioned, she was a rocker chick. But it was far more than that. The music was a blend if a lot of styles that just seemed to grab me by the head and make me listen. Her voice was different. Honestly, it was sexy and strong all at the same time. Alluring, yet rough and forceful. It was like a feather one moment and a hammer the next, but always at the right time and in the right amount. For the love of all that is holy and right, it is Joan Jett!
Ok, I think you get my point there. But what in the name of the 6th level of Hades does it have to do with anything? A moment of reminiscing is all. A fond memory from by life that I wanted to share. A reminder that not everything in my life has been, or will be, bad. I should be thankful for those times. At least that can never be taken away from me.
Rock on Joan! Rock on!
I now return you to your regularly scheduled internet.
PS: I downloaded "Fit To Be Tied" (JJBH Greatest Hits) to my computer. Bad Reputation is as great today as it was back then. Later taters!
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
The bike, the potato, and the nose. A true love story!
Now or Later.
It used to be the name of one of my favorite sweet treats as a kid. I kind of liked the strawberry ones bu they were all good. As an adult it means a whole host of other things. Of course, we tend to use the word procrastination instead. To be honest though, I am good at it. For example, posting to this blog or doing my essays for school. Either way, I tend to put off til tomorrow what I could do today. I try to tell myself to buckle down and do it. Then I reason myself right out of it. I could offer up some nifty reasons but in the end, they don't really hold water.
So, with all of that being said, let's see what fun I can coax out of the misty blackness of my memories.
Bert. Ayup. One of my best friends growing up. He was a great kid, and none too bright. Well, that's not entirely true. He was a very bright kid, just no real common sense. He was our guinea pig, of sorts. We could talk him in to just about anything. Usually it was because we feared being injured. He was like a Timex watch; he could take a licking and keep on kicking (change intentional).
Oh, where to start at. There are a lot of stories about the hapless childhood of Bert, the neighborhood crash test dummy. Hmmm, the cartoonish tree fall, the plastic garbage bag parachute, the burning britches, the deer + Jack's mom..... and on the list goes. All of those are full of hilarity as well as ample volumes of stupidity and disbelief. But I have one that needs to be told.
The bike, the potato, and the busted nose.
Seems like a rather odd combination. Well, for most mere mortals it would very likely be. For us, not so much so.
One summer day we decided to have a dirt clod war. For those of you not familiar with this childhood warfare it is very simple. Find a plowed field/yard that has been subjected to the perfect amount of moisture and heat (Both of which were very common where I grew up at - not like now). What you end up with is an endless supply of dirt clods of varying size and density. You throw them like baseballs at your opponents. When they hit they explode into a sandy colored cloud, clearly showing when one has been hit. You should be aware that in South Georgia dirt clods came in two varieties.
There was the standard type, usually made up top soil. These were considered the perfect kind. They were not too heavy and did not hurt, much, on impact. We tended to favor these as it did not impede the fun factor by a large amount, unless someone took one to the face. This was rare so we didn't worry too much about it.
Then we had the least favorite type. The ones made up of mostly clay. You see, here in the south we have a large amount of clay, red clay to be specific. This would certainly make a dirt clod (well, technically speaking it would be a clay clod but don't judge) but it was of the type we did not like. Mainly because on impact it did not burst into that beautiful puffy cloud of loose soil. Instead, it was more like getting hit with a rock. Very much like a rock in fact. So we tended to avoid these expect in anger (Remind me to tell you about the infamous Pat/Jamie incident).
So we were having a dirt clod war. We were all having fun when Bert decided to hop on his bike. Now we all made it clear that shots at Bert would be close to the ground. Tires and feet. We were crazy but we really never, ever, set out to really hurt someone. Anyway, Bert goes hauling ass up and down the street while we all take pot shots at him. don't be fooled, he would stop and get some clods of his own and would return fire as he screamed by at the speed of sound.
There were maybe 5 or 6 of us out there that day. The Jody showed up. No one really liked Jody. He was strange. If you had known us back then you would realize that this is saying something when someone was strange by our standards. So he comes out and just joins in. Oh no, we will have none of that. We send him away with some harsh words. Ok, we might have pelted him with a few dirt clods but hey, we were just kids. So Jody goes storming home.
Back to the game. Things were going along smoothly until Jody reappeared. What happened next is still funny to all of us, except maybe Bert, today. I will try to do the scene justice.
A clear summer day, sun shining brightly and hot. Four or five kids, covered in a mixture of sweat and dust, are on the edge of the street in front of my house. Wearing only shorts and shoes we are laughing and chunking dirt clods at the lone kid on the BMX bike. The scrawny, blond, tousle-haired Bert, legs pumping the pedals for all he is worth is screaming down the street past us. On his last pass (yes, we are getting to the point), he looks back over his shoulder to see what we are going to do. Still cruising down the street we all saw Jody appear at his front door. Bert, on the other hand, was still watching us.
Jody was far enough away that we could only tell that he we wound up and threw something in Bert's direction. Here is where it slowed down, just like on television, for most of us. The object, which later turned out to be a raw potato about the size of a baseball, made a perfect arc through the air in front of Bert. Totally oblivious to Jody, and the potato, Bert turned back, to look where he was going.
I am going to say this for all to witness. In all my years of running around that neighborhood; in all the games of baseball, softball, and football; up to this date to also include all of the professional sports I have watched, I have never before, or since, seen a more perfect throw made. The distance, the arc, the timing... absolute perfection if there ever was. Sucked to be Bert that day.
Several things happened in rapid succession. The first, and most important of all, was that the projectile and Bert's nose attempted to occupy the same space at the same time. Instinctively, Berts hands flew to his face. At that same instant, the front tire on the bike began to wobble due to the lack of control of the handlebars. In about three or four seconds the bike was headed in to a shallow ditch, violently throwing Bert to the ground. By the time Bert skidded to a stop, the bike was on top of him and he was screaming in pain. It should be noted that Jody was also back in his house at this point, behind a locked door.
We ran over to him, pulled the bike off of him. There was blood everywhere. We were pretty sure that he was mortally wounded. when Bert finally moved his hands to show us the carnage, the only thing wrong was his busted nose. A busted nose and two black eyes. Bert was mad as hell but all we could do was laugh. Like I said, it was the perfect throw.
It is too bad, really, that the world was not full of video cameras back then. That would have been a perfect Youtube clip. I still wonder how we managed to survive to adulthood. I would also like to be able to tell you that events like this were rare for us. Sadly, they were more the norm.
I would like to thank Bert though. Without him and his fearlessness (or stupidity), my teenage years would not have been nearly as fun.
Thanks Bert!
So this is my post for today. I hope I was able to make at least one of you smile, if not laugh outright. I think I just need to stick to posting stories about events from my childhood. I am always in a much better mood after I do this.
So I am off for. Later taters!
i now return you to your regularly scheduled internet.
It used to be the name of one of my favorite sweet treats as a kid. I kind of liked the strawberry ones bu they were all good. As an adult it means a whole host of other things. Of course, we tend to use the word procrastination instead. To be honest though, I am good at it. For example, posting to this blog or doing my essays for school. Either way, I tend to put off til tomorrow what I could do today. I try to tell myself to buckle down and do it. Then I reason myself right out of it. I could offer up some nifty reasons but in the end, they don't really hold water.
So, with all of that being said, let's see what fun I can coax out of the misty blackness of my memories.
Bert. Ayup. One of my best friends growing up. He was a great kid, and none too bright. Well, that's not entirely true. He was a very bright kid, just no real common sense. He was our guinea pig, of sorts. We could talk him in to just about anything. Usually it was because we feared being injured. He was like a Timex watch; he could take a licking and keep on kicking (change intentional).
Oh, where to start at. There are a lot of stories about the hapless childhood of Bert, the neighborhood crash test dummy. Hmmm, the cartoonish tree fall, the plastic garbage bag parachute, the burning britches, the deer + Jack's mom..... and on the list goes. All of those are full of hilarity as well as ample volumes of stupidity and disbelief. But I have one that needs to be told.
The bike, the potato, and the busted nose.
Seems like a rather odd combination. Well, for most mere mortals it would very likely be. For us, not so much so.
One summer day we decided to have a dirt clod war. For those of you not familiar with this childhood warfare it is very simple. Find a plowed field/yard that has been subjected to the perfect amount of moisture and heat (Both of which were very common where I grew up at - not like now). What you end up with is an endless supply of dirt clods of varying size and density. You throw them like baseballs at your opponents. When they hit they explode into a sandy colored cloud, clearly showing when one has been hit. You should be aware that in South Georgia dirt clods came in two varieties.
There was the standard type, usually made up top soil. These were considered the perfect kind. They were not too heavy and did not hurt, much, on impact. We tended to favor these as it did not impede the fun factor by a large amount, unless someone took one to the face. This was rare so we didn't worry too much about it.
Then we had the least favorite type. The ones made up of mostly clay. You see, here in the south we have a large amount of clay, red clay to be specific. This would certainly make a dirt clod (well, technically speaking it would be a clay clod but don't judge) but it was of the type we did not like. Mainly because on impact it did not burst into that beautiful puffy cloud of loose soil. Instead, it was more like getting hit with a rock. Very much like a rock in fact. So we tended to avoid these expect in anger (Remind me to tell you about the infamous Pat/Jamie incident).
So we were having a dirt clod war. We were all having fun when Bert decided to hop on his bike. Now we all made it clear that shots at Bert would be close to the ground. Tires and feet. We were crazy but we really never, ever, set out to really hurt someone. Anyway, Bert goes hauling ass up and down the street while we all take pot shots at him. don't be fooled, he would stop and get some clods of his own and would return fire as he screamed by at the speed of sound.
There were maybe 5 or 6 of us out there that day. The Jody showed up. No one really liked Jody. He was strange. If you had known us back then you would realize that this is saying something when someone was strange by our standards. So he comes out and just joins in. Oh no, we will have none of that. We send him away with some harsh words. Ok, we might have pelted him with a few dirt clods but hey, we were just kids. So Jody goes storming home.
Back to the game. Things were going along smoothly until Jody reappeared. What happened next is still funny to all of us, except maybe Bert, today. I will try to do the scene justice.
A clear summer day, sun shining brightly and hot. Four or five kids, covered in a mixture of sweat and dust, are on the edge of the street in front of my house. Wearing only shorts and shoes we are laughing and chunking dirt clods at the lone kid on the BMX bike. The scrawny, blond, tousle-haired Bert, legs pumping the pedals for all he is worth is screaming down the street past us. On his last pass (yes, we are getting to the point), he looks back over his shoulder to see what we are going to do. Still cruising down the street we all saw Jody appear at his front door. Bert, on the other hand, was still watching us.
Jody was far enough away that we could only tell that he we wound up and threw something in Bert's direction. Here is where it slowed down, just like on television, for most of us. The object, which later turned out to be a raw potato about the size of a baseball, made a perfect arc through the air in front of Bert. Totally oblivious to Jody, and the potato, Bert turned back, to look where he was going.
I am going to say this for all to witness. In all my years of running around that neighborhood; in all the games of baseball, softball, and football; up to this date to also include all of the professional sports I have watched, I have never before, or since, seen a more perfect throw made. The distance, the arc, the timing... absolute perfection if there ever was. Sucked to be Bert that day.
Several things happened in rapid succession. The first, and most important of all, was that the projectile and Bert's nose attempted to occupy the same space at the same time. Instinctively, Berts hands flew to his face. At that same instant, the front tire on the bike began to wobble due to the lack of control of the handlebars. In about three or four seconds the bike was headed in to a shallow ditch, violently throwing Bert to the ground. By the time Bert skidded to a stop, the bike was on top of him and he was screaming in pain. It should be noted that Jody was also back in his house at this point, behind a locked door.
We ran over to him, pulled the bike off of him. There was blood everywhere. We were pretty sure that he was mortally wounded. when Bert finally moved his hands to show us the carnage, the only thing wrong was his busted nose. A busted nose and two black eyes. Bert was mad as hell but all we could do was laugh. Like I said, it was the perfect throw.
It is too bad, really, that the world was not full of video cameras back then. That would have been a perfect Youtube clip. I still wonder how we managed to survive to adulthood. I would also like to be able to tell you that events like this were rare for us. Sadly, they were more the norm.
I would like to thank Bert though. Without him and his fearlessness (or stupidity), my teenage years would not have been nearly as fun.
Thanks Bert!
So this is my post for today. I hope I was able to make at least one of you smile, if not laugh outright. I think I just need to stick to posting stories about events from my childhood. I am always in a much better mood after I do this.
So I am off for. Later taters!
i now return you to your regularly scheduled internet.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Is it Friday already?
Well, Friday has yet again rolled up on me like an eagle on a trout. The older I get, the faster they get here. It's both good and bad all at the same time. *sigh*
Let us start off with some awards. I am the proud recipient of two.
The first is the Kreativ Blogger award. This is courtesy of Nadja over at Living! with MS. She is such a sweetheart. Stop by her blog, you will not be disappointed.
The second is the Bullshit Award from Sherry over at Word Saladsthe Demyelination of Me. If you ever want to see true character and inner strength... stop by her blog.
A huge thanks to both of you ladies. Hmmm, I went back to look at the two previous awards I got and guess what? Yep. These two ladies again. I get the feeling I am being cyber-stalked.... lol! I am just kidding.
Ok, so what's new with me. Not a whole lot. The weight thing is driving me nuts (Yes, I realize that is going to be a very short trip). One day I am at 304 and the next the scale says 313. I am beginning to think there are gremlins in my bathroom. I mean, really? I gained 9 pounds in one day? I don't think so. I think it is time to invest in a new scale. Something digital. With HUGE numbers. Maybe one that talks. Yea, that's just what I need. A scale telling me I'm fat. Still I fight on.
Ummm, school. Going well. Finished the A-term computer class with a 96.8 average. Why they don't just round that up I will never know. It's an 'A' though. I'll take it. Tests on chapters 1 and 2 already, for B-term. 95 and 97 respectively. I am not disappointed but when I looked at the questions I missed I could have kicked myself. Easy stuff I knew the answer to, just a brain fart when I picked a check box. My bad.
I have a slew of things running through my mind right now. Sadly, my thoughts are so jumbled that when I settle on one to write about I trip over 4 or 5 others. I get sidetracked easily. Personal life. Life after school. Friends. Family. School. Work. New website. Blog change.
Of course, that still leaves MS to talk about. Pretty much the same. I still have some weakness on the right side and some balancing issues when I am walking fast. Personally, I don't think I will ever get any better than I am at this point. I just hope that I don't get any worse. Isn't that the way it is with MS though? You get to a point where you accept the reality of it but in the very next instant you hope it stays at that point. Of course, we know there is a chance for it to not only get worse, but to get a lot worse.
Whatever. Maybe I will hit the lottery. Yea, and maybe monkeys might fly out of my butt.
So I guess this is all for today. Maybe next time I will have more rainbows and unicorns. Maybe.
Later taters!
Let us start off with some awards. I am the proud recipient of two.
The first is the Kreativ Blogger award. This is courtesy of Nadja over at Living! with MS. She is such a sweetheart. Stop by her blog, you will not be disappointed.
The second is the Bullshit Award from Sherry over at Word Saladsthe Demyelination of Me. If you ever want to see true character and inner strength... stop by her blog.
A huge thanks to both of you ladies. Hmmm, I went back to look at the two previous awards I got and guess what? Yep. These two ladies again. I get the feeling I am being cyber-stalked.... lol! I am just kidding.
Ok, so what's new with me. Not a whole lot. The weight thing is driving me nuts (Yes, I realize that is going to be a very short trip). One day I am at 304 and the next the scale says 313. I am beginning to think there are gremlins in my bathroom. I mean, really? I gained 9 pounds in one day? I don't think so. I think it is time to invest in a new scale. Something digital. With HUGE numbers. Maybe one that talks. Yea, that's just what I need. A scale telling me I'm fat. Still I fight on.
Ummm, school. Going well. Finished the A-term computer class with a 96.8 average. Why they don't just round that up I will never know. It's an 'A' though. I'll take it. Tests on chapters 1 and 2 already, for B-term. 95 and 97 respectively. I am not disappointed but when I looked at the questions I missed I could have kicked myself. Easy stuff I knew the answer to, just a brain fart when I picked a check box. My bad.
I have a slew of things running through my mind right now. Sadly, my thoughts are so jumbled that when I settle on one to write about I trip over 4 or 5 others. I get sidetracked easily. Personal life. Life after school. Friends. Family. School. Work. New website. Blog change.
Of course, that still leaves MS to talk about. Pretty much the same. I still have some weakness on the right side and some balancing issues when I am walking fast. Personally, I don't think I will ever get any better than I am at this point. I just hope that I don't get any worse. Isn't that the way it is with MS though? You get to a point where you accept the reality of it but in the very next instant you hope it stays at that point. Of course, we know there is a chance for it to not only get worse, but to get a lot worse.
Whatever. Maybe I will hit the lottery. Yea, and maybe monkeys might fly out of my butt.
So I guess this is all for today. Maybe next time I will have more rainbows and unicorns. Maybe.
Later taters!
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