Snow Flake Lane!

This is one of the awesome drummers at the show!

Ken Masters Vs The Phantom Foul

I Meet A Dog and Ruin Her Day

I met a new dog today and while we got along really well, there might have been some miscommunication somewhere. This post is told from the dog's perspective.

A nice man came to my house today. He smelled like cheese and had a big beard. Big Beard Cheese Man petted me and scratched my ears and rubbed my belly. He called me a "good doggy" and let me lick his hand. He tasted like Doritos. His voice was loud but sounded nice. There weren’t any mean tones at all. I liked Big Beard Cheese Man.

Because I liked Big Beard Cheese Man so much, I wanted him to see my favorite toy: My Ball. I have had My Ball forever. My Ball is never far from me. This is my most favoritest toy of All Time. I thought that Big Beard Cheese Man would think My Ball was the bestest too because he was happy to pet and scratch and rub and talk to me. He was a nice man. So when I brought My Ball to him and showed it to him, he had to think My Ball was the bestest because he talked nice and scratched my ears.

But then he tried to take My Ball. He was a nice man; why would a nice man try to take My Ball from me? I bit down on My Ball as hard as I could but Big Beard Cheese Man was very strong. He was still talking nice but he sounded more excited. I didn't want him to take my ball, so I tried to tell him. I growled at him. All that did was make him laugh and pull harder. Big Beard Cheese Man was trying to take my most favoritest toy ever and he was having fun? I thought he was a nice man.

As hard as I tried, I couldn't keep Big Beard Cheese Man from taking My Ball. After he took My Ball, he called me a "good doggy" and petted me and scratched my ears. He was talking nice and acting nice and I could almost think that he was a nice man but…he TOOK MY BALL.  A nice man wouldn't take My Ball. Big Beard Cheese Man then held My Ball up high. He was still talking nice but was sounding even more excited than ever.

Then, Big Beard Cheese Man threw My Ball. He just reached back and threw it. He is very big and strong and he threw My Ball really far. Really, really far. Why would a nice man throw My Ball, my bestest and most favoritest toy of All Time? My Ball bounced across the yard and landed in the bushes on the far side on the yard. Why would he throw My Ball in the bushes? All I could do was stare at Big Beard Cheese Man.

Big Beard Cheese Man is not a nice man. At all. Now I has a sad.

Dad's Eulogy

Welcome everybody and thank you for coming this afternoon. We are here to celebrate the life of Jack Chandler Beach, or Joe to his friends. For those of you who don't know me, I'm also Joe Beach, Joe's eldest son. Unless of course, Dad and I are at the same place, then I'm Joey. Even now at 40, I'm Joey. The reason why I'm up here has everything to do with the fact that I am my father's son. Meaning that like Dad, I can't pass up an opportunity to tell stories. Which is what I'm here to do today. Dad lived a full and amazing life and I am going to try to tell the story of his life by sharing our memories of him.

Dad was born on July 9th 1945 in Glasgow Montana. While taking my brother, Tony, and I on a trip to the old homestead in Glasgow, we both learned that things are very different there. Take hunting for example. Here in Washington, you have to pack for days in the woods. You get up at Oh My God thirty and eat a hasty camping breakfast. You have to hang out in the woods for hours and hours in hopes of seeing game. In Montana, you sleep in and have a huge home-cooked breakfast. You jump in the truck and drive to the back woods. And finally, you roll down the window and choose the one of many bucks you see.

Dad was one of four kids; Older sister Karen, Older brother Mick, and younger sister Mary Jo. Their childhood was pretty typical, they lived on a corner lot so their house was the place to gather and play baseball and football. There were bike races. Mary Jo credits Dad for making her a tomboy. He gave Mary Jo her first baseball mitt and basketball. Mick and Dad used Karen's bike to vulture parts from when theirs broke.

While growing up, Dad was into sports. Given the athletic ability that Tony and I both exhibit, he must have been great. He played football for Rainier Beach High School and I'm sure it wasn't his fault that they never won a game.

After high school, Dad joined the Navy and became a Seabee. The Seabees, short for Construction Battalion, are the guys that build roads, buildings, fortifications and myriad of other things. While serving in Viet Nam on Team 0311 and 0312, he helped build the bases for the Special Forces units. The Seabees would always be a big deal in Dad's life. 40 years after the team went their separate ways, Dad was part of an effort to get the guys back together and have a team reunion. After that, the guys were in contact with each other via email and social media. There were trips to other reunions. He was very proud to be a part of a great team and a great group of men with bonds that unite them even now. Inspired by Dad’s service, his two nephews, Bill and Doug Shaffer also joined the Seabees.

When he finished his military commitment, he completed his apprenticeship and worked for several steel fabricators in the area until he finally found a home at Seattle City Light. His last twenty years were spent in Construction Engineering as a field inspector. This was truly a job he loved. After putting in 29 years into a company that he really enjoyed, Dad retired. After his retirement, the light rail project seems to have hit a snag and slowed down some. A coincidence I’m sure. Since Pops didn’t need it anymore, he gave me his “I’m a Super Import Dude Because I Wear A Yellow Hard Hat” and told me to go forth and cause mischief. Wearing that hat and carrying a clipboard opened any door on a Seattle construction site. It was so awesome. No one cares about a low voltage guy but a City Light Muckity Muck could go anywhere and see anything. I eventually discovered a slightly bad side effect that would manifest after people learned that I was in no way, shape or form a City Light employee. I also learned from my father that the better part of valor sometimes means just walking away. I now keep the hard hat as a memento for my father.

As I stated earlier, Dad had two boys: Joseph Anthony and Anthony John. Junior Joe and TJ. Most of my earliest memories of Dad revolve around sports. Sundays at Dad's place was all about the Seahawks. There was one game in November 1984 where Dave Brown intercepted two passes and returned them both for touchdowns. I think that is the game that cemented my love for the Hawks. Tony and I learned math from Dad while playing darts. He would have us figure the three dart double out before we took our turn while playing 301.

Dad's love of football wasn't just for his boys. George, Mary Jo's husband, has a great story about their trip to the Rose Bowl in the early '80s. The three of them drove down to Pasadena to meet Mary Jo's friend, Stacey, and then stay at Stacey's cousin's place. One of the nights before the game, they were hanging out and not much was happening. Of course this doesn't sit right with my Pops so he asked George "Can I borrow the car tonight?" He takes the car and heads out to bar that he had previously scouted out and played some darts. After he had his night out, Dad came back to the house only to find it locked up tight. If Dad was anything, he was a problem solver. Seeing a trellis that reached an upstairs bedroom, he started to climb up. While Dad could figure out solutions to problems, he sometimes missed on the execution. So of course the owner of the house heard Dad, reached the logical conclusion that someone was trying to rob the place and went outside to see what was going on. By the time he got there, Dad was just entering the window. Say what you want, but Dad always made an impression with people.

Being a Beach, I have heard all the Beach jokes out there. Life's a Beach. Dude, as long as you aren't a Nude Beach! Son of a Beach. My Mom really likes that one by the way. The best one, by far, is my Stepmom's name: Sandie Beach. People just don't believe that it's a real name. Then I tell them about the dog, Pebbles. Yeah, Pebbles Beach. Let that soak in for a second. Almost my whole life there has been a doxen in it. Dad was gruff with the dog but loved her like crazy. You don't lay on air mattress in the pool with the dog lying on top of you while she drinks sips of beer that you pour in your belly button if you don't love that dog.

Dad and Sandie have been together for 35 years. It was a dart tournament that started it all. When Dad walked into the bar, he saw a pretty young blonde. He then said "I'm going to win and I choose the blonde. Sure enough, he won the tournament and to the victor goes the spoils.

Dad’s favorite baseball player was Nolan Ryan. Whenever the Ryan Express came to Seattle, Dad would take us to the game. While he loved watching Ryan pitch and hearing the smack as the ball hit the catcher’s glove, Dad above all, wanted to catch a foul ball. Game after game and nothing but disappointment. Not even one ball was hit close to us. Then, when Dad started to believe he would never get a ball, one was hit to us. It seemed as if the dream was finally going to be realized and it was going to be ours. The ball kept flying over our heads and landed two rows above us. Some guy reached up to catch it only to have it slip between his hands, bounce off his head and landed in Dad’s lap. Sandie saw that the guy was bleeding from a cut above his eye and asked Dad if he was going to give the man the ball, Dad answered “If he wanted it, he should have caught it.” We also witnessed history. We got to see the last pitch Nolan Ryan ever threw in a Major League Baseball game. The last hit Ryan gave up was to Mariner Dann Howitt, a grand slam. Don’t worry if you don’t recognize the name, I Googled Dann Howitt to see what he is doing now but Google didn’t know either.

 

As Tony got older, Dad started to introduce activities which they could do together. The almost annual fishing trip to Sekiu was one of them. Tony would stay the night at Dad and Sandie’s the evening before they left, and get up really early the next morning to beat traffic for the long drive. Dad, always hoping for a nice dialogue on the way up, would mostly be met with silence as Tony would knock off before they hit Tacoma.  After a few years, Dad tried different tricks to keep him awake. But Tony, who didn’t yet drink coffee, and possessing the Beach talent of being able to fall asleep anywhere, thwarted them all. Cranking up Paul Harvey at a high volume is like white noise to a teenager. The drive was long for Dad and a refreshing nap for Tony. While at Sekiu, the victories were many as plenty of fish were pulled out of the straits of Juan De Fuca, even as other things didn’t go as well. There was crashing the trailer into the diner. Accidentally sending an older couple, who were lost in the fog, back out to sea. Getting seasick, or as they called it “chumming the water”. Losing expensive tackle to the bottom of the ocean because let’s face it, the cheap stuff never gets lost. But most importantly, enjoying the gentle sway of the waves, the sound of the seagulls and the nervous anticipation of yelling FISH ON!

Twenty some years ago, Dad bought a 1966 Ford Mustang. He spent those years loving restoring that car. He recruited Bill to help him out since he is a Ford Fixing Ninja and those two tinkered, chromed and made that car beautiful. So beautiful in fact that she won six car show awards. We’ll just gloss by the fact that they were all second place awards. Getting second builds character they say. It’s also been said that second place is the first loser. I believe that we all know where dad fails in this argument. 

Dad also introduced golf to Tony. When dad picked up the golf bug, he naturally tried to hook his sons.  While I didn’t take to it, Tony couldn’t resist. As Dad got more involved, so did Tony. Each time Dad thought his clubs were the problem, Tony got Dad’s old set. Needless to say, Tony upgraded from a starter set to very nice golf clubs in a few short years. They would play courses all over, but the Lake Chelan golf trip was the best. It was Tony’s introduction to the golf vacation, a trip specifically to play many rounds at many places over many days. During one of these trips, dad pulled off a mini miracle. While struggling through the front nine of a beautiful sunny day, dad put his tee in the ground on the 10^th hole. Trying to pick dad up, Tony said something to the extent, “new nine holes, start it off well.” Dad pulled out his best swing of the day, driving the ball into the sky. As the ball climbed in elevation heading straight down the fairway, a bird flew across the flight path intersecting exactly with the speeding ball. The bird and ball collided and feathers went poof fluttering down to the ground. Unfortunately, the ball also went straight down. For all of Dad’s perfect swing execution, the ball went 100 yards and didn’t make the fairway. It was Dad’s only birdie of the day. Golf is still very much a part of Tony’s life. Golf trips like the ones to Chelan are still part of his life. I know Tony is going to miss teeing it up with Dad.

Christmas Eve at Grandma’s there was a tradition that the youngest child has to sort the presents. Tony and I hated it. When you are a kid, you just want to open the presents. Who cares how they get to you? Well now that we have kids of our own, this tradition doesn’t seem so bad. One of the best things that I got to experience over the summer was bringing my family to hang out at Dad and Sandie’s house, with Tony and his family. Once again the house was full of kids running around and playing in the pool. The look at pride on Dad’s face was something I will carry with me forever.

On September the 21^st, Dad passed away quietly with a pretty blonde girl holding his hand. The same girl that he met 35 years ago, on September 21, at a dart tournament. Goodbye Dad, you will missed by many people. The world is a little less funny and a little more quite. We love you.

Here Is A GIF Of Me Looking Awesome

Last Week In Review: The Meatloaf Edition

Tuesday.

Wendy: What do you want for dinner? Me: Your Super Awesome Meatloaf! W: That takes too much time, it's a weekend thing. Me: I can wait! Yay.

Thursday.

Wendy: Remember, we have Jordan's baseball practice and then Jared's party Saturday. Me: Sooooooo, no meatloaf on that day huh? W: That's right; Saturday is about other people, not just you eating meatloaf.

Sunday morning.

Wendy: The massage place called and they can get me in for the spa day that you got me for Valentine’s Day. Me: And this affects our dinner plans hoooooooow? W: Yeah, I won't have time to make meatloaf. Me: So, betrayed by my romantic gesture! See, this is why guys hate Valentine’s Day! It always screws us out of Super Awesome Meatloaf!

Sunday afternoon.

Wendy: That spa treatment was so great. Thank you Baby. Me: I'm glad you enjoyed it. Hey, what is in all those grocery bags? W: Stuff for meatloaf. Me: What?! Is there meatloaf in my immediate future? W: Yes, it looks like I have the time to get it done. Me: YAY!

Sunday evening.

Me: So worth the wait! Thank you girl, you are too good to me. Wendy: You are very welcome. And now, get in the kitchen and clean that mess!

The Conversation I Am Dreading With My Ten Year Old

I can see myself sitting on the couch, banging away on the keyboard writing weird Joey stuff, with my headphones on listening to music. Jordan would see me and being the naturally curious boy that he is, he would tap on my shoulder. “What are you listening to?” Now, those of you that know me really well will say that I have terrible music tastes.  I would be inclined to agree but despite that, I have no problems talking about it.

“I am listening to Winger.”

“Winger? That’s a weird name.”

“Yeah, that’s true but there is a reason for it.” A quick Google Image search later and I show Jordan a bunch of pictures. “This is Kip Winger. He is the singer and the band is named after him.”

 “Oh…why is his shirt off in all the pictures?”

Ah, the 80’s. How do you explain the 80’s to a kid? You don’t, you punt instead. “That’s a good question; you are full of good questions.” I would then put my headphones back on and get back to writing. However, knowing Jordan this would not be the end of it.

“Can I listen too?” While it’s all well and good that I listen to this stuff but how, as a guy trying to be a responsible father, can I subject him to it?

“No, no you can’t”

“Well, why not?”

“Because Winger is small part of a larger grab bag of things from the 80’s that should just die with my generation.  I know you don’t understand right now but you will later when your kids ask you about Ke$ha.”

So I Wrote a Fake Facebook Conversation

If the Star Wars charactors were on Facebook, more importantly, if Lando was on Facebook what would a post look like? Maybe like this one?Check it out; Lando verses the Star Wars universe.

The Grocery Store...It's A Trap!

So I went to the grocery store today. Those of you new to my posts will probably wonder what the big deal is. Thousands of people go to grocery stores all the time without anything happening. The rest of you that follow along my misadventures know differently. So here we go, a post about Joey going to the grocery store.

As I was walking through the produce section, yeah I said it; produce section, I was trying to remember if I had garlic. I was walking around thinking “Do we have garlic? Do we have garlic? Do we have garlic?” While I'm thinking about that, a helpful employee comes up and asks if he could help me. I respond “Do you know if I have garlic?” He gives me a smile that all retail people use to humor idiot customers and walks away.

Next, I had to find some canned tomatoes and tomato paste. So I'm walking up and down the canned fruit vegetable and section and I'm trying to figure out if tomatoes are fruits or vegetables. Turns out, that the point is moot since the canned tomatoes are kept in with the pasta sauces. This led me to be painfully aware that I am way too domesticated and would never survive again by myself in the wild.

I take all my stuff and go to checkout. The nice young lady grabs the dozen roses that I am going to give Wendy and a thorn gets her in the palm of her hand. This leads me to say “Every rose has it's thorn huh?” She gives me a smile that all retail people use to humor idiot customers and keeps on ringing me up. I didn’t care because I got to quote Poison so my day was complete. Here is where I want to point out that Wendy better appreciate the roses since they literally has cause people to have blood on their hands.

After I bought my stuff, the nice young lady handed me my receipt and said “Thank you mister Lantz.” We need to get a new club card together.

I Give Some Stepfatherly Advice (Some of which might actually be good)

When Jordan and I got in the pool, I noticed that he had a bunch of scratches, scraps and scabs on his arms, legs, chest and back. I started to ask “How did you get that scratch? Where did that scrap come from?”

“I fell off my scooter. I got this from climbing a tree. I’m sorry Joe.” I when laughed and said “Don’t be. A nine year old boy needs to have those. I would be worried if you didn’t. Never apologize for being hurt or wounded. Never be embarrassed by your scars.”

He looked at me all confused and asked why. “Because all of those hurts make you who you are today and will continue to shape you into the man you will be. Every scar tells a story and all of those stories tell how you became you.” I pulled my leg out of the water and showed his a two inch scar on my shin. “I got this at my Dad’s pool when I was jumping up and down on the diving board. After about 10 bounces, I then decided to dive in. While in the air, I changed my mind, tried to land back on the board and ended up falling head first into the pool and scrapping my shin along the edge of the diving board. Ask my brother about sometime. He will laugh is butt off telling the story.”

I pointed to a scar above my eye, “I got this running head first in a corner of a wall. This one was from slicing boxes open with a razor knife and missing.” Jordan started to laugh. “Did you cry?” I looked him in the eyes and smirked “Some of them yeah, I cried. Others, no. The point is this: All of them hurt but I got better and when I tell all the time that chicks dig scars, it’s not because they think we were brave and heroic when we got them. Chicks, or more to the point, your mom loves all my scars because they are part of me. She accepts the good and the bad and the scarred since they helped me become the man she is going to marry tomorrow. And I love all of her scars because they are part of her and helped her become the woman she is.

"Our lives are in part defined by a lifetime of stories. We learn from our mistakes and grow a little with each cut or scratch or scrap. If you don’t learn fast enough, well maybe the next cut will help you. As your stepfather, I might get mad at you for trying dumb things but remember this: There are not that many dumb things you can do that I haven’t done already. I will try to help you navigate through some the more stupid things you will want to try but I also know that you need to make your own mistakes too. But I want you to wear those scars proudly and never forget how you got them since there will be a special someone in your life that will want to hear how you got scars.”

“Joe, are you done talking yet? I want you to throw me across the pool."

I Got 99 Problems And Being A Nerd Is One

Jordan just got a Justice League comic in a cereal box and got really excited about it. This made me feel that the nerd culture was making a step forward, that the next generation was getting into it. To see just how far he has come, I asked him to name all the members.

I pointed to Superman and he knew him. Same with Batman and The Green Lantern. I then pointed to Aquaman and of course Jordan didn’t know who he was. Seriously, Aquaman is famous for sucking. Why would Jordan know or care about that dude.

Next, I pointed The Flash and again Jordan didn’t recognize him. I was starting to feel a little bit like a failure now. Just because Hollywood has not made a movie about The Flash doesn’t mean that a nine year old shouldn’t know who he is.

Finally, I pointed to Wonder Woman and asked if he knew who she was. He got a big smile, started to walk away said “Super Woman” and then did a Jay Z “brushing the dirt off my shoulder” move like he nailed it.


While I loved the bravado (I’m sure I don’t know where he learned the move) it made me start to question myself as a nerd parent. He should know who Wonder Woman is after all.

So I decided to make this a teaching moment and told him who it was and got the response that shook me to the core, “whatever.” As I a stood there in stunned silence, Wendy was looking at me with concern, like I was about to cry.

This just showed me while Jordan has come a long way, there is still much I have to show him.

What I Learned At The 3 Day 2011

Welcome to the annual 3 Day recap-Joey style! I have done this post for two years now, while last year’s post was from a walker’s perspective (you can read it here) this year will be a glimpse from a crew member. A blurry, sleepy eyed glimpse but hopefully informative. Enough of the introduction, let’s get to the good stuff!

It’s a good idea to have a least one person that can sew on your team.

One of the things that make The 3 Day so much fun is that you get to wear costumes, but usually those costumes are original and homemade. That means someone putting needle and thread to cloth. Those of us on the Food Service Crew are incredibly spoiled in this department. We have a bunch of great ladies putting together things like chef hats and aprons. But the coup de gras for me is that have my very own seamstress, and Wendy put together a superhero costume for the ages. For opening, it was my job to man the street by the long-term parking garage and wave the walkers in. It was five in morning and I was on a dark street corner and I was totally waiting for crime to happen so I could go fight it. On the downside, there are not too many phone booths around to do the super hero switch. Oh well, one uses what one can. Which leads to:

Being a Superhero is as much fun as I imagined.
Whether it’s a Pink Masked Marvel costume or an Ironman suit, living the life a hero is awesome! Plus, the ladies of The 3 Day have no problem objectifying a man and copping feel of the guns, which of course didn’t bother me a bit.



Don’t get between a walker and her coffee at 5:00 in the AM.
Not much to add here other than the fact if you are the one to have coffee for her in your hand, you get to be a hero even if you aren’t in a suit.

No matter how many times I do The 3 Day, it never fails to change my life.
Closing still gets me. It always happens when we raise our shoe to the survivors. I have written in the past the survivors are the rock stars of weekend, and as the years go by and I meet more people at the events, the more I respect and admire them. I’ll be worried when it doesn’t get to me anymore.


Karaoke isn't just for the talented anymore.

"Don’t sign up for Karaoke unless you can bring it" is what I wrote last year. That hasn't changed but when the gal singing Bonnie Tyler's Total Eclipse of the Heart (and REALLY bringing it) is asking for a guy to sing the Rory Dodd "turn around bright eyes" part, I stepped up. Yes I had to Goggle the dude's name, even my vast Useless Knowledge Memory Banks didn't know it and you didn't know either. It was the Glee version and I managed to fumble through it (I have a HUGE post in my head about how that show is killing all the songs from my high school experience). Everybody was really cool saying that I did a good job but what do they know? They just walked 20 miles and are on an Gatorade high. Still, the complements are very much appreciated. Here is a video of my "performance" and if anybody know who the gal is, please let me know.



Sprinklers that are used to water big fields, are really good at their job.
And those pink tents are not good at repelling the water. But, even the pink tent offers some protection, those sleeping on cots the medical tent didn't even have that much. Things started around two o'clock Sunday morning and as the word got out, people were dragging their tents off the field. Tables were overturned and placed on the sprinkler heads. As you can imagine, chaos ensued. I'm reasonably certain I was the only person to sleep through the whole thing. It's not very often you get to hear the benefits of sleep apnea.

Stickers seem to be the only currency that matters for three days.

If you have on a super hero suit, people tend to talk to you. If you have on a super hero suit and are handing out stickers, people crowd around like you are a levitating David Blaine Street Magician. Wait, he's a bit creepy now isn't he? How about crowding around like you are Yoda levitating a X-wing fighter? Too nerdy? Too bad, I'm a nerd and this is my blog.

Just because you are a bus driver, that doesn't mean you know how to drive a bus.<

Buses are big and they don't make signs like they used to. Now that I think about it, I'm not sure they ever made signs that can hold up to a bus.

The Remembrance Tent will affect you.

This year was the first time I went into the Remembrance Tent and saw a picture of someone I knew. In 2009, I went in there with no idea what to expect and it hit me hard. I didn't know a single person in any of the pictures. I didn't know any of the names written on the tent. The sense of love and lose was so heavy and brought home to me why people participate at the 3 Day. In the intervening years, as my circle of friends and family has grown, so has my awareness of cancer. There have been members of my family that have beat it that I didn't know about. I have met and come to love people through The 3 Day that are fighting cancer, some for a second or third time. People who have had lost mothers, daughters, sisters or aunts and people who just want to make a difference. I don't want to see any more pictures added to the Remembrance Tent.

High School-20 Years Later

So Wendy and I went to our 20 year high school reunion last weekend and I have a few random thoughts about it.

My batting average of facial or name recognition of people was about three for every ten, a respectable .300 average. Well, it sucked to have to tell the other seven people “yeah, I have no idea.”

Alcohol didn’t help with names but it helped in other ways. There is nothing a Jello shot can’t make better.

The great planners of the shindig had name tags on lanyards for everybody but I don’t think they thought far enough however. So ladies, I want you to know that I was trying to look at the name tag on your chest, not your…well chest. Really.

Some high school cliques will never apparently die, even though they really should.

I *don’t* dance, ever. I don’t care how many models Wendy sends over to try and drag me to the dance floor, it will not happen. And this is for the benefit of everybody else. So instead of complaining, just thank me.

Music from the 80’s is still the best. Ever. Period.

Chick mullets were kinda cool back then. I’m still on the fence about girls having them now. Dude mullets are still super awesome! I will still try to grow one despite the ever constant threat of being shaved in the middle of the night.

Lastly, I want to thank everybody who came up and told me how much they like my stuff. It was appreciated as much as it was a surprise. Thank you. I write this stuff mostly because I like to crack myself up. But I do have what standup comedians refer to as the brain damage that makes them want to have other people like them, so hearing the positive feedback was really cool. Thanks again.

Onion Goggles Are Badass!

My sister-in-law Carrie introduced Wendy and me to one of the greatest inventions ever; the Onion Goggles! They are used to keep your eyes from tearing up while chopping onions. And they look super cool. Here is a picture of my niece Ava wearing them.


We loved them so much that Carrie gave Wendy a pair for Christmas. Even though they are Wendy's, she "lets" me chop the onions so I can use them. The one drawback is now Jordan thinks that if he isn't wearing the goggles, he can't look at onions without his eyes burning. Even if a chef is chopping them on TV he turns away and screams. It's awesome! You can't not look cool while wearing them as Jordan shows us here.


I have a huge man-crush on Nathan Fillion. Not only do I not deny it, I celebrate it proudly! Granted, Wendy is a bit creeped out by this but it isn't really the strangest thing she has to deal with when it comes to my nerdliness. Because of this bromance, I picked up the first season of Castle on DVD and began watching it. When I reach the third episode, look who is wearing the Onion Goggles!


After I saw this, all I could think was "Holy crap, Nathan Fillion is as cool as my family!" True story.

Oh Bleep

So this happened to me today: I'm removing some fire alarm stuff for a remodel in a church and I’m working up in the attic. I needed to look behind an alcove to see where the wires were going, so I climbed up on to what I thought some framing and a shelf that was built to house the HVAC ducts. I took one step and turned on my flashlight.

That’s when I fell through the attic. One moment I was standing what I thought was plywood and the next I fell through what turned out to be really dirty and dusty sheetrock. Lucky for me, the HVAC ducts and the soffit were there to catch my fall. A fall that was only about three feet.

Now, those of you that know me really well would think that this kind of thing happens to me all the time but in truth, I have never fallen through an attic, ceiling or anything else of the kind. So it was a little scary.

Now, I’m not going to say how things totally slowed down Matrix style because they didn’t. It happened so fast I couldn’t even get a “oh shit” out. And I’m very quick with my swearing. It really was: I'm tall, now I'm in straddling this AC duct.

The best thing about all of this is that no one saw it. I was already filthy from working and I didn’t hurt myself and wasn't bleeding so nobody knows. I needed to change my underwear but no long term damage. Well, my pride maybe but that has taken so many hits it’s almost bulletproof.

Memorial Day 2011

I wrote this post a few years ago and wanted to bring it back because of Memorial Day and share some stuff about my Dad.


My dad was a Seabee during the Viet Nam war. It was his job to build the defenses and structures while still fighting the enemy.

He did two tours there and even though he was in the Navy, he didn’t spend any time on ships. He wore combat boots and fatigues. He carried a rifle and stomped in the same mud as any solder.

On his first tour, he was on Seabee Technical Assistance Team 0311. After that, the Navy was asking for volunteers for Team 0312 that was going to be stationed at Micronesia. No fighting this time but instead there would be scuba diving and a Boston Whaler.

After only four months of training, the Army’s 9th infantry division was sent home and Seabee Team 0312 was sent to help fill the gap. Navy=Never Again Volunteer Yourself.

Recently, he has been trying to get in touch with his teammates and is planning a reunion in June. One of his best friends who was on both Seabee teams was a guy called Doc. Doc had died 8 years ago and Dad has been corresponding with his wife Joyce.

Mostly he has written about the time spent in Asia. Doc, like most guys that served, didn’t talk much about that time with family. The letters touched on things from their six months of training to a time Doc took my Dad a trip to a village to help the sick and injured.

Dad as been sending me copies of the letters he has been writing to her. As I read these letters, it came crashing down on me that the time Dad was talking about, he was 15 years younger than I am now.

These letters opened a window to my dad and I am getting to see different side of him.

People have been asking me about my humor in my writing. So to bring this full circle, I want to end this post with an excerpt from a letter my Dad sent out to his teammates. It was a three page autobiography that started out like this:

"In May of 1945, Germany surrendered unconditionally to the Allies. Two months later, Jack Joe (my Dad) was born. The Japanese realizing with this birth their cause was unattainable also surrendered. (Thus) ending World War Two." It eerily sounds like something I would have written.

This is Seebee Team 0311. Dad is in the bottom row, second from the left.

I Dont Have Too Much Confidence In Humanity

Wendy and I went to Pike Place Market and we saw some things that make me believe that the human race is going to end up like the dinosaurs.

I know that if there are six billion of anything, some of those things are going to suck, some will be awesome and the majority will be bland. Yet, a rare few can rise to the top and stand out even among the normal stupid human behavior. Here a few things that we saw.

If you are going to buy something and take a good ten minutes to pay because you are counting out change from a ziplock bag, you had better be a kid. If you happen to be a older lady doing this, you are pissing off the world. The coin counting machines are frakking awesome, give them a try. Also, if you are counting out a mountain of change, for the love a God know how to count!

Pike Place Market can be crowded. When there is a Mariner game on in a few hours, the Market will get very crowded. When the team the M's are playing happens to be the Yankees, the Market can be unbelievably crowded with people wearing Yankees crap. Because of this, it's important to understand how crowds move in narrow spaces. Or rather, how they don't move. If you stop in the middle of the narrow lane of traffic, you will piss off a butt-load of people. If you stop in a narrow lane of traffic to pop a zit on your husband's nose, not only will you piss off a butt-load of people, you will totally gross them all out too. Seriously, take that stuff home or at least move to the street.

I know this is a PC time in our lives, especially when it come to our children. But if I ever even tried some of the stuff kids just do now when I was a kid, my Mom would have beaten me to inch of my life...and would have justified to do so! What parents are letting kids get away with now is amazing to me. It's like we don't want our children to have even one second of unpleasant experiences.

So now we have a generation of kids who think they should be given everything, get a trophy for just playing win or lose and when their parents tell them to do something, they treat it like it's more of a suggestion.

Eating lunch around these kids suck balls. You just can't enjoy anything around these wild uncontrollable beings. Tigers have it right when they eat their young sometimes.

I have to admit that not everybody at Pike Place sucks. There are some very cool things there that people have made or got. If you have a 13 year old boy's sense of humor, Pike Place is awesome. If you are a nerd, the Market is a treasure trove. Here are a couple things that I found that made me giggle.

Hannibal Lector's favorite side dish.


I LOVE the Evil Dead movies. I hate that I could not, after 20 minutes of trying, rotate this picture. Anyway, the Nerd Store at Pike Place had a bunch of ID tags for all kinds of TV shows and movies.

This needs no words at all. Mmmmm soup.

Mi Familia

It's crazy how much I love these two.

Disney Vacation Day Two

We are eating breakfast on Wednesday morning before Two Day and I’m jotting down some quick thoughts.

Getting a kid to do his homework before going to Disneyland is no small feat.

As we were looking for a place for lunch, we Jordan what he would like. We are surrounded by tons of cool and new restaurants and all he said was McDonald’s. We didn’t get on an airplane and fly down here just to have a frakking quarter pounder!

Some things can only happen to me: Like when going to the bathroom, I yank on the drawstrings to my shorts to hard and they knot up. I can’t undo the knot so I decide to pull the leg on my shorts up. I imagine this looked odd to all the guys in the restroom.

Souring Over California is AWESOME! I knew it was going to be because while standing in line the face and voice of the ride is Patrick Warburton. Effing Patrick Warburton! “Enjoy the flight little aviators” he said. Indeed, indeed I will Patrick Warburton. And thanks.

The only more annoying than two high school girls yammering on and on is two high school girls yammering on and on while standing next to you in line for 35 minutes.

If it was feasible, I would make a lightsaber everyday.