Back? Or not?

it has been a year an a half... Should I post again, or should I give it up?

Solving tax problems...

OK, with all of the news, and because I'm married to a CPA and slept at a Holiday Inn Express a while back, I feel qualified to solve the money problems of the USA. Here are a few of my suggestions...

1. Stop tax refunds that are over and above what a person pays in.

Seriously... I keep hearing about how much the supposedly rich folks do not pay. What I want to know is how much the IRS gives back every year to folks that is over and above what they pay in. If you work a menial job for next to nothing, I'm not going to give you grief about getting back what you've paid in if you make less than a certain amount. What I do have a problem with is someone that pays in a couple of hundred bucks over the course of the year, then getting back all of that money plus several thousand more in the form of earned income credits, child tax credits, etc. All this on top of any public assistance they already receive. No more "free money"

2. reform welfare.

I'm not going to get into the need for welfare or any public assistance, all I want is for something reasonable to be done about it. Let's say that the US average is 2.4 kids per family. Round that number up to 3 just for the sake of this argument. Set a cap on public assistance to 3 kids per family. You have 4 kids when you go on public assistance, sorry. We'll give you benefits for up to 3 kids. Yeah, life sucks, but that's the breaks.

Also, no "raises" for having more kids while you are on welfare. You have 1 kid when you go on welfare, that's the most you will ever get "paid" for. If you can't support yourself, you have no damn business having more kids. They give rubbers away free everywhere. Use them. My boss doesn't give away raises when Shelly and I have more kids, why should someone that is attached to the gov't tit get one?

Obviously if someone is on the rolls with 4 kids, you can't cut them off, but you sure as heck can tell them not to expect to get paid extra for #5

3. REQUIRED education or service after high school.

ok, this one might be controversial, but tough times are just that... Tough. Suck it up and deal with it. I think most of us agree that a high school education does little to prepare a person for earning a living. I suggest that if a person is not going to go to college, they should be required to attend some sort of trade school, vocational school, or the military. Learn a trade, craft, or serve. Perhaps a sub branch of the military could be formed to deal strictly with non-combat domestic things. Park service, borders, trash on the highways, you name it.

Throw all of the welfare recipients into this branch. If you are going to pay them anyway, lets get some use out of them, and maybe they learn some skills to one day be able to provide for themselves.

Look, the point of this is that high school prepares us for $8 per hour jobs that start with "may I take your order". Perhaps if everyone learned a trade. Learn to weld. Learn plumbing. Learn to be an electrician. Learn to fix cars. My point is that if you know how to do something, you have a better chance at being able to provide for yourself and a family. Everyone can't go to college. But everyone can learn to do something useful.


ok, this is where I put in some sort of disclaimer...

The above list is NOT an exhaustive list of what can and should be done. It is just something that no one has ever mentioned that I can recall. Sure, those things will be unpopular. Sure they take a bite out of the poor, but the point is that some folks are poor and are doing little to change that on their own.

Yes, some burden needs to be shared across the higher income levels and tax brackets. Trust me, the folks in power don't need suggestions from me on how to do that. Several options are floating around, and I'm sure my tax bill is about to rise. If it does, I'm sure we'll make due, I just want the burden to be shared by EVERYONE, including those at the bottom that get all of the benefits with none of the costs...

ok, fire away. Let's hear your thoughts...

Embarrassing moments...

Was just discussing embarrassing moments a little while ago with some co-workers. They reminded me of one such moment, right after I started working here.

I had probably been working here 2 or 3 months at the most. Still on my best behavior trying to figure out everyone. The 2 female co-workers at that time were talking about bowling and the fact that they were in a weekly bowling league. I mentioned that I took bowling as one of my PE requirements in college, and that the instructor was really big on form. So, I went to demonstrate my form. Start holding the ball out in front of you on the right side of your body, Swing the ball back as you step off with your left foot. A couple more steps, swing the ball forward, and release.

All good, right? Well, as I swing my arm / hand forward, one of the ladies sort of backed up and turned... And I ended up with a hand-full of her behind. I'm not sure who was startled more. Me with a hand full, or the lady that had just been goosed. The shades of red I turned that day are still talked about today. It's safe to say that if I EVER demonstrate my bowling form again, I will make darn sure that the path is clear...


And, my most embarrassing moment:

I think I was in 9th grade. Our church youth group went from Lafayette, LA to a camp in the TX Hill Country out near Leakey. On the way home, we stopped in Beaumont for dinner. When passing through Orange, a familiar rumble started forming. Nature was calling. This was back before answering machines were common, so there was no taking a message. This was a call that was going to need to be answered. The only problem was that the bus driver didn't want anyone using the bathroom in his bus. Sure, that's a good decision with 40 kids and an 8-10 hour trip. Because he didn't want the bathroom used, he didn't put any chemicals in the tank.

Well, as we approached the LA border, I went to the front of the bus and told the driver I needed for him to stop at the rest area. He told me no. I pleaded with him that it was sort of important. He refused again, to the point of arguing with me that I should have gone 30 minutes back and that I would just have to hold it the 2 hours until we got home. I DID go back in Beaumont. I needed to go AGAIN. He passed the rest area, and I did the only thing I could do. I told him that he would be sorry because I was going back to the john, and that's exactly what I did.

Let's just say that a week's work of camp meals were searching for the emergency exit at the same time. The fumes were terrible. Unimagineable is a word that comes to mind to describe the stench. Did I mention that it was the middle of the summer and the A/C had also gone out on the bus? It was THAT bad. People screamed. People cried. A few people got sick and puked. People banged on the bathroom door. People were a little mad (some were A LOT mad) at me, but there wasn't much I could do.

After the shock & awe campaign was over, the bus driver pulled over on the side of the interstate. Amazingly, he had the toilet chemicals in the storage bay under the bus. Once he added the chemicals and we got going again, the smell went away. BUT, the damage was done. What I would label as the most embarrassing moment of my life had happened. Any trip after that, if I so much as looked at the bathroom on a bus trip, my friends were sure to question my intentions To this day, that single event is the one that tells people which camp trip they are talking about.

There were many more moments, just none that bad. Does anyone have another they care to remind me of?

Does anyone want to share one of their own?

Feel free to post up in the comments.

Awwww nuts...

It has been a while since the last post. Not much major going on, just being lazy.

So, what prompted me to post now? Well, something pretty funny happened yesterday that I thought was blog worthy.

So, on Wednesday Matthew complained that his "naked" hurt. That's what he calls his junk.. Thinking it was just some sort of surface irritation, I got out the Neosporin, put some on his finger and told him to rub that on where it hurt. He got dressed and I dropped him off at school like usual.

Wednesday evening, I picked him up from after school care and noticed he was walking a little funny. I asked him what was going on and he told me his "naked" still hurt. I figured another round of ointment that evening would take care of things and thought nothing of it.

After dinner, I put the boys in the bath tub and noticed that Matthew's sack was quite red. My first thought was that maybe he got his underwear wet at some point while going to the bathroom and had just managed to rub it raw. But upon closer inspection (and believe me, as a straight man, even inspecting my own kids junk is sort of uncomfortable), I noticed it was pretty swollen on one side. Then I checked and the right nut was more than double the size of the left.

Houston, we have a problem....

So, I had Shelly finish the bath while I called my father-in-law. He's a veterinarian, but still gives pretty good human medical advice. He suggested a visit to the doctor Thursday morning would be in order.

SO, Shelly took him to the doc, got an ultrasound ($455 out of pocket), and was declared to have an infection that should clear up with some antibiotics. All good right? They then came and met me for lunch at Willie's Ice House, where Shelly showed me the picture. Couldn't tell much other than a color ultrasound picture that listed right and left testis.

Fast forward to last night (Thursday night). Shelly called me after work and told me that she thought we left the picture on the table at Willie's. Crap. A picture of balls left at the restaurant. And she wanted me to call and see if the picture was still there and go get it.

So, I called the restaurant. When the girl answered the phone, I told her that I was in there eating lunch with my family and we left an ultrasound picture on the table. I expected that she would have to put me on hold and ask around. She didn't have to. With almost a laugh in her voice, she said yes, they had the picture. And then she transferred me to the manager.

OK, think about what this means for a minute....

The hostess knew about the picture being found 6 hours earlier, likely before her shift started...

Likely everyone on the WHOLE staff had passed around the picture of some poor dude's balls. And I was a guy calling about it. And then I was going to be the guy coming in to pick it up...

THIS WHOLE JOINT IS GOING TO THINK I'M THE GUY WHOSE JEWELS THEY LOOKED AT!!!!

Even worse, this is a restaurant in my regular rotation.

Needless to say, I went and picked it up, everyone around within earshot when I asked for the picture seemed to be sort of snickering.

I think it will be a while before I go back there again...

The apple doesn't fall far...



This last weekend was a busy weekend for out little family. I started Saturday morning doing a few "guy" errands. The truck needed to be inspected and it needed new tires. From there I went down to get a pedicure, or as my blog buddy Wreggie calls it, "Foot Detailing."

OK, I'm a manly man as much as the next guy. I always had my ideas about the types of guys getting pedicures. Yeah, I'm sure THOSE guys get them also while they are getting their manicures. The difference is that I don't get pink polish on my toes...

Let me tell you, this pedicure was something special. After the toe treatment, leg massage, and foot massage, she did a hot stone massage on my legs and feet. At some point after that, I had each foot in a plastic bag filled with hot wax, a hot moist towel wrapped around each leg, and she was giving me a shoulder massage. Oh, yeah, I'm going back there again.

After all of that, I came crashing back into reality by going refrigerator shopping.


So, we're all in Sears checking out the refrigerators. Jonathan is in a buggy. (Shopping cart for the Yankees reading). Matthew is keeping him entertained near where we were looking at the fridges with the salesman. At one point, Shelly and I went one aisle over to check out one more model, and I walked into a cloud. It wasn't me, that much I was sure of.

Of course, being the amazing husband that I am, and because Shelly had not already blamed me, I asked her if it was her. Well, not exactly. I blamed her. The salesman wasn't on that aisle, so it was just us. And this was an adult sized cloud. She took offense at the mere insinuation that she had ever farted at any time, much less in public. It was then that I realized that my 2 boys were a few feet away, quietly playing with their toys (Jonathan still in the buggy, Matthew still right next to him).

I asked Matthew if he had tooted. He smiled.... He KNEW it was a good one.... No doubt, that boy is DEFINITELY my son.

About that time, the salesman was coming around one end of the aisle, and I beat a path around the other side with the boys. I don't think Shelly ever realized why I walked back around the corner, or what had happened. All I know is that the salesman entered the cloud, and the kids and I were gone, with just Shelly left within his sight...

Poor girl, I don't know how she puts up with me.

Lions & Tigers & Guns, OH, MY!

A little while back I was ready one of those "Mommy Blogs". You know the kind. Same as mine, but written by a woman and talks about all of the cute crap their kids do. On second thought, not much like mine at all. My kids are cute, but that stuff isn't nearly as funny as when they crash and burn and prove to my parents that I'm getting exactly what they said I had coming to me.

Anyway, the subject of this blog was GASP guns in the home. Or more specifically, guns in other people's homes - because guns were evil and the blog author would never have such dangerous stuff in her house. The question was about asking friends parents if they had guns in their home before allowing their precious little children to go over there to play. Hilarity ensued in the comments. It's been a while, but here are paraphrases of the typical replies:

I would NEVER allow my child to go to a home that had guns in it...

If I knew the family, I MIGHT allow it, but I would want to know where all of the guns were, and I would want to know that the guns were in a locked room, inside a locked safe, and with trigger locks installed, and the ammo stored in a separate locked container in a separate locked room.

etc, etc...

Are you friggin KIDDING me?

Here are my thoughts...

It's none of your dang business if I have guns in my house. If you are going to let your kid come to my house, you either trust me to watch your children or you don't. If you trust me, then that's all there is to it. If you don't, it doesn't really matter what is in my house, does it? In that case, that's why Chick-fil-a has a play room. Our kids can play together while we have our chicken and sweet tea.

Seriously, to me a weapon is similar to an alarm system. If it is in my home, then it could be here for protection. Maybe I'm paranoid, but personal protection is just that, PERSONAL. I wouldn't give anyone the details of my security system, so why would I tell them where my stuff is and how it is secured? Give me a little credit. I have little kids also. My kids LOVE to find stuff. The love to play with what they find. Do you really think I would endanger my kids? Give me a little credit here and trust that I'm a responsible adult.

As far as the question about if I keep loaded guns around... As far as you are concerned, if I have any guns - not that I do - they are ALL loaded. C'mon, that's the first rule of gun safety. Treat ALL guns as if they are loaded until you prove otherwise.

I have to say that so far we've never been asked. If I'm asked, I'll politely decline to answer the question. If they can't accept that I consider it a private matter, so be it.

Anyone have any thoughts to share? Anyone think I'm a fool and want to tell me that? I can handle it.

Random thoughts and ramblings...

I'm assembling a play system in the backyard for my boys. The instructions say 16-20 hours construction time. I have 35-40 man hours in it, a good portion of that is in sorting and labeling hardware and lumber. I'm not even half finished.

I'm 37 years old. Why was tonight the first time I've ever had mango sorbet? Have I really wasted all these years eating ice cream when I could have had this stuff? I think we're adding it to the regular weekly grocery list.

Tonight I was doing the dishes and heard music coming through the monitor from Jonathan's bedroom. "Won't you take me to Funkytown..." He's not even 2. The Lackey's... Keeping things interesting since...

I cooked dinner tonight. I cook dinner most nights. I do it because I like my cooking best. Shelly is a good cook. I'm better.

I am also better at ironing.

The stupidest thing I EVER did was let Shelly know I knew how to iron. Around our house, if you do something well enough, it becomes your job.

I watch more TV shows now than I've ever watched. I discovered Comcast On Demand, now I generally watch them on there without commercials. I can watch a week's worth of shows in 3-4 hours, when it is convenient for me. Bullrun, Celebrity Apprentice, and Pawn Stars are my favorites.

I like the feeling of satisfaction I get when I finish cutting the grass and see how good the freshly cut yard looks, but I hate actually cutting the grass.

I really enjoy blogging, but sometimes it seems that Facebook makes it harder to blog.