Friday, May 29, 2009

What to Do While Your Wife is at a Bret Michaels Concert

1) Hope she doesn't get picked for Rock of Love.
2) Laugh quietly to yourself about the lock you secretly installed on her bra.
3) Talk dirty to yourself.
4) Walk the dog.
5) Text her a reminder that sex with Brett Michaels may be the rose, but an STD is the thorn.
6) Go have a beer with Courtney Love.
7) Update your monthly budget to reduce her shopping allowance.
8) Go out lookin' for nothin' but a good time.
9) Pick up your suit from the tailor.
10) Kick yourself for not secretly installing a lock on her pants.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

The Old Man and the Weekend

I'm a boring old man.  I'm not going to fight it anymore.  It's time for me to own my new status as an aging, boring individual.  I just don't have what it takes to be young and exciting and full of fun and energy.  Sure, I can still have fun and I even have fairly frequent bursts of energy, but I just can't sustain it like I used to.

What brought this on?

This weekend was my annual trip to Michigan City to hang out with Dee and all of her friends.  We rent a lake house and party all weekend.  The days are filled with playing Baggo1 and drinking beer and the nights are filled with drinking games and drinking beer.  We usually arrive on Friday afternoon and leave on Monday.  For those without "math brains" that's three whole nights of partying - not to mention the day drinking as well.  I'm just not physically capable of keeping up anymore.

Friday night I managed to stay up until after 1am - much later than most of the crew2 - and kept a steady buzz going all night.  I know that staying up past one o'clock is not that impressive even for old and boring people.  In fact, I routinely do this every weekend but that is usually because I'm doing a show that starts at 12:30.  However, I rarely do this if I have been drinking.  It's such a rare occurrence that one of my friends took a picture of the clock and then took a picture of me to document the fact that I closed out the party on Friday night.

You may be thinking that a truly old and boring person would not be around to close down the party on the opening night of the weekend.  Don't judge before you have all the facts.

Saturday was a warm, beautiful and sunny day and the whole crew set up camp just outside our house and organized a Baggo3 tournament.  We all put money in the pot to be distributed to the winners4.  We also put beer in the coolers and distributed it to winners and losers alike.  Despite not knowing the proper name for the game, my team won and took home the cash prize5.

Eventually the day began fading into the night and we grilled more meat than was ever necessary to grill for anyone with a conscience6.  After a brief cleanup, the games began.  I got sucked into a drinking game called Circle of Death.  Of course, I was also the "loser" of the game.  This required me drinking from a cup from which everyone had poured various drinks - the kicker was the Everclear soaked cherry in the bottom.  The good news was that the mix of alcohol washed the meat taste out of my mouth.  The bad news is that it came right back after a powerful vurp7.  And still, the night charged on.  Soon we were engaged in a Flippy Cup tournament8.  Thankfully, my team was eliminated quickly and I was able to spend the rest of the evening drinking at my own pace.  This night there was no one to take a picture of me and the clock as the party was still going, dwindling, but still going when I went to bed.

Still doesn't sound old person-y enough for you?  Just wait.

On Sunday I was greeted with a hangover.  Once I made my way downstairs, I realized that most everyone else was too.  The ladies began organizing their shopping trip to the nearby outlet mall.  The guys decided that we would get outside and enjoy the warm morning despite the fact that we were all dragging ass.  We made our way down to the beach and played some9 football.  Afterwards, we went back to the house and showered up before the Blackhawks game.  This is the turning point of the weekend for me.  I was beginning to realize that once the game started there would be more drinking and gambling and drinking for losing your bets and drinking when the Blackhawks scored and... well, you get the point.  I decided to avoid the game and take a nap.  As I was falling asleep - or maybe it was when I was waking up - I devised a plan.

While everyone else was busy drinking, I would get a solid plastic cup and fill it with water and keep filling it with water all night.  It would look like I was drinking, but I wouldn't actually be drinking.  Not really much of a plan, but sometimes the best plans are the simplest.  It worked.  For most of the evening I was able to avoid drinking alcohol and stay sober.  I even chugged my whole cup of water when everyone was doing the same with their beers.  Nobody caught on10.

I was able to slip quietly away to bed feeling comfortable that I had put in my effort to enjoy the party.  Dee and I got up early on Monday morning and drove home to pick up our dog before we got charged for an extra day11.

I realized on that ride home that three straight days of partying is not possible anymore.  In fact, two straight days of partying is probably pushing it.  More than that, I realized that I don't even want to party for two straight days anymore.  It took all the energy I could muster to get into the party on Saturday night.  I eventually did but I wore myself out trying to convince myself to party.  I was mentally drained.  Sometime during the past year, I became an old man.  I'm not sure exactly when it happened but I'm pretty sure it was right around the time I started thinking I should start wearing suits more often.

Thankfully, being an old man suits me.  I already have the gray hair and I've been the oldest person in pH for quite a few years.  I know the role and will play the hell out of it.  Now, what do I do next year?


1. Or Cornhole or Bags or whatever you call it.  It's the game where you throw bean bags onto and into a board with a hole in it.  It's the portable version of horseshoes.

2. Especially my wife.  To be fair, she had to get up at 5am for work.


3. I'm going with 'Baggo' because it's the only name that sounds like a game and not some sort of sex act.


4. Gambling?!  Not typical old and boring person behavior, I know.  Not including slot machines, of course.


5. $65 a piece, if you must know.  I'm looking at you, IRS.


6. I'm not a vegetarian, but this was an obscene amount of meat.  If sausage didn't totally gross me out after a few days in the fridge, I could still be eating that meat - and so could everyone else.


7. Vurp: A combination of burp and vomit.  Often referred to as "puking in your mouth."


8. Another drinking game where you drink the beer from your cup and then try to flip the empty cup onto its rim.  Each person on your team takes a turn and you race against another team.  Apparently it was big where Dee went to college.  It was not big where I went to college.


9. By "some" I mean exactly two series per team.  That was all it took to wear everyone out.  Sounds like old people to me.


10. Or everybody caught on and just didn't say anything out of pity for the old man.


11. Not just an old man, but a cheap old man.

Friday, May 15, 2009

In Orbit

I got the following message from my uncle - who is an astronaut, by the way.


When I got commissioned in the Air Force, David gave me a nametag for my dress blues that he had worn as a cadet.  It just had the last name “FORD”, so it worked just as well for me.  We both wore it on our uniforms.

I thought you might like to know that it is aboard the Space Shuttle Atlantis this week orbiting at 350 miles high, and right in the cabin with the crew repairing and upgrading the Hubble Space Telescope.

My friend, Drew Feustel, was gracious enough to take it along into Space.

My dad would be proud to know that the nametag he gave his little brother made it into space.  He would be even prouder to know that his little brother made it into space - which he will this summer.

Wednesday, May 06, 2009

The Brett Mistake

I feel sorry for Vikings fans.  They have the best running back and defensive line in the league and a decent set of receivers.  They are the kind of team that is a few players away from being dominant.  And their management is going to screw it up.  In fact, they've already got a head start.

They weren't even a serious contender when Jay Cutler was on the block.  Stupid.  You put Jay Cutler on the Vikings and they would be in position to dominate the NFC for years.  Years.  We're talking Patriots and Colts kind of domination.  Instead, they grabbed Sage Rosenfels.  Remember Rosenfels?  He was last seen single-handedly giving a game away to the Colts.

Now they're talking to Brett Favre.  I can only hope - for the sake of Vikings fans everywhere - that they come to their senses and pass on Favre.  He's 40 years old and is recovering from a pretty serious arm injury that only adds to the fact that the dude throws interceptions like they're going out of style.  Plus, he's unbenchable.  If the Vikings sign him, they've committed to Brett Favre being their quarterback until he physically can't walk onto the field anymore.  Because Brett Favre is Brett Favre, he'll never agree to play for a team that wants to use him as a backup.  He'll only agree to play if the team makes him the starter.  The best part is that it doesn't even matter if any of this starter nonsense is made known - everyone will assume this is the case anyway.  The fans and media will take the team to task if they bench him and they'll take the team to task if he plays like crap - which he will.  It's a no-win situation.

Only an idiot would sign Brett Farve at this point.  Unfortunately, there are plenty of idiots out there who think they'd be idiots not too.  Another no-win situation.

Either way, the Vikings aren't winning a Super Bowl next year.  For the sake of Vikings fans I hope Vikings' management realizes this and stays away from Brett Farve.  For my sake, I hope they sign him so that we can watch the Viking ship go down in purple flames.