1 | 25 | 2012 First World Life : it's so hard to be frustrated when life isn't handing you lemons.
Oddly one of reasons I started this site, is because it gave me the opportunity to vent about my smallest and biggest issues. However, with the fabulous wife I have, she seems to have all those things taken care of. Most of my issues are how my kids are being taught/treated/fed, etc.
I'm a big fan of 'signs' and happy coincidences. I wish I was psychic as my wife likes to accuse me of. Even though it would be awesome to have that power, I've only got the ability to eat salsa like it's being rationed out by the gov't.
My Son started playing basketball recently, and unlike football, we didn't choose his number. The coach ordered T-shirts and basically just handed them out before the first game started. Now, he's right in the middle as far as size, not the tallest, not the shortest. So he went to the coach while we all found someplace to sit. He comes back wearing #12.
I didn't think anything of it.
Later, I have the thought... what number did I wear in elementary school? I don't remember picking any number as I transferred halfway into the school year. So I go to search it.
And hey.. what a coincidence! (also, I kinda sucked at basketball)
While I was searching for that old picture of myself, I stumbled across a picture of my oldest sister.
No f'ing way. Damn hipster Trisha was doing it before it was cool.
Amazing sign from the basketball gods (one of the only few I believe in)? Or just another funny thing that happened on the way to courts? Either way, I had to share it.
I still refuse to be one of THOSE people, "today I ate at Harold's drive in for a burger and it was tasty but.. blah, blah.. stfu". So I've had to reserve my rants for things better deserving. Again, because my hot wife pretty much takes care of me in this life, everything else seems, well.... petty. I positive she's cast some wierd scottish spell on me. She's Part Scot you know, and they can be pretty sneaky.
Just look at those shift eyed bastards
These new thoughts are just my own and I thought I'd bring them up because it's the holiday season. Like This;
When you want to buy something from a 'real native' does it matter if it's good? I don't mean to say that you'll buy random crap because of who's hands touched it, I mean; If product A and product B are equal in quality, and they're both made in that 'native design' that you want, do you purchase product A because it's made by a native? And would that not count as racist as you're purchasing based on race and maybe even skin color? (you can buy those in a store nowadays)
What if Product B (made by a non-native) is better quality but more expensive? Would you feel a tinge of guilt for giving more money to someone else who simply copied the design? And maybe even improved it? It has happened before.
And who actually owns the design? It's widely accepted as a native/southwestern thing, but you can't patent a 'style' can you? Do we, as indians, lay copyright claim to shit we didn't actually INVENT?
12 | 22 | 2011 The circle of liiii... umm.. crap : I've come full circle on my parents.
You know that joke about your parents changing your diapers when you're little, then you have to do the same for them when they get old? I'm not there yet as I'm still perfectly capable changing my diapers by myself, thank you very much.
The holiday season hopped on me like a bear overdosed on viagra. Oddly, that used to be on my favorite threats against people I didn't like. It got me thinking of what the hell am I going to do for my parents for xmas? They have more money than me, so I can't really BUY them anything. I live too far away to offer free manual labor. Which leads me back to possibly creating them something.
When I was little I had NO money, so I would take my little hands and make a little present. Normally I was too self-involved to spend a lot of time on it, but when there was a grade involved, I'd make them an ashtray.. or a goblet. Not that they smoked, nor were they pimps in need of a 'pimp cup',
Dad? I wish you'd stop dressing up to show off that cup.
but as with all parents, it was the thought that counted.
So what can I make for them now? Well, I know a little photoshop and I take a lot of pictures with my fancy camera. I could make them a video, but then they'd only watch when the desire struck them, so I can make them something meaningful like images of me when I was little. Because, come on, I was adorable. Well, not good looking or anything, but sort of that weird cute that gizmo from the gremlins had. Weird looking, but unique enough that you didn't puke when you looked at me. I wonder if that's where they got my name?
Back to the subject at hand.
I'm buying them food and letting them babysit their grand kids.
Yay?
10 | 6 | 2011 What's that big number doing on my cake?: My sister managed to find me the present I just talked about in my last update.
Yup, that's the millenium falcon and a star wars lunchbox.
My wife was great... as usual. She created a perfect day by making me some food and let me play the games she bought all day. I already told her that she didn't have to spend any money, and i meant it. My life is already in a perfect phase. I have the normal firstworldproblems, like; My kids don't listen to me, the wireless isn't working very well, etc. But those are all minor inconveniences to the luck I have happened upon in my existence. Sometimes I forget to enjoy it everyday. Mostly, I take it all in a revel in the perfection. Aren't I lucky?
Henry David Thoreau once said "Give me the poverty that enjoys true wealth."
Also, do you think now that I'm an adult that I can jump off the roof in my superman underwear and a towel wrapped around my neck? Granted, my roof is a little taller now but I've gotten bigger, so it should all work out.. right?
I love these damn pictures.
9 | 16 | 2011 Birthday Presents : I've received many awesome birthday presents in my multiple lives here on this dirt rock. I can usually remember when it was grand or just perfect. There is one present that stand out from my childhood. I wonder, now that I'm a parent, if my kids will remember their awesome presents.
Granted, my kids are pretty spoiled. As every generation of parents tries to get their kids the things they didn't have and really wanted. We have to be careful as adults that we don't fall too far down that hole. Kids are still kids, just like we were. They may come to expect such things and they lose their value. I'm positive, if I was given all the toys I wanted as a kid, I wouldn't have treasured them as much as I did.
If I didn't have to scrap and save for the most meager of gifts, that GI joe would've just been a 'toy' and held no value to my 8 year old eyes. Though I do think it caused a strange obsession with action figures to this very day as I still look at them in the toy aisles every chance I get. But I'll let the doctors consider that issue on a seperate day.
The reason I'm here today? I remember opening this, on christmas morning.
yes, that's the googlin' millenium falcon. I didn't come from a rich family, nor did I come from a poor family. But we were a family of 4 (When I got this, 5 to come later) so it's not like we had a lot of expendable income. These things weren't cheap but as a kid, it was on my list anyway. I wasn't expecting to get it because I couldn't get 1.49 out of my parents for a new star wars guy when I begged and pleaded.
This absolutely surprised me. And I will remember it. I don't know how they afforded it. i just wanted to make sure my parents knew that it was that memorable and after all these years, I appreciate all they did for us kids. They truly are great parents and I hope to be the child they deserve. Thanks mom and dad.
Now watch this video and shut up
8 | 12 | 2011 I'm not scared of Spiders: For the first time ever, in my existence, I got a spider bite. It was nasty enough that it made me go see the old doc.
Also, it looked godamn disgusting. I'm not sure what kind of spider bite I got, but at least my skin didn't start melting. That's really my only fear when it comes to getting nibbles by the little bastards.
Co-ed Softball is starting up as well and as much as I'm looking forward to playing, it looks like it's going to be difficult. My daughter is cheering on saturdays and my son is playing football. I thought, it would work out perfectly. Saturday games for them, Friday night softball for me. Nope. Friday night football games for my son, saturday cheering for my daughter. It's got me screwed. So no co-ed softball for me this year. The baseball gods made it up for me though. A friend called and needed a fill in for his co-ed game.
I've been doing some pictures and looking for some inspiration lately. So I'll be posting some new pictures up soon. Here's a song you will probably hate me for putting up. But I like it.
Also, if you haven't heard AwolNation's Sail, you should give it a listen.
7 | 13 | 2011 Selling out to play : So I'm at my league softball game last week and if you haven't figured it out, it's run by a church. Nice enough guys trying to 'spread the word' and doing what they do. Since i'm not religious it doesn't really bother me, and also, I get to play softball. Which I love to do.
It seems I love it enough to give up a piece of my own soul.
There's a preacher/pastor guy talking to us and is trying to be interactive and doing a decent enough job of making people stand up, etc while all the teams are gathered out in the grass.
I'm sitting there playing with my phone and paying some attention to what he has to say, when all of a sudden he asked, 'does everyone want to go to heaven?'. Since I don't really believe in heaven or hell, I do as I always do and stay silent.
However, he then asks everyone to STAND UP that wants to go heaven. he says something to the effect of, 'your choice is heaven or hell, and all you have to do to get in, is stand up. So Everyone who wants to get into heaven, stand up now!''. I debate this as I don't really want to stand up. I consider faking a leg injury. I should have taken off my cleats so I couldn't stand in the grass.
Still, these are the guys I play ball with weekly. They're cool cats and other than one question (5+ years ago about my faith), they have always left me alone and been supportive in everything else. As much as my principle's tell me to stay seated, I stand up so I can keep playing ball with my friends and it doesn't lead to another discussion about religion.
So yes, i sold myself out. To play ball. Figured it may also keep my friends from getting bothered.
6 | 24 | 2011 Stupid Videos : Guess this is going to be lazy random image video posting day.
5 | 27 | 2011 Tornado Season : So it looks like the return of Gozer out there. Click for bigger pic.
Just thought you should be warned, and probably try not to turn into a dog if you live at the top of the AT&T building.
Here's some music to go along with your impending doom.
5 | 25 | 2011 So I could've died: There were major tornado warnings happening around Kansas City today. For the first time ever I had to go to the basement of this large brick building and try to keep from getting bored. Luckily I had my phone and a decent wi-fi connection to the IT office. Everyone else was stuck wandering around underground trying to get a signal.
I've already stated some rules about what will happen when I go 'shuffle off' and amongst them (besides no coffin) is that my funeral will be fun and glorious.
When my wife reads about me (I'm sure she'll outlive me for many, many reasons) I'll make sure she uses a big word like magnanimous. Then tell her to wait 20 seconds while people take out their phones to look up how to spell it and the definition. Once everyone starts getting the download she'll interrupt them to let them know it means "to be generous and forgiving of insult or injury, to be free from petty resentfulness."
Then she can make a joke about having a test after the service. ha ha.. then hand out papers with test questions about my life as they leave. I'll be sure to put an address to send them to be graded. Postage paid back to the cemetary of course. Hmm.. cemetary? The only place my lifeless corpse should be placed is in tornado alley. Then if it gets picked up by a tornado I can be found and listed amongst the 'dead'... again. That'll screw up someone's census numbers.
I wonder what grade my friends would score on a test about the great Snapmouse? I'd expect them to get all A's, but then, I'm not too sure. They probably suffer from test anxiety. That might not be the best thing to dump on someone as their crying over a loved one. My parents might do good though. My dad will get a C. Not because he doesn't know the answers, but because he always gets C's. No matter how well or poorly he knows the subject. Apparently he pissed off a Genie or Gypsy and now cursed to swim in the C's. (I'm funny, get it?).
My wife will probably get an A+ but really, she has the teacher's manual with the answers on the back. So she'll either know the answer because she's been told several times, or she'll just cheat and look on the answer sheet. Also, she's the teacher's pet.
4 | 21 | 2011 Life does it for you : So it's been an interesting Month in the snapmouse household.
I've always believed that life just happens. You can't plan it all out, you can only expect stuff to change and be prepared for it all times. When my friends and I would hang out for a big birthday, we would ask them for their sage advice on that day of their birth. I never really had one, but here's on for you now. "if you don't make your life interesting, life will do it for you."
2 weeks ago, Monday morning, I go out to start the car. It doesn't start, it clicks. Not a big deal, been having a few issues lately. So I go to pop the hood. I hit the latch, but before I get out, I try to key one more time.
I hear a high speed whirring sound and POP!
Something goes flying out from under the hood, then.. flames. BIG ROARING flames are coming out of the engine.
I panic and run around like a little girl for a second before remembering that the kids were playing with the water hose the day before. So I turn on the hose and start spraying the engine vigorously.
I need to contact someone inside to tell them call the Fire department in case this thing gets out of hand. So I take my phone out of my pocket and start trying to dial. I've never had a car fire before but if it's anything like the movies I'll have to run and jump away at the last second from a huge explosion.
In reality, I parked really close to the house the night before so we can play basketball. Now my main concern it keeping the flames from licking the house.
Luckily, my brilliant(sleeping) wife is awakened by the explosion, runs around the house looking for it (probably not like the little girl I looked like). Comes out and sees me on the phone trying to call her for help. She runs back in and grabs the fire extinguisher (My first thought is, we have a fire extinguisher?) and hands it to me. I trade her the hose and am able to put the fire out in a matter of seconds.
It's the first time in my life I've been able to pull the pin on an extinguisher. I have to admit, I liked it. I hope to never have to do it again. Unless of course I'm saving someone's life and they're going to thank me with a large cash settlement.
Anyone want to see a burned car engine after spraying it with the fire extinguisher?
2 | 18 | 2011 You can't sleep : Here is a story that most people will call bullshit on. I'd be happy to call bullshit myself so I don't blame you.
I had a ghost prank me.
In my old house on the rez, we always heard weird noises. I chalk 99% of them up to an overactive imagination and the opportunity for SOMETHING interesting to happen in my boring little town. I used to hear noises so much as a kid, that when I finally got a radio, I would just leave static coming through all night. There wasn't any way to get good reception up in the isolated mountains of New Mexico. So I figured it was good to have some white noise. I've never heard a noise through my static so those ghost hunter guys can can kiss the darkest part of my ass.
My sisters and I have shared several stories. I think they're crap. Their stories are probably just as true as mine, but I don't WANT to believe them, so there. That'll teach you to make me wear a dress.
Years and Years ago I was home from college in the summertime. My dad and I were the only ones staying at the house. So it was just the 2 of us (no pets) in this big 5 bedroom, 3 bathroom 2 story house. Anyway, I come back late one night from a softball game in Pagosa and had to go to the bathroom. My dad was asleep since it was around 11:30 or so. The bathroom door was one of those brown hollow construction doors. The kind you could probably fall through if you were really drunk. Or slightly tipsy. Or just happened to breath on it while walking down the hallway.
I sit down and finish my business, when I hear someone run their hand down the door. Imagine the nails on the chalkboard but with a cheap door. I jumped but immediately realized that my dad must've heard me and is trying to freak me out. It worked because I jumped when I heard the noise. Jokes on him though, because I was DONE. My pants were up and I was just reaching for the flush handle when I hear the noise. So I take the single step to the door and run out thinking I'll catch him sneaking back to his bed or hiding behind the wall somewhere.
Yank open the door and, well...... you guessed it.
Nothing. His bedroom door is right around the corner but his bed is a good 30 feet away. Past the laundry nook, past a huge dresser and all the way against the wall. Even IF he had sprinted to his bed and jumped in, I would have seen him either a. jump, or b. bounce ridiculously while trying not to laugh. He's snoring... quietly. Not that loud fake snore people do when they're trying to convince you they're sleeping.
There's no physical way he would've made the run to bed without me seeing him. Here's a crude drawing.
So unless my dad is the flash. This ghost decided that someone pooping at night is the best time to make noises. At least you're in the right position for shitting yourself. This is one of the few times that I HEARD something. Not a faint whisper or a 'did you hear that' moment. This was loud and obvious.
My friend have told me stories about my own house. I figure whatever lives there, I'll just leave them alone. Besides, we're probably on an indian burial ground. It is the rez after all.
2 | 14 | 2011 Valentines Day : What a stupid thing to call something
I live a perfect life. I really do. I have a job that allows me to learn and it difficult enough so that it's never boring. My wife is way out of my league (and yes, I understand that saying something is out of your league is the same as admitting your own lack of self-confidence). But she's way hotter than a schlub like me should get to ogle without threat of a restraining order.
She deserves a good Valentines day. And not because it's a 'special day to honor your loved ones'. I've gone over how moronic that is. Since every goddamn day should be a special day. It's special because it gives ME an EXCUSE to do something just for HER. She puts up with a lot from me. My laziness, stupidity, smelliness and general disregard for order. My every attempt at romantic spontaneity is ruined by own practicality.
Did I also mention I'm lazy?
Still;
she laughs when I'm not trying to be funny.
She doesn't when I am.
She threatens to bite me but doesn't have the heart to follow through She plays video games with me
She puts up with my punk music
She doesn't mind when my smelly friends come visit and stay with us
If I could:
I'd buy her a castle in england (because she says she doesn't want one and means it)
I'd send her on a romantic holiday away from the kids for a week or so.
of all the romantic things I could do for her, this is the one I'd do the most. But it's not very practical.
I'd make her a mix tape
1 | 27 | 2011 Chapter 4: Wherein our hero needs money;
My good friend, Let's call him Sony, sent me one of those stupid questionnaire things a while back and it was just a hair different but still pretty trite and something I refused to fill out on sheer principal. Just like when I get an email about a prayer for xsus it's immediately deleted and not forwarded even with the threat of bankruptcy, loss of love life, scabies, rabies, hair loss, genital warts, bad breath and feline aids....There was one question I found interesting.
Name 3 jobs people don't know you held.
Wow, another chance to talk about how awesome I am? Sign me up!. Since I lied about my age so I could start working early, I've had numerous jobs. Some of them crap, some of them dazzling and some of them could barely be described as a 'job'. Who else do you know LIED so they could work at YOUNGER age? Well, besides those poor kids in malaysia who made your shoes so you can put them in the closet and never wear them? Still feeling good about yourself? Huh?
Little League coach (sorta).
I say sorta because this was on the rez. There weren't any other little league teams there to play against. The tribe wasn't going to pay for insurance to have us bus these little guys out of town to compete against another little league team. They also weren't going to pay for equipment, balls, catcher's uniforms, etc. So calling us Coaches is really pushing it. There were 4 of us that summer. My boss (who happened to be one of my best friends) and 2 of my other closest friends. Combine that with kids from the age of 6 to 14. You would think we'd have 100 kids out there. We probably never made it past 40. That's IF they showed up. Most days I'd say it was close to 20. Being around that many kids for an entire summer I learned that some kids have bad parents. The kids with good parents were smart enough to not leave their kids with us. The probably sent them to space camp while we kept ours from throwing rocks at each other.
.........Some kids have great parents and hardly any kids WANT to play baseball. On really hot days we'd all go down to the river and swim around, well, splash around. It wasn't deep. Or we'd go to the swimming pool, or the bowling alley, or the gym to play basketball. How did you find a rock in a basketball court? Stop throwing them! What's wrong with you kid? So it wasn't really little league as much as it was daycare for kids too old for daycare. Do you want to know what I remember most about that summer? Of course you do, you are my broken robot friend.
..............I remember: 16oz mountain Dews in glass bottles, Jimmy Fingers, Rubio, Mentirosa by Mellow Man Ace.
On-Air Radio DJ
I did this for 2-3 years. I had to work from 7-midnight. Top 40 stuff. I actually enjoyed doing this. the hours sucked and I realized back then that I do not have the correct radio voice for this type of work. I don't have a terrible voice but most people don't know what they REALLY sound like. You get it when you hear a recording of yourself on a voicemail or something. Noise reducing headphones in studio show you quickly what your voice is really like. I got to talk to a number of interesting people, then put them on the air for my own personal entertainment. (I don't think anyone really listened to me then either). So it's pretty much a precursor to this website. Great, now I'm depressed.
............I remember: Iceman, Color Me Badd, Mixtapes for my sister Trisha
Casino Pit Boss
After I eliminated my own job they gave me a 'promotion' to attempt other positions at the Apache Nugget Casino. You know what you learn about in this position? Delusion. Casinos would not exist if people did not willingly hand over money. Casinos hold 98.1% of the money that walks in the door. It's probably higher now. 99% always think they'll be part of the 1.9%. The entire business is based on people waiting for their number, their card, their slot to caChing them in the face. Once in a while, they get it. That 1.9% is in their hands. They are up a solid 5note. I smile a little bit for them. I have, on occasion, told them that they should walk away. Take the money and run. No, really, I know what I'm talking about. They then proceed to give it back.
........... I remember: Keep an eye on 1st and 3rd base. Cheaters only get caught because they get greedy and Never, EVER play the field in craps.
1 | 20 | 2011 I think I'm going to start a checkmark plus+ or minus- system when it comes to politicians. There are some that lie so BADLY that they'll be so far in the negative zone they'll have to jump to wipe their own assholes. I'lll have to base all my research off factcheck.org and politifact.
For example: Rand Paul(R).
Misused this quote. That's pretty low there Rand. - 2 points. Why -2 and not -1? Because that was a blatant lie and misuse. Most politicians will speculate or use sketchy data to support their claim. Where it's somewhat true, but not totally supported. That's a -1. I get the feeling there won't be many people hanging out in the plus column being able to look down at us. Since factcheck and politifact and snopes already exist, someone needs to start keeping score for these buttplugs.
I'm not even upset anymore that they lie. There have been numerous studies that people in power tend to use the power to stay in power. They become better at lying, manipulating and straight out bad guy deeds when given the sweet whiff of easy money. Even average everyday people have tendencies towards this. Postively influenced or not. It's always happening. The Stanford Prison Experiment was the first I heard of this, then over and over again. What bothers me most is myself.
That's right. I'm part of the damn problem I'm complaining about. I don't like X. So i tell people about X. Then, that's it. Where do I go from there? It's not like I can burn their cat and rape their yard (wait, that's backwa... no it's ok), because of something shitty they did. The phsychiatrist says downer things like "those are not healthy thoughts" and, "let's change the subject" but nothing ever gets fixed. I believe he's in on it..... I wonder who he's working for? I'm gonna need some more cats.
Also read this today. It's exactly how I feel sometimes.
1 | 5 | 2011 Xmas has come and gone. It was busy again. Spent too much money, again. I love that I can spoil my kids. I hate that I can't stop myself from spoiling my kids. Maybe it's because I grew up poor. It doesn't help them at all that they don't know what poor really is. Even my version of poor isn't the worst. I was damn lucky back on the rez.
1 | 4 | 2011 My site is WAS down. Broken. Server failure, data completely lost, 1's and 0's that were never given a chance to grow up. They'll never see their families again. There is no hope for them. The are now part of the eternal ether of cyberspace and their children will mourn their loss for generations....
So... if you can read this, it's all been moved to another server. here's a video link for you. Watch me!
I don't have Twitter. I've considered it because my random thoughts might be interesting to someone other than myself. That's not true. In. The. Least. My random thoughts are only interesting to me and the person who's within earshot. Even that moment is lost about 2 seconds after I say it. It's a waste of space and time. If you've read this far, you've missed the point. But I thank you for being my dysfunctional friend.
twitter thoughts:
- An easy way to well if someone is mexican or not? They like taco bell. No real mexican likes taco bell, or even worse, considers it mexican food.
- Why are protests championed but then ignored almost immediately?
- It's odd that all these Psychological bias are something that I am guilty of multiple times in my life.
11 | 03 | 2010 If you haven't seen Cee-Lo Green's Video yet. Watch it.
Day after midterm election. People I know well, always like to say things like "it doesn't matter who gets voted in, they're all the same". And in a LOT of ways, More than I care to admit, they are dead on right.
However. When you pay attention to history, there are a number of things that seem to happen over and over again. People forget about those things. They don't remember who voted for what bill when it affects them a year later. They don't even bother to check who made the change or VOTED for a change. There are idiots like this who understand how the government or economics work yet still feel the need to talk about it.
9 | 23 | 2010
I grew up in the woods. I don't mean I was raised by a pack of porcupines and learned to kill for food. I mean my back yard was a forest. Not a big piece of farmland that went back a mile or two. It was literally the San Juan and the Rio Grande national forest. If I were to walk directly north from my house I wouldn't see a house until well into colorado. For those of you that don't believe me, I will come over and take a dump in your hair. For the rest of you, this was the view from my backyard.
That pointed end there is called Dulce Rock. Apparently we suck at naming things. You'll notice the balcony and roof on the right side of the picture and our little chain link fence on the bottom left. In hindsight I'm not sure why the fence existed. Must be to keep out the mountain lions. natch.
If you were to walk up to "Dulce Rock", it would take about an hour depending on how short your legs were and how much alcohol you had consumed already, (this is the rez you know). Now if you were to STAND up there. This is what you would see. See that little red circle? That's where I was standing when I took the first picture.
I say this because I spent many a day wandering in those mountains. We entertained ourselves with whatever our feeble imagination could muster that day. We had war games, hiding games and just plain walked around in the trees. I grew up in that forest. I grew up in the woods. Wrestled bears, ate snakes and whatever else that may entail.
Now this brings me to my point of this point (there's a point?). People can't seem to understand why i don't like camping. I thought all the above, grampa simpson like ramblings would make it all obvious. No? There's nothing in the woods that would make me WANT to stay there for an extended period. I don't need the quiet solitude. I don't need the 'roughing it' aspect. If I wanted to rough it as a kid, I'd just have to not come home at night.
If I wanted some s'mores, I'll start a fire in the fireplace and roast marshmallows. Inside. Where there's no mosquitos and soft places to lie down. No tug of wars with those greedy deer and elk. Just me and my four walls and 400 calories of burning sugar.
All I need is a shade under a tree to feel nature's cool embrace. A thunderstorm to remind me of her awesome power and clear starry night to prove that it'll be be here long after I'm gone. Regardless of how hard I 'roughed' it.
I wouldn't say I'm a huge BHTM fan, but he does the blues and is a great guitarist so he's always fun to watch. He played at the Crossroads in Kansas City. A few interesting things to point out.
They have bleachers there off to the sides and out of the way. I can understand having some seating since it's just a big open area, BUT, You have to pay to sit on the bleachers. Crappy little bleachers that are shoved against the fence without a decent view of the stage. Extra. Weird.
My back and knees are not used to standing for 4 hours straight. Sure I guess I could've sat on the ground but they had woodchips down. It's not comfy to sit there, but as my wife pointed out, it's hilarious to watch women in heels try to walk.
The iphone4 takes better video than I've ever expected. I'm still amazed at the video quality of this phone. I think it's better than my 3 year old handheld sony Cam.
8 | 5 | 2010 So we made it to Harry Potter world at Universal Studios Islands of adventure in Orlando Florida. Now, you may be wondering why I typed that all out. It's because it explains a bunch of things that I didn't know before we got out there. I'm probably just an idiot but here's the breakdown. Some of it I already knew. Some of it.. I didn't read anywhere that made sense to my poor lizard brain. That scientist lied when he said it would give me lizard powers.
1. There are 2 Universal Studios. One is called Islands of Adventure. 2. Harry Potter castle is inside IOA. 3. Also located inside IOA, Dr Suess Land, Posieden's Fury, Jurassic Park, Comic Strip Land, Marvel Comic Book land.
4. In Marvel land some superheros come out and take pictures with people. Apparently they used to have bad guys come and fight for a quick show, but not when we were there.
5. My kids are NOT used to long lines. We stood in a 45 minute line at Dr Suess land and the kids acted like it was the end of the trip. This was the first ride we went to by the way.
6. $50 a ticket gets you into the express line for all the rides. That's for an actual transferrable ticket. Not a wristband, not a thumbscanner or something. So we could hand it off to each other. (no express line for Harry Potter's ride) 7. When you see a ride and the wait time is 65 minutes, you take the xpress and get on in less than 3. It's TOTALLY worth every single penny.
8. Comic strip land has a cool sunday funnies design. Hagar the horrible, Popeye, Family circus, marmaduke, Dudley Do Right... my kids had no idea who any of them were but liked the water rides there.
7 | 27 | 2010 Here's a couple of things I saw online that made me giggle. That's right. That Apache language is considered Foreign. Isn't that.. umm. is it Ironic?
July 22nd , 2010
I keep forgetting to link to my sister's website. She stole our name! HISPACHE.COM
July 4th , 2010
This needs to be added to my speech about Native American mascots. All you indians who feel 'threatened' by this need to read this. Or this.
Do you think these guys did this for degradation or marginalization purposes? Nope.. the did it because they were badass and thought it was badass. That's a goddamn compliment.
May 11th, 2010
There's a little rant for you here today. I'll preface it with this. My league softball game was supposed to start on monday and it got rained out. Suck.
It got me thinking about the stuff I needed to remember to bring for the first game. Glove, bat, shoes, $35 and sign a waiver.
Waiver to play softball. Well, i guess the church wants to protect itself from being sued in case someone gets hurt, because in sports there's an inherent risk of injury. So they don't want to get sued, by someone who KNOWS it's a sport and as such.. injuries, well, happen.
Still, they need a waiver because some asshole participating in this doesn't know they might get hurt. So there's my stupid signature stating, "I might get hurt playing this sport and I promise not to blame someone ELSE for it.". If I could get a lawyer to add "if you don't know this is a possibility, you're an idiot, please never procreate". Then again, as a lawyer, he'd prefer the opportunity to sue at any instance.
Update: June 3rd, 2010. I hurt myself. Pulled a hamstring in the second inning. I wonder if I should sue?
April 20th, 2010
I heard a story on the radio the other day about some bad rain coming down on the freeway so some couple decided to STOP of the freeway. Not pull off, not slow down or pull over. They simply got under an overpass and stopped. This of course caused accidents, slide-offs and destroyed the flow of traffic for MILES behind them. First thing I thought was, "I hope they got fined through every orifice in their being... and then new orifices to be made and fined as well".
What kind of moron STOPS on the freeway?
Turns out it's a $175 fine. (if your like me and had to pay a $110 speeding ticket for doing 66 in a 55, your brain should've just stroked out at that number)
Think about that the next time you're in 25mph rush hour traffic. What would happen if you were to just stop right there in your lane? Not pull off, just dead stop and get out for a quick stretch and walk around.
You MAY get a ticket. There's not enough swear words in the english language.
April 16th, 2010
Allow me to clear up a few things about native americans. Better yet, let me point out some ridiculous shit I see and hear on a constant basis. It's like one of those phones with the annoying rings that people refuse to answer. It just keeps ringing and you're overcome with the urge to eat it, poop it out, then make the offender eat their shit-covered phone.
First: Dreamcatchers.
I grew up among the Pueblos, Apaches, utes and Navajo, I mean Dine. It wasn't until the mid 90's that I first saw a dreamcatcher. According to wikipedia it's Ojibwe. If can manage about 2 seconds of research you'll see that it's like a coffee filter for dreams. Which is kinda cool, but it's also become a symbol of tacky design by a number of other indians. It's also supposed to be by your bed, where you sleep.. and you know.. dream. Putting it in your car just makes me think you don't know what the word 'dream' means. Or possibly you sleep while you drive.
Second: Indian Names
Look, you can't give yourself an indian name. That's not how it works. Indian names are earned. One way or another. That's how it is with my tribe anyway. You get your name through brave acts or something as random as dumb shit you did once. (yup, "forgot to wipe" is probably a name somewhere) My son doesn't have his yet. My daughter JUST got hers and she's 10. You don't get to pick a cool name like "flying strong eagle" and say it's yours. My tribe also doesn't get the names from parents. A practice that I happen to strongly agree with. Parents don't see their kids objectively. Otherwise all indian boys would called "little warrior" or other boring shit like that. I've seen indian names that range from "kicking woman" to "one who runs away" to "growing thunder". Though when I first heard that last one, I thought they said "groin thunder" and figured it would be the greatest indian name ever.
Third: There's no such thing as a Cherokee princess
You can't claim to be indian if you have no idea what a real indian is. I don't claim to be German. I know nothing about Germany. The language, the culture, the history, well.. everyone knows a little of german history and it's not really that great. You can't take someone who grew up on the reservation, surrounded by their language, culture, tradition, hardships of growing up a minority in poverty stricken-third world environment, and knowledge of their tribes trials and how they survived all that and then say "oh, I'm indian too!". No, you fuckstick, you're not.
Not even close. However, if you say "i've got indian blood in me but I don't know anything about the tribe". That's more acceptable.
Fourth: Native Americans drink a lot
Well, they do like to drink but from my experience, we don't drink any more or less than anyone else. It's just a stereotype that's not entirely wrong. It's akin to saying, white people watch a lot of TV. It just so happens that when indians drink it's noticeable and feeds the stereotype. Like a black kid in the hood walking with his 'pants on the ground'. Not every black person dresses like that, but when you see it there, you just notice it. Same thing.
Here's your picture of the day.
March 19th, 2010
I've been speaking of insurance and death lately.It got me thinking of my awesome funeral. I'm not much of a partier so I'm trying to make up for that by having a raucous party when I'm dead.
I asked my wife and friends to pitch in on the songs that they want played at their funeral. I found some of them to be off the wall and excellent ideas.
shoot to thrill - ac/dc
you're all i've got tonight - cars
stairway to heaven - led zep
rocket queen - guns n roses
back in the saddle - aerosmith
ballroom blitz - tia carrere version
Alive by Pearl Jam followed by
dead man's party by oingo boingo on the funeral march.
Journey To The East Bay By Rancid as they're laying me into the fire.
THen as you are throwing my ashes off of "the Hill", you can play
Too young to fall in love by the Crue.
Then as your walking away the safety dance by men in hats so you can all do the "s" dance.
hells bells AC/DC
redemption song BOB MARLEY
another one bites the dust - QUEEN
amazing grace - D-CHILD
someday never comes - CCR
my own prison - CREED "Negative Creep" Nirvana, off the BLEACH album.
Just play the entire - NEVERMIND album by Nirvana.
That actually inspired a few songs for me:
First:
Another One Bites the Dust by queen to be played IN the hearse.
Olympia, WA - Rancid
2000 Light Years Away- Green Day
Tin Cup Chalice - Jimmy Buffet
ha, Ha You're dead - Green Day Tequila - just so people can do the Pee Wee Dance I'm Going Down - Mary J Blige John Wayne's Teeth
Gangsta Lean - DRS
I Remember - Griffin House
Hang me Up To Dry - Cold War Kids
Seaside - The Kooks
Take it To the Limit - The Eagles
Better Than Ezra - Get You In
Basket Case - Green Day
Dwight Yoakum - 2 Doors Down
Kickstart my Heart - Motley Crue The Guy that says goodbye to you is out of his mind - Griffin House
I'm doing my best to avoid cliche'd songs (no amazing grace or stairway to heaven for me), but I still find myself leaning that way. Another one bites the dust is the biggest offender. I think I should make a list of "You play this song and my ghost will take a ghost dump on your head". First song I thought of? "Good Riddance" by Green Day. Under no circumstances should that song play.
My co-worker just responded to this by saying 'that's.. morbid'. Is it really? Am I used to discussions like this? Death is a pretty common occurance on the rez. I've lost my sister, countless cousins, aunts, uncles before I even hit thirty. Maybe once you go to enough funerals it becomes as common as, well, bbq's and parties with old friends and relatives.
February 18th, 2010
I have been wanting to redesign this site for about 3 years now. AT LEAST 3 years. I'm going to try to load Drupal or wordpress, I just haven't had to the time to figure all that out.
My days normally consist of what most of the population does. I go to work, eat, go home, play with the kids, watch movies, go to sleep. It's like groundhog day but there's not enough time in each day to steal a groundhog and drive if off the damn cliff.
Here's my cool picture of the day.
This is an old Church in Kansas City. I'm not sure if the Asylum sign on top is because someone used it as a haunted house at some point? But it's all kinds of cool and creepy looking. It's actually for sale too.
December 9th, 2009
This is a story I've told before. Pretty much everyone who knows me, knows this story. But it's one of my favorites and I'll tell it to the next person who pays me the slightest bit of attention. (also, I wanted to tell it before the alzheimers kicked in and it ended with with Yosemite sam and Mr T trapped in a freezer, like my dreams). It's kind of long so I trimmed it a lot. Still, it needed some backstory.
When I resided in Dulce, we always tried to: or did, play in a tournament in Ft Duchesne, Utah called "Tournament of Champions". It was all-indian tournament with big prizes and cool jackets for the winners. Invites went across the country to all indian nations. Utah was a good middle point for the northern tribes and about an 10-12 hour drive for us. Long way to drive for a tournament? You bet. Are we taking a damn good squad if we're gonna drop a $300 entry fee, drive and rent rooms? Hell yes.
I'll see if I can remember everyone on that team. I'm sure The Sony or Bux will let me know if I'm wrong.
Bux, Sony, Stan, Wilby, Koda, Sensei?, Mike and me. I think I'm missing someone. 3 of those players were over 6'4". Me and Sony are right about 6'0 and 6'1". Bux, Stan and Wilby were the smaller shooting guards.
This was basically a Dulce All-star team.
When we hit the tournament (late game on friday night), we came out a little flat and LOST the first game by about 8 points. We got it together toward the end so everyone seemed ok with the loss. Especially after that drive. We should've cooked that team, but it was early in the tourney. The bad thing was, that loss sent us to the losers bracket. This is where the tournament gets fun.
We were the goddamn 1990 UNLV running rebels. If you don't know who they are. Here's a quicky from wiki Billed as one of the greatest teams of all time, the 1990-91 squad became the first team in 12 seasons to go undefeated in the regular season (27-0). A perfect record of 18-0 captured the Big West crown. their games in the tourney went like this. w, 102-72
w. 76-65
w. 131-101
w. 90-81
w. 103-73... Their games in the tournament were almost as impressive as ours.
Our tournament had a mercy rule. "if one team is up by 30 points or more with less than 5 minutes then the game is called on mercy"
We utterly demolished that bracket coming from the downside.
We mercy'd at least 2 teams. One from seattle and one from North Dakota.
One of our games should've ended about 5 minutes after the start of the second half. We ran and ran those poor teams til only one player at a time was able to defend our 3 on 1 and sometimes 4 on 1 breaks. The Elevation of Ft Duchesne is 4,990 FT, which is pretty high so some of these teams thought they could run with us. That is until they ran into the Jicarilla. Dulce is 6778 FT. That's a good 1700 feet of less oxygen. They never should've tried to run us.
It was one of the most fun times I've had playing in a tournament. The problem was coming loser's bracket so the games were back to back to back. Sometimes, we'd get about an hour before we had to play again and some games were 15 minutes apart. This happened all day saturday. We had to, and did, win every single game. And won them easily.
Sunday was almost the same. Game, after game, after game. We made it back to championship and by then, averaged about 104 points a game. This is more impressive when you take into account that they are 20 minute halves and the clock does NOT stop. Free throws, clock runs, out of bounds, clock runs. It's the old Running clock rule.
Every person on our team played the role they were good at. Nobody was trying to become a guard if they couldn't handle the ball. The big guys were boxing out and getting boards and letting the shooters shoot. And shoot they did. Sony, Bux, Stan, Wilby all had a huge game in there. I'm talking close to 50 points for a different shooter for each game. 3 of our 6ft+ shooters were damn good long range shots as well. There was no stopping that team.
At one point we played this younger college team that was giving us fits. Bux said "give the ball to billy, he's used to playing this game". It worked, we frustrated them and they imploded on themselves. That was my game.
We had about 45 minutes to wait for the championship game. I was told that a lot of people come to watch this game because it's a nationwide competition and a lot of other teams stick around because of the time invested. I remember laying down on a top bleacher and almost falling asleep until it was time to warm up. I picked the shirt off my head and the place was PACKED. It was like a high school game on the rez. Why the hell were there this many people for tournament championship?
I was excited to play and we've been playing so well, there was no way this wasn't in the bag. Everyone seemed relaxed and ready to go.
....50 minutes later
we scored 58 points. 58! Shooters couldn't hit the three. Bad bounces, big plays by the other team. Nothing went right. We were the 1991 UNLV running rebels, and we lost to christian laettner. CHRISTIAN FUCKING LAETTNER. So, this is what it felt like.
After the game I sat on the floor and was just demolished. The other team was good, but they were in no way better than us. NOT. EVEN. CLOSE. We just never got it going. We lost by 6. They were giving out the prizes and leather first place jackets, we sat there and watched. Nobody said a word. There wasn't any one person to blame. it's like we all knew that we each cost us that game. Second place prizes came and I don't know who went up and got our sweatshirts. SWEATSHIRTS! 10 hours for a goddamn sweatshirt. I remember giving it back to my friends sister who handed it to me. I said I didn't want it.
I don't remember the drive home. I don't remember what happened the rest of that year. But i remember that tournament.
November 12th, 2009
I was on the rez! I had fry bread! It was good. They had red and green chili. I heard people talking Apache. My kids and wife got to see the race. My kids saw bunches of indians. They heard them speaking Apache. (click on pic for set)
It was a great trip.
Just last week we (mostly me) did some leaf raking and then made a mess of them. These are the awesome pictures.
Last week me and my wife celebrated her birthday in style. I'd like to say more. Let's just say, it was more like my birthday than hers. Also, I wanted to post these pictures so I'm keeping it short.
August 20th, 2009
Big news is me and my tribe are headed to the rez for Go-Jii-Ya. This should be cool because it's been YEARS since I've been out there for this celebration. I'm more excited that my kids and wife get to see what I've been talking about.
Traditionally there's a footrace between the 2 clans. It's a straight track and it runs like a relay race. I only ran once in my whole life. That track is a LOT longer than it looks.
When I told my friends I was coming down, one of them asked me: "are you going to run?"
Simply put:
Hell no! I'm not running. My fat ass would collapse half way down the track. The paramedics will have to call in a truck to tow my ass to the end just so we can continue the race. It wouldn't be pretty either. Have you ever seen a reluctant dog get dragged by a leash and just scrapes it's face along the ground? Yeah, like that. I can't think of any reason to damage children with large flabs of meat tromping halfway down the track and inexplicably stopping to die. kids would be heard saying:
"daddy, is that how the dinosaurs died?".
"yes son, almost exactly".
August 18th, 2009
There is good news on the horizon. We might actually be moving into our house before the next milennium. It seems like a LOONG time. It has been a LOOONG time. The entirety of summer to be exact. School started today and my Byrd is a 4th grader. I'm proud of her. Even after all the complaining and fights over homework and time to read... she's still a good student.
On to the house. I took some pictures last week with my new fancy camera. Most camera buffs won't think of my camera as fancy, but I spent a good drop of cash on the damn thing. So to me, it's a fancy camera. Shut up.
Here's some pictures of how the interior is looking.
Look like we actually have a place to live. The picture makes the room look bigger than it actually is as well. Don't be fooled. We've got lots of brand new stuff. Everything but the kitchen sink (and counters) is new.
That's right. That Apache language is considered Foreign. Isn't that.. umm. is it Ironic?
