I just wanted to capture this moment and preserve it in a blog so I can look back from the future and say, “wow, that was worth it”. It’s inconceivable at my current state to believe so, but given time, I thing it will happen. Almost as if I am shouting to my future-self saying, “FUTURE-SELF! YOU’RE FUCKING WELCOME!” I can feel him reading this now. That smug bastard.
Or wait, what if I am to be future-failure-self and all this is for not? What if I am burning present-self to oblivion and future-self is reading this shouting, “STOP! STOP! I’M A DAIRY FARMER IN SACRAMENTO! YOU DON’T NEED ANY OF THIS!” To that I say…I need to get back to present-self. Fuck off future-self.
I am sure that future-self hates me right now and I get that. I look at past-self with a semi-satisfactory opinion and I don’t believe that is too out of the ordinary. I mean who doesn’t strive to better each day so there is no way that future-self can be reading this without an eye roll or two. Some of past-self’s actions deserve ball punches with extreme prejudice and I am hoping future-self is not as critical from this point forward. And now I am done writing on this.
I was watching Caddy Shack for the 400th time yesterday and I thought I had just about every line committed to memory until I caught the a subtle interaction between the Judge and his grandson, Spalding. It’s very quick but it is now my new favorite quote.
Spalding (teeing off but doing poorly): “TURDS!”
Judge: “Spalding watch your language!”
Spalding: “Sorry Grandpa.”
(Tries again) “DOUBLE FARTS!”
Well, I managed to cross the 100 mile per week running goal and I think this will be maintained for the foreseeable future. I am really surprised how good I feel, though. There is little soreness, the feet are fine, no knee and back issues and the runs are at a quick pace. The military side of me believes I am not pushing myself hard enough because without pain there is no gain but the 32 year old side of me is knocking on wood while doing the Bartakomous’s, “dance of joy”. This may culminate catastrophically but really, do I do it any other way?
NEW FAVORITE SHOW!
I was watching Bert the Conqueror last week and I am a huge fan. He reminds me of someone and it is bugging the hell out of me that I can’t think of who. Regardless, this show is great and I highly recommend it. So watch it. That’s an order.
It’s official! I am on the summer countdown now. The snow and ice in North Idaho has taken this southern boy from happy-go-lucky to Pissy McPissface in less than three months. And after looking at the week forecast that is calling for snow, I have decided to light up a pinacolada candle, put on some Hawaiian surf rock, lather up in Banana Boat and start the mind trip to late May. Here is your Summer fun list for 2009.
Holy shit this is a great movie! Sure the more sophisticated summer movie connoisseur would pick Caddy Shack if given the choice of Bill Murray movies but there is something about camp that gets me in the summer mood. It kind of sucks that I am too old even to be a counselor but it brings back so many great memories. Memories like late night practical jokes on other cabins, the nervous tension of being forced to spend a week bunking with kids you don’t know, the sadness of the last campfire, and how we all thought the counselors were so cool and the subject of camp rumors and gossip. I still remember thinking that a blow job was something done to an ear. I want that innocence back.
There are three different but distinct pool days I have in my memory.
Rumor has it this kid was in mid-stream when this picture was taken. That’s a lie, but it kind of looks that way, huh? Anyway, I grew up in a neighborhood that didn’t have a community pool so we were forced to jump through the sprinklers or breakout what my Dad called the “yard killer”; the kiddie pool. I remember these plastic pools from K-Mart to be as much fun as they look above. Even for an only child who had an imagination that could keep him entertained for an eternity during Catholic mass, this pool, with floating pine needles and drowned yellow jackets, really sucked. Especially when you have a friend over and the suck is multiplied by two. Ugh! I can still smell the hose water and see the pool toys that were just fancy McDonald Happy Meal boxes in the shape of boats.
The next step up is being invited to the friend’s neighborhood pool. That’s an exciting summer day.
Wow…sharks and minos, underwater tea parties, chicken, handstands, cannonballs, jackknives, and of course my famous 1/3 flip off the diving board. That’s always good for a laugh. I also remember the packed lunch and how Hi-C, peanut butter sandwiches, Doritos and Sunkist Fun Fruits never tasted so good. I tried it the other day and it just isn’t the same without chlorine and uncontrollable shivering.
Being a grown up now, the pool is a different place than it was when I was a kid.
First off, it’s a place I generally drink beer and read. Those are the two things I didn’t do when I was a kid. Also I rarely go into the water because it is usually occupied by 12 year olds and that age group really pisses me off in recreational environments. It’s just a great time to catch up with a good book, drink a dozen beers and sweat them out while working on a one-sided tan because I hate laying on my stomach. I can never get comfortable. Are you suppose to stick your face between the chair straps?
Boats are great with the right people. You need fun couples or perhaps your drunk buddy who constantly impersonates the scene in Forest Gump when he spots Lt. Dan on the dock and wave/walks off the side of his own vessel. But one summer I spent a week on a houseboat with my best friend at the time and his family. Sounds great, right? Well…they were from Great Britain and we had a steady diet of bake beans and toast and Christmas cake (fruit cake with icing). Oh yeah, and I was stung by a bunch of wasps while tying the boat to a tree trunk. It was a C- week at best.
The other day I was having dinner with some friends and we barbecued steak and corn on the cob. It hit me when I confused the texture of the corn with the steak and the tomatoes in the salad and also the baked potato, that I miss food that is in season. Here are some yums we get to look forward to in the next few short months.
Anything that comes in one of these is great. If it is served by this guy it will be a minor explosion of amazing.
Pasta salad is the must at all outdoor activities that includes food. If I am present at a picnic and the is no pasta salad expect me to remove the picnic blanket and use it as a cape as I run around and step on the rest of the food. Expect it.
Couple of dogs and a beer. It’s hard to imagine lips, assholes and yeast to be a summer must but it is. Especially at a weekday 1pm Cubbies game when you skip work to go. “Heyyy batta batta, sawingg batta!! He can’t hit he Can’t hit he can’t hit…”
Quarter sliced watermelon that is wrapped in Reynold’s Wrap. Don’t know why but this is summer to me. But every time I eat watermelon I get a dull pain in my tongue from a watermelon eating race gone bad back in 1985. I remember I bit my tongue and lost the race. As I sat there in failure, holding ice wrapped in a paper towel on my tongue, I was awarded a “nice try” gift. It was bubbles. Insult!
Spring training cranked up and baseball is only a few short weeks away. But here in Idaho I have to rely on minor league games for my live game fix. That’s cool. Maybe they’ll have a “bring your horse day” or something. There is a reason that Field Of Dreams was not filmed here. The line “..is this Heaven?” would not be followed by “No, it’s Idaho”. I believe it would be, “No…are you fucking high?”.
This is one I sorely miss. Soon I will not have to make the choice to run in the morning when it is 15 degrees out or wait until night when it is 22 degrees out. No longer will I be five miles out and step in a slush/ice puddle and have to finish with a frozen foot. I mean, a real frozen foot. No, soon it will be perfect for hauling around the lake and getting a tan.
OUTDOOR MUSIC FESTIVALS!
Do I really need to expand on this one? It’s part of the reason the Earth tilts on it’s axis, you know. But remember, if you see Megadeth this summer, leave the laser pointer at home. See below. I’m pretty sure the guy in the audience is no longer with us.
Now I know what you’re thinking, why did he not include the beach? Well, I did. Last year and you were with me. Remember? Click Fizgig for a memory jog. Remember, just because it’s minus 2 outside it doesn’t mean we can’t get dream. If you need me I’ll be refreshing my surfer language with slang note cards. Check it out here. We have finally dumbed down English that even the retards have note cards. Don’t forget Fizgig click!