There oughta be a law...

I am not sure if I can quite put the experience into words, but I will try.  My attempt will have many 'breaks.'  Here goes..

At work, I had an opportunity to help a family with invitations for a quinceanera.  The family consisted of the Great Grandma (about 45 years old), the Grandma/Mom (about 30 years old) and the daughter, who was going to celebrate her 15th birthday in September.  Oh, by the way, there was also a double stroller with two kids it it - both in diapers - one belonged to the Grandma/Mom and one belonged to the Soon-To-Be-15-Year-Old.

The G/M asked me to print these invitations.  So, I did.  It takes about 20 minutes to print 30 invitations. 

While I was standing there watching the printer print, 14 year old has an argument with G/M.   She wants to order WEDDING invitations, too.  G/M says, "No, not yet.  Your man isn't in the NBA, yet."

At that point, G/M and Great Grandma have a discussion about the BabyDaddy.  How good he is at basketball, how much child support he is going to be able to give, etc.

Great Grandma was disgusted - as was I.  The discussion gets heated until the Grandma/Mom said,

"Look, Mama, she is just doing what Iverson's wife did.  Marry him young, then get all his money.  My baby is smart!"

Really?  There oughta be a law...

RuDad

I spent my vacation at Scout camps with both of my sons.  Nick at Boy Scout camp and Christian at Cub Scout camp.  Two different places, one across the street from the other.  Last Sunday, I went with Nick to his camp.  The camp was overbooked, so our troop had to bring our own tents.  Of course, I brought my single person, backpacking tent.  It is a really good tent, pretty roomy - but you can't stand up in it.  As always, I packed my clothes in my duffle (sp?) bag - using this bag also as my pillow.  My plan was to pack my clothes for the three days that I was with Nick, drive back home, pick up Christian and go to his camp. 

On the last day at Nick's camp, I woke up that morning and put on my clothes for the day - t-shirt and jeans.  I proceed to change my clothes.  In this tent, you have to lay down to dress - like I said, you can't stand up.  I put on my pants and they were SO TIGHT.  I was pretty mad at myself.  How could I hike 10 miles every day and GAIN WEIGHT?  Oh, God, they were tight.  I left my tent and started to pack my car before everyone woke up.  Very tight, strangulating my bowels, so tight. 

I make it back to camp and have to go to the bathroom.  On the way to the bathroom, I tried to put my keys in my pocket.  My fingers only went down to my second knuckle.  Why were my pockets so small?  Did I gain weight AND grow taller?  I get to the latrine and was mortified...they were women's pants.  Holy buckets, I grabbed my roommate's pants, not my own.

I went down to the lake to meet Nick, struggling to walk every step.

"Nick, can I tell you a secret?"
"What, Dad?"
"I'm wearing your Mom's pants."
"Really?"

After Nick jumped into the lake, he realized that he needed his long sleeved shirt and long pants for his swimming merit badge.  They were going to learn how to make flotation devices for Life Saving.  He forgot them and I volunteered to go back to camp and get them out of his tent.  I grunted and shuffled to camp to get his stuff.  With camp empty of Boy Scouts, I dropped the pants to see the size.  The horrifying results almost made me sick.

"Nick, I have some really bad news about these pants."
"What, Dad?"
"They aren't your Mom's, they're Sarah's."
"Dad, that's not funny."
"I'm not joking."
"Oh, no."

Driving back, I finally get a cell in Elizabeth and I call home.

"Hello."
"I don't know how to explain this, but I am wearing Sarah's pants."
"John, that's not funny."
"I know it's not funny, but it's true."
"You can't tell Sarah."

I knew I couldn't tell Sarah.  How upsetting would it be if, as a teenage girl, you found out that your 40 plus year old, 240 plus pound Dad was wearing your pants?!?  I focused the entire way home...please be asleep when I get home, Sarah, please be asleep...

I walk in the door and who is there to greet me?   My first born, Sarah.  My wonderful, sweet child.  I would never do anything to hurt her.  She is such a great kid - never gets into trouble, great grades, helps out around the house...

"How was the camping trip, Dad?"
"I'M WEARING YOUR PANTS!"

Rare hAir

Hmmm.  Yup, that's right.  Michael Jordan sporting a Hitler mustache.  I can't for the life of me understand why.  EVERYONE knows that's a Hitler mustache.  There's no mistaking it.  Oh sure, he might have been able to get away with calling it a Chaplin mustache - BEFORE HITLER TRIED TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD! 

Why wouldn't someone at Hanes say, "Uh, Mike, uh, you can't be in our commercial with a Hitler mustache.  It might offend most of the free world."  Maybe no one noticed.  No one noticed his Hitler mustache.  I could be wrong.  Maybe the Hanes guy did try to talk to him.  Maybe he left him a voice mail:

"Uh, Mike, hey, it's Chad from Hanes.  Hey, we were knocking around some ideas about the new commercial we're filming next month.  We're struggling in the southern U.S. markets and north central Europe.  If you have any ideas that might help us gain market share in those areas, we'd be sure to listen.  Your idea adding Charlie Sheen to the previous spots was stellar.  Anyway, let me know if you need anything.  Holla!"

Camping Sports - Episode 3 - Singing Songs to Chad's Stories

Singing Songs to Chad's Stories is a game that started a few years ago.  The basic premise is that there is a group of campers - late at night, watching the fire - bored.  Everyone starts to tell stories, eventually Chad tells a story, generally about Gwen or the Marine Corps Ball.

At this point, it is hard to explain.  But I'll do my best.  Here goes...

Chad: The other night I saw these girls...
Kilzer: Girls, girls, girls!
Chad: Anyway, I was driving my Mazda...
Regan: Whose gonna drive you home?  Tonight...
Chad: OK.  We went around this curve...
Kilzer:  Round and Round, what goes around, comes around, I'll tell you why...
Regan: Weak.  He said 'around', not 'round.'
Chad: Right, it was weak.
Regan: Continue, Chad...

No points, no scores.  Just drunken fun.  Out of all of the Camping Sports, this by far is my favorite.

Camping Sports; Episode One Part 2

The Camping Masters

The Camping Masters is traditionaly played on the last day of camping.  There are at least two players and one Course Manager.  I have assumed the role of Course Manager over the years, mostly because I enjoy making the course as difficult as possible.

Rules are simple - Match Play by hole.  Players must get the ball within a club's length of the hole.  Actually hitting the hole is better than a club length.  Holes can be halved.  Course begins and ends at the firepit.  Chad must be observed at all times, he can't remember his strokes (I bet he did last night, though!).  Winner gets a picture on The Stump.

There are normally many arguments and foul language.  The Kilzer Rule was adopted recently where a player can replace a horribly damaged ball - but only once during the game.

The most famous Camping Masters was actually on the news.  The video is no longer up, but that was a cool day.

Everyone loves the Camping Masters.  The pine beetle infestation in Summit County has put the Masters on hold.  There was a tournament in Deckers last year - it just wasn't the same.  Stupid pine beetles...

Go back to Oregon, bitchez!

(go back to oregon, slutz!)




Unfortunately to that 'lady' from Oregon - she has no idea the wrath that is about to come down upon her.



I'll have you know that it is a Colorado law that if you establish residency in the State of Colorado - for longer than 29 days - you must register your vehicle with the state. Thus, get Colorado plates. I have travelled to many states in my 42 years - but I have never, NEVER littered in a state that I have not lived in for at least a month...Oregon Lady, you are costing our Colorado children P.E. in our schools; you should be ashamed.



Next, Oregon sucks. As of today, I will now have to be a CU fan - since they are going to the PAC-10. That makes me hate you even more.



Next, Ted Bundy killed a chick in Corvallis. Too bad it wasn't you.



Next again, looks like your own people think Oreganders can't drive.



Other people think Oregon sucks.



Here's a bad YouTube video about how Oregon sucks. Sucks so bad there's no audio....



Bottom line is - I don't care what you do on my highway. I don't care what you throw out your window. Just don't mess with my husband.

RIP - "Coach"

Coach John Wooden passed away today.  You might have seen a blurb on the net or a story on ESPN.

Most of my blogs have had some sort of humor attached to them.  Today, I am truly sad.  I never met Coach Wooden, however, I have a copy of his book in my possession.  I even gave my original copy that I bought to Dave Liken.

John Wooden was probably the most genuine and impressive leader I have ever studied.  Lincoln, Jefferson, Brown (Paul), Walsh (Bill) and Reagan - all pale in comparison.

A good friend told me this week that my blogs were written like I talk, 'full of bullshit.'

I will recommend one thing to the three people that read these words.

There is one of many books that John Wooden has written, this one with Steve Jamison;
Wooden: A Lifetime of Observations and Reflections on and Off the Court

If you have anything to do in leadership, management or family direction - I highly recommend this book.  It is short and a quick read.  I challenge you to find any leadership reference that is more impactful.

Thanks very much Coach.  You will be missed, but your legacy will continue.