Hey aren’t you……

     I have always been an applause junkie. I have always had the travelin' bone. Even as a little kid running around the neighborhood sans diaper and turning on the neighbors hoses, I have craved attention. High maintenance has been a word to describe me. I have been mistaken for Richard Dreyfus. Not the old guy in his later years, but the guy that played Hooper in Jaws. I am not sure it that is a good thing or a bad thing...

     Actually, the young Dreyfus does look a little like me. “Hey aren’t you Richard Dreyfus?” “No, but he looks like me.” I was that street musician that played in Saugatuck.

     As many of you know I used to be a street performer. That is not to say that I was a great street performer, I didn’t juggle or swallow fire. I did not do magic. It was not as daring as that. It was simply a venue to play my music; you know those simple folksy story songs. I did not do it for the money. Although the money was sometimes pretty good, I did it for the fame, the applause, the notoriety. And as I love to attest to I was mildly famous.

     It had its ups and downs like anything else. I choose to remember it as a great time. Not just to look at it thru the old rose coloreds, but because it mostly was. I had quit smoking dope, and saved up enough to hit the road in the converted Chevy van with my dog Busker. Life was good! I also had the SEAMONKEY my sailboat to live in…Yeah it was the shit!! I was Hey aren’t you….I was THAT guy.

     Nonetheless, I was a street performer. I played in any town I could find that would allow me to play from Saugatuck on down to Key West. Which, BTW, were few and far between, but then again, I did not look very hard. It was more about being on the road than the destination. It was more about the music than the venue, but I even played on Mallory Square before they made it a bastardization of street performing with rules and auditions.

    I played in Pennsylvania at some college campus. (Turned out it was Penn State, which has a beauty of a campus in Wilkes- Barre.) Don’t ask me how Pennsylvania could possibly be on the way to Key West from Saugatuck, but suffice it to say it was long before the invention of Sheila, the girl in my GPS. Even back then the shortest route was always the one I missed a few turns back. I played in rest areas. I played in St Augustine. I played on the beach as well.

     I played at the Toledo Zoo on Thanksgiving week end. Damn it was cold, but I made a few bucks and so it was alright. Somehow on this same trip, I also got kicked out of a head shop. Not that I was still smoking dope, or that there is anything wrong with dope...I needed some papers to roll a cigarette.They kicked me out for saying, "Hey man that is a sweet bong!!" Apparently the term “bong” is not cool, or as they said, illegal...(as opposed to “water pipe” which is fine...just fine???) BTW...The LIONS even beat the vikes in a shootout that year on turkey day.

     There was a great article written featuring the street music scene in Saugatuck, in the Kalamazoo Gazette. It included my picture and a few quotes. It was a nice little publicity thing. Once you become an applause junkie, it never stops. You need the attention. "Hey aren’t you that guy in the paper?" Holland’s little news paper also did a little blurb on me and the street scene as well. “Hey, aren’t you that street musician in Saugatuck?”

     Mostly, I played on Butler Street in Saugatuck, next to the Sand Bar, and On Duval Street in Key West, anywhere I could find a spot. Eventually, the Saugatuck gig became political and they moved us down to the gazebo, where it ceased being street performing and became a stage act. Some how the intimacy faded when I got on stage, it really lost the flavor of the street, even though we were only 50 to 100 feet from the street. And don’t get me started on Mallory and all that, let alone House Boat Row.

     And then I got remarried. Hey aren’t you mildly famous was now a dad. Scary, Huh kids?

     Shortly after I re-married, Roxy, the kids and I were down in Key West. I ran into an old acquaintance, who asked me to sit in for a song or two. I, of course, said "Hell yeah!" As I was playing, the song Prisoner, some one walked by and said “Hey, Aren’t you that guy that plays on the street in Saugatuck?” I smiled and said yeah. Mildly famous. Jus' sayin'....

    Time passes.Again I took to the streets. I played in Rockford and again someone decided to write about me. “Hey aren’t you that mildly famous street music guy?” I guess being pegged as a street musician is better than being pegged in America’s Most Wanted, or in the Arrest News. Mildly famous is not enough, but it was all I could do. I figured really famous was a lot of work. Anytime your passion becomes work, it becomes a job and I really do not like the business side of music. Hey, I also love to fish, but I do not want to join the Bass Tourney circuit.

     Like anything else, the street gig came to a close; it became a struggle to maintain the purity. I did some coffee houses and a couple gigs at One Trick Pony. I played at the singer song writer’s gig at Schuler’s Books and Music. Mildly famous. It is tough to be a “where are they now” street performer.

     Time passes…

     Hey aren’t you mildly famous is now a dad, a soccer coach, and the Regional Commissioner of the Cedar Springs AYSO. Hey aren’t you mildly famous became “Hey aren’t you that soccer guy?”, and a lot of other names I won’t mention to try to keep this blog close to PG. Yeah, being Hey aren’t you... backfired in that little trip down the parenthood path. It was nearly as bad as being on America’s Most Wanted.

     Time passes. Years go by. I have packed away all of “Hey aren’t you mildly famous” in a box in the basement. I have also packed on some pounds. Now I am “the Fatty”, Roxy’s (sometimes jackass) husband; Chris and Libby’s step-dad, Rich’s Friend that did this or that in stories for his ninth grade class, and a lot of other things; some that are nice and some not so nice.

     Years roll on by. I now look more like Dreyfus in Mr. Holland’s Opus than Hooper in Jaws. I have a new gig. I do the best I can. I am sometimes not very good at my new role, but oh well…I do try... “Hey aren’t you mildly famous” is gone to live with Mr. Mo Jo Rison…

     Recently, I was at the Kalamazoo Home Builders Show, doing the working gig I do now, selling and remodeling. I was standing in the booth. A lady walks up to me and asks, “Hey, aren’t you that guy that used to play on the street in Key West?” “You’re a little older,” she says, “and less hair, I mean no pony tail, but that was you, right? I was doing an internship down there and saw you all the time” I am kind of taken aback. “Yep” I reply. Mildly famous.

Just another day in paradise

why is it?

     Why is it that the drug companies feel that they should tell us what a drug’s side effects are in double time? So we do not know what bad things will happen and only focus on the “cure?” Are they just tring to bamboozle us? Common side effects may include dry mouth, headaches, nausea and anal leakage. Anal leakage? Seriously? May cause sharting…jus’ sayin’… Dry mouth is a side effect of a drug I used to frequently enjoy but we called it “cotton mouth”

     Why is it that the drugs that work for headaches are not just added to the mix? “I’m not depressed anymore, but I have a splitting headache and I feel like puking…” I do not know, but it seems to me that I would then be depressed again, but for different reasons.

     It seems like a waste of money and a large part of the gianormonous ill that is the debacle know as health care in the USA. The rampant over medication of our populace is driven by greed. Why is it we feel as a society it is okay to drug ourselves silly, with prescription meds at ridiculous profits to the drug merchants. And yet the side effect is sometimes worse than the problem.

     Does every drug with that anal leakage side effect have Olestra as a component? They could just say that you may shart, so if your ailment is that bad, pick your poison. I would choose to live with the pain rather than wear a diaper, or walk around like I was wearing a dirty one. http://www.cspinet.org/olestraform

     Why is it that the actors and actresses that are in these commercials are so unbelievable? They never look unhealthy. They never look like they need anything except one less trip to the gym. I do not ever want to ask my doctor for a ‘scrip for Viagra, but if I did I sure would not walk around the house or stand in front of the mirror rehearsing. And really what is so wrong about a 4 hour erection? I spent most of my teen years in that state and from what I remember, everything else worked pretty well then, too. How is that a problem?

     Why is it that a game on television takes about 30 minutes more during the playoffs than the regular season game, because of commercials, but the commercials are just as bad? Thank god for the magic DVR. However, the Superbowl always seems to have a few really good ads. Did you notice that there were very few drug company commercials during the SuperBowl? Unless you count beer ads. 

     Why is it that we pay for cable or satellite TV, but we still have to endure commercials? And why do most non beer commercials leave me feeling like I lost intelligence points after I suffered thru the fifteen to thirty second spot? Does anyone ever review what they are saying? Or do they just say “Well, I guess that is the best we can do for the price, let’s just run with it.” Man, I gotta say if the guys putting these commercials together are the best and brightest, we have bigger issues than global climate change and terrorism. The dearth of intelligence from the supposedly educated is a VERY scary thing. Maybe they are just over medicated....jus' sayin'...

     Damn straight those beer commercials are spot on. While they do not get me to switch beers, they sure do entertain and most times I remember the beer that they were pitching. They become iconic phrases of our pop culture. Waaassssuppp? And True, while not the best beer commercials ever, definitely got played in every day vernacular during their heyday. Any guy that says they did not yell Waaassssuppp? To one of his guys during those days is either lying or was in a coma. “Watchin’ the game, havin’ a Bud.” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UDTZCgsZGeA

    Why is it that the best days seem to fly by, but the bad ones seem to feel like they run for 28 hours? I know that if we eliminate Monday’s we would then still have a Monday but it would be a Tuesday, so what is the point? Why is it that if you’re having a bad day that some one will always say to you, “Looks like someone is having a case of the Mondays”

     Why is it that some people ask you ,”How’s it goin’?” and then immediately start to tell you how bad they have it? Just looking for the magic pill to cure the ill. Sometimes it is just venting. Hey, it's a bunch cheaper than buying a bunch of drug company spoilsmakers...That and listening is not YET getting taxed.

     Why it that it takes what is twice an eternity to get to somewhere you want to go, but it takes no time to get home? It would seem to me that the distance is the same to go there as it is to come back. Unless Sheila is f-ing with me.

     Why is it that the rich bad guys (you KNOW that they made THEIR millions  on drugs both legal and illegal) in movies and TV always have a crystal looking decanter of whiskey? It is always in a decanter, so you never know if it is Rich and Rare or Crown Royal? Do you think they drink the good stuff when you’re not around? I would bet that they are offing the rot gut on you….jus sayin…

     Why is it they ask if you want a drink, no matter what time of day it is? Do you think that it is a subliminational message? (I know that is not a word, but Norman, the spell checker has not had to work too hard in this blog.) I would bet that the stuff they are offering you would cause a headache, some nausea and quite possibly some anal leakage. Well, depending on how much you drank and all that.

Just another day in paradise

i hear voices...

     I would not say that I have multiple personalities. Multiple personalities are, most times, a bad thing. I am going to say that I do have a lot of voices in my head. These voices sometimes lead me into trouble, but not like the neighbors’ dog telling me to go kill someone, which would be very bad. Just sayin’ I ain’t no serial killer…

     All great comedians have a bunch of voices in their heads. I am not saying I am a great comedian, but I do have a lot of voices in my head. I will not bore you with all of the voices, just a small sampling of my favorites.

     In the morning there is Mr. Bedhead voice. This voice loves to think that you can shower, shave, get dressed, make coffee, feed the dog, start the car, and let the dog out, load the truck and leave in about 3.8 minutes. This voice tells me it is quite ok to hit the snooze again. And again….and again…and again…

      As I am driving to the gas station to load up on caffeine and nicotine, ( the ines food group) because Mr. Bedhead voice was quite wrong about many things including the coffee, the GD could you take that turn ANY slower voice of Mr. Road Rage tries his hand at controlling my grey matter. Amazingly, he is not very active at this time of the day and as I have aged he has become less and less talkative.

      Upon entering the gas station, the voice of damn I am hungry, Mr. Stomach alarm starts to bather incessantly about how long ago he was fed. “Daaaaaamn! Those gas station hot dogs left over from yesterday look MIGHTY tasty. No wonder I was tagged as “the fatty.” Mr. Sensibility voice takes over and quells the banter. I get the business of obtaining the ines and roll on.

      The day is filled with all the voices. Windshield time gives them all an audience. I do, however, control the mute button. But if I cannot find the remote, that is a problem. It is usually stuck between the seats of the truck and buried by stale french-fries and McDouble wrappers.

      The overly cautious Mr. That Could Be a Problem voice loves to talk. When I do get his input it is okay some of the time, but other times he is just plain ridonlkulous. Shut up, we are not going to drive off the Mackinaw Bridge and plummet to our death. Not to mention that the bridge in question is hours away. Geez and golly, focus on something else.

     Yeah, there are a few voices. Some do not talk much, but others love to ramble on and on and on. The Mr. Paranoid (a hold over form my youth, who may or may not have drug problem) voice still believes that the 911 thing was a conspiracy, and that JFK and Mo Jo are hanging with Elvis. He also thinks that they covered up the millennium computer glitch and we are stuck in The Matrix. He could be right, but I really doubt that. Or is he?

     Interestingly enough, he does believe that we landed on the Moon. He seems to talk a lot more when there is a lull in the mundane reality of the everyday grind. He also loves to lob bombs and cause a scene. He is trouble. But he is really easy to control. (That is why they call it dope). Mr. Sensible is always right there refuting his smack. Or is he?

      Mr. Sports Watching voice is by far the most vocal of all the voices, as anyone that has watched a Lions or Redwings, or any sporting event with me can attest to. He loves to come up with insulting names for opposing team’s players. And in the case of the Lions, many of the Lions players.

     The Mr. Obnoxious in a mixed company crowd voice loves to get his drink on. He loves to drunk dial and drunken text. Even when my phone is in the holster, or pocket he has been know to complete this devious accomplishment. He is not much fun the day after, because he does not like hangovers. He is very chauvinistic. He really loves to play the devil’s advocate. However, after a few he does not seem to know when to shut up. He is usually the reason for people either liking me or absolutely hating me when they first meet me. He also seems to think the f-bomb is the world’s greatest word.

     Not to be confused with Mr. Just Sayin’ who is very similar to Mr. O and Mr. SW, but with more subtle overtones…yeah right…he is always right there with those other two, and is hard to differentiate. They are the trifecta of trouble.

     Then there is Mr. Positive spin. He is my favorite voice. He loves to see the glass half full. And he loves to wear those rose colored glasses. How else could I have remained a Lions fan after all these years? Why else do I keep on writing blogs? Everything is better when you look at the bright side. You have to let the voices talk, but know when to shut them up. It is a work in progress. I will never be perfect. But at least I know they are there. Now, so do you… Just sayin’ I ain’t no serial killer…See there is a bright side. Scary, huh kids….

Just another day in paradise

Hold my beer and watch this.

    It is time. Yup. As they say there is no time like the present. The present is now. Well it was now but now, it is in the past. You can’t go back though. Unless you have a magic DVR.

     At this point it is still the past, but as long as your friends do not text you with updates, watching a game on DVR is like it is in the present. Before I got my magic DVR, I did not understand why my friend Rich wanted to always play Hockeyball longer and watch the game from the DVR. I understand now. However, now is also in the past. And now…Well it just keeps moving along, unlike this blog...

     The sweet voodoo of FF and RWD, and the magic pause button; I never miss a minute of the action running to grab a daddy pop! However, my favorite button of all is the live button. Damn you live button!!! Yeah, gotta be careful when you are watching a DVR’d game that is still recording, because hitting the live button and skipping thru the final two periods, only to find that your team lost is a major bummer. Finding they lost IS much worse than finding that they won, but still is a bummer. Now what are you gonna do for the next two hours? If they lost hold my beer and watch this…

     As you all know, I like my WINGS!! And I like to listen to sports radio during my frequent drives. I like a few guys that are on the air. I hate Jim Rome. If you like pompous, opinionated self-promoting ego-maniacs, then he is your guy. I only listen to “Romie” as he calls himself when I am trapped in the truck, or someone else’s trunk, cannot find some chicken bones to jam into my eardrums, or I am feeling like arguing with the radio. If you pass me and you can read my lips, between noon and three, STFU,JR would be the most likely thing you would read.

     I guess I could always listen to the CD. With a six-disc changer, you would think that I would be able to listen to music and not be forced to listen to JR. However, since I bought my truck 23 payments ago, I have not changed my discs. Lazy? Maybe. But let’s not worry about trivial details.

     Hold my beer and watch this. The battle cry of many a Darwin award winner. The lamentable last line for many a Dumas. (It’s pronounced doomaas) Unfortunately a thing that can make a great idea even greater can also make it turn south in a hurry. I like beer. I like some sports. I do not like some other sports. I do not like some beers. Unfortunately beer and sports do not mix well all the time. It is time for that to change my friends!!!

     The fact that I listen to sports radio means that not only do I have to put up with the Rush Limbaugh of the sports radio world, but I have to listen to stuff about many sports I could do without. But this is not about the ones I like it is about the ones I do not like and how they could be better.

    Start of with golf. My third most hated sport. First rule change, make Eldrick be the caddy for worst player on the course. He would have to wear a ridiculous outfit. Wait a minute, golf attire, while it has changed a bit since the turn of the 20th century, is still lame.

     We would also be allowed to throw water balloons at him and any other golfers for that matter. Or shoot him with a paintball gun. He would have wear a beer bong hat, and drink at every tee. Wild, starving, man-eating animals would also be loosed on the course for a little more pizzazz. May be that went a bit far. Jus’ sayin’

     My second most hated sport is Pro basketball. Pro basketball, not college hoops. Just pro…Since #23 was allowed to take 15 steps with the ball, and King James has been allowed to NEVER foul out, and that stupid thug from the wizards brought guns to the locker room, it has become a lameass shame. What was he thinking?

     To make it better, if you foul out, the other team gets to kick you in the junk. Hard. Or shoot you with paintball guns. Also the fourth quarter should be played like a drinking game, if you miss a shot you take one. That will liven up the fifteen minutes that it takes to finish the last 3 seconds of a typical close game. When you get a technical foul, you take three shots of tequila then you get tasered

     But the sport I like the least is NASCAR. Watching people drive fast in a circle. Whoopee!!! The viewership is down, sponsorship is down. Huh? Go figure. It is a stupid thing to waste an afternoon on, and guess what? The dullards of the world are starting to get a clue. Oh and it is loud and did I mention boring?

     Someone said that they encourage bumping into each other. Really? Actually aggressive driving was what they said, but they did not care much if a couple of drivers traded paint. It adds to the excitement. If you do that on the expressway, you get a ticket. How exciting is that. Yeah, people just love a train wreck. 90% of the traffic jams in Grand Rapids are caused by people gawking. The other 10 percent…who cares…

     Last weekend one of the jackass drivers caused an accident with another. I do not remember the names. I think it was JA #1 and JA#2…He could have killed someone! No shit? Really Rome, Ya think? Seriously?

     NASCAR came down hard on the driver. He is on probation for the next three races. Not suspended, just probated. WOW! Next step is double secret probation. After that, they make him drive with BOZO shoes. While the BOZO shoes would make the sport more interesting, I may have just made that up. Maybe…I think that Gary Buttman er I mean Bettman from the NHL consulted on this, but I can’t quote my sources...

     To make this ridiculous “sport” better. Have them drink one beer for every 10 laps. Another idea is have them drive the last 10 laps in reverse. While drinking a beer... Or make the course in a Wal-Mart parking lot. They way some people drive in parking lots; you would think they are NASCAR drivers in training. Have the course a figure eight. I had a race car track when I was young and it could be a figure eight, and talk about exciting!!! Then again I also thought PONG was pretty cool. And those cassette drive computers, AWESOME!

     There are many more ways to make the sporting world a better place, but since I am not in charge, or king of the sporting world, I will just suffer through, holding my beer, and watching this…

Just another day in paradise

Ice…man!

     HOLY CRAP!! The sun is out. Yup, I said it! The sun is out. Is it spring yet? Close. So close. I tried my Speedo on today. (I know you are fighting the visual). It still fits. That’s the nice thing about a Speedo; it does not care if your gut hangs over it. (Fighting visual again) Seriously, I do not have a Speedo. I gave up on that a long time ago. Long, baggy shorts are the key when you have a few or more extra pounds.
     I have heard it said that alcohol is just empty calories and to combat that fact I have almost always added ice to my drinks. I am not sure what this really does to combat the empty calorie deal, but it lulls me into a false sense of security. And it gets rid of the glacier of ice in the ice maker in our refrigerator. Is this Proof of global warming? Maybe, maybe not.
     It is getting close to spring. The days are getting longer, or more correctly the sun takes longer to cross the earth, so there is more day light. The last few days it has meant more sunlight. I will commence “workin’ on my sunburn ev’ry single day” (from A Letter To My Friends 1998 Bruce Johnson: Prince Pauper Hero Fool) I think my cigarette hand is a shade darker than it was yesterday. This would probably be great if I were a hand model. I guess I could be a hand model for Working Man Magazine maybe, but not for Speedo swimsuits.
     More sunlight means it is time to wash the truck. More sunlight on the truck means it looks dirtier. It cost $7.00 to wash it. Holy Crap! (I was informed that Holy Crap is a bad phrase a couple days ago by a little kid on a jobsite, hence it only makes sense that I would pepper it into my blog.) It seems all these coin operated carwashes require a deposit of $2.00 to start. So, I put five dollars in quarters in the slot and, of course, run out of time. The low coin buzzer goes off with like .2 nanoseconds of time left. HOLY CRAP!! Then I have to deposit $2.00 MORE TO FINISH RINSING THE TRUCK. At least it is warm enough that the wash does not become an ice coating like that chocolate stuff you put on ice-cream.
     So with all the snow and stuff we have had, since it is winter and there is a lack of proper insulation in my attic and ventilation in my soffit, on my roof, I have some hellaious ice dams. HOLY CRAP!! These babies are glacial size. They are global killers. If they fall off the roof, it will cause the polar axis to shift. Jus sayin’ HOLY CRAP!! They are huge! I am sure have a frozen Ice man up there; I can see his stone axe poking thru the melting ice cap. I do not yet have the ladder set up to make the climbing expedition to check out more of this frozen Neanderthal. There is still too much ice. As a hockey fan I KNOW ice is slippery. And I know that a fall from the roof is not as bad as the sudden stop at the end of the fall. 
    The sun is out again today!!! HOLY CRAP!! After all these days of sun, the glacier on my roof is receding. Yet further proof of global warming, or more correctly global climate change. If you do not get the empirical evidence that the GLOBAL TEMERATURE is changing then you are really not paying attention. It has been changing since before the ice age and the glaciers receded to produce the natural wonders of the continents and the glorious Great Lakes. Actually, the global climate is in constant flux, as anyone that regularly watches the History Channel can attest.
     However, we increased the acceleration by overpopulating the planet at an alarming rate and burning a ton of fossil fuels to satisfy the populace of SUV drivers. Not just the SUV drivers are at fault, but everyone on this planet of consumers of fossil fuels is at fault. However those of you, with a AYSO sticker or my child is an honor student…blah, blah, blah…those people, well, they are even more to blame. Seriously, if the bus stop is less than a stone throw from your house, why do you need to drive junior and sissy to the GD bus stop, leave the SUV running and burn more gas, causing more pollution and exacerbating an already tenuous situation?
     HOLY CRAP!! Sober up people! The climate is changing. It has been changing FOREVER! We are helping to accelerate the process. The mean temperature of the planets’ oceans and land masses is changing. It is not just an “Inconvenient Truth.” In a few days you can ask the Iceman that is being thawed out on the glacier on my roof. I just do not know why he is wearing a Speedo.

Just another day in paradise