New Years Fun

Well, another new year is upon us and I thought I would re-share with everyone a new years eve celebration I had 11 year ago almost to the day. It was in college and it was pretty wild, so be warned.

And back in 1996, it was considered cool to wear your tee shirt inside out, so don;t make fun of my 20 year old self. And we didn't have DVDs either.

Enjoy!

The Stubbs pay a visit

Our good friends the Stubbs paid a visit to central Alabama this long weekend. It was wonderful to see them and spend time with them. My only regret was that we were not able to spend MORE time with them. With the Sips having two boys, the Stubbs having a new boy, and us having a new boy, schedualing and visit times were limited. Plus, my in laws were in town staying at our home.

Even so, we were able to have dinner with them Friday night, cook out with them at the Sips Saturday night, and go to church and lunch with them Sunday.

Here are some videos made during the visit. The first video has a few greetings to our friends the Brews over in China...

Dr Katz does radio

Jonathon Katz does a podcast you can download here for free:

http://www.jonathankatz.com/wkatz/



The first bit is about a word dominatrix... it will give a giggle to you English majors...


It should be a monthly thing. It is well worth a listen for us who love dry, dry, dry, dry, dry humor.

eBay reminds me why i won't have 6 kids...

Here is a link to a real eBay item. The description is super entertaining. I think the price went so high just because she got so many hits. LOT OF POKEMON CARDS THAT MY KIDS TRIED TO SNEAK BY ME

Not the best post ever in teh blog, but good for a little laugh...

Me playing a trick on my son...

I was bored, work was slow, and he was awake and in a good mood... you would have done the same...

Crossing over

The wife, myself, and the boy went to Chattanooga this weekend. No problems that would be considered unusual for travels with a 6 week old occurred. In fact, the drive up took only 30 minutes more than usual. The drive back, however, took a good 3 hours longer.

Being that we were so close to Knoxville, I would have considered it a crime to not at least invite the Mullins family to have dinner with my wife and I Saturday night. Being that we had grandparents to babysit our son, we figured we would go on a date.

I won't lie that at first, I was hoping the Mullins' would find a sitter for their boys. I wanted a little adult time. However, plans didn't pan out like I had hoped. Thankfully!

They came to my folks' home and took a look at Tyler. But only after Issac had peed in my parents front yard. The boys were with them and on their best male-Mullins-behavior. Afterwards, we all went to the Chattanooga Choo Choo. Not much to do there but look at real life trains that are no longer in use. Some fun restaurants there, including one that had singing waiters. But entertainment aside, the menu looked like any Ryans Steakhouse menu and wasn't anything special.

So I asked a gift store employee of some local favorites and he pointed me towards the Aquarium where there was a fine assortment of restaurants, including the one we ate at; Easy Seafood (Chefs nick name is Easy). The wait was 15 minutes, so we walked a block to the aquarium where there is a wide assortment of fountains, pools, and waterfalls that kids typically play in. One look at this from the Mullins boys and that's all she wrote. With their mother saying "don't get your shorts wet!" it seemed to only dare each of them to see how close they could get without getting water on their shorts to the point where Caleb was simply running straight through the fountain.

10 or 15 minutes later we go back to Easy and are seated. The food was great. Not a place I will make a bee-line to go to each time I go to Chattanooga, but if I have kids with me, i will. VERY kid friendly. Chalkboards, goldfish snacks for the kids, etc...

Afterwards, we found this huge waterfall of steps that loads of kids and families were cooling themselves off in. My brother takes his daughter here often. The kids loved it, to the point where my wife was telling me to take off my shoes and run down the stair of water to get Caleb before he hurts himself as he ran down these stairs without fear.

The night ended appropriately... as Larissa and I were leaving the parking deck, we passed the Mullins only to see their youngest completely naked by the car and loving every minute of it.

All in all I was very happy to have had their boys with us. Caleb is a hoot. He purposely will not look at a camera when you take his photo, which had me laughing alot. I have crossed over I think... from a childless guy who prefers to be with my friends without their kids around, to a parent who doesn't mind it so much anymore.

My First Massage

My wife and I took a trip last weekend. We had been planning a getaway for practically since Luke was born and finally got our chance. My wonderful wife booked the nicest room in a new hotel for us with a hot tub, king-sized bed, right next to the pool, etc. She also, after asking me my opinion, scheduled a couple’s massage for us at a nice spa just a mile up the road from our hotel.

Before I go any further, I need to make it known that I have never had a professional massage before. I am the sort of person who doesn’t particularly care to be touched by someone I don’t know. So, I felt a little weird about going in for something like this, even though my wife would be receiving the same treatment in the same room. Another item of note is the fact that I have an extremely high tolerance for pain, so I don’t feel things the way most people do and I have to be careful about how I do things since I will hurt myself and not realize it.

So, Friday morning we wake up refreshed, hit the free breakfast bar, and head out for our massages. We arrive, fill out forms explaining any ailments, medications, or recent surgeries (I noted my vasectomy on the sheet) and then waited a couple of minutes while the therapists prepared to work on us. We were almost immediately greeted by our therapists and taken back to a small, dimly-lit room with two massage tables. They looked comfy and soft. My therapist was a slightly overweight woman named Amber. Rachel was to have her muscles smooshed around by a bearded fellow by the name of Jim. They both smiled warmly and reassured us of their desire to make us feel comfortable. Then they told us to take off our clothes and left the room.

Rachel and I disrobed quickly and slid into the smooth warmth of the massage tables, face down. We both commented on how nice it was to use the face cradles and lie flat. It was very nice. Then, the therapists entered the room. New Age music was immediately audible at their entrance. It partly annoyed me at first, then relaxed me once I decided this was not the time to be anal about music.

Amber began. She squirted an odorless oily substance into her hands and began work on my back. The first touch was fine, but my initial reaction was to laugh because it tickled so much. Rachel had signed us up for a deep tissue massage instead of the more, circulation/relaxation driven Swedish massage. But, I wasn’t feeling the deep-tissue feeling I expected. However, being it was my first massage, I waited and let her continue.

Unfortunately, I found myself under a type of tickle torture I had never before experienced. Every touch was like a feather being dragged along my sensitive spine. At first, I tried to hold in the laughter. My body tensed and skook. Amber stopped, “Are you alright, Josh?” “Oh, sure. Fine. Feels great! I just feel like I want to make sounds.” “Oh, um, ok.” For the entire back portion of the massage, I held back my laughter: something I am not used to doing, ever.
Finally, she moved to my legs. My right leg was bared. She oiled her hands. The moment she made the first rub, I cackled, jerked, rolled. I couldn’t control myself. Laughter cascaded from me as urine from an ACPO member. Amber and Jim initially seemed confused, but Rachel’s laughter seemed to give them confidence that I was just like that. Finally, I told Amber that she needed to press harder and that she had been tickling me mercilessly the whole time. She apologized to the inadvertent torture and proceeded to press harder. She pressed as hard as she could for the rest of the massage. And I laughed as hard and long as I have laughed in a long time.

Afterward, we went to the front of the parlor to pay for the relaxation. The receptionist was smiling and asking what exactly we were doing back there. Everyone in the lobby had heard my laughter from the back of the place. I doubt I will get another massage for a long time. I enjoyed it, but I don’t think it was worth the money. I expected the therapeutic effects to last at least a week, but alas they lasted only the rest of that day. Not good enough for what we paid. But, the effects of the laughter on my spirit and the relaxation and buoyancy I felt may have been.

Greatest. Jeans. Ever.

Look how they getcha! That's how they getcha!

This is one of my most favorite scenese from Dr Katz EVER. I just posted it on my YouTube channel. I know Brew will get a kick out of this, but to this day, Sip and I still will shoot out a few phrases from this bit and laugh, while others (ussually our wives) look on confused, or ignore us. Don't eat the bread!

5 minutes of laughter

Mitch Hedberg. A regular on some later season Dr. Katz episodes. I got bored on youtube last night and looked him up. Hilarious. Dude is dead, did drugs pretty much his whole life.... well, weed I am sure at least. I think he got clean the last few years of his life, but still died, I am sure, of over use. In any case, he tells jokes, unlike other stand ups who sort of trick you into thinking they are telling you a 5 to 10 minute long story that is supposed to all flow together. Mitch just acts like he is thinking up funny things off the top of his head. And if ANYONE else said his jokes, they wouldn;t be funny. They need that sort of "high" feel to them to be funny. All clean jokes, here... enjoy, 5 minutes long. Worth it.

Blogging Finally Pays Off

About a year ago, I wrote a silly little post telling the story of my first pair of Dr. Marten shoes. Many of you know this story, as many of you have worn those very shoes.

About a week ago, I got an odd little comment on that story from a guy who listen a Dr. Marten URL in the comments and claimed to be a representative of the company. He was complimentary of my posting and asked me for my shoe size and address, for he wanted to send me a new pair.

I was a little bit worried that it might be some sort of scam, but the e-mail listed was @drmarten.com or some official looking thing, and it seemed a very odd scam, so I dropped him a line. We chatted a few times and he promised to send me some shoes.

Yesterday, I received those shoes from UPS! Lovely brown things that fit perfectly and are as comfortable as I remember.

I guess my years of blogging are finally starting to pay off. For my next story I think I’m going to write about the wonders of a new car, and living in million dollar houses. Who knows what I’ll get in the mail!

Church For Sale

I’ve been meaning to post this for awhile, and Charles’ last post has reminded me to do it.

The congregation Amy and I attend is apparently located on some prime real estate. It is near a large shopping district, is a block away from a major state highway (which is also the route to Indianapolis) and sits on the corner of two busy city roads.

A few weeks ago the church was contacted by CVS. It turns out they are highly interested in this piece of property and want to buy. They are offering a very substantial amount of money. Part of the deal is that CVS agrees to buy the church another piece of land in the same area of town and build a brand new building, to our specifications, on top of it.

It’s really a very sweet deal, and from what I can tell, everyone is all for it. This is interesting to me, since many of our members would fall into the camp that the church shouldn’t have bake sales and yard sale, or in anyway take “outsiders” money for the church. And yet CVS (a company who will surely sell such unsavory items as booze and cigarettes and all kinds of unsavory magazines) flashes some big bills in front of our eyes, and suddenly everything is ok.

Mullins does stand up

Mullins does a monthly stand up routine for kids only, a kid friendly show...
This is footage of his first time doing this. He will admit, it was a little rough, but it's be polished to perfection now... enjoy Mullins fans!

Truth or Myth?

Hey, guys. Tell me if you've heard the following story before, if it's true, and where you heard it.

I'll don't recall all the details, but it goes something like this: a railroad bridge operator (don't know if that's the correct term for it, but you get the idea) has to lower the bridge for an oncoming train. The guy's son is playing on the gears and gets stuck. The guy doesn't have time to save his son, so he has to lower the bridge so the train can go by, thus killing his son in the process.

True or false? Any takers?

Coolest Bowling Shot Ever

For All You Fishermen

I cannot vouch for the following story. I found it as a forward in the departmental e-mail. I have not touched the words that come from people I do not know. I know nothing save that these pictures are unbelievable.
--------------------------------------------
A guy who lives at Lake Conroe (50 miles north of Houston) saw a ball bouncing around kind of strange in the lake and went to investigate. It turned out to be a flathead catfish that had obviously tried to swallow a basketball that became stuck in its mouth!!The fish was totally exhausted from trying to dive, but unable to because the ball would always bring him back up to the surface.
The guy tried numerous times to get the ball out, but was unsuccessful. He finally had his wife cut the ball in order to deflate it and release the hungry catfish.

"What Is That Smell"

Starting yesterday afternoon, my office took on a very strange, and quite horrendous odor. It smelled like death, or rotten eggs. I sit underneath a air vent, and I have a pretty piss poor sense of smell, so it didn’t bother me too much. Only when I moved out from under the vent, or first came into the office.

We searched the office for something peculiar. The trash was investigated for rotting foods, the corners and underneaths checked for dead things. Nothing was found.

Today we complained, conjectured and made faces about it. But there was nothing to find as for a cause.

About a week ago, the group who work upstairs from me had complained about bats in the attic. There was some conjecture about whether it was bats, birds, or mice, but measure were taken to get rid of them. Somewhere on the roof there was a slight opening which, it was thought, would be the place to which the bats might enter. A wire cage was placed around the opening and the problem was theoretically solved.

The smell, so went our thinking, might be from a trapped bat/bird/rat from the cage, that has since died. We got a ladder, pulled open the drop ceiling and went to investigate.

Nothing still.

No sign of dead vermin, less stink in the opening. We sniffed around the vent, thinking something might have died in the furnace.

Nothing.

By afternoon I was crazy mad over it. It stunk. It is my office. That’s not right.

We searched in every cranny, and nook. There is a box on one of my cabinets filled with junk from my predecessor. I looked casually in it, but found nothing. Then we noticed some mouse droppings on some papers near the box. I checked again and found droppings on a glove inside the box.

Then I found the mouse, dead, inside this box. Rotting. My office. Dead things, for who knows how long.

I worked amongst the dead.

Gross.

Trippin' (Written by BigSip, posted by Jamison)

“Adventure” was the word upon our lips as we surveyed the rock-laden glory of the Tallapoosa last Friday morning. Our trucks were loaded with coolers containing no sparse amounts of beverages, foods, and snacks, boats (mine, at least 40 years old and Jamison’s, only a year at most), and camping gear for a one-night stay. We were ready to conquer the river; or was it ready to have its victory over us?

As Mullins and Jamison unloaded Jamison’s truck, Charles and I walked upstream and took in the breath-taking rapids. I was glad to have seen them and even more glad we were releasing our small barks below them into the milder currents of the yet-unexplored river. After we unloaded my boat and gear, we left Charles and Mullins to guard the provisions while we and Jamison’s friend Wayne headed to our parking spot across from the Tallassee Police Dept. Wayne was a good-natured country boy of around 45 who deserves props for taking his time to help us out (thanks, Wayne, where ever you are). Jamison and I arrived back at the river to find that Mullins and Chuck had not yet arrived back at the boats. We soon found them, but not without some walking that allowed us to take in more of the scenes.

We left at about 7:30 AM with the idea that the river current would be as strong the whole time as it was from the start. How wrong we were. The initial push from the rapids would be one of the strongest currents we would experience on our two-day, 35 mile journey. We soon began to row and row and row. We lashed our boats side by side (a configuration affectionately referred to as a “red-neck pontoon boat) and began to power our heavy boats down the river, our muscles already burning. It was the kind of hard work that made you feel alive and really appreciate your desk job, but it was worth every stroke for the sights and adventures we were soon to have.

The first sites we noticed were the gorgeous rock formations and wilderness. High, striated, colorful rock faces enveloped us as we paddled along. In fact, we all had to concentrate hard on keeping a steady pace as we had so much to divert our attention.

Next, we noticed the fish jumping: striped bass, large mouth, trout, and others we had no time or opportunity to identify. There were entire herds of deer, too. Beautiful, strong animals they were, crossing the river in the shallows. Then the birds flew by and we knew we had reached the center of it all. Kingfishers and woodpeckers abounded. We saw at least 2 blue herons. But the most amazing site of all was two bald eagles who were apparently nesting in the vicinity. At first, we couldn’t believe our eyes. Two bald eagles in Alabama? None of us had any idea that such a thing was possible. Although we really didn’t get close enough to get good footage or pictures of the majestic birds, Jamison, to his credit, took film and pics, nevertheless. It will etched in our collective memory from now on, I can assure you.

The most physically exciting parts of the adventure were the strong currents and downhill runs. The first one we saw would seem quite bland to anyone reading this, but let me explain, if I can, how amazing it was. At about 100 yards, we noticed that the river seemed to end abruptly up ahead. We prepared ourselves for some unknown falls or drop that was, as yet, unmapped. As we got closer, we saw from about another 100 yards that there was a 50-60 foot rock face running perpendicular to us, but we were almost eye level with the top of it. And then, we saw it. A downhill run loomed before us, accompanied by a rush of water we hadn’t heard since the rapids at the start of the trip. We steeled ourselves and made to row into the strong current. We strained against the flow and we topped nearly 5 mph, running with the river, out of control, and into a sharp bend at the bottom which spun us into a wide arc, from which we quickly recovered. The roar of beastly men that went up to the heavens after that run cleared wildlife for a mile at least. The river’s first test was done and we had triumphed!

We ran with the river 20 miles that first day. We heaved and sighed. We gasped at the landscapes and wildlife. We gave and took orders from each other, “Mullins, rudder! Chuck, row! Sip, wake up! Jamison, where the hell are we?” We laughed and sang snippets of songs and laughed again. We named movies from the most obscure movie lines. We shared everything in our small, floating commune. Food and drink were in abundance as were stories and remembrances.

Fortunately, (and I say this at the risk of sounding hypocritical) we had solid cellular communication for the duration of the trip. As a result, we were able to correct an oversight and have Larissa charge a battery for Jamison’s trolling motor which we planned to pick up at the toll bridge the following day.

Eventually, we made for an inviting sand bar and landed our small craft. A grassy trail led us to a small, circular glen, perfect for making camp. It was obvious that the area hadn’t been used in years, but we found plenty of firewood and kindling, including some pre-chopped wood that lasted us through the night. Jamison had pre-cooked some chili which he warmed on the fire after we made camp. It was delicious. Unfortunately, the day was not without one casualty. The mixture of sun, exertion, chili, pineapple wedges and few puffs of the pipe later found Charles in a deluge of upper gastrointestinal infortitude which caused our first and only sighting of a geyser for the entire trip. The rest of us pitched-in and took care of our brother as he heaved and moaned. After 10 such bursts as never witnessed by man, he was calm in the guts and ready for bed.

We rested peacefully under the stars that night, peering through the tangled circle of trees as sleep filled our bodies. The enjoyment and sweet rest were only punctuated by the hard work and visions of the day.

We awoke shortly after daybreak the following morning and fried bacon and hash browns that Jamison deftly prepared. We also had some nice bread (provided by Mullins) and fried summer sausage (my provision). We broke camp soon thereafter and took the boats out much lighter since we had eaten, drunk, and burned many of our provisions. We also took our boats separately. Chuck and I took my boat while Mullins rode with Jamison.

All was smooth sailing except for the occasional exhortation to “Keep rowing!” from one of us toward another. There were a few obstacles which we managed to get into including some logs Chuck and I couldn’t avoid, but managed to bounce off after a few tense seconds. And Matt and Jamison stuck themselves pretty well on the bottom of the river in one spot (the river flowed only inches deep in some areas, making for some creative paddling for us all).

We had brought one fishing rod and some light tackle which Chuck used to hang one plastic worm from the end of the boat. At one point, the pole bent, but just as Charles attempted to set the hook, a beautiful, striped bass no more than 2 pounds leapt from the water and removed the lure from its jaw. We tried a couple more times to fish, but stopped as we needed to make good time to the bridge.

Good time we made! Jamison and I crawled from the boats beneath the toll bridge and took with us the 2 heaviest packs and one empty cooler. This was no small feat considering the bank was slick and nearly straight up. But, we managed the climb and walked to the nearest gas station where Larissa (who would twice save the day) picked us up. We rode to their house, loaded the motor and battery while she made us some sandwiches (best ever!) and went back as quickly as possible. On the return journey, we placed the battery in the cooler to share the load and took turns carrying the motor. Finally, we slid down, untied, and once more set out for parts unknown.

We were disappointed, at first. The motor would only last so long, so we found ourselves still rowing most of the trip and using the motor for some much-needed rest now and then, which cheered us up and let us know we could continue, at least part of the way.

You see, our original plan was to go 43 miles all the way from Tallassee to Ft. Toulouse, but our hopes of making it to that ramp before the park was closed, trapping Chuck’s SUV and our boats, were dashed. We rowed hard and used the motor, still clinging to the hope of finishing our original undertaking, all-the-while our hopes slipping and finally broken by a beach full of drunk rednecks who insisted we’d never make it before dark.

But, again, resourcefulness and a wonderful, selfless mate prevailed. Jamison knew of a little-used boat ramp at a small camper-trailer park just past the Hwy 231 bridge. It was our best hope and our most difficult task yet. When we arrived at the bridge, we noticed the step rock and muddy faces of the banks first of all. But, those were not the worst of our obstacles. The unfriendly and territorial trailer park residents, Jamison told us, were not welcoming to people not of their lot using their ramp. What would we do?

And then, we hatched the plan that would make our trip even grander than we could have imagined!

Jamison called Larissa. She would meet us soon at a gas station just down from the bridge and transport Chuck, Jamison, and me to Ft Toulouse to get Chuck’s SUV. Meanwhile, Matt would wait on the opposite bank with the boats and pull up to the dock at our signal.

We pulled up to the rocky face beneath the bridge and began our ascent. The cliff loomed before us, but we had no fear. Hand and foot, we scaled the face and were to the gas station 5 minutes before Larissa’s arrival. Soon, we were in Chuck’s ride and motoring to the abandoned gas station across from the police station.

On the return trip, as we neared the trailer park, we saw Mullins, already nearing the ramp. I honked, he waved and he began his convergence on the dock.

Moments later, Jamison and I were in my truck, driving literally 2 mph (the posted speed limit) and acting like we belonged there. I backed down the ramp slowly. The ramp was steep and precariously paved, so great care was needed. At the bottom, Mullins had already begun the Operations Consolidate and Unload. We were ready!

The gear, coolers, and boats flew onto the truck and were tied minutes later. Mullins walked up beside the boat as we slowly (painfully slow) climbed the ramp in the truck. But, our hearts sank slightly as we neared the top. A man who looked like a cross between Panama Jack and Yosimite Sam waited at the top of the ramp, watching us climb.

Fortunately, we had the right man for the job to sweet talk these wary trailer-dwellers. During his wait on the opposite side of the river, Mullins had witnessed this same fellow attempting to start his small boat for about 45 minutes. Finally exasperated and possibly hen-pecked by his awaiting, halter-top bedecked wife, the man admitted defeat, shirtless, hatless, and shaking his mop over the trailer tongue.

“Did you ever get that thing started?” Mullins chortled to the man’s defeated surprise. We were soon home free and laughing again over some cheap Mexican food.

Did we conquer the river in those two days? Did it win over us? I think everyone was victorious. But, don’t ask the river.

As Seen On TV

You know those As Seen On TV store you find alongside the interstate across America. Well, I think I'm going to start an "As Heard On The Radio" store. And if that does well, I'll branch out into "As Spammed On the Internet" stores.

The World's Tallest Bridge

That right there, is the highest bridge to ever be built. It is currently still under construction in the mountain range of Massif in France. It is approximately 984 feet high, which is taller then the Eiffel Tower.