Home Improvements

I hope to slowly but surely add to the links on the left. But for now, take to time to check out the blogs Joolie Doolie and Ugly Juice. I'll add more later and update you as I do.

Nothing Brings the Neighborhood Like Wild Turkey

Well, no not that kind of turkey.

A few Saturdays ago I was working in the backyard when a swooping sound caught my attention. A shadow darkened the backyard and I looked up with my best Frodo-In-Danger in face, convinced that a ringwraith was coming to get me. I held out one of Poncho's nasty tennis balls as an offering, and prayed for Gandalf to save me. But then I realized it wasn't a ringwraith coming to get me at all.

It turns out it was a wild turkey. In our backyard. It ended up landing on the neighbor's roof. So I yelled into the house to get Emily outside. When she came out and I pointed out the turkey to her I realized we had an audience. There were a few grown-ups and a lot of kids in our alley following the path of the bird. Emily said, "Turkeys can't fly!" And some Marlin Perkins charachter in the alley let us know that wild turkeys can fly, Thanksgiving-bred turkeys cannot.

The turkey eventually left its perch and flew north. Apparently it kept flying north for about another five miles, because less than a week later, the following story appeared in the Minneapolis Star-Tribune:

Wild turkey checks out downtown living
April 8, 2005

"It's going to be 'Something Fowl at the Hennepin County Government Center,' right?"
That was the headline suggested by county spokeswoman LuAnn Schmaus after she and other government employees in downtown Minneapolis fielded calls Thursday morning about a wild turkey wandering the streets.

Unlike its four cousins in Golden Valley, which have been pecking car tires and being general nuisances, this bird was pretty mellow.

"It was resting on our north plaza, enjoying the sunlight and freaking people out," Schmaus reported dryly. "I didn't even go out and look. I see wild turkeys at my grandma's all the time, but I guess some people aren't used to seeing livestock."

Animal Control officers didn't respond, she said, "because they don't deal with wild turkeys."

Schmaus said that the turkey "not only visited our plaza, but it also went to the Pillsbury Plaza and walked around."

A passing police car's siren sent the bird running; it was last seen heading toward the Warehouse District along the light rail tracks.

"Maybe toward Marshall Field's," Schmaus added.

Click here for the link.

This Is Replacements Territory

The Twins ad campaigns have always been head and shoulders any other sports teams'. This year's This Is Twins Territory is no exception. My favorite ad shows a lady scrubbing the bathroom floor with what turns out to be a New York Yankees jersey. Here is a nice summary of the ad campaign from The Rake.


It ranges from aggressive, hectoring exhortations and calls to arms, to print ads that feature juxtapositions of Twins players with bits of regional iconography (Joe Mauer, crouching in his catcher’s gear, roasts a hot dog over a campfire, for instance, or Torii Hunter leaps from a dock to snare a fly ball). In one television spot a woman scrubs a bathroom floor with a Yankees jersey, and the legendary voice of Bill Woodson intones, “This is your state. This is your team. And this is Twins Territory.”

Click here for the whole story.

One of the greatest offshoots of this ad campaign can be found when listening to the Twins games on the radio, on WCCO. Whenever the game breaks to a commercial, you hear the familiar tag line "This is Twins territory." But this is followed with a clip from a Minnesota musician's song. It's pretty cool to be listening to a Twins game and suddenly hear Sugar, Prince, or The Replacements right before a commercial break.

You Can't Make It Up

Those of you who live in Minnesota are familiar with Michele Bachmann, the Republican state Senator from Stillwater. Those of you from outside of Minnesota can imagine. She's our state's right-wing nut who is pushing a ban on gay marraige. Even though her bill died in the senate before it could make it to a vote, she thought she'd check out last week's GLBT Rally at the state capitol.

But she decided to lurk behind a shrub and spy on the event. She got caught on film by some attendees.

Click here and scroll about half way down to see the pictures. Very dignified.

Take Me Out to the Train Yard

I've been listening to the Twins/Mariners games on the radio both right now and last night.

It is so very distracting to hear all the train whistles. There are train tracks that run right by the stadium. I can't imagine sitting in the right field bleachers and having to hear a freaking train horn every half hour. It's loud enough on the radio, it must make eardrums bleed in person.

It doesn't seem to be bothering the Twins. They just turned a double-play for the third time this game to bail out Carlos Silva. Silva has had only two fly outs. When he's hot, he is the master of the ground out.

WIN TWINS!!!

TPS Reports

When I first started working at my present job, five years ago, I was the only employee. It was just my boss and me. Now we have an office manager, another full-time therapist, and two part-timers. We're a freaking speech therapy juggernaut (note to self: look up orgin of that word).

But that's not my point. My point is that now that we are a company of more than two people, many little hiccups are coming up becuase there are many ways to write reports, take therapy notes, keep track of insurance authorizations, stay up to date with this papertrail called NOMS, and well, you get the idea. So we need a universal way of doing things.

In the past, my boss and I muddled our way through our office work efficiently, and had unwritten understandings of how the work flows around the clinic. But it's not so easy anymore.

So, I have spent most of my downtime at work writing instructions (technical writing, if you will), devising a universal note taking system, writing procedures on how to evaluate and disharge people, and well it doesn't matter.

It is all so mind.... numbingly..... dull.

It makes me grateful that I work where I do. I cannot imagine 40 hours a week of a job defined memos, procedure manuals, and flowcharts. Becuase we all know how badly I'd fail. One thousand memos from 1000 bosses couldn't save me from screwing up my TPS reports. I'm too incompetent to work in an office. Thanks goodness there are jobs like mine that pay you to play with kids.

Be Careful What You Wish For

Last December at Mick Golden's birthday brunch I pitched the idea to a group of guys I was sitting with that we start Man Scouts. Why not have Boy Scouts for men? This was a joke of course. We nominated one guy's wife to be the Den Mother to make us Kool-Aid and cookie treats for all our Man Scouts meetings. She'd also need a minivan, of course, to drive us to all our neato field trips to the Ford F-150 Assembly Plant and minor league baseball games!!! And then we had to wonder how long it would take for the Ford assembly plant guys to kick our panise asses and the Man Scouts uniforms that went with them.

As an aside, someone asked why don't they have Girl Scouts for women? Mick Golden said, "They already do. It's called a book club." Funny stuff.

Anyway, I guess nothing and everything is new under the sun. My friend (we'll call him Zandypants) just sent me an e-mail informing there are all ready two Manscouts chapters in the country. But neither is like the Man Scouts I envisioned.

The first, there's Manscouts.org which appears to be more manly than anything I envisioned, and a little scary in a Fredonia sort of way.

And then there's http://www.manscouts.com which is scary in a Soddom and Gamorrah sort of way.

As Zandypants said in his e-mail, "Take your pick, but choose wisely, my young friends."

Win Twins?

This post is 48 hours past due and may seem a little like I'm jumping off the bandwagon. The Twins lost yesterday and are presently down 4-0 to the Seattle Mariners. But those of you who have been talking baseball with me know that I am very wary of the Twins chances this year.

Clearly I do not hold the local media's optomism or even the national media's.

Click here to see all the national ESPN types who like the Twins to win it all.

But I say there are too many question marks. You didn't see me shedding any tears when Christian Guzman left town, but he may become easier to miss if Jason Bartlett doesn't pan out. And Corey Koskie will be missed no matter how consistent Cuddeyer can get at third. And I think Luis Rivas' ninth life as a major league batter is about expire.

I also think Joe Mauer's injury is a lot more severe than anyone in the Twins organization is letting on. There are four, that's right FOUR, freaking catchers on the Twins roster. Why would you have that many cathchers, unless you fear a certain player is one bad turn while runnig the bases away from a season/career ending injury?

If the greenies in the infield play half as well on defense as last year's League of Nations, and if Joe Mauer and Joe Mays stay healthy all year, then I see the Twins winning the division. Making it to the World Series is a stretch.

But I see either an injury or an inexperienced infield causing the Twins to fall to second in the division and out of the playoffs.

Keep in mind, however, that I was convinvced once the Yankees got A-Rod they would be untouchable last year. So, what the hell do I know?

WIN TWINS!!!!

NO WAY!!!!!! I had to come back and add these last two sentences. The Twins just put together a seven run rally in the top of the fifth.

WIN TWINS!!!!

Our Attorney General Is Such An Ashcroft!

As we all know, most movies have quite a bit of dubbing to do when they are modified for TV release. So all the "fucks," "shits," and "assholes" shouted by the actors becomes "fudges," "shoots," and "faceoids."

However, the recently dubbed, rated G, release of Sideways used an unusual substitute for "asshole." "Ashcroft!" was dubbed in its place.

Maybe the dubbed release should be considered NC-17, not G.

Click here to read the full story. It's a quick, worthwhile read.

Saying Cheese

About once a day Emily will say something that I will turn over and over in my head.

Approximately a month ago we were lying in bed reading on a weeknight. Emily asked if I was going to invite our dog Poncho to sleep in the bed, as I am wont to do. I said I would when I finished the chapter in the book I was reading. It was quiet for like ten seconds and then she said, "You know Poncho's life is pretty short. It's important we make him as happy as we can."

I thought it was a nice thought. Both for Poncho and for us.

The Concert Starts... Tomorrow

Adding to the inconsistency that makes up Easter, tomorrow night I am going to see Steve Earle at First Avenue. I'm going with Emily's uncle and a few of his friends. Since I've lived here, I haven't missed a Steve Earle in Minneapolis show yet (or at least to my knowledge). But I almost missed this one. It was Emily's uncle who told me about the show and his friend who bought me a ticket. Phew. This is why it pays to have friends who are cooler than you are!

He's touring after putting out The Revolution Starts... Now, required cathartic listening for anyone still smarting from Bush's re-election. If you can listen to that album while reading a Jim Hightower book, it is possible to feel optomistic about the power of the people, and even an individual, to change the direction of this country.

A preview of tomorrow night's show from the Minneapolis Star-Tribune.

When he won a Grammy last month for best contemporary folk album for his relentlessly political "The Revolution Starts ... Now," Earle was resolute about espousing his leftist beliefs and making his gigs be "Commiseration Grand Central" for people disillusioned by the presidential election. "I know why I'm out there singing every night more than I have at any other time in my life," he said. "If I'm not [angering] the New York Post and Fox News, I'm not doing my job." Moorer's voice is prettier but no less fearless as she sings about life's misfortunes. She'll also sing backup for Earle, who is her new beau.

Easter

A rabbit brings you a basket full of eggs full of candy instead of a baby chick. But you can also find baby marshmallow chicks in your basket, just not in the eggs. You have ham for brunch.

And somehow all this is associated with the son of God being beaten and nailed to a cross.

Easter has always struck me as a very weird holiday, and it has never resonated with me. I think it's because as a kid, I could never find any consistency in it. Or any purpose. We were told it was a very solemn day, and at the same time we ate shitloads of candy and hunted around the house for eggs. It was all too disconnected for me.



Image from www.runnerduck.com


As a kid, we used to make an Easter egg tree, modeled after a Christmas tree. The big difference being that the "tree" for the Easter egg tree was a big branch my sisters and I hunted for in the back yard or elsewhere in the neighborhood. Then we put the branch in a coffee can full of dirt. The ornaments were hollowed-out, PAAS decorated Easter eggs.

So I am glad Emily has her Reuben Sandwich Day. That is a holiday I can comprehend, even if no one else really can.

Snoop Clocky Clock

This post probably is more appropriate for Robot Alert. MIT's media lab has invented "Clocky," an alarm clock that rolls off your nightstand and hides when you hit snooze. When the alarm goes off again, you have to go find it. Apparently it can find a different hiding spot each day.

Thankfully, the promise of the newspaper on our stoop and an occasional cup of coffee is all I need to get out of bed. I'd get one for Emily, but she'd take the glock to Clocky the first time it hid from her.

Click here to see more on Clocky.

It doesn't seem that far removed from the robot armadillo my dad for my class in sixth grade, but no one reading this will get that reference except for the guy over at Robot Alert, or my dad.

My Twenty Two Cents

None of these thougts will be particularly original, but I have to get a few things about the whole Terri Schiavo mess off my chest. First of all, may the Christian conservatives and politicians who, uh, politicized this affair rot in hell. No one has the authority to pass judgment on Terri Schiavo's parents or husband. But now this very personal story that belongs to a family is surrounded by people with life size crucifixes and the federal judges in robes. Shame on everyone involved, even me for addressing the topic.

But, in my defense, my wrath is mostly geared for George Bush. All hail King Hypocrite.

How do I think thee a hypocrite? Let me count the ways.

Let's start with his quote from yesterday in Tuscon, when he applauded congress' bizarre, possibly unconstitutional law that this case be turned over to the federal courts.

This is a complex case with serious issues, but in extraordinary circumstances like this, it is wisest to always err on the side of life.

Really? So this applies to one person in Florida but not the 17,000+ civilians killed in Iraq from Bush's rush to war two years ago (source: www.iraqbodycount.com). Or the 1500+ US troops who have died over there.

It also doesn't apply to the 152 inmates killed on his watch, if not in his haste, while he was governor of Texas. He vetoed a law, as governor, that would have provided funding for basic indigent defense. Bush also opposed legislation banning the execution of people with IQ's less than 65. And have you read this story?. If not, read it. And try and tell me how he has ever "err(ed) on the side of caution" with any of the 152 people that were executed with his approval.

And then there is the whole ridiculous bit about state's rights and small, non-intervening governments that Republicans like Bush claim to endorse.

And, lastly, there is this gem, the 1999 Advance Directive's Act that Bush signed into law as governor of Texas. What was that footwear reference the GOP loved to slap on Kerry? Sandal? Teva? I forget.

How Terri Schiavo's life ends is none of my business. Professional sports and reality TV is a much healthier way to get emotional about the lives of complete strangers. But I do take exception to how her family is being exploited and judged by people of all politcal persuasions. And I also think George Bush is too much of a hypocrite to be thought of as a straight-talking Texan.

So I'd rather close with a few lines from a true-to-life straight talking Texan, Ray Wylie Hubbard, from his song "Conversation with the Devil."

He said, "Come on over here son, let me show you around
Over there's where we put the preachers, I never liked those clowns
They're always blaming me for everything wrong under the sun
It aint harder to what's right, it's just maybe not as much fun
Then the walk around thinking they're better than me and you
Then they get caught in a motel room doing what they said not to do.

Now the murderers and the rapists they go in this firey lake
As well as most of the politician and the cops on the take
And all the mothers that wait to get to KMart to spank their kids
Instead of showing what to do what's right, they just hit 'em for what they did
And all the daddy's who run off and abandon their daughters and sons
Oh anybody that hurts a child is gonna burn until it's done."

"Everybody is down here," I said, "Who's up in Heaven with God and the Son?"
"Oh some saints and mystics and students of metaphysics 101
People who care and share and love and try to do what's right
Beautiful old souls who read a little stories to their babies every night
What you won't find up in Heaven are Christian Coalition Right Wing Conservatives,
Country program directors, and Nashville record executives."

March Madness

I know it's old news, but did anyone miss the shooting-from-the-ass shot from the Minnesota state finals for boys' basketball?

I have been thinking about it a lot and I would argue that it is the greatest shot EVER made in basketball. Think of the context of the whole play. It may not be the most amazing shot, but it's the greatest because even Hollywood wouldn't expect us to believe a shot like that could happen. If some director choreographed that play for the end of a Disney movie we'd all be rolling our eyes saying, "Yeah right, like taht would ever happen in real life."

The frustrating thing is my sister was visiting from Texas and we were watching the NCAA Tourney (Go Red Raiders!). I didn't think she'd want to be bored by watching Minnesota high school sports. On a few occasions I was tempted to switch over to the Hopkins/Eastview game but changed my mind. Damn! If I just done it once, we would have seen how close the game was and we would have seen the shot.

Maybe next time.

Oh yeah, a play like that in a championship game happens only once in a lifetime.

"I Want That Wolf Out of Here!"

This is perhaps the greatest line ever shouted by a referee.

The Spurs mascot, The Coyote, was ejected from last Wednesday's Spurs/Timberwolves game for his shadow boxing routine when Bruce Bowen and Wally Sczerbiak started jawing after a hard foul by Sczerbiak. The ref felt the mascot was too close to the action and tossed the Coyote from the game.

The fact that a ref can't tell a wolf from a coyote doesn't do much to break down the stereotype that refs are blind.

Click here for the story. It's pretty funny.

Grumpy Old Men

I just posted about a refelctive running vest I wear in the dark. Well, I've got more to say about that damn thing. Who knew?

My teammate from college (we'll call him The Klassmaster), and I are training for a marathon in mid-May. He lives in another city so we check in every week or so to make sure we're both training. Fortunately, he has been slacking as much as I have.

Anyway The Klassmaster was in town about a month ago and we went for a run. We hadn't run together since college, I think. And as you can imagine, back then, we were typical obnoxious 20 year-old fuckos who thought pretty highly of ourselves. So we would mock things like running clubs (that shit was for blue-haired, casual joggers), people who dressed warmly in cold weather (sissies), and pretty much anything else that didn't involve running shirtless and has hard as you can, no matter the distance or the weather.

Times have changed.

The weather mid 20s when The Klassmaster visited, and fearing he may catch a cold, Sir-Klass-A-Lot had on four layers of clothing, a scarf, and some gator thingy that covered every inch of his face, leaving slits for his eyes. Oh, and a knit hat.

I had a field day mocking him for being an overall pansie. Two six year-old girls walked in front of my house and I pointed out that they had less gear on than he did.

Of course, I forgot the whole thing about stones and glass houses, because just as we were leaving I put on my reflective vest, and Klassy just started cracking up. "What the fuck is that thing? You going to direct some traffic during our run?"

So we both had to admit that we had become what we used to mock. A couple of slower-than-Christmas joggers who belong to running clubs and now respect the value of safety when facing weather and traffic.

Pretty pathetic.

There is some irony attached to my refelctive vest, by the way. The first night I wore it I was running by the University of Minnesota when a Ford Escort slowed down and three snowballs whizzed right by me and one grazed my leg. As the Escort sped past me, I could see it had four guys in it, most with baseball hats on backwards. If that wasn't your prototypical car full of meatheaded college freshmen, I don't what is. Either way, I had to laugh. I'm sure they were thinking, "Nail the old dude with the gay vest on!!" or whatever it is those crazy college kids are saying these days.

The irony being of course that those guys would never had seen me, and I wouldn't have been put in danger, if it wasn't for that freaking safety vest.

Yellow Lights Rock!!!

A few weeks ago I was getting ready to go for a run after work. In homage to Johnny Cash, 90% of my running attire is black. Well, it probably has more to do with the silver and black of the San Antonio Spurs, but I digress.

I have black windpants, black lycra, a black hat, black running jackets, and I go running with my black dog who has a black leash and a black collar. I'm shitting you negative. This is no exaggeration and did not happened conciously. I gravitate towards the color black.

It was getting so dark so very early a few weeks back that nobody could see me or my dog when I went running. It became so bad that I'd scare people. Or other people walking their dogs, might see me, but would not realize I also had a dog.

So I gave in and bought a refelctive vest to put over my clothes. As I was putting it on and Poncho had on his reflective collar that I had just bought for him, Emily walked in and said, "You're wearing your vest! Yay! I love safety!!"

Can't say I've never thought of the concept of safety in those terms before. Emily will say little things like that from time to time and they really stay with me.

"I'm Not From Here

I just live here."

First person not named Justin to identify the author of that quote gets a prize.

For everyone else who lives here, visit Minnesota Republican Watch to follow the actions of the Minnesota GOP machine. The link was sent to me by another Minnesotan who's not from here, but lives here. We are a rare species.

Minnesota Republican Watch is preaching to the choir, but it keeps me informed of all the scary shit the Minnesota GOP is up to. Between the king making of Mark Kennedy and Michele Bachmann's evangelical nuttiness, Minnesota's politics is looking more and more like Texas' everyday.

As shitfy characters like Norm Coleman, Bachmann, Pat Awada, Ron Ebensteiner, and Kennedy grow more and more powerful, Paul Wellstone's death becomes harder and harder to accept. And I thought time was supposed to heal all wounds.

Anyway, click here for the link.

Cross Marketing

I think hardware stores should cross market with marriage counselors.

WEEKEND SPECIAL!!
SATURDAY AND SUNDAY ONLY AT HOME DEPOT

Get 25% Off Your First Counseling Session at 'Repair-the-Knot' with a purchase of any home improvement products having to do with making holes, fixing walls, using drills, working on floors, plumbing, or electrcity!!

I am about to try for the first time to skim coat the office walls. I have little to no idea what to do beyond what the competent guy at the hardware store told me to do. Emily is safely out of the house. I know she wants first crack at this job, but very diplomatically allowed me to do it.

Wish me luck. You can join Emily and cross your fingers if you want to.