Monkey Love

During my trip to NJ I had the glorious opportunity to hang out with the Clark Family's favorite monkey: Dave Boylston (aka Eoylston and his Red Fox). I went out to eat several times with the Monkey and some of my brothers and friends. A question was posed to the said Monkey: "Who is the cutest Clark?"

Our Monkey friend thought for a while and said, "Tom (Lord Baldemort)." I was disappointed and argued for top billing and the Monkey restated, "Well, Tom in his prime. I guess right now I would have to go with you." Although I had to coax him into it, I am proud to say that I am currently the cutest Clark in his mind. I think this picture confirms his feelings for me.

After seeing this picture, I think I might be on the top of the Moose's list too.

Red Beard's Castle

Several weeks ago I posted possible options for Red Beard's new home since his lease was running up. We had several good options, but the buzzard went with something quite unexpected. Instead of a nice bridge to sleep under, the troll chose a camper. While in NJ, I was able to tour his location and take some photos.

Here is an outside picture of his new abode. The camper is on a farm in the woods. The area is kind of creepy--think Deliverance.Here we have a rare sighting of Red Beard. He is in his new home showing off his kitchen and guest bed (that checkered thing to the right of his head). He is anxious for someone to sleep over. Crepes and a smoothie anyone?Here is a picture of the other side of the house. You can see Red Beard on his bed. I guess it's not as small as we have heard; after all, he can fit a moose in there. Overall it was quite an interesting experience. I am not sure if I could do it, but then again I have never been a fan of camping. And yes, this rugged lifestyle certainly qualifies as camping in my book. The poor pirate has to urinate in old soda cans for crying out loud!

Donkey Directions: Have it Your Way

Some of you (women) have been shocked and incensed by my wife advice column. I am sorry, but I am just a man trying to survive. You will be happy to know that this week's lesson is not really about a terrible mistake I made, but more about sound advice for your husbands. As always, it will help the husbands out there avoid the pitfalls that seem to follow me around.

The Donkey Says: When your wife argues with you on a fact, let her have her way.

This is perhaps the most valuable advice I have documented to date. Learn this, and you will be a happy man. Let me explain this lesson through a scenario (this and many similar scenarios have happened to me).

Scenario

You and your wife are driving to a party. You say, "I think we need to go right at the light up there." You are really just thinking out loud, not expecting a response, but for some reason your wife chirps, "No, it is a left." You think for a minute and say, "No, it is a right. I remember going that way last time." She counters, "You have a terrible memory. I remember that it is a left." You start to get frustrated and say, "Listen, I drove last time and remember making a right." She says, "Well I was in the car too if you remember, and we certainly made a left." At that moment, right when you are about to say something you will regret, you need to relax and say, "You know, I will make a left." Your wife is surprised. She wonders if you are serious, and by George, you are. You make the left. There are two possible outcomes: 1) your wife is right and the car is heading in the right direction; 2) you were right and the car is now heading in the wrong direction.

Outcome 1: Your wife is correct. Are you better off? Yes. You saved time and showed your wife that you were willing to listen to her.

Outcome 2: You were right. Are you better off? Absolutely! Time has been wasted, but you have been vindicated. The key here is not to gloat. Just turn the car around and start driving in the right direction. You can throw on a slight smirk to let yourself know that you have triumphed. Just be ready to deny the smirk in case she sees it. Nice work.

This technique really works well when the argument can actually be proven. WARNING: DO NOT USE in cases where you are dealing with opinions that cannot be proven or when the situation is serious enough that a wrong answer is too costly.

Remember: Always go with what she says. You'll come up with aces every time.

"Weird Al" Coming Soon

I am so excited that "Weird Al" will be performing again here in Utah. The concert is in September at the Utah State Fair Park (same as last time). Gump and I had a really fun time last time, and we were able to sneak really close. I took some photos:

This is the stage. We got way closer later.

Here are some idiots sparring to discover who the biggest creep is. They probably thought they would be performing during The Saga Begins. Major creeps.

Doomed with a Disability

I work in the field of human resources, and I occasionally deal with employee disability issues. Managers will sometimes ask me what qualifies as a disability; I usually point them to definitions such as "an employee who has an impairment or perceived impairment that substantially limits one or more major life activities." I've thought about this several times and have realized something scary: I will soon be classified as disabled. In fact, I may already be considered disabled, especially living in Utah. Let me tell you why: First of all, I am very short. I am only 5'6". Although not considered a midget, in time I will be one. The reason is obvious: the U.S. population will continue to get taller while I remain the same or get shorter. The average male height in 1900 was 5'6", but because of better eating, stricter limitations on immigration, and giants in Utah, the average U.S. man is currently 5'10". In about 50 years I predict the average male height to be 6'5", and I will be at least a foot shorter than that by then.

I am especially under the average height here in Utah. I walk through the grocery stores amidst giants, both male and female. Several months ago my brother and I were marveling over the number of women over 6'0". Every guy out here is at least 6'0" while most are much taller. I swim through a sea of legs as I try to get to the front of a line.

Finally, a 'perceived disability,' is just that - one of perception. In New Jersey I wouldn't be perceived as being disabled, but in other parts of the country, people would consider me disabled--unable to perform basic activities like slamming a basketball.

So I am here to predict that at some point in the future I will be classified as disabled, unable to do the normal things that all you other giants can do. But hey, at least I will have a parking pass.

I need your support

Nancy is claiming that she is not from a farm. Faithful followers, you know the truth. She has put a poll on her site asking whether or not she is from a farm. I am losing the vote and need some support. I am sure you will vote in my favor anyway, but feel free to read my arument and you will be fully justified. Click here to vote (it is on the left pane).

By the way, I lay claim to the name "Ringo." You may use the name in print form for $1 a spot. Here are the results of the poll:

Wife Advice: The “Calves” and “Calves Not”

Lesson 3: If your wife compliments herself, let her enjoy the moment. Don’t offer additional explanations.

Several months ago, my wife was feeling down in the dumps. She had been working out for a while but didn’t feel like she was seeing results. I tried to explain that results would be much quicker with a little more consistency and careful eating. This wasn’t received well, but since she is used to my ways, it wasn’t a major problem. She said, “I’m just frustrated because I look exactly the same and I am working hard.” She then said, with a positive ring in her voice, “But at least my calves are looking pretty defined.”

I observed her calves and thought that they were somewhat defined. I then proceeded to tell her why. “You see,” I said, “in my experience I have noticed that big people typically have nice defined legs. I think it’s because they are carrying around a lot of weight, and the legs get a lot of extra exercise.”

She didn’t appreciate my explanation on the matter and said, “If you refuse to pay me compliments, you could at least let me try to pay myself one.” I proceeded to tell her that I have scrawny legs because I am skinny, and that it isn’t a good thing either. Besides, at least she can lose weight and maintain the definition, while I need to bulk up and work hard to define my legs.

This was quite unconvincing and she ended the subject abruptly. Later she told me that I should have just agreed with her when she complimented herself.

My suggestion: Enjoy the fact that your wife is willing to compliment herself and save you the trouble.

The Official Creep Winner Is...

It shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone that Lord Baldemort has been dubbed The Official Creep. I have decided not to copyright this title because I want it in the public domain for all to use. Red Beard ended in second place and seemed surprised that he had so many votes. Some of you wanted my name on the list, but after speaking to almost everyone, it was apparent that only 2 people would have actually voted, so quit crying. I am excited to see Harry Potter and to see what Lord Baldemort's brother looks like.

The Lineup and The Alamo

(This is the Tippmann Castle at Skirmish in PA. This beast is 4 stories high!)

I was talking to the Moose yesterday, and we decided that we will do the lineup for paintball while I am out in NJ. For those who don’t know, this involves standing in a line with the other soldiers while being shot with an entire hopper. The person shooting is typically about 20-30 feet away, so those bad boys sting. We then rotate and the next person gets to shoot, until everyone has shot. It is worth it because you get to juice someone like you never have before. Perhaps the Moose can put some footage up of Homer getting shot last time.

I thought I would document one of the funniest paintball moments from over the years. It happened during our first trip to the paintball fields at Skirmish. This place is awesome if you haven’t been there yet.

Background: We were on a field called The Alamo. It had 4 high towers (2 stories high) on the corners of the field that one or two people could fit in. It also had a base in the center of the field that about 6 people could fit in. The base was on 4 stilts, with a ladder in the middle that you climb up. The floor of the base was about 5 feet from the ground, so enemies could hide under it. Once you climb up the ladder and are in the base, you are surrounded by 4 foot walls on 3 sides. This gives good protection to soldiers in the base. But there is no wall on the fourth side. In fact, it is wide open to attack. The object of this field is to keep at least one man alive for 15 minutes while the Alamo is under attack.

The Setup: We had about 22 people playing that day--11 on each team. Our team was in the alamo first. We put a few people in the towers, a few in the base, and a few on the ground. The enemy attacked, and we put up a good defense, but we were killed with about 2 minutes left. We switched sides and the whistle blew.

The Search: Our team, now on the offensive and ready to avenge our loss, searched the field for the enemy. We secured each tower and quickly learned that the enemy decided not to occupy any of them. We searched every wood pile and cluster of bushes, but no enemy. We decided to rush the base. Half our team sprinted under the base and crouched down. But no shots. I decided to look up the ladder to see if anyone was up there. As soon as I did, shots rang down the ladder. I quickly jerked my head back to avoid being shot. I remembered seeing so many gun barrels and telling the team, “I think they are all up there.”

The Attack: We decided that we would walk under the base to the side that had no wall. We would lift up our guns blindly over the floor of the base (5 feet high) and fire. On the count of 3 we went and began firing.

The Massacre: We fired for what seemed to be minutes, but certainly it was more like 15 seconds. Just then a body came flying off the base right over our heads. I turned to look while I continued to fire and this body laid on the ground completely covered in paint. It was one of the enemy soldiers. He had launched himself off the base through the side with no wall. I kept shooting until it registered that this guy must have been shot 20 times. As the adrenaline wore down, the sounds of screams finally registered. Just then another body came flying out of the base and then another, and another. I ordered the troops to stop shooting. We came out from under the base and looked over the floor boards into the base. The rest of the team was huddled in the corner like a bunch of rowdy prisoners being disciplined with a water hose. Actually, it more looked like a bunch of illegal immigrants hiding in the back of an ice cream truck. I think you get the point.

The Conclusion: The team crawled out of the base. All were covered in paint. The younger kids playing with us were crying. Several had injuries. One guy had been shot in the face several times and the spray went through the ventilation of his mask and cut up his lips. They were really angry with us. Luckily it was the end of the day because there was now bad blood and things could have gotten crazy if we continued.

I thought about the carnage for a minute and realized this is something we would be doing again. In what context can you completely destroy your friends and family all in the name of fun? It was one of the greatest paintball massacres known to man, and I was able to be part of it. Perhaps there are others who can share some of their favorite paintball stories from other trips.

The Legacy Continues

David made me a proud father the other day when he pulled his own 'Sure Buddy.' I was able to capture a few pictures of the insult.

The Victim: None other than Red Beard himself. How would it feel to be disgraced like that by your own one-year-old grandson?

Give Credit Where Credit Is Due

There have been great debates over the ownership of nicknames, songs, etc. We should all agree that Homer and I have coined many a phrase. But one individual has gone unrecognized in all of this. That is why I feel a tribute to the King is in order: King of sideburns, grease, and nicknames. Although he is an elusive enigma, we should discuss a few of his gems:

• Sure Buddy – Did you know that the Greaser is the owner of “Sure Buddy?” What a classic! He not only perfected the phrase, he also incorporated an entire body gyration that includes the ‘Sure Buddy’ hand signal.
• Mr. Wrinkles – There is no doubt that you will be called ‘Mr. Wrinkles’ when you are near the Hound dog with a wrinkled white shirt. This is a straight to the point insult that will last generations.
• Goofball – Another great that also speaks volumes in just one word. Variations of this name exist such as Goofenheimer and Goof.
• The phrase that must not be mentioned – This phrase was uttered to Homer during an argument. It is actually too heinous to be mentioned, but I think most people know what I am referring to.
• Inappropriate joke made at dinner – Although not an insult, this vintage joke lives on 10 years later. I imagine that Elvis still can’t find a camping buddy as a result.

There are many other great insults and stories that he should have credit for. Let's pay tribute to one of the sultans of insults. What else has he coined? Perhaps this tribute can pull him out of hiding.

Wife Advice: It's Not the Thought that Counts

Lesson 2: Telling your wife that you were thinking about buying her flowers--but then decided not to--doesn't actually count for anything. In fact, it does more damage than good.

I find buying flowers to be a big waste of money. They cost a lot, bring in bugs, and usually smell gross. Some people like to say, "Oh, but you have to water them and nurture them just like a relationship." Are you an idiot? Within a matter of days the flowers are dead, symbolizing that love is short-lived and will soon end, despite all the effort. Why would anyone want to send that message to someone they love?

Because of this, a few years ago I decided to just tell my wife that I almost bought flowers for her, but changed my mind and didn't. This seemed logical because I could show that I put some thought into it; I just didn't follow through with a transaction at the register. I had mentally done something nice without spending money. Well, telling her this did not go well. She was quite angry that I couldn't shell out a few bucks to make her happy. I explained that I did, and showed her a gift certificate to Chili's. This leads me to:

Lesson 2a: Don't get your wife a gift that directly benefits you unless you are very clever or have a slow wife. This would include a gift certificate to your favorite restaurant, movie tickets, a surprise vacation to see your family, a new dvd that you have been dying to own, etc. They can see through this and know what you are doing.

Anyway, I tried the "I thought about buying you flowers today, but didn't" thing again the next year. This time I got into even more trouble for not remembering that this had made her angry the year before. She told me she would rather have me never tell her about things I was "going to do" because it was too disappointing to her.

My suggestion: Don't buy the flowers, and just don't mention that you thought about it. You can save a lot of money and heartache.