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After enjoying a nice breakfast with the guys at the club, I requested a diet Coke to go for my Lady. It was 8:45 am and time to get back home. It is Superbowl Sunday (ooops that is trademarked so I might get sued.) and the only thing on our agenda is figuring out what snacky to bring to the SB get together at Tim and Meredith's and what six pack of wine to bring.
As I made my way home with the open top of my BMW off, and the wind blowing through my hair (I'll wait a moment for the laughing to stop), I see the love of my life headed towards me on the back roads of Dove Canyon.
We stopped and she explains the 11 things she has to do before we head to the shindig, hence making it a relatively quiet day. I see our two big dogs in the back of her GMC Denali Yosemite Yellowstone Glacier SUV. They have open sores that are nasty and require a trip to the vet. (She has not been to the Vet since Friday, oh wait a minute the Horse Vet was at the stables yesterday. Almost a whole day with out a visit with a Vet.)
I traveled home to emptiness of the house (only 3 cats, two dogs, and Manchild) and decide this is a good time to do some of the blog.
I had a chance to compare notes with one of the guys at breakfast this morning, concerning teenage boys. We each have this issue with them not being able to make the sublime connection from staying up till "stupid" AM and being tired the next day. Was I that lame?
I was not allowed to stay up that late (and there was no such thing as multi-player gaming and 937 cable channels) and I sure as hell was not allowed to sleep in till 9, 10, 11 etc.
During the week Dad would come in about 5:15 and say, "Get your ass up." I would translate that to mean, "Good morning son, pride of my existence. I beseech your company as we merrily jog a mile on the high school track before I leave to go to work to provide for you Son, fruit of my loin."
On the weekends, his kind words of "Get your ass up." Would be postponed to almost 7:00 am.
But my buddy and I have the same issues with our child. I will go into his wing of the house about 11:00PM and say, "Dude, make good decisions." Apparently that means don't do drugs, no girls in the room, but stay up until your behind melds with the material in the couch playing gratuitously violent video games until your hand evolve into controller holding devices only suitable for playing video games and eating burgers, pizzas, and burritos.
The usual reply we get from our child is, "Ok I just have to finish this level." Now that is teen speak for "Piss off". After about 15 minutes I return to the latent testosterone arena and see my cherub looking son still playing the game and looking at me and saying "Huh?" Which is teen speak for, "I told you to piss off."
Then we ask the stupid question, "How long does it take to finish the level?" We are told, "I finished the level, now I am saving the game. . ." With the unsaid but easily assumed", . . .you stupid jerk." Now I can't blame him for that dialogue as he comes from it naturally.
Many times during the week, well maybe the day, well maybe the hour, I will ask a fairly innocent question of Devin like, "Do the trash cans have to be put out today?" And even though her reply will be as simple as, "Yes dear, it is Sunday . . ." the balance of the assumed but unsaid conversation is, ". . . you stupid jerk."
Or like when I ask, "Dinner is almost ready, do you want me to take out the dogs?" The reply, as though she was talking to rain man, is "Yes dear, good idea . . ." with the assumed but unspoken " . . you stupid jerk."
Folks, you can play this game at home. Next time you ask your significant other (I'll be glad when marriages of all genders and species are allowed so I can write "your spouse" instead of significant other.) a silly question, like "Can I pull the car out of the driveway for you?" Just listen to the reply then add DOT DOT DOT YOU STUPID JERK. It really works.
We got a busy week ahead.
Monday Devin is going to the Apple Bar for a One on One class with the staff at the Apple Store. Santa brought her a beautiful Mac Air computer and she wants to integrate the Air with the Pad with the Pod with the Phone with the Cloud with the . . . .
She will be there with the trainer and be asking WHY? I will have a few hours off duty and not having answer WHY? I should be careful here as I do not recall being excused from this appointment??????
We also have a meeting on Wednesday regarding the Equine property in question. Thursday is a mediations on the lawsuit we were dragged into as a result of the great flood of 2010. Then Thursday night, my entourage of Dennis and Jack accompany me to Utah to have Big Red removed from my right hand.
Then the amazing Dr. V. will remove the three railroad ties from my hand (I am assuming it will be a local and not have to put me out.), put a brace on, and have me begin PT. So next weeks blog will be 14 pages long.
Tonight, after a wonderful evening at Tim and Meredith's home watching the Superbowl, Devin and I stopped to feed the horses. When we got home, I invited Jack to join me for the second installment of the Die Hard saga. He enjoyed this as we picked out many bloopers in the old film.
I finished the night reading more of The Mistress of The Vatican. Folks, if you ever wanted to read bout the history, name places, ceremonies, and dark sides of the early Catholic Church and Rome, this is a terrific, well researched book.
An interesting stat on the blog. According to Writer's Digest, the average novel has between 80,000-120,000 words. My last post was number 783 (The blog originated in this form in October 2009. A few of you were subjected to several hundred e-mails before that.). Each post is about 1,200 words. That works out to 939,000 words. In essence, I have written the equivalent of eight or nine novels.
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Since 12/31/2012
