We were early for Miss Beverly and Her Music Machine. By about 20 minutes. Any mom or dad of a young kid knows those 20 minutes can go south real fast. They can be brutal. Here we are at the library looking for a way to kill those 20 minutes. The puppets and stage and aquarium ain't cuttin it. The computers for the older kids are always a hit for my 22 month old, but the librarians shoot nasty ass faces at me if I let her google shit, etc.
So we start to make our way to the lobby for this FREE 45 minute class for 2 and 3 year olds. There have to be 150 people just piled in. No sign of organization, no sign of any library workers ushering the greggs and their kids in. So we wait. But I'm on borrowed time. And I'm starting to think it's cow dung that we can't at least go into the room where Beverly and her banjo are sitting. When we finally get up to the front of the line and are 3 steps from walking into the room, a woman with a clipboard asks me for my confirmation number.
Here we go, people. Yet another showdown.
Clipboard Lady: Hello there, I need your conf # please.
Janko: Yes, I recd a confirmation #.
Clipboard Lady: Okay, well what is it then?
Janko: Seriously? I wa ssupposed to bring it with me? The instructions did not say to do that. It was LGX45971PT I think.
CL: Okay, as she scrolls down her clipboard. I believe I have you on here. Now please give me your child's conf #."
Janko: To register for the class we had to use our library card. So I signed myself up but she (holding Katherine and moving her closer to Clipboard Lady)doesn't have a library card so I didn't sign her up. I mean, she's only 22 months old. What child at that age has a card?
CL: Clearly, you did not follow the rules for registration so I need you to stand against this wall. Once I sign in the rest of the attendees - all 167 of them - I will let you know if we have room for your little one.
Janko: Okay, so basically I am able to get into those Music Madness show but my kid can't? Does this really make any sense? I would attend the show and leave my child out in the hallway?
CL: Please step back and get against that wall. With your daughter.
Janko: Katherine says in a voice as clear as day to the Clipboard Lady - "I hit."
CL: We are going to need you to keep her away from the other kids if you actually make it inside. We find once one child exhibits voilent behavior many other children choose to display inappropriate behavior as well. We would not want her to sabotage Beverly's show.
Janko: No, she just says that but she can control herself. I always keep a close eye on her. Now Katherine leans in and says, "I burp. Scooze me!"
CL: Mam, there are about 75 people waiting to get checked in behind you. PLEASE step aside.
Janko: So do you think we'll make the cut? Cause if our chances are slim to none I'll blow outta here right now. No sense in standing aroiund when I could be back home getting dinner ready, you know?
CL: Just get away.
As I walk away I start getting really steamed. Total bullshit that they allow so many kids in this program. Such bullshit that you need to bring in your conf #. Who the hell brings that when they don't tell you to. As I look around, I see a sea of dirts. All itchin to get that front row seat right next to the banjo.
F the banjo. I don't need this crap. I have a ukelelea my sister bought Andrew about 5 years ago. So we tear outta there and I walk ini the house, head for the basement and start ripping strings on the ukelelea.
And the damn kid squares off and hits me.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Thursday, October 8, 2009
They're Like God's Personal Rules For Us...
Picking up Andrew from chatechism this week, his teacher tells me they reviewed the 10 Commandments.
So, while we're driving home I probe. All good parents probe to a degree. I usually don't get much in return, but this night was a completely different story.
Mama Janko: "So, Mr. Hamilton said that you guys talked about the 10 Commandments tonight in class. What'd you think?"
Andrew: "Well, first we played football with this little nerf ball. It was cool cause if you threw it hard enough and close enough to your victim, it really packed a punch. But yeah, we eventually talked about Jesus's little rules."
Mama Janko: "So what do you remember about the rules? Do you remember any specific ones?"
Andrew: Well, first off you shouldn't be concerned with what everyone else has. Even if the kid down the street has way better Pokemon cards than you do, just let it go. LET IT GO, Mom. It's not worth getting uptight about."
Mama Janko: "Of course. Because "things" can't make you happy. For me, my family makes me happy. I feel blessed to have you and Katherine and Dad and my sisters and parents in my life."
Andrew: "Okay, but sometimes do those people piss you off? I know Katherine does cause I hear you say under your breath, "God better give me the strength to handle this one." I know it's not you, Mom. She's an animal sometimes. She could drive anyone crazy."
Mama Janko: (trying to diffuse the situation): "I am blessed thatmy family is healthy."
Andrew: "Okay, here's the other one. Don't be all interested in married men. And be especially careful with this in our neighborhood. You know who is married, Mom. And you know that you should let those people stay married. Don't try to date the husband. You have Dad and you should be happy with him. And the same goes for Dad. He needs to realize that he is stuck with you forever. If you start getting interested in married people, things can get all jacked up."
Mama Janko: "Right. Just leave the married people alone. They are happy and nobody should interfere."
Andrew: "See Mom, you understand adultery, don't you?"
Mama Janko: "So did Mr. Hamilton talk about obeying your mom and dad?"
Andrew: "I feel like I understand all of these rules. And I'm pretty much over it. At this point, I really want to know when I can wear one of those robes and go on the altar and hold the bible for the priest to read out of during mass? Oh, and I asked Mr. Hamilton, if that is wine that you guys are drinking when you go up for Holy Communion. He told me it was. So I want to know if Dad sells wine to our priest? Cause that would be really weird. But if he doesn't, he should talk to his boss about gettin that account. He could do tastings with the priest and upsell him."
So, while we're driving home I probe. All good parents probe to a degree. I usually don't get much in return, but this night was a completely different story.
Mama Janko: "So, Mr. Hamilton said that you guys talked about the 10 Commandments tonight in class. What'd you think?"
Andrew: "Well, first we played football with this little nerf ball. It was cool cause if you threw it hard enough and close enough to your victim, it really packed a punch. But yeah, we eventually talked about Jesus's little rules."
Mama Janko: "So what do you remember about the rules? Do you remember any specific ones?"
Andrew: Well, first off you shouldn't be concerned with what everyone else has. Even if the kid down the street has way better Pokemon cards than you do, just let it go. LET IT GO, Mom. It's not worth getting uptight about."
Mama Janko: "Of course. Because "things" can't make you happy. For me, my family makes me happy. I feel blessed to have you and Katherine and Dad and my sisters and parents in my life."
Andrew: "Okay, but sometimes do those people piss you off? I know Katherine does cause I hear you say under your breath, "God better give me the strength to handle this one." I know it's not you, Mom. She's an animal sometimes. She could drive anyone crazy."
Mama Janko: (trying to diffuse the situation): "I am blessed thatmy family is healthy."
Andrew: "Okay, here's the other one. Don't be all interested in married men. And be especially careful with this in our neighborhood. You know who is married, Mom. And you know that you should let those people stay married. Don't try to date the husband. You have Dad and you should be happy with him. And the same goes for Dad. He needs to realize that he is stuck with you forever. If you start getting interested in married people, things can get all jacked up."
Mama Janko: "Right. Just leave the married people alone. They are happy and nobody should interfere."
Andrew: "See Mom, you understand adultery, don't you?"
Mama Janko: "So did Mr. Hamilton talk about obeying your mom and dad?"
Andrew: "I feel like I understand all of these rules. And I'm pretty much over it. At this point, I really want to know when I can wear one of those robes and go on the altar and hold the bible for the priest to read out of during mass? Oh, and I asked Mr. Hamilton, if that is wine that you guys are drinking when you go up for Holy Communion. He told me it was. So I want to know if Dad sells wine to our priest? Cause that would be really weird. But if he doesn't, he should talk to his boss about gettin that account. He could do tastings with the priest and upsell him."
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
It's not about speed, it's about endurance
If you know me well, you know I hate to sweat. It really bothers me. But I realize now I need to sweat here and there. I must exercise. So over the last several months I have been trying my damndest to run.
I went online, googled "5k training for lazy asses" and found an 8 week training course which could get me off the couch and into a race. I religiously got up in the dead of winter 5 days a week and ran at 6 AM. This is a real milestone for me. I did it and dammit, I am proud.
I also ran in (2) 5ks this summer. I was real slow and steady. I even let the 95 pound man waving a 6 foot american flag and singing Lee Greenwood's "Proud to be an American" pass me by. It was embarassin but it had to be done. And when I finished my first race, I nearly collapsed on the pavement. Seriously, the last mile was a blur. The people around me were fuzzy. All I could see was a Dunkin Donuts which I believe to this day pulled me through.
Now I know my training method was nothin spectacular, but I figured it had to be allright - shit it was on the internet.
Well, tonight was the first night of Running Club. I was nervous to join, but being a stay at home mom, I need that light at the end of the tunnel. You know the one that says, "Tonight, after making beds, doing laundry, vaccuuming, driving your kid to and from the comic book store that's a half hour away AND making dinner, you are GETTING out." And those words kept me charging forward all day.
So I showed up and we all introduced ourselves. We also had to provide a brief overview of our prior running experiecnce. I kept mine to a minimum (unlike chatty Paul, one of the coaches). I also wanted to be real and admitted I am a cooped up SAHM and I feel like a crazy bitch sometimes so I need to exercise.
So we started running. It's this run/walk approach, which I have never done. The training I did preciously included running like an asshole for as long as I could.
Well, wouldn't you know sweet ass Paul (one of the coaches) corners me half way into the run tonight. He weaves in and out of the other greggs to get his two cents in on my previous approach.
It goes somethin like this:
95 pound Paul: "You know last week I ran 55 miles and I never got hung up on how fast I ran."
Janko: "Yeah, well I wouldn't either, man. The fact that you clocked thay many miles is yo yo unbelieveable."
Paul: "So you do understand this is not a race. This is about endurance. It doesn't matter how fast you go. It's about pushing your body to continue for longer and longer."
Janko: "Right, but I do believe they have clocks at the end of each race so you can see how you did. Did you ever notice those, Paul?
Paul: "I have my own watch. It's located between my ears. I run according to what my bod is telling me. You need to stop worrying about your speed and listen to what's going on between YOUR ears."
Janko: "Right,Paul. The last time I was able to concentrate or focus on something for more than 10 seconds was in 2002, before I had my 1st child, Paul. Life was simpler than. Nobody crying and moanin except the jackasses at work. Now I spend my time strategizing on how I can spend my days entertaining my two kids. What's gonna make them happy? What's gonna make them fight? Cause if they start fightin and shooting and shit, Paul, it's all she wrote for me. Then my husband walks in and wonders why I'm not shizznitted out and happy to see him."
Paul: "How old are your kids?"
Janko: "20 months with a bad ass attitude and a 6 year old that never allows more than 5 seconds of dead air."
Paul: "Can you put them in a double stroller and exercise with them?"
Janko: "So, Paul, I think you're missin the whole point here. I joined this running debacle to get AWAY from my kids. I need to CLEAR MY HEAD, man. And besides that, the weight in that stroller would be nearly 100 pounds."
Paul: "Precisely, then there's no way you could be a speed demon. If you focused on speed you would die with those two in the basket."
The running comes to a close and he follows me to my car. Here's the closing thought for the night:
Paul: "You know, your whole approach needs to change. You are going to sicken the group. I noticed a few people playing close attention to you. You're influential and I want to make sure we're all on the same page with this. I want to get your email so we can talk about this more OFFLINE and away from the group. And I don't want to see you speeding down Tienken or Adams in the next few days. I frequent those roads and I WILL pull over and give you a stiff talking to. Now gimme your email. I can tell you're gonna be my challenge."
I told Paul I don't have an email address. In fact, I told him I don't even own a computer. I used one at work and was never real impressed so why would I have one at home. Plus, there is a lot of dirty stuff floating around on the internet. I even dropped the words cyber sex.
Then I came home and had a big bowl of ice cream.
Man, I love this running club.
I went online, googled "5k training for lazy asses" and found an 8 week training course which could get me off the couch and into a race. I religiously got up in the dead of winter 5 days a week and ran at 6 AM. This is a real milestone for me. I did it and dammit, I am proud.
I also ran in (2) 5ks this summer. I was real slow and steady. I even let the 95 pound man waving a 6 foot american flag and singing Lee Greenwood's "Proud to be an American" pass me by. It was embarassin but it had to be done. And when I finished my first race, I nearly collapsed on the pavement. Seriously, the last mile was a blur. The people around me were fuzzy. All I could see was a Dunkin Donuts which I believe to this day pulled me through.
Now I know my training method was nothin spectacular, but I figured it had to be allright - shit it was on the internet.
Well, tonight was the first night of Running Club. I was nervous to join, but being a stay at home mom, I need that light at the end of the tunnel. You know the one that says, "Tonight, after making beds, doing laundry, vaccuuming, driving your kid to and from the comic book store that's a half hour away AND making dinner, you are GETTING out." And those words kept me charging forward all day.
So I showed up and we all introduced ourselves. We also had to provide a brief overview of our prior running experiecnce. I kept mine to a minimum (unlike chatty Paul, one of the coaches). I also wanted to be real and admitted I am a cooped up SAHM and I feel like a crazy bitch sometimes so I need to exercise.
So we started running. It's this run/walk approach, which I have never done. The training I did preciously included running like an asshole for as long as I could.
Well, wouldn't you know sweet ass Paul (one of the coaches) corners me half way into the run tonight. He weaves in and out of the other greggs to get his two cents in on my previous approach.
It goes somethin like this:
95 pound Paul: "You know last week I ran 55 miles and I never got hung up on how fast I ran."
Janko: "Yeah, well I wouldn't either, man. The fact that you clocked thay many miles is yo yo unbelieveable."
Paul: "So you do understand this is not a race. This is about endurance. It doesn't matter how fast you go. It's about pushing your body to continue for longer and longer."
Janko: "Right, but I do believe they have clocks at the end of each race so you can see how you did. Did you ever notice those, Paul?
Paul: "I have my own watch. It's located between my ears. I run according to what my bod is telling me. You need to stop worrying about your speed and listen to what's going on between YOUR ears."
Janko: "Right,Paul. The last time I was able to concentrate or focus on something for more than 10 seconds was in 2002, before I had my 1st child, Paul. Life was simpler than. Nobody crying and moanin except the jackasses at work. Now I spend my time strategizing on how I can spend my days entertaining my two kids. What's gonna make them happy? What's gonna make them fight? Cause if they start fightin and shooting and shit, Paul, it's all she wrote for me. Then my husband walks in and wonders why I'm not shizznitted out and happy to see him."
Paul: "How old are your kids?"
Janko: "20 months with a bad ass attitude and a 6 year old that never allows more than 5 seconds of dead air."
Paul: "Can you put them in a double stroller and exercise with them?"
Janko: "So, Paul, I think you're missin the whole point here. I joined this running debacle to get AWAY from my kids. I need to CLEAR MY HEAD, man. And besides that, the weight in that stroller would be nearly 100 pounds."
Paul: "Precisely, then there's no way you could be a speed demon. If you focused on speed you would die with those two in the basket."
The running comes to a close and he follows me to my car. Here's the closing thought for the night:
Paul: "You know, your whole approach needs to change. You are going to sicken the group. I noticed a few people playing close attention to you. You're influential and I want to make sure we're all on the same page with this. I want to get your email so we can talk about this more OFFLINE and away from the group. And I don't want to see you speeding down Tienken or Adams in the next few days. I frequent those roads and I WILL pull over and give you a stiff talking to. Now gimme your email. I can tell you're gonna be my challenge."
I told Paul I don't have an email address. In fact, I told him I don't even own a computer. I used one at work and was never real impressed so why would I have one at home. Plus, there is a lot of dirty stuff floating around on the internet. I even dropped the words cyber sex.
Then I came home and had a big bowl of ice cream.
Man, I love this running club.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
My Name is Stanley, but I would like you to call me Stan
The actual last name of Stanley will not be revealed in this post. For obvious reasons.
The crew is headed up north for the 4th of July and while my hubby will be able to play a few rounds of 18, I, too, would like to do something for myself. For some strange reason, I feel running (or as I like to call it, a fast as hell walk)a 5k will fit the bill.
So we stay in a development just 30 minutes outside of Alpenis (Alpena for all you politically correct greggs). It's called Lost Lake Woods. And there's really no need to leave LLW because they have everything you could ever need. Golf course, driving range, skeet shooting, lake, horse stables, etc. And a gift shop with a dorm freezer stuffed with ice cream sandwiches. They also have a 4th of July Parade but we can deal with that later.
As I was surfing the internet lookin for interesting happenings the 4th of July weekend, I came across a 5K in Alpenis. Since it's a small town, you can't go online for more info. You have to call. I figured it was the number to the local chamber. Man was I ever wrong...
Janko dials random number:
Very Very old man answers: "Ummmmm.... errrr....hello."
Janko: "Hi, I am calling about your 5k on the 4th of July. I saw it on the internet and I'd like to sign up. Is there a website I can go to to do this?"
Old Man: "Ahhhhh...No."
Janko: "Okay, well how can I sign up then?"
Old Man: "You can come on down to the post office on 2nd street and make sure you bring your pocketbook and your shirt size."
Janko: "Well, that won't work cause I live in Detroit and I cannot just shoot over to the post office. Can we handle this on the morning of the race?"
Old Man: "We most certainly cannot, lady. You need to get here early. Plus, if you sign up prior to the race, I can save you $3."
Janko: "I like the idea of saving money since it's a real economic mess down here in Detroit right now, but again, I cannot get up there early. And sir, who am I speaking with?"
Old Man: "My name is Stanley Muchgettekin. But I would like you to call me Stan."
Janko: "Okay, Stan. Will you be running the race yourself?"
Stan: "I am damn near gonna try, honey. Now listen to me. You got anyway to get yourself on a computer and get an email?"
Janko: "I do. I am on FB all the time. You wanna send me something, Stan?"
Stan: "I don't know much bout Facebookin, but I can try to send you a little email once my wife gets back from IGA. I will also add a small attachment. You know how to open them things up?"
Janko: "I do. If it's an application I will fill it out and mail you my check. That way you get my money well before the race. Sound good?"
Stan: "As much I want to take that money of yours, I also need to know yer shirt size."
Janko: "Right, right. I will include that info on the app."
Stan: "Now I am concerned bout your arrival the day of the race. Will you be comin from Detroit?"
Janko: "No. I will be driving from Lost Lake Woods."
Stan: "So yer willin to miss their big 4th of July Parade? Dang! That's been goin on for upwards of 60 years."
Janko: "Yeah, I am taking my chances and missing it. But can we get back to the race? I can make it to Alpenis on my own, I just don't know where to go once I get downtown. But I have Onstar so why don't you gimme the address where the runners meet and I'll be fine?"
Stan: "You got what?!"
Janko: "Onstar. It will provide turn by turn directions if I tell them the address."
Stan: "Tell who?"
Janko: "Stan, this is really counterproductive right now. I have 2 kids that really need my attention. I just need the address from you."
Stan: "When the roads splits, head right. You can ask anyone to help you from there."
Janko: "I really need an address, Stan. That's what Onstar requires."
Stan: "Listen, I don't know who this wacky friend of yers is named Onstar but if you listen to me, I will get you there."
Janko: "Is your wife home yet, Stan?"
Stan: "Now the route is gonna be rela purty. Right on the waterfront. It will be a trail race. I mean, we will run in cement. You know a trail like."
Janko: "Okay, why don't you email me and I can get my money AND shirt size to you."
Stan: "I think I hear somethin. Damn ball and chain's back. She's been a real pain in my keister lately. See I am spending all this time on the race here and ignorin her. Ladies like attention."
Janko: "Yeah, aint that the truth. And get it while you can."
Stan: "I'm startin to notice you and me. We think alike."
Janko: "Okay, I have to hang up now. Don't forget about that email, man.
Stan: "Right. Listen. Tell me your name now so I can look for you on the day of the race. "
Janko: "My friends call me Janko, Stan. And for damn good reason."
The crew is headed up north for the 4th of July and while my hubby will be able to play a few rounds of 18, I, too, would like to do something for myself. For some strange reason, I feel running (or as I like to call it, a fast as hell walk)a 5k will fit the bill.
So we stay in a development just 30 minutes outside of Alpenis (Alpena for all you politically correct greggs). It's called Lost Lake Woods. And there's really no need to leave LLW because they have everything you could ever need. Golf course, driving range, skeet shooting, lake, horse stables, etc. And a gift shop with a dorm freezer stuffed with ice cream sandwiches. They also have a 4th of July Parade but we can deal with that later.
As I was surfing the internet lookin for interesting happenings the 4th of July weekend, I came across a 5K in Alpenis. Since it's a small town, you can't go online for more info. You have to call. I figured it was the number to the local chamber. Man was I ever wrong...
Janko dials random number:
Very Very old man answers: "Ummmmm.... errrr....hello."
Janko: "Hi, I am calling about your 5k on the 4th of July. I saw it on the internet and I'd like to sign up. Is there a website I can go to to do this?"
Old Man: "Ahhhhh...No."
Janko: "Okay, well how can I sign up then?"
Old Man: "You can come on down to the post office on 2nd street and make sure you bring your pocketbook and your shirt size."
Janko: "Well, that won't work cause I live in Detroit and I cannot just shoot over to the post office. Can we handle this on the morning of the race?"
Old Man: "We most certainly cannot, lady. You need to get here early. Plus, if you sign up prior to the race, I can save you $3."
Janko: "I like the idea of saving money since it's a real economic mess down here in Detroit right now, but again, I cannot get up there early. And sir, who am I speaking with?"
Old Man: "My name is Stanley Muchgettekin. But I would like you to call me Stan."
Janko: "Okay, Stan. Will you be running the race yourself?"
Stan: "I am damn near gonna try, honey. Now listen to me. You got anyway to get yourself on a computer and get an email?"
Janko: "I do. I am on FB all the time. You wanna send me something, Stan?"
Stan: "I don't know much bout Facebookin, but I can try to send you a little email once my wife gets back from IGA. I will also add a small attachment. You know how to open them things up?"
Janko: "I do. If it's an application I will fill it out and mail you my check. That way you get my money well before the race. Sound good?"
Stan: "As much I want to take that money of yours, I also need to know yer shirt size."
Janko: "Right, right. I will include that info on the app."
Stan: "Now I am concerned bout your arrival the day of the race. Will you be comin from Detroit?"
Janko: "No. I will be driving from Lost Lake Woods."
Stan: "So yer willin to miss their big 4th of July Parade? Dang! That's been goin on for upwards of 60 years."
Janko: "Yeah, I am taking my chances and missing it. But can we get back to the race? I can make it to Alpenis on my own, I just don't know where to go once I get downtown. But I have Onstar so why don't you gimme the address where the runners meet and I'll be fine?"
Stan: "You got what?!"
Janko: "Onstar. It will provide turn by turn directions if I tell them the address."
Stan: "Tell who?"
Janko: "Stan, this is really counterproductive right now. I have 2 kids that really need my attention. I just need the address from you."
Stan: "When the roads splits, head right. You can ask anyone to help you from there."
Janko: "I really need an address, Stan. That's what Onstar requires."
Stan: "Listen, I don't know who this wacky friend of yers is named Onstar but if you listen to me, I will get you there."
Janko: "Is your wife home yet, Stan?"
Stan: "Now the route is gonna be rela purty. Right on the waterfront. It will be a trail race. I mean, we will run in cement. You know a trail like."
Janko: "Okay, why don't you email me and I can get my money AND shirt size to you."
Stan: "I think I hear somethin. Damn ball and chain's back. She's been a real pain in my keister lately. See I am spending all this time on the race here and ignorin her. Ladies like attention."
Janko: "Yeah, aint that the truth. And get it while you can."
Stan: "I'm startin to notice you and me. We think alike."
Janko: "Okay, I have to hang up now. Don't forget about that email, man.
Stan: "Right. Listen. Tell me your name now so I can look for you on the day of the race. "
Janko: "My friends call me Janko, Stan. And for damn good reason."
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Who are you people?!
Ahhhhhh...the joys of a family vaca. Getting all that closeness with eachother in a week's time. And the closeness is that much more special when you drive 22 hours to get to your family vacation destination.
We thought we could do it. We thought the drive would save us some coin. Everyone knows only biggashottas fly. The common folk pack a cooler and head south on 75. Hell, we even thought we could drive straight thru. Why not? We have 18 dvds in the car and 2 DVD players.
The ride was a joy. The hotels we stayed in were klassy, but the real kick in the knockers was when we finally made it to Florida and Andrew said, "All I really wanna do down here is swim in the pool." Fine by us. We agreed. So we unpacked the car and packed up all the shiznit for the pool. And believe me, we only had a few towels and a boogie board and a shovel which we happened to find in the back of the storage closet.
We trek down to the pool and slither in. Now this is the place I have been coming to for years with my sisters and parents. It's my grandparents place that now is my parents. It's older folks, but generally speaking they keep their cool.
We were in the pool for 2.5 minutes when two dirts come barreling out of the clubhouse.
Male Dirt: "Who are you people?"
Janko: he can't be serious greeting us this way. this behavior must be ignored.
Male Dirt: "Are you renters or owners?"
Janko: "Neither"
Female Dirt: "Where are you staying?"
Janko: "Over there." Pointing in the opposite direction of our condo.
Female Dirt: "You know we have rules around here. Did you read the pool rules before you came down here?"
Janko: "No."
Male Dirt: "You need to get that surfboard out of this pool right now."
Andrew swims over to me and asks me what is going on and if the police are going to come.
Janko: "Right. Right. And who are you? Are you the maintenance man?"
Toad is now huffing and puffing and nostrils are flaring.
Female Dirt: "I want to know if you read the pool rules."
Andrew thinks she is now talking to him and says, "I can't read stuff like that. I am just in Kindergarten and only know how to do easy reader books. You know the kind at the library that have that red line on them. The green ones are more challenging. But I know in time, I'll be able to read them. My Mom tells me to be patient and it'll happen."
Female Dirt: "You need to tell me where you renters are staying and I am going to drop off a copy of these pool rules in your unit."
Toad: "No. You don't need to do that. We'll take the boogie board out. If we're not sure what to bring in, we'll find you and run it by your first."
Male Dirt: "You know it's not right for you Northerners to come down here and start breaking our pool rules. These rules have been in place for 30 years and if you want to chnage em you need to come to a Board Meeting and petition."
Janko: "I've been coming here for 25 years and I know ALL about the pool rules. Now when is your next board meeting so we can all take a listen and make sure everything's running like a charmn down here."
Female Dirt: "I am the manager so I will stick a note in your condo with the Board Meeting schedule."
Toad: "Lady, you're not coming over to our condo. We don't need you dropping off paperwork. Me and her(points at me)are just trying to enjoy a little time with our family in the sunny weather. Now you two come rolling outta that clubhouse like you've got a serious bone to pick with us. I am sure both of you can appreciate our effort. Me and her have been in the car for 22 hours with these kids. Now my son wants to enjoy the pool and you're out here rantin and ravin about a boogie board. I told you I would take it out and I did. Now you need to step off."
Andrew says to me, "Mom, I think WE need to call 911. These people are absurd."
Male Dirt: "Have you people tried the Riverview Club down the road? It's private, but if you pay some money they will let you in. They have a pool down there, too."
Toad: "Gregg, now you're talking crazy. We are swimming in this pool. Right here. We are not loading up our stuff and driving down to a fancy shmantzy country club down the road."
Now the male and female dirt start backing up and organizing hoses, watering bushes, swatting at flies, etc.
I'm super pissed so I call my Mom and tell her she needs to get down here and rip these dirts apart. She acts all shocked that anyone gave us lip and told me to stop swimming there and find something else to do like walk on the beach as a family and collect seashells.
Here it comes, "Collect seashells? SERIOUSLY? I'll do that allright, but how can I deny my kids the opp to swim in the friggin pool?!"
Janko's Mom: "Well, I'm gonna call your sisters and see if they ever had these problems when they were down there. In the meantime, if those two folks come back, just smile and try to make small talk. They are probably irritated by your aggressiveness. You know down south they are much sweeter and slower than we are."
So my Mom calls back a day later and tells me that no one else in the family was busted at the pool. So clearly we are out of control and need to think about our actions more carefully.
Janko to Mom: "So no one has ever been scolded at the pool?! Come on. That has to be complete bullshit."
Janko's Mom: "No. The only thing I was told was there is a person down there that your brother in law saw on the golf course that looked like a transvestite. And he wasn't sure if he was transitioning into a man or woman. The transition must be early on. So if you see someone down there that matches this description, be kind to him or her. You know that would be just awful going through that. I saw an episode on Oprah once about that and it really tore me up."
Janko: "Yeah, I saw that guy. We call him Red Headed Woody. He's all messed up."
Janko's Mom: "Listen. You're down there to enjoy yourself. Stop worrying abut all of this other nonsense."
Janko: "Right. I'm just gonna go lay by the pool in my jeans and sweatshirt."
Two weeks after we get home, my Mom calls.
Janko's Mom: "Well, you must have really created a stir down in FL cause your father and I just got a letter from the President of the Board about an EMERGENCY BOARD MEETING RE: POOL RULES and REGULATIONS. I sure hope you didn't do anything to embarass me or your grandparent's good name.
I am now saving my pennies for a trip to Cedar Point.
We thought we could do it. We thought the drive would save us some coin. Everyone knows only biggashottas fly. The common folk pack a cooler and head south on 75. Hell, we even thought we could drive straight thru. Why not? We have 18 dvds in the car and 2 DVD players.
The ride was a joy. The hotels we stayed in were klassy, but the real kick in the knockers was when we finally made it to Florida and Andrew said, "All I really wanna do down here is swim in the pool." Fine by us. We agreed. So we unpacked the car and packed up all the shiznit for the pool. And believe me, we only had a few towels and a boogie board and a shovel which we happened to find in the back of the storage closet.
We trek down to the pool and slither in. Now this is the place I have been coming to for years with my sisters and parents. It's my grandparents place that now is my parents. It's older folks, but generally speaking they keep their cool.
We were in the pool for 2.5 minutes when two dirts come barreling out of the clubhouse.
Male Dirt: "Who are you people?"
Janko: he can't be serious greeting us this way. this behavior must be ignored.
Male Dirt: "Are you renters or owners?"
Janko: "Neither"
Female Dirt: "Where are you staying?"
Janko: "Over there." Pointing in the opposite direction of our condo.
Female Dirt: "You know we have rules around here. Did you read the pool rules before you came down here?"
Janko: "No."
Male Dirt: "You need to get that surfboard out of this pool right now."
Andrew swims over to me and asks me what is going on and if the police are going to come.
Janko: "Right. Right. And who are you? Are you the maintenance man?"
Toad is now huffing and puffing and nostrils are flaring.
Female Dirt: "I want to know if you read the pool rules."
Andrew thinks she is now talking to him and says, "I can't read stuff like that. I am just in Kindergarten and only know how to do easy reader books. You know the kind at the library that have that red line on them. The green ones are more challenging. But I know in time, I'll be able to read them. My Mom tells me to be patient and it'll happen."
Female Dirt: "You need to tell me where you renters are staying and I am going to drop off a copy of these pool rules in your unit."
Toad: "No. You don't need to do that. We'll take the boogie board out. If we're not sure what to bring in, we'll find you and run it by your first."
Male Dirt: "You know it's not right for you Northerners to come down here and start breaking our pool rules. These rules have been in place for 30 years and if you want to chnage em you need to come to a Board Meeting and petition."
Janko: "I've been coming here for 25 years and I know ALL about the pool rules. Now when is your next board meeting so we can all take a listen and make sure everything's running like a charmn down here."
Female Dirt: "I am the manager so I will stick a note in your condo with the Board Meeting schedule."
Toad: "Lady, you're not coming over to our condo. We don't need you dropping off paperwork. Me and her(points at me)are just trying to enjoy a little time with our family in the sunny weather. Now you two come rolling outta that clubhouse like you've got a serious bone to pick with us. I am sure both of you can appreciate our effort. Me and her have been in the car for 22 hours with these kids. Now my son wants to enjoy the pool and you're out here rantin and ravin about a boogie board. I told you I would take it out and I did. Now you need to step off."
Andrew says to me, "Mom, I think WE need to call 911. These people are absurd."
Male Dirt: "Have you people tried the Riverview Club down the road? It's private, but if you pay some money they will let you in. They have a pool down there, too."
Toad: "Gregg, now you're talking crazy. We are swimming in this pool. Right here. We are not loading up our stuff and driving down to a fancy shmantzy country club down the road."
Now the male and female dirt start backing up and organizing hoses, watering bushes, swatting at flies, etc.
I'm super pissed so I call my Mom and tell her she needs to get down here and rip these dirts apart. She acts all shocked that anyone gave us lip and told me to stop swimming there and find something else to do like walk on the beach as a family and collect seashells.
Here it comes, "Collect seashells? SERIOUSLY? I'll do that allright, but how can I deny my kids the opp to swim in the friggin pool?!"
Janko's Mom: "Well, I'm gonna call your sisters and see if they ever had these problems when they were down there. In the meantime, if those two folks come back, just smile and try to make small talk. They are probably irritated by your aggressiveness. You know down south they are much sweeter and slower than we are."
So my Mom calls back a day later and tells me that no one else in the family was busted at the pool. So clearly we are out of control and need to think about our actions more carefully.
Janko to Mom: "So no one has ever been scolded at the pool?! Come on. That has to be complete bullshit."
Janko's Mom: "No. The only thing I was told was there is a person down there that your brother in law saw on the golf course that looked like a transvestite. And he wasn't sure if he was transitioning into a man or woman. The transition must be early on. So if you see someone down there that matches this description, be kind to him or her. You know that would be just awful going through that. I saw an episode on Oprah once about that and it really tore me up."
Janko: "Yeah, I saw that guy. We call him Red Headed Woody. He's all messed up."
Janko's Mom: "Listen. You're down there to enjoy yourself. Stop worrying abut all of this other nonsense."
Janko: "Right. I'm just gonna go lay by the pool in my jeans and sweatshirt."
Two weeks after we get home, my Mom calls.
Janko's Mom: "Well, you must have really created a stir down in FL cause your father and I just got a letter from the President of the Board about an EMERGENCY BOARD MEETING RE: POOL RULES and REGULATIONS. I sure hope you didn't do anything to embarass me or your grandparent's good name.
I am now saving my pennies for a trip to Cedar Point.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
He's coming over on Friday so you need to stay home all day and wait for him
These could be the words that every stay at home mom dreads. Or at least I do. Being homebound all day is really a recipe for disaster for me. I need to leave the house and do at least one errand. I must mix with the outside world. If I don't, it's like this awful depression sinks in and I get crabby and down and just flat-out pissed off.
So when Toad told me I have to make myself homebound this Friday, I was hot.
For the last 3 + years, Toad has wanted to put in lights throughout the landscaping. I think his dream visual is to have the house lit up like a menora on the 10th day of Hanukah. And I'm okay with this. In fact, it's probably a good idea considering all of the recent break-ins in the hood. But the issue is the fact that we don't have enough electrical outlets.
So, here comes Toad....
There is a man at Toad's work (let's call him Gregg) that feels Toad has really shown him the ropes when it comes to hustling wine. When he's got a question or needs help, apparently Toad drops everything and takes care of him. As a result, Gregg wants to pay it forward. Well, more like pay it even. He wants to do a lil somethin somethin for Toad.
Ding Ding Ding!
So Toad tells me tonight that Gregg's gonna come over this Friday and put in a few electrical boxes outside.
Here's the conversation:
T: So, I need you to stay home this Friday and wait for Gregg to come over.
J: Who is Gregg and what's he going to be doing at our house?
T: This is the guy that I work with that is super cool. He's gonna put in those electrical boxes I've been meaning to have done since we moved in.
J: Umm. How much is this gonna set us back? Because right now electrical boxes aren't real high on the priority list. But a car top carrier is for our trip in 3 weeks.
T: RELAX. He's doing it for free. He wants to do me a favor since I always help him.
J: Does this Gregg know what he's doing?
T: Yeah, yeah, of course, Stacey. He used to do electrical work all the time. But with the economy drying up, he scrapped the electrical business and moved into wine. He's a good guy. Man, he's super cool.
J: Yeah, you told me he was cool, but this is serious. Jacking with electrical could be fatal.
T: Oh no, he won't hurt himself. Listen, last year, Brian at work, well his entire bathroom caved in. It's a long story but the roof collapsed and his toilet fell through to the basement. Gregg rewired everything. The bathroom is awesome now. And Brian hasn't had any problems. Well, he's divorced now but it had nothin to do with the bathroom.
J: Well good for Brian, but I'm still a little concerned about this.
T: You know, to be safe, why don't you call Vince at State Farm tomorrow and make sure we're all paid up on our homeowners insurance.
J: Are you fucking kidding me?! You know I am tired of these "jack of all trades" guys doing work here. Last year you sent the guy that owns the fish dept at Nino's to blow out the sprinklers. I found him in the basement playing pool by himself. We need to start hiring professionals. Not these hackballs. And I was thinking about taking off on Friday and hitting Birch Run.
T: Fine, I'll just get done early on Friday and help him myself. We get along real good, so we'll be fine.
J: Thinking in her head ("Great, this is the same man that can't hang a picture or assemble a crib, but he's gonna be Gregg's chewbacca and light up the yard. Shit. We're doomed.")
So when Toad told me I have to make myself homebound this Friday, I was hot.
For the last 3 + years, Toad has wanted to put in lights throughout the landscaping. I think his dream visual is to have the house lit up like a menora on the 10th day of Hanukah. And I'm okay with this. In fact, it's probably a good idea considering all of the recent break-ins in the hood. But the issue is the fact that we don't have enough electrical outlets.
So, here comes Toad....
There is a man at Toad's work (let's call him Gregg) that feels Toad has really shown him the ropes when it comes to hustling wine. When he's got a question or needs help, apparently Toad drops everything and takes care of him. As a result, Gregg wants to pay it forward. Well, more like pay it even. He wants to do a lil somethin somethin for Toad.
Ding Ding Ding!
So Toad tells me tonight that Gregg's gonna come over this Friday and put in a few electrical boxes outside.
Here's the conversation:
T: So, I need you to stay home this Friday and wait for Gregg to come over.
J: Who is Gregg and what's he going to be doing at our house?
T: This is the guy that I work with that is super cool. He's gonna put in those electrical boxes I've been meaning to have done since we moved in.
J: Umm. How much is this gonna set us back? Because right now electrical boxes aren't real high on the priority list. But a car top carrier is for our trip in 3 weeks.
T: RELAX. He's doing it for free. He wants to do me a favor since I always help him.
J: Does this Gregg know what he's doing?
T: Yeah, yeah, of course, Stacey. He used to do electrical work all the time. But with the economy drying up, he scrapped the electrical business and moved into wine. He's a good guy. Man, he's super cool.
J: Yeah, you told me he was cool, but this is serious. Jacking with electrical could be fatal.
T: Oh no, he won't hurt himself. Listen, last year, Brian at work, well his entire bathroom caved in. It's a long story but the roof collapsed and his toilet fell through to the basement. Gregg rewired everything. The bathroom is awesome now. And Brian hasn't had any problems. Well, he's divorced now but it had nothin to do with the bathroom.
J: Well good for Brian, but I'm still a little concerned about this.
T: You know, to be safe, why don't you call Vince at State Farm tomorrow and make sure we're all paid up on our homeowners insurance.
J: Are you fucking kidding me?! You know I am tired of these "jack of all trades" guys doing work here. Last year you sent the guy that owns the fish dept at Nino's to blow out the sprinklers. I found him in the basement playing pool by himself. We need to start hiring professionals. Not these hackballs. And I was thinking about taking off on Friday and hitting Birch Run.
T: Fine, I'll just get done early on Friday and help him myself. We get along real good, so we'll be fine.
J: Thinking in her head ("Great, this is the same man that can't hang a picture or assemble a crib, but he's gonna be Gregg's chewbacca and light up the yard. Shit. We're doomed.")
Monday, March 23, 2009
Some people are just BORN Idiots
Ahhhhhh, taking your kids to a restaurant and trying to eat a good meal. If you have any children under the age of 5 you know the experience will be anything but enjoyable for you - if you're the mama. Somebody's gonna be bitching the nuggets are too hot, another's gonna be pulling a Houdini trying to get out of the germ ridden high chair. And you know the waitress isn't gonna go the extra mile. She sees you and your hot mess brood and she thinks, "shitty tip and nasty ass clean up after the dirts leave."
I really believe one of the best days of my life will be when I can go to a restaurant with my family (nothing fancy either) and really savor every bite of my quesadilla. Nobody will need anything. They'll cut their own food. Leap up and clean the chocolate milk they managed to dump on the table. The waitress will set a Diet Coke caraffe next to my entree. The conversation will be interesting. None of this, "what is a racist, mom?" or "why do women feed their babies with bottles and their bodies?"
I was on my way out of the grocery store, cruising along out of the parking lot, when I see a 7 or 8 year old sitting on the curb outside of Boston Market. The scene resembled what people do with their dogs outside of DQ. You know, how they lasso them to a big piece of cement and then go in to inhale a blizzard or peanut buster parfait.
And the cement post this kid was sittin up against was super close to traffic. In fact, if he kept his knees straight and extended his legs, a car would run them over.
This situation really struck me. He wasn't selling any M & Ms, either. The kid even looked sad. So, I rolled down my window and asked the boy, "Honey are you okay?"
Young boy: barely looked up and said softly, "yeah, i'm just sitting here."
Janko: "Honey, are you by yourself? Do you need help?"
Young boy's big bad ass brother: (appears out of the corner) "No, lady, we're fine."
Janko: "Okay, but where is your mom?" (at this point, Andrew has the window down and is asking them where they go to school, what grade they're in, and if they are on Safety Patrol.
Boys: "Our Mom is inside finishing up her chicken pot pie. She told us it was a nice day outside and we should sit out here and wait for her."
Janko: (thinking, you have GOT to be kidding me. some lazy ass is suckin down her meal and she doesn't want her kids around her. talk about a dipshit.) "Okay, well be super careful cause the traffic is kind of crazy around here."
Boys: (give no reply except to get closer to the back of the car where Andrew's window is still down and say, "Dude, that's a sweet shirt you're wearing. Did you see the last episode of the Clone Wars last Friday?"
Now it's a full blown conversation with Andrew and lawrd knows he thinks he hit the jackpot. I start to slowly pull away and Andrew is still carrying on.
As we're driving home Andrew says, "See, Mom, first you thought it was a bad decision for their Mom to have them sit outside. I know you were thinking in your head, 'POOR CHOICE.'" I could just tell. But really, it wasn't a bad idea cause they made a new friend with me. If they were inside, we never woulda met. Pretty incredible how things work out sometimes, eh Mom? I bet you could call that a miracle even."
I really believe one of the best days of my life will be when I can go to a restaurant with my family (nothing fancy either) and really savor every bite of my quesadilla. Nobody will need anything. They'll cut their own food. Leap up and clean the chocolate milk they managed to dump on the table. The waitress will set a Diet Coke caraffe next to my entree. The conversation will be interesting. None of this, "what is a racist, mom?" or "why do women feed their babies with bottles and their bodies?"
I was on my way out of the grocery store, cruising along out of the parking lot, when I see a 7 or 8 year old sitting on the curb outside of Boston Market. The scene resembled what people do with their dogs outside of DQ. You know, how they lasso them to a big piece of cement and then go in to inhale a blizzard or peanut buster parfait.
And the cement post this kid was sittin up against was super close to traffic. In fact, if he kept his knees straight and extended his legs, a car would run them over.
This situation really struck me. He wasn't selling any M & Ms, either. The kid even looked sad. So, I rolled down my window and asked the boy, "Honey are you okay?"
Young boy: barely looked up and said softly, "yeah, i'm just sitting here."
Janko: "Honey, are you by yourself? Do you need help?"
Young boy's big bad ass brother: (appears out of the corner) "No, lady, we're fine."
Janko: "Okay, but where is your mom?" (at this point, Andrew has the window down and is asking them where they go to school, what grade they're in, and if they are on Safety Patrol.
Boys: "Our Mom is inside finishing up her chicken pot pie. She told us it was a nice day outside and we should sit out here and wait for her."
Janko: (thinking, you have GOT to be kidding me. some lazy ass is suckin down her meal and she doesn't want her kids around her. talk about a dipshit.) "Okay, well be super careful cause the traffic is kind of crazy around here."
Boys: (give no reply except to get closer to the back of the car where Andrew's window is still down and say, "Dude, that's a sweet shirt you're wearing. Did you see the last episode of the Clone Wars last Friday?"
Now it's a full blown conversation with Andrew and lawrd knows he thinks he hit the jackpot. I start to slowly pull away and Andrew is still carrying on.
As we're driving home Andrew says, "See, Mom, first you thought it was a bad decision for their Mom to have them sit outside. I know you were thinking in your head, 'POOR CHOICE.'" I could just tell. But really, it wasn't a bad idea cause they made a new friend with me. If they were inside, we never woulda met. Pretty incredible how things work out sometimes, eh Mom? I bet you could call that a miracle even."
Friday, February 20, 2009
Euro Traffic Circles are Bullshit
Here I am - off to the Bouncin Party Zone during midwinter break. We're gonna pay a measly $7 and Andrew will be able to run wild and sweat a good 3 pounds off his frame in just 2 hours.
The tricky part is getting there. It shouldn't be though. I can picture the place in my head. But thanks to some jackass road engineer in Sterling Heights, it could be hours before we arrive. And to think, we're just a 1/2 mile away.
Like I just mentioned, some complete moron/dumbass thought it would be a bright idea to install one of those european style traffic circles at Van Dyke just north of 18 Mile.
All's going well in the car. I am humming along, following my OnStar directions when I see the bullshit up ahead. Quickly I try to figure out what lane I'm supposed to be in. I have three choices. Shit. Might as well go with the middle one then I can scoot over either way at the last minute. And you need to determine what lane you want at least a 1/2 mile ahead of the actual circle (another point that these circles are bullshit.)
Being that I have never done this before, I'm riding on a prayer, people. I've got Billy Joe Bob behind me kissing my bumper. He's in a big hurry to get somewhere like the 7-11 up ahead. And I'm cockblocked on both sides by some more greggs. If I need to change lanes, it ain't gonna happen.
I'm getting closer to the circle and OnStar starts spitting out orders. Make a right in 3 feet, bear left in 6 feet, take a right at the second yield. Now Andrew's getting involved. "Mom, what's happening here? Do you know what to do? Why is the man's voice on the radio going crazy? Does he know where we should turn? Are we gonna make it to the Bouncin Party Zone? Is it 2 o clock cause that's when it opens."
Aww man, now I'm in the thick of it and people are entering and exiting all over the place. Horns are blaring, fingers are flipping and I am sweating cajones. Andrew's nervous and tells me to just drive faster. "DRIVE FASTER, MOM. They won't be able to catch you, Mom. Just do it."
Shit, my kid thinks we're in a dragrace. Oh, and don't forget about OnStar. They disconnected me as soon as I entered the circle. Some help they are. I must have gone around the circle a 1/2 dozen times. Changing lanes, honking, breathing heavy.
Finally I find a random freeway and just jump on it. Now we're headed to Imlay City. Much better. I need to find me some countryside.
I call OnStar back and they tell me that their system could not handle the frequent turns and just hung up. If I want directions to that place they won't do it. I am on my own. All they can tell me is "Get back on Van Dyke, Mr. Jan-a-cow-a-saki."
We finally join the circle once again and this time we run around just 3 times. Graciously, an older man lets me in. I think he knew I was in trouble cause I decided it was best to just throw the hazards on a mile out.
We made it to the Bouncin Party Zone at 2:07. Doors had just opened and the chaos was waiting for us.
We go in to pay and the lady has the balls to tell me, "Now, we need you to stay with your child here. This isn't a babysitting service. In fact, if you pay $7 you can jump, too. But I need to tell you two that we just had a hole in the 80 ft slide. I patched it shortly before you came in today but if you notice it's starting to deflate while you're on it, just jump off the side. The carpeting will break your fall."
So I have to come back at that one. "I'd be happy to take an 80 ft nose dive onto the carpet, as long as there's padding of course, considering the traffic circle I just rounded 18 times to get here."
Andrew has already ripped off his boots, jacket, hat, gloves, glasses and takes off.
I sit down on the picnic bench and listen to "No more I love yous" on the ghettoblaster in the corner.
Manager walks back in and tells me I can change the channel if I REALLY want to, but at least wait til that song is over. It reminds her of her ex and how they loved eachother in the beginning then when she found out about his girlfriend the lovin stopped cold turkey.
Shit. When is this midwinter break over? I'd like to pop the guy who came up with that a nice knuckle sandwich.
The tricky part is getting there. It shouldn't be though. I can picture the place in my head. But thanks to some jackass road engineer in Sterling Heights, it could be hours before we arrive. And to think, we're just a 1/2 mile away.
Like I just mentioned, some complete moron/dumbass thought it would be a bright idea to install one of those european style traffic circles at Van Dyke just north of 18 Mile.
All's going well in the car. I am humming along, following my OnStar directions when I see the bullshit up ahead. Quickly I try to figure out what lane I'm supposed to be in. I have three choices. Shit. Might as well go with the middle one then I can scoot over either way at the last minute. And you need to determine what lane you want at least a 1/2 mile ahead of the actual circle (another point that these circles are bullshit.)
Being that I have never done this before, I'm riding on a prayer, people. I've got Billy Joe Bob behind me kissing my bumper. He's in a big hurry to get somewhere like the 7-11 up ahead. And I'm cockblocked on both sides by some more greggs. If I need to change lanes, it ain't gonna happen.
I'm getting closer to the circle and OnStar starts spitting out orders. Make a right in 3 feet, bear left in 6 feet, take a right at the second yield. Now Andrew's getting involved. "Mom, what's happening here? Do you know what to do? Why is the man's voice on the radio going crazy? Does he know where we should turn? Are we gonna make it to the Bouncin Party Zone? Is it 2 o clock cause that's when it opens."
Aww man, now I'm in the thick of it and people are entering and exiting all over the place. Horns are blaring, fingers are flipping and I am sweating cajones. Andrew's nervous and tells me to just drive faster. "DRIVE FASTER, MOM. They won't be able to catch you, Mom. Just do it."
Shit, my kid thinks we're in a dragrace. Oh, and don't forget about OnStar. They disconnected me as soon as I entered the circle. Some help they are. I must have gone around the circle a 1/2 dozen times. Changing lanes, honking, breathing heavy.
Finally I find a random freeway and just jump on it. Now we're headed to Imlay City. Much better. I need to find me some countryside.
I call OnStar back and they tell me that their system could not handle the frequent turns and just hung up. If I want directions to that place they won't do it. I am on my own. All they can tell me is "Get back on Van Dyke, Mr. Jan-a-cow-a-saki."
We finally join the circle once again and this time we run around just 3 times. Graciously, an older man lets me in. I think he knew I was in trouble cause I decided it was best to just throw the hazards on a mile out.
We made it to the Bouncin Party Zone at 2:07. Doors had just opened and the chaos was waiting for us.
We go in to pay and the lady has the balls to tell me, "Now, we need you to stay with your child here. This isn't a babysitting service. In fact, if you pay $7 you can jump, too. But I need to tell you two that we just had a hole in the 80 ft slide. I patched it shortly before you came in today but if you notice it's starting to deflate while you're on it, just jump off the side. The carpeting will break your fall."
So I have to come back at that one. "I'd be happy to take an 80 ft nose dive onto the carpet, as long as there's padding of course, considering the traffic circle I just rounded 18 times to get here."
Andrew has already ripped off his boots, jacket, hat, gloves, glasses and takes off.
I sit down on the picnic bench and listen to "No more I love yous" on the ghettoblaster in the corner.
Manager walks back in and tells me I can change the channel if I REALLY want to, but at least wait til that song is over. It reminds her of her ex and how they loved eachother in the beginning then when she found out about his girlfriend the lovin stopped cold turkey.
Shit. When is this midwinter break over? I'd like to pop the guy who came up with that a nice knuckle sandwich.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Workin Out Ain't That Bad
It really isn't. Especially if you do it once a week. And if you go during the day, say mid morning, you can even meet some real nice people that take working out not so seriously. I find those people are usually there for the social outlet. They'll walk the treadmill at a steady 2.5 mph. Getting skinny isn't their bag. For them it's more about commenting on the tv shows plastered all over the walls and chatting up their side businesses like Mary Kay. You know it's not often a 65 year old woman can get her picture hung in the corporate offices for selling the most blush nationwide. And they chat up their kids. Talk about how smart and successful they are and it's no wonder considering all of the effort and hard work they put into raising 'em. Parents now adays are lazy and selfish. Only worrying about themselves and the fancy cars they drive. I've learned this over the last few months. And I realize I fit in with this crowd much more than the evening crowd. I also noticed the average age for the mid morning group is 60. Age is only in your mind, people.
The evening crowd is hard core. When they hit the elliptical, their feet never touch the floorboards. They're literally flying through the air. And carrying on a full conversation with the gym staff in the process.
During the morning, the gym staff sits back. There's no reason to mingle with that crew. They don't take fitness seriously so what's the point wasting your time talking to them. The trainers smile a little bit but they also don't "work the crowd." These folks aren't their bread and butter. Their gas bills won't get paid by these dirts.
Last week was an interesting one. I sandwiched myself between a man slugging a coke while walking on the treadmill and a woman bragging about the most wonderful dinner she had the night before loaded with carbs and a heavy creamy sauce. I knew if I threw my 1980s headphones on, I would be safe.
Started out real strong. Pushing myself to the limit. Beet red in the face and barely breathing. I could tell I was really burning the calories. The coke on the treadmill next to me looked good, but I had to realize my cold Dasani was much better. Toad's "Girls, Girls, Girls" started rolling on the ipod and I knew I was gonna break a personal record today. This was my day. The day the Lawrd made. I needed to keep up the pace and rock it out. Next song, "Smokin in the Boys Room" pushed me even farther. The old folks were staring in amazement (and sheer horror) and I knew I was gonna show those trainers I COULD pay their gals bills and they need to keep an eye on me. Song after song and I was working it. Then I got the dreaded tap on the shoulder. Shit. Did I look like I was going to have a heart attack? Was my singing too loud? Nope. It was the day care center. My child had shit her pants. Dammit. Time to call it a day.
Of course the old folks around me were smiling away. Why that would be humorous to them is beyond me.
So I jump off and as I am wiping down the machine I get a little snicker from Blush of the Year Saleswoman: "You know, dear, it's probably a good thing that your child soiled her pants. You are very very red and look as though you could lapse into cardiac arrest. I do just what the doctor tells me - slow and easy. No sense in overdoing it. What good are you to your family if you're dead from an over extended work out."
Janko: "Yeah right. Why kill myself, literally, to be healthy for my family? Might as well be overweight and relish in it. Fat people can be happy people, too."
I haven't been back there since.
The evening crowd is hard core. When they hit the elliptical, their feet never touch the floorboards. They're literally flying through the air. And carrying on a full conversation with the gym staff in the process.
During the morning, the gym staff sits back. There's no reason to mingle with that crew. They don't take fitness seriously so what's the point wasting your time talking to them. The trainers smile a little bit but they also don't "work the crowd." These folks aren't their bread and butter. Their gas bills won't get paid by these dirts.
Last week was an interesting one. I sandwiched myself between a man slugging a coke while walking on the treadmill and a woman bragging about the most wonderful dinner she had the night before loaded with carbs and a heavy creamy sauce. I knew if I threw my 1980s headphones on, I would be safe.
Started out real strong. Pushing myself to the limit. Beet red in the face and barely breathing. I could tell I was really burning the calories. The coke on the treadmill next to me looked good, but I had to realize my cold Dasani was much better. Toad's "Girls, Girls, Girls" started rolling on the ipod and I knew I was gonna break a personal record today. This was my day. The day the Lawrd made. I needed to keep up the pace and rock it out. Next song, "Smokin in the Boys Room" pushed me even farther. The old folks were staring in amazement (and sheer horror) and I knew I was gonna show those trainers I COULD pay their gals bills and they need to keep an eye on me. Song after song and I was working it. Then I got the dreaded tap on the shoulder. Shit. Did I look like I was going to have a heart attack? Was my singing too loud? Nope. It was the day care center. My child had shit her pants. Dammit. Time to call it a day.
Of course the old folks around me were smiling away. Why that would be humorous to them is beyond me.
So I jump off and as I am wiping down the machine I get a little snicker from Blush of the Year Saleswoman: "You know, dear, it's probably a good thing that your child soiled her pants. You are very very red and look as though you could lapse into cardiac arrest. I do just what the doctor tells me - slow and easy. No sense in overdoing it. What good are you to your family if you're dead from an over extended work out."
Janko: "Yeah right. Why kill myself, literally, to be healthy for my family? Might as well be overweight and relish in it. Fat people can be happy people, too."
I haven't been back there since.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
They don't GET IT in the South
So being in SC for a week really shed some light on what I thought and really have known all along. Detroit sucks balls. I actually read this long article that Mitch Albom wrote about Detroit as I was making my way in the air to honkeytonkland.
Mitch is chatting up the fact that, in Detroit, we all help eachother out, do the right thing, support the city, etc. I think this could not be further/farther from the truth. And I realize this is espcially true after being in the south for just 5 measly(sp?) days.
No one gives a rat's ass around here. I was at Meijer's today and a man rammed his cart into my heel. I turned around to see what kind of idiot would do such a thing and the guy mumbles, "Move." MOVE?! I am in a check out lane, jackass. When the chick in front of me checks out, I'll move myself. In the meantime, read about Oprah's lingering cocaine addiction in the Enquirer.
The last round of 9 inches of snow and I go over to a neighbor's house to help her shovel. She's all by herself w/o a snow blower. I can't even drag our snowblower over there so I take our bent in half snow shovel and try to make it work. You'd think she would thank me. Instead, she tells me how her husband and 3 college kids are inside laying on the couch watching TV. "They just ate lunch and they get real bad stomachaches if they launch into moderate exercise right after eating." Sheezuz.
In SC, I am at Wal Mart and a woman grabs me by the arm, and says, "Well, bless your heart, sweetie. You're here shopping without a warm winter coat on. You know you should pick one up while you're here. Weatherman says it's gonna hit 45 tomorrow."
And the employees actually help you. If you need something like WD40 they don't pull the famous Detroit line, "I have no idea what you're talking about. You're probably gonna have to go somewhere else for that."
I summed it up when I hit the check out and the cashier asked to see my license to verify I wasn't committing fraud with someone else's credit card (at home I have never been asked to show ID).
Cashier: "Oh, so you're from MI, huh? What's it like there?"
Janko: "It's actually quite depressing. The city is a burned out mess. Busted out houses, prostitues selling crack on nearly every corner and most people carry a gun. You have to. It's for your own good, you know."
Cashier: "Geez, my mama always told me it was nasty in the D. What do y'all do for fun?"
Janko: "Well, drag racing is really big. So is car jacking. And you can ice skate at a little rink downtown but they play shitty music and the skate rental is horrible. Laces are all torn and the skates themselves smell. REAL BAD."
Cashier: "Well, gurl you need to get yourself down here. We don't have those problems. In fact, we're getting a new Olive Garden soon and rumor has it they're gonna stay open til 11 on Saturday nights.
Janko: "I wish I could get myself down here but I wouldn't be able unload my house. Basically, I'm pinched."
Cashier: "Don't you give up now, sweetie. I will say an extra prayer for you tonight. Look at it this way, you do have something to be proud of: Aretha Franklin and Kid Rock."
Janko: "Right. That makes everything worth it."
As for Mitch, I think he's a great writer but his last commentary really missed the mark. Maybe he needs to spend some time OUT of Detroit and see what it's all about.
It's even been some time since Aretha was getting respect. Now you see her on the news and they all comment on her diet and how she was caught walking out of a BK with 3 whoppers in hand. Shit ain't right, people.
Mitch is chatting up the fact that, in Detroit, we all help eachother out, do the right thing, support the city, etc. I think this could not be further/farther from the truth. And I realize this is espcially true after being in the south for just 5 measly(sp?) days.
No one gives a rat's ass around here. I was at Meijer's today and a man rammed his cart into my heel. I turned around to see what kind of idiot would do such a thing and the guy mumbles, "Move." MOVE?! I am in a check out lane, jackass. When the chick in front of me checks out, I'll move myself. In the meantime, read about Oprah's lingering cocaine addiction in the Enquirer.
The last round of 9 inches of snow and I go over to a neighbor's house to help her shovel. She's all by herself w/o a snow blower. I can't even drag our snowblower over there so I take our bent in half snow shovel and try to make it work. You'd think she would thank me. Instead, she tells me how her husband and 3 college kids are inside laying on the couch watching TV. "They just ate lunch and they get real bad stomachaches if they launch into moderate exercise right after eating." Sheezuz.
In SC, I am at Wal Mart and a woman grabs me by the arm, and says, "Well, bless your heart, sweetie. You're here shopping without a warm winter coat on. You know you should pick one up while you're here. Weatherman says it's gonna hit 45 tomorrow."
And the employees actually help you. If you need something like WD40 they don't pull the famous Detroit line, "I have no idea what you're talking about. You're probably gonna have to go somewhere else for that."
I summed it up when I hit the check out and the cashier asked to see my license to verify I wasn't committing fraud with someone else's credit card (at home I have never been asked to show ID).
Cashier: "Oh, so you're from MI, huh? What's it like there?"
Janko: "It's actually quite depressing. The city is a burned out mess. Busted out houses, prostitues selling crack on nearly every corner and most people carry a gun. You have to. It's for your own good, you know."
Cashier: "Geez, my mama always told me it was nasty in the D. What do y'all do for fun?"
Janko: "Well, drag racing is really big. So is car jacking. And you can ice skate at a little rink downtown but they play shitty music and the skate rental is horrible. Laces are all torn and the skates themselves smell. REAL BAD."
Cashier: "Well, gurl you need to get yourself down here. We don't have those problems. In fact, we're getting a new Olive Garden soon and rumor has it they're gonna stay open til 11 on Saturday nights.
Janko: "I wish I could get myself down here but I wouldn't be able unload my house. Basically, I'm pinched."
Cashier: "Don't you give up now, sweetie. I will say an extra prayer for you tonight. Look at it this way, you do have something to be proud of: Aretha Franklin and Kid Rock."
Janko: "Right. That makes everything worth it."
As for Mitch, I think he's a great writer but his last commentary really missed the mark. Maybe he needs to spend some time OUT of Detroit and see what it's all about.
It's even been some time since Aretha was getting respect. Now you see her on the news and they all comment on her diet and how she was caught walking out of a BK with 3 whoppers in hand. Shit ain't right, people.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
We need to do my Star Poster, Mom
So in Kindergarten it's apparently important to build a child's self esteem. Stroke the ego a few hundred times. That way when they get shot down in class by another student they won't feel like a jackass. They can walk away still feeling good about themselves. It's also important to give kindergarteners plenty of opportunities to talk about themselves. Brag really. They need to feel like "they're kind of a big deal around here."
Here's where the Star Student of the Week comes in. Each kid has a week where they're the diggity bomb. When the teacher does Circle Time, they get to plant their ass next to the teacher on a special chair when everyone else is sitting on a dirty carpet.
They get to pick up the milk in the cafeteria and drag it back up to the room (personally, I think this is bullshit and never would have wanted to do it, but for some reason, the kids feel like the top cock doing it).
But most important about Star Student of the Week is THE POSTER. We're supposed to fill out this poster that talks about the kid and his/her family. You need to list your favorite color, describe what you look like, list your favorite color, etc. The most interesting statements are:
-->My favorite place to go
-->If I had one wish it would be
-->When I grow up I WILL be
Andrew's week isn't until March so we've seen a lot of posters over the last few months. And all of them are just adorable. The kids always talk about their classy vacations, that they wish for all sick children to be cured and their occupation is typically a teacher, nurse or fireman.
Andrew's been busting my nut to get his poster done. So we started talking about it tonight. JUST talking. Not actually filling it in cause the answers change by the week. And based on the stuff he told me tonight, I am praying it will change yet again.
Favorite place to go:
My suggestions - SC to visit my sister and brother in law, Lost Lake Woods (in laws house up north), Disneyworld, Cedar Point
Andrew's answer - "Oh this is an easy one! Aunt Juju and Uncle David's house cause I can stay up late, take their dog on walks and tell him what to do, transform their living room into a giant fort, stay up late, eat at the Pancake House and do just about anything I want."
One wish:
Andrew's answer - "Get a horse. Preferably a thoroughbred and keep it in the backyard so I could ride it through the neighborhood whenever I want."
Occupation:
Now let's be real here, people. We all say we want our kids to do whatever makes them happy, right? Doesn't matter how much money they make or how prestigious the job is. But this response....
Andrew's answer - "I want to work at a Car Wash."
Janko - "Oh, you want to own one and collect all the money?"
Andrew - "No, of course not, that's too much responsibility. I don't want to be anyone's boss either. Boss's are usually really mean and make you work super hard and have you do things that don't always make sense. I want to just work there, Mom. I want to push the buttons - Regular, Super or Deluxe. And I also want to take shifts where I dry the car off with a towel."
Janko - "Geez, that's really hard work, Andrew. I mean it's so cold and you're standing in the freezing temperatures wiping off cars."
Andrew - "That's why they have the tip bukcet, Mom."
Janko - "But what about being a nurse. You told me you wanted to help sick people like your aunt. Or make parts for cars like your uncle. That logistics management degree is really interesting. Or be a physical therapist like your other uncle and help people build up their muscles."
Andrew - "Seriously, Mom. I want to work at a Car Wash. And the one right by our house. That way I can just live with you and Dad forever. Even after I get married and have 4 kids, we will all live with you guys. Two families in one house. We'll have a good time, Mom."
So someone tell me why I am sacrificing every month to stuff money in a 529 for this kid?
Here's where the Star Student of the Week comes in. Each kid has a week where they're the diggity bomb. When the teacher does Circle Time, they get to plant their ass next to the teacher on a special chair when everyone else is sitting on a dirty carpet.
They get to pick up the milk in the cafeteria and drag it back up to the room (personally, I think this is bullshit and never would have wanted to do it, but for some reason, the kids feel like the top cock doing it).
But most important about Star Student of the Week is THE POSTER. We're supposed to fill out this poster that talks about the kid and his/her family. You need to list your favorite color, describe what you look like, list your favorite color, etc. The most interesting statements are:
-->My favorite place to go
-->If I had one wish it would be
-->When I grow up I WILL be
Andrew's week isn't until March so we've seen a lot of posters over the last few months. And all of them are just adorable. The kids always talk about their classy vacations, that they wish for all sick children to be cured and their occupation is typically a teacher, nurse or fireman.
Andrew's been busting my nut to get his poster done. So we started talking about it tonight. JUST talking. Not actually filling it in cause the answers change by the week. And based on the stuff he told me tonight, I am praying it will change yet again.
Favorite place to go:
My suggestions - SC to visit my sister and brother in law, Lost Lake Woods (in laws house up north), Disneyworld, Cedar Point
Andrew's answer - "Oh this is an easy one! Aunt Juju and Uncle David's house cause I can stay up late, take their dog on walks and tell him what to do, transform their living room into a giant fort, stay up late, eat at the Pancake House and do just about anything I want."
One wish:
Andrew's answer - "Get a horse. Preferably a thoroughbred and keep it in the backyard so I could ride it through the neighborhood whenever I want."
Occupation:
Now let's be real here, people. We all say we want our kids to do whatever makes them happy, right? Doesn't matter how much money they make or how prestigious the job is. But this response....
Andrew's answer - "I want to work at a Car Wash."
Janko - "Oh, you want to own one and collect all the money?"
Andrew - "No, of course not, that's too much responsibility. I don't want to be anyone's boss either. Boss's are usually really mean and make you work super hard and have you do things that don't always make sense. I want to just work there, Mom. I want to push the buttons - Regular, Super or Deluxe. And I also want to take shifts where I dry the car off with a towel."
Janko - "Geez, that's really hard work, Andrew. I mean it's so cold and you're standing in the freezing temperatures wiping off cars."
Andrew - "That's why they have the tip bukcet, Mom."
Janko - "But what about being a nurse. You told me you wanted to help sick people like your aunt. Or make parts for cars like your uncle. That logistics management degree is really interesting. Or be a physical therapist like your other uncle and help people build up their muscles."
Andrew - "Seriously, Mom. I want to work at a Car Wash. And the one right by our house. That way I can just live with you and Dad forever. Even after I get married and have 4 kids, we will all live with you guys. Two families in one house. We'll have a good time, Mom."
So someone tell me why I am sacrificing every month to stuff money in a 529 for this kid?
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Birds of Prey - My Big Night Out
Every year it happens. It's a sad tradition that we can't avoid. On Oct 1st, Todd's boss tells the sales force, "kiss your wife and kids and tell them you'll see 'em in 90 days."
The 4th quarter is Todd's busiest time of the year. Those who never drink an ounce Jan - Sept lose control and blow it out the last few months of the year. This is a good thing. As Andrew says, "the more wine bottles they drink, Dad, the more money you make and the more cool stuff you could buy for me - if I have good behavior of course."
But it's rough on the homefront, people. I'm managing the weasels for 16 hours a day, 6-7 days a week. When the New Year finally blows in, I pack it in by 9. I'll admit that. I'm not ashamed. I dunk my crab legs in the warm drawn butter then hit the sack. We all do. It's lights out by 9:30 at the Janko crib.
So to prepare for this year's challenge, I did my best to research events in the area I could take the kids to that would really break up the day. More or less, help me make it through.
I noticed a free class at the library, "On Spirit Filled Wings: Birds of Prey Rehabilitated." It almost sounded like a religious experience so I signed Andrew and I up.
Toad watched baby weasel and Andrew and I cruised on up. I tried to explain to Andrew what the program would be about, but they didn't give me much to go on so I was pretty vague.
As we walked into the library, a librarian told us if we were here for the bird show we had to be very quiet because of the animals. ANIMALS? Wait. There are live aninals in this presentation?! Shit. I'm doomed. At least have the Wildlife Rehabber lady bring em out in the beginning of the show or it's gonna be a long ass night.
We took a seat up front (always do) and the Earthy looking woman started her powerpoint presentaton. The program did say it was for 5 year olds and up, but there's no way Andrew's gonna sit still when there are two huge cages with old nasty looking beach towels draped over them. He wants at those animals. He will not wait.
So she starts the presentation by telling us obvious shit:
-->keep your animals on a leash at all times
-->don't try to rescue an animal that's laying on the side of the road gasping for air b/c it will most likely attack you
-->don't mess with bird nests
-->don't try to make an animal a pet that clearly belongs in the wild
Yeah yeah. Get all that. But then she starts ripping through these slides of animals she has rehabbed over the years. The stories were awful, but the pictures were downright disgusting. Kind of reminded me of that film that show you in Driver's Ed where a car is mangled because the driver neglected to put on his turn signal before changing lanes. Here are some examples:
"This is a barn owl that got caught in a barbed wire fence up near Traverse City. That's why it's eyeball is hanging out of the eyesocket and it's left wing is missing."
"And someone in Sterling Heights was out hunting and thought this hawk was a turkey. The gunshot blew his anus off."
"Perhaps the saddest situation is this poor Snow White Owl. It was struck by a car and dragged 20 feet. It lived for a good 3 days. We tried to sew it's body back together but his leg was real busted and a busted leg is ALWAYS fatal. Kids, I want you to remember that. An animal can be missing an eye or feathers but if his leg is screwed up, he might as well be dead."
Surprisingly, the kids didn't say a word. Andrew looked at me a few times and made weird faces but we hung in there.
And she really teased the kids. She'd talk a big game about the animals she had in the cages and kept saying, "As soon as my Asst Dave gets here, we'll bring them out so you can meet them."
After an hour of this nonsense, Dave walks in. She smiles a lot at him and decides to crack open a cage. She brings the animals out (w/o Dave's help BTW) and chats up the cages she has in her backyard and all of the crazy shit she does for them. Sings for them. Plays the guitar, reads books, etc.
The hawk and owl entertain us for a while and then it's question and answer time.
Gotta love these:
"Why do you do this? I mean what is your REAL job? What kind of adult has time to play a guitar for a hawk that's just about dead?"
"Where did you buy the wood for your cages?"
"If you unhooked that hawk from your glove right now would it kill someone in this room?"
"You said if a bird breaks it's leg it's pretty much dead. So how do you go about making it dead?"
She passed out post cards for the kids to send out and upon further inspection I noticed it's a sleazy direct mail piece begging for donations. No wonder she tried to give me a handful.
We were walking out and Andrew told me he's changed his mind about what he wants to be when he grows up. He wants to take care of sick birds and he's okay with the fact that she doesn't get paid - he'll just live with us forever and never go to college. His bills will be minimal. Just the wood for the cages.
As we're pulling out of the parking lot, The Rehabber lady and "Dave" are standing in front of her SUV with the hatch popped and the cages inside with the beach towels on them. She and Dave are embracing eachother and he's running his fingers through her 12 foot long hair.
Of course, Andrew has to comment. "Geez, Mom. Looks like Dave helps her with those birds and other stuff, too."
The 4th quarter is Todd's busiest time of the year. Those who never drink an ounce Jan - Sept lose control and blow it out the last few months of the year. This is a good thing. As Andrew says, "the more wine bottles they drink, Dad, the more money you make and the more cool stuff you could buy for me - if I have good behavior of course."
But it's rough on the homefront, people. I'm managing the weasels for 16 hours a day, 6-7 days a week. When the New Year finally blows in, I pack it in by 9. I'll admit that. I'm not ashamed. I dunk my crab legs in the warm drawn butter then hit the sack. We all do. It's lights out by 9:30 at the Janko crib.
So to prepare for this year's challenge, I did my best to research events in the area I could take the kids to that would really break up the day. More or less, help me make it through.
I noticed a free class at the library, "On Spirit Filled Wings: Birds of Prey Rehabilitated." It almost sounded like a religious experience so I signed Andrew and I up.
Toad watched baby weasel and Andrew and I cruised on up. I tried to explain to Andrew what the program would be about, but they didn't give me much to go on so I was pretty vague.
As we walked into the library, a librarian told us if we were here for the bird show we had to be very quiet because of the animals. ANIMALS? Wait. There are live aninals in this presentation?! Shit. I'm doomed. At least have the Wildlife Rehabber lady bring em out in the beginning of the show or it's gonna be a long ass night.
We took a seat up front (always do) and the Earthy looking woman started her powerpoint presentaton. The program did say it was for 5 year olds and up, but there's no way Andrew's gonna sit still when there are two huge cages with old nasty looking beach towels draped over them. He wants at those animals. He will not wait.
So she starts the presentation by telling us obvious shit:
-->keep your animals on a leash at all times
-->don't try to rescue an animal that's laying on the side of the road gasping for air b/c it will most likely attack you
-->don't mess with bird nests
-->don't try to make an animal a pet that clearly belongs in the wild
Yeah yeah. Get all that. But then she starts ripping through these slides of animals she has rehabbed over the years. The stories were awful, but the pictures were downright disgusting. Kind of reminded me of that film that show you in Driver's Ed where a car is mangled because the driver neglected to put on his turn signal before changing lanes. Here are some examples:
"This is a barn owl that got caught in a barbed wire fence up near Traverse City. That's why it's eyeball is hanging out of the eyesocket and it's left wing is missing."
"And someone in Sterling Heights was out hunting and thought this hawk was a turkey. The gunshot blew his anus off."
"Perhaps the saddest situation is this poor Snow White Owl. It was struck by a car and dragged 20 feet. It lived for a good 3 days. We tried to sew it's body back together but his leg was real busted and a busted leg is ALWAYS fatal. Kids, I want you to remember that. An animal can be missing an eye or feathers but if his leg is screwed up, he might as well be dead."
Surprisingly, the kids didn't say a word. Andrew looked at me a few times and made weird faces but we hung in there.
And she really teased the kids. She'd talk a big game about the animals she had in the cages and kept saying, "As soon as my Asst Dave gets here, we'll bring them out so you can meet them."
After an hour of this nonsense, Dave walks in. She smiles a lot at him and decides to crack open a cage. She brings the animals out (w/o Dave's help BTW) and chats up the cages she has in her backyard and all of the crazy shit she does for them. Sings for them. Plays the guitar, reads books, etc.
The hawk and owl entertain us for a while and then it's question and answer time.
Gotta love these:
"Why do you do this? I mean what is your REAL job? What kind of adult has time to play a guitar for a hawk that's just about dead?"
"Where did you buy the wood for your cages?"
"If you unhooked that hawk from your glove right now would it kill someone in this room?"
"You said if a bird breaks it's leg it's pretty much dead. So how do you go about making it dead?"
She passed out post cards for the kids to send out and upon further inspection I noticed it's a sleazy direct mail piece begging for donations. No wonder she tried to give me a handful.
We were walking out and Andrew told me he's changed his mind about what he wants to be when he grows up. He wants to take care of sick birds and he's okay with the fact that she doesn't get paid - he'll just live with us forever and never go to college. His bills will be minimal. Just the wood for the cages.
As we're pulling out of the parking lot, The Rehabber lady and "Dave" are standing in front of her SUV with the hatch popped and the cages inside with the beach towels on them. She and Dave are embracing eachother and he's running his fingers through her 12 foot long hair.
Of course, Andrew has to comment. "Geez, Mom. Looks like Dave helps her with those birds and other stuff, too."
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