Golf Tournament Time

I’ll not be around tomorrow, but don’t worry. I will be volunteering here the entire weekend. I’ll be operating a ShotLink device, which marks the player’s ball on the fairway and green. Pretty cool, actually. It’s a survey machine hooked up to a Palm Pilot. You “shoot” the ball with a laser and it records the position of the ball relative to the tee or the hole. It then transmits that data to the ShotLink computers, which uploads it to the internet. Slicker than cow shit, really.

Today, I got to see David Duval, Fred Funk, and Joey Sindelar while we were out there for lunch. One of the few perks here is that we get free tickets to the tournament, free parking passes, and free tickets to our Hospitality Tent. It is usually a lot of fun, which is why I like to volunteer. Plus, you get some up close time with the golfers.

Anyway, if you’re huntin’ me, that’s where I’ll be. I’ll let you know how it went on Monday.

Naked Gym Guy

Dear Naked Gym Guy,

I’m sure you’re a nice guy. You probably have quite a few friends, and I’m sure the guy at the tattoo parlor loves you. You’re well-spoken and can carry on a conversation even when the person you’re speaking to is trying like crazy to not look at your naked personage.

Sir, if I may be so bold…Please stop talking to me when you’re butt freakin’ naked. Didn’t you see me turn my head when I rounded the corner and saw your pimply posterior staring me in the face? Of course not, you were too busy saying, “Hey man, how’s it going?”. And if you must converse while showing your corpulent backside, please, please, please don’t be wiping it with your towel. That’s just gross.

In closing, I would like to congratulate you on the fortitude you exhibit by coming to the gym on a daily basis. However, Naked Gym Guy, I must deduct a myriad of points for this simple fact; you talk to strangers butt freakin’ naked. If you will not refrain from this act, I will be forced to gouge my eyes out, purchase a seeing-eye dog, and train him bite your testicles off the next time you exhibit them to God and Country.

Please, my man, wrap that package before speaking.

Vegetation Vandal update

Wow. This thing has taken on a life of its own. We have wanted posters featuring Heimlich, a robot-voiced ransom note left by by Al-Quedah, a second ransom note written in the same ransom note font, and a press release about the capture of Heimlich.

I’ll be sure to keep you posted.

The Vegetation Vandal

This just in…


—–Original Message—–
From: (deleted)
Sent: Monday, September 27, 2004 9:59 AM
To: Facilities Manager
Cc: Department Manager
Subject: Vandalism

Facilities Manager, someone is destroying plants in (name deleted)’s office. It started several weeks ago with a plant of his – a beautiful philodendron. First, the runners were snipped. After they fell off, the individual leaves started being cut a few at a time each day until only 1 leaf remained on the whole plant. He took it home. He got a second philodendron and the same thing is happening – a couple of leaves are cut just about every day. You can tell the fresh cuts from the older ones, even if you don’t remember specifically which leaves are there one day and gone the next. This is ridiculous and I’m not sure what can be done about it, but something needs to be. Any ideas?

Hide your plants, kiddies, it seems the Vegetation Vandal is back. And he’s pissed!

And, for the record, I had nothing to do with this. However, we did take full advantage of the situation by sending him a ransom note in a nice ransom-note font. It said, “If you involve the authorities again, the plants gets it. Sincerely, The Vegetation Vandal.”

Fishing redux

What a great two days. We drive down through the remnants of the remnants of Ivan, which consists of lots of rain and lots of wind. Luckily, we didn’t get much of either.

Got to Port Sulphur, put our stuff in the camp house, which, by the way, has central air, 2 bathrooms, upright fridge, upright freezer, and an awesome view. Roughing it sucks.

Went to the local eatery/gas station for burgers. This place has great food and plenty of it. The normal-sized hamburger is a double. When it was delivered, one of the guys said, “Wait. YOU ordered a double?” The waitress responded, “No, dat de regulah size.” It was fantastic, too.

Played Texas Hold ‘Em, which is pretty much the new black of poker. Everywhere I turn, people are either talking about it, playing it, or talking about playing it. I got my ass waxed…no, not like that. I lost. If we were playing for real money, I would have lost big time.

Got up at the crack of dawn, went back to gas station for breakfast. Poured my coffee directly into the sugar dispenser cause it was early, jack, and I needed a boost.

Hit the water about 8 am. Let me tell you something, folks, we live in an absolutely beautiful country. I am awestruck everytime we leave the docks in Port Sulphur. The sun was just coming up, painting the sky in the most dazzling colors. There was a slight, cool breeze that smelled of the sea and you could see nothing but water and marsh grass wherever you looked. I could have sat there for hours, doing nothing but watching the world.

Next thing I know, it’s 1:30 pm and we’re heading back. I’m tired, my hand is about to cramp, my feet hurt, and I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time. It was a great time yet again. Between my buddy and I, we caught 40 redfish (we can only keep 5 a piece), 27 speckled trout (kept them all), and I caught two flounders. Fantastic!

Got home last night, put more ice on the fish, and crashed. It was the most fun I’ve had in close to a year. With the divorce stuff, the crap with my Mom, and just crap in general, it was great to just relax and unwind. I went down there with people I consider great friends and had an incredibly good time.

Thought I’d share some of the verbal highlights, too.

“You know how I know that? Because I’m bad ass!”
“Do the Tylenol PM make you sleepy?”
“Warn us before you do that next time.”
“Damn right I’m going all-in, it’s not real fucking money.”
“Um, I wouldn’t go in there for about an hour.”
“You’re wearing cologne? We’re going fishing for christ’s sake.”
“Um, I wouldn’t go in there for two hours.”

Good times!

One Hundred Years Ago

September 23rd, 1904 was the day my Bub was born. Or at least that’s the date she chose when she came to America so that’s the day we celebrated. Since her family followed the Jewish calendar, she really wasn’t sure what day she was born. I guess birthdays in the old country weren’t that big a deal.

Happy Birthday, Bub. I miss you.

Who wears pajamas?

Saw this in a Time Magazine article on blogging.

“Bloggers have no checks and balances. [It’s] a guy sitting in his living room in his pajamas.”
—JONATHAN KLEIN, former senior executive of 60 Minutes, on Fox News

Funny thing, though. The guy who’s supposed to rely on his “checks and balances” failed to do so and may soon be sitting in his living room in his jammies. Et tu, Rather?

And, for the record, nothing comes between me and my keyboard, Klein.

*Thanks to Maura for the article.