What is a vacation without a theme park?

As planned, on our vacation back in June a day was dedicated to Valley Fair. It’s a magical place I visited a few times during childhood. And nothing says love like putting your kids on large metal objects that defy gravity, whip them around like dolls and make them scream bloody hell (and possibly vomit into or around the nearest trash can). I just wanted them to have the same memories as I - the kind that last a lifetime.

Valley Fair isn’t a huge theme park. I’m sure it’s much smaller than Six Flags but I’ve never been there so I’m totally guessing. But the place is big enough that kids could easily get lost or disappear entirely, so I was pretty much stuck like glue to my two daughters while the teens were free to venture on their own. Not that I wouldn’t miss them after a few days, or a week, tops. Thanks to the age of cell phones we were reunited periodically and when the park closed. Oh well. I guess my kids didn't get the full experience after all.

The day started out slow for me due to the blinding sun and heat. It was hard to believe that just the previous week/month it had been raining pretty much daily. I forgot to tack that onto my good luck charm list. The weather was great the entire week we were there. Coincidence? Perhaps, but not if you believe in the power of the frizz. Actually, I got burned pretty badly as a result so it's all just a farce. Damn.

Back to the little to zero cloud cover - I was wearing a tank and shorts thinking sunscreen on my arms, shoulders, chest and legs was quite enough. I hate that crap and avoid the sun as much as possible so I don’t have to use it. And I’m not sitting out in the sun as I write this either. I’m not that big of a hypocrite. But Valley Fair was an entire day outside so I had no choice. It didn't do me much good, but that's a post for another day.

I soon found out I’m not as brave as I used to be, so it was good for me to tag along with my 6-yr-old. She was too short to go on most of the rides, so you could say she was my crutch and/or excuse for being a total chicken shit. She did eventually con me into The Floom, which is a log ride in water that ends with one big scream and a good soaking, but I made her sit in front. Well, it was just part of the deal-making process.

As the day wore on I braved as many rides with my daughters as my weak stomach, heart and fragile back could handle. I'm perfectly happy not having any balls. And warning signs are posted for a reason, so I do read them. I went on the smallest roller coaster in the park (called High Roller) with my 8-yr-old after determining it was safe (no warning signs). Oddly enough, it was nothing like I remembered. Whenever they ask you to remove your hat, it is definitely a red flag. Forget the posted signage - it all boils down to the request for hat removal.

Near the end of the night the same daughter tried to get me on Wild Thing, which is THE biggest roller coaster that has ever towered over me. I took a good look at it and froze in fear. My bff stepped in and subbed for me. I really don’t know why it gave me comfort to know she was right there with my daughter when they were going through heart-stopping height/speed combos and swallowing bugs. As soon as they were done they got right back in line again. I try but I just don’t understand.

So at that time my crutch and I sauntered over to the Tilt-A-Whirl. It kicked ass.

I might have a good luck charm after all

I was looking at vacation photos a few days ago, and I noticed something in this one picture (in addition to the fact that St. Paul’s East Side is so scary now you never walk alone)...



I’m on the far left (in the photo and not politically speaking). You might think I’m going to point out the fact that I have no ass, or that my relatives are practically midgets. But the truth is when I first saw this I was thinking how much my aunt (middle) resembles a troll doll. Remember those toys from the 80’s? They were all the rage for a few seconds. And my aunt can handle being teased so I’m going to run with this. I’m not one to like to stop once I get started anyway. So I was thinking how cool it is to be related to a troll doll, because they are rumored to bring you good luck. I think you’re supposed to rub their hair, but in the case of real live troll dolls I think just being related counts. Here are the facts:

· My engine fire was eventually going to happen due to the gas leak, and it could’ve happened out in the middle of nowhere on I-94 on our way to Minnesota. Instead it happened in town at a shop with a fire extinguisher nearby. That’s good luck.

· I could’ve been out hundreds of dollars going through Enterprise or some other rental place that feigns customer service (that’s another story I prefer to forget) but one of my friends loaned us her SUV for cheap. That’s not friendship per say. It was luck she was in a bind at the right moment in time.

· My sister and her husband decided to keep their dog I had planned on adopting, which made our previous agreement null and void. This saved me from having to be the one to tear up the invisible contract (we didn’t have room in the SUV for him). Since I like to keep my word (I try) this saved me from having to break my promise. No one wants to be the most hated person in any one family, and I could’ve been. Whew, that was close. Thank goodness one of my uncles still holds the title.

· When I was kayaking for the first time in something that was basically an oversized bath toy, I didn’t flip over and drown. That is some luck. Yes I can swim. Just hear me out. I happen to believe if you fall into deep water with a life vest on, you won’t be able to swim to save your life. The life vest gets in the way and keeps you from being able to move in the water like a normal person, or an otter. You’re just a buoy. Eventually you’ll wear yourself out trying to stay afloat by constantly kicking your legs and feet. Then you’ll get a leg cramp. Meanwhile, the vest has been slowly filling with water as it’s been used so many times by other lake goers it has holes in it that aren’t visible to the naked eye, so you sink and drown. I know it’s irrational, but I dare you to try it sometime. *Disclaimer: I never said that.* Not to mention the lake was so full of weeds they were practically poking up past the surface. They’d probably speed up the drowning process by a good 95%. And I could just imagine trying to climb back into the kayak and then flipping my buddy right into the water with me. At least I wouldn’t drown alone. That’s a plus. By the way, none of this has anything to do with me flipping over in a canoe on a field trip when I was a kid.

So now that I’ve thanked my aunt for giving me all of this good luck, I want to kick it up a notch.

When I was four and learned how to write words that were kind of spelled correctly (not really), my aunt lived right next door to us. She came over quite often and inspired me to write a song one day. It went just like this:

“What’s the matter with you
What’s the matter with you
What’s the matter with you
Because, I just want to know”

It’s far from creative, but at least I learned at an early age I wasn’t going to make it as a songstress (new word - it’s like seamstress only it’s not). I can’t sew either, and that’s why it just… makes sense.

So you think you're an adult now

What the hell happened? My dog has turned into a total retard. And it only took about a week under the care of a lazy teenager.

When we went on vacation we were packed like sardines into my friend’s SUV. Basically we gave up a whole row of seating, so when I was loading our baggage it got kind of interesting. Like Regina’s son in Minnesota pointed out, it was just like a real life game of Tetris. God, I miss that game. No wonder I had so much fun loading up the luggage. Anyway, back before we left Montana it took me a couple of hours to pack it all in there just right, but in all fairness one of my neighbors stopped to converse during the game. This was the first time we actually said more than just “Hello” to each other, so I think we ended up talking a good hour until it started getting creepy and I learned he was a Kentucky-bred racist and not the innocent peace-loving Veteran I had once thought. The kids came along then and started pestering me. I’ve never been so happy to see them. They probably thought it was really weird to get smiles from me when they so rudely interrupted. What I’m doing here is dragging out the fact that since we barely had room for ourselves, we definitely didn’t have any room for a canine on board. This didn’t become an issue with adopting my sister’s dog though, because she and her husband did a 180 and decided to keep their beloved pet… some time between April and Jessica‘s birthday party.

Back to my pet - I had to hire the most responsible person I knew who was willing to dog sit (and house sit) for cheap. Enter a kid who is always desperate to get away from his place. He has been a friend of the family since he was 10. Now he’s 18 and thinks he’s an adult. I felt he was the best choice under the circumstances. I honestly don’t know anyone else I could trust 100% not to throw parties or drink my beer while we were away. But I knew there was a downside to hiring him. He thinks he can get by in life doing as little as possible. He is nearly always sitting around with his laptop, and gets less sun than a mushroom. He has no desire to go to college. In fact, I think his only plan is to do nothing and mooch off his parents the rest of his life. So… he has until the fall to get a job and pay his parents rent or he’ll be kicked out of the house. When he does ever decide to get a job he wants to live with us and pay me rent in order to escape his family drama. Well, he says his mom wants to take so much of his money he’ll be trapped at home forever. But when we came back from our vacation I soon could see where his parents were coming from...

When we walked into the house the first thing we noticed was an awful smell. Very pungent. I wanted to puke. It turned out it wasn’t him, but dog urine. Apparently there was a day when he was gone too long and didn’t get back in time. So what did he do?! Well, he obviously didn’t clean it up.

Strike one.

In the kitchen I found dirty dishes piled up in and around the sink. Every cup and bowl, all of my pots, and a pile of silverware. You’d think he would have the decency to wash his own dirty dishes?! But again, he chose to leave the work for me.

Strike two.

My dog was so happy to see us. But after the first 24 hours I realized something about her wasn’t right. She looked… so… dumb. She looks incredibly stupid all of the time now. I don’t know what I can do, but just hope that it wears off. And not only does she look like a few pancakes short of a stack, but she is acting like it too. Nearly every time I call her to go outside she just sits there and stares at me, grinning and refusing to move. She’ll slowly come over when it’s potty time but I have to practically push her out the door. All she wants to do is lay around. She used to love being outside, and went out every chance she got. Now she is just like the dog sitter she had looking after her for a week.

Strike three.

Good luck, kid. You’re going to need it. If I were you I’d start by doing everything your parents say. Maybe then, they won’t charge you so much rent.

I stole an SUV and drove 1000 miles

Then I drove all over the Twin Cities for a week, then another 1000 miles to get home when I had just become comfortable with… well, when I had become used to navigating around so many crazy drivers. It’s something I have to relearn every time I visit. As Mom says, living out here has spoiled me.

*Warning: This post will waste approximately ten minutes of your time, and that’s without leaving a comment.

I had been secretly planning this trip for months. Okay, the only secret about it was when we would arrive, which was just in time to surprise my sister Jessica for her birthday. There was a 50/50 chance she’d actually read my blog so I couldn’t say exactly when I was leaving. Well, maybe a 5% chance but I didn’t want to risk it.

Her birthday was Saturday June 21st so I planned to leave on Thursday the 19th, drive all night, and get to the Twin Cities on the 20th. Then we would show up at my sister Melissa’s house for the party on the 21st and surprise the birthday girl in person. It was a solid plan and absolutely nothing could go wrong…

Problem 1: The Bratmobile. The week of our planned escapade my vehicle started giving me shit. Well, the engine caught on fire after it had already been to the auto repair shop. When I took it in the first time I specifically told them I smelled gas under the hood. They thought I was just smelling the exhaust because they’re mechanics and trained to pretend to listen. So I dumped $350 into it, just for them to tell me there was no gas leak.

*The good news: I got my Suburban back and they did their job. You can’t tell the engine was aflame. And they found the gas leak. It was in a spot that was hidden pretty well, so I’m not upset or anything (until I get the bill). The bad news: I will eventually get the bill.

Back to problem 1… After the Suburban caught on fire they took it back, but they were too “busy” to work on it that week - the week I was planning to leave. Monday they said they’d look at it on Tuesday. Tuesday they said there was a lot of wire damage and they’d get to it on Wednesday. Wednesday they ordered parts, so it was too late to push it down the road to their competitors. Thursday they said they’d work on it Friday. I had to leave Thursday night! so I called up a friend Wednesday and asked if I could rent an SUV from her. I was seriously not expecting her to say, “Sure!” but surprisingly, she was willing to loan it out for 9 days. She only asked for $100. I gave her $200 and still felt like I should be incarcerated for grand theft auto. I was certain she’d have a change of heart and I’d get pulled over somewhere on I-94. I know I could defend myself in prison but it would really hurt to know the kids were in their father’s custody. I’m just grateful my friend was so desperate for my money.

*I returned her SUV with a half a tank of gas and had received it on “E”, so that makes me feel a little better.

Problem 1 solved...

Problem 2: Getting there alive. Up to this point I’d never driven overnight anywhere. There were times I’d tried it and ended up checking into a motel along the way. I just couldn’t do it. But this time I was determined and the pressure was on. If I didn’t pull this off I’d have no time to rest before Jessica’s party and all this planning would have been in vain.

We left Billings at 8:30 pm, and I estimated we’d be in the Twin Cities by noon Friday since the kids would be sleeping during most of our journey. It was fool-proof.

We made three pee stops before we even got out of Montana. Well, one was a gas stop and I bought a bunch of food thinking it would help knock the kids out. My teenaged sons stayed awake most of the trip so that didn’t work out too well. We spent the next few hours in North Dakota fighting over music choices. Mine were right, and they refused to acknowledge that. Eventually I was so steamed I was ready to drop them off at the next rest stop and let them hitch a ride back home. That would make my vacation cheaper and they could listen to whatever crap they wanted (if they made it back). That would sure “man” them up in a hurry. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but ultimately I ended up lecturing them on how I never argued with my dad over music in a moving vehicle. I lovingly told them, “He was paying for the gas and he was driving, so he controlled the tunes. And I respected that! I’m trying to drive here at 75 miles per hour, in the dark, in a flipping SUV that isn’t even ours… And you guys want to argue with me?! So everyone better be quiet, starting right now, unless you want us all to end up in a fiery crash. You can’t hear music when you’re dead.”

They not only shut up, but one of them even apologized.

At around 4 am the trees off in the distance started to look like evil creatures doing some sort of sacrificial dance, so I pulled into a rest stop and took a nap. The sun woke me up an hour later and we were off again. Then at some point, maybe 7 am-ish I couldn’t keep my eyes open and had to pull over again. The boys went off to explore in the trees nearby, ignoring my warning that they were bad trees, and woke me up 45 minutes later. Then the girls woke up and needed to pee every few hours.

We finally made it to our destination at 2:30 pm, but we lost an hour due to that stupid time zone change. I’ve never been so ecstatic to climb into bed. Well, not since the last time I got laid. And I slept like I’d just had an hour of sex and four orgasms, which means I slept pretty damn good.

And we all were very much alive.

Problem 2 solved…

Problem 3: The surprise. While my sister Melissa and I were planning this party with a large family attendance for Jessica, her best friend was also planning a party with a bunch of friends for her. Luckily it was scheduled for the night of Friday the 20th so it wouldn’t interfere with our party the next day. Well, I hoped it wouldn’t. It was a party which would include alcohol so Melissa worried about Jessica being hung over and not making it over to her house for the family party and her surprise (me). So in trying to coordinate all of this, Melissa’s husband later told me that she had spilled everything to Jessica’s bff. I would not have approved of this move. Just wanted to mention that. So, Jessica’s bff got drunk at her party and made the mistake of telling her she had a secret. That was all it took. Jessica then proceeded to beat it out of her. So, before the night was over she found out I was coming to surprise her and was so moved she literally sobbed like Tammy Faye...

Whatever her last name is. Was. Anyhow, this was the first time I ever made my sister cry without pain involved.

I knew all along Melissa would eventually tell some one who couldn’t keep a secret, but my guess was way off the mark. I had assumed she’d tell our mother. Apparently my repeatedly telling Melissa not to tell her paid off. Mom was very surprised.

At least some one was. I guess that counts.

Problem 3 solved…

Problem 4: Being in two places at once. The plan to surprise my sister on her birthday came about back in March when my best friend of 22 years (Regina) invited us to her daughter’s graduation party, which was also on June 21st. Her party was in the evening and my sister’s party started at noon, so I had no doubt we could make it to both parties. Well, in a perfect world…

A few days before we were scheduled to leave town Melissa tells me the party will start at 1:00 instead of noon. I realized that would cut down the amount of time I could be at Jessica’s party before heading out to the graduation party, but I didn’t foresee any problem with that. The evening party would be from 5:30 till 10 pm so that gave us plenty of time. Besides, Jessica’s party was being held at Melissa’s house, so who was I to argue? I was only traveling 1000 miles after all, and had to nearly be in two places at once. But I kept my happy face on, knowing if things didn’t work out I could always make Melissa feel guilty in the end.

It’s now Saturday, June 21st, and we are ready to party. Traffic was a bitch and a half so we got there at 1:30. It turned out Jessica was hung over after all, and hadn’t beaten us there. At this point I didn’t know she had already learned of the surprise through the grapevine a.k.a. Melissa’s mouth, so I was pretty excited and just couldn’t wait to surprise her. At 2:00 everyone was starving and tired of waiting for her, so lunch was served. At 2:30 the whining started... "When is she going to show up?"... And I’m not ashamed of that. At 3:00 her vehicle pulled in and I made the kids hide in the garage so we could jump out and surprise her. That’s when a chain of relatives passed along the phrase, “She already knows Alicia is here!”

So, word got to me before she even came within hugging range. She had asked some one if I was at Melissa’s place yet. I was… so… shocked… that she already knew…

When Jessica saw me she started to cry again. As I already mentioned, she had cried a freaking river the night before when she found out I was coming to surprise her. Then, later on I started to feel like a real bitch for wanting to get out of there to go to the graduation party. So I tried getting family members to follow us out to the party but they were all drinking and didn’t want to go anywhere. Great. So I put it off as long as possible. When I was finally ready to go, Regina told me the party would practically be over by the time I got there so I should just stay with my family and make the most of it.

Now I really felt like shit because Regina and her kin are just like family. Even better, because they aren’t blood related.

As soon as I got off the phone with her I slammed another beer. Then I drank numerous cans of Pepsi to sober up. I drove over to Regina’s house later on and we crashed there that night. I mean, we all went to sleep on her numerous sofas and whatnot. That made her feel better.

Now that problem 4 was solved in a weird and unwanted way, we were free to enjoy the rest of our vacation. We fucking did. And I gave Regina’s daughter 50 bucks for her graduation present, as well as the original baby pictures I’ve had of her for 17 years (which are the only baby pictures she now has of herself due to a bad divorce between her parents), so… she loves me.

This could've been a really cool story

I’m trying to plan a vacation, and before every long trip I get the family vehicle readied for it. For me and my crew, driving is still the cheapest way to travel. And I’m sure the people on the bus will appreciate not waiting behind a line of kids for the bathroom.

It’s been two years since our last stint so I needed a lot of work done. I took the beast down to the shop Friday for a tune-up and oil change. I mentioned the muffler was smoking. I knew I needed a new one but have been putting it off since we usually don’t drive very far. It’s just a few blocks here and there. I also told them I recently started smelling gasoline under my hood and was worried there might be a leak. I trust these guys since they’ve been taking care of my vehicles for an eternity. They run an honest business, are semi-attractive, and make an effort to attempt to listen to whatever I’m saying.

When they were all done working on it they said the gas smell was due to the old muffler. That was odd, but good to hear. It seemed I’d be saving a little money. They referred me to the muffler shop, so I set up an appointment for Monday. Meanwhile, I drove the beast around town all weekend without any problems. Well, no problems other than the gas smell, smoking muffler and carbon monoxide poisoning.

I knew there had to be a reason for my goofiness. Now we know.

Yesterday was the first hot day we’ve had in a long time. It was around 80 degrees. After lunch I asked a friend from work to meet me at the muffler shop so I could catch a ride back, since the place is a few miles away. As I drove along I didn’t notice anything strange. But just as I pulled into the shop driveway to park, I noticed smoke. It wasn’t much, but enough to get my attention. I popped the hood and hurried around to investigate. When I got close enough to lift it I heard crackling noises and decided against it. It sounded like something was busy burning under there and more smoke was pouring out. So I ran into the shop and asked the two guys if they had a fire extinguisher. I told them I thought I had a fire! under the hood.

They followed me outside and Big Guy says, “Are you sure? It looks like steam. Maybe you’re overheating.”

He lifted the hood, and flames shot up. “Oh boy.” He turned to Old Guy. “Better go get that fire extinguisher.”

In a flash Old Guy reappeared, armed and ready. He muttered, “I hope I can figure this thing out.”

It took him less than a minute to pull the pin, point and shoot, and put out the fire.

My very first engine fire.

Looking back, it would have been something special if I could’ve been the one to put out that bitch, but Old Guy hogged all of the fun. And damn, that looked like a lot of fun. Right after he was done I saw him smile for a second. He even let out a little chuckle.

No fair! I have to pay for this shit, and I don’t even get to enjoy any of it?

So… what do I do now?

Well, I can assure you I’m putting ‘fire extinguisher’ on my shopping list. Never again will I let some one I don’t even know steal my fun away.

And this could’ve been a really cool story to tell the kids. It sucks that I can’t say, “The flames were shooting up from my engine - taunting me. I was all alone… Just me, the heat, and the possibility of massive explosions and/or certain death. Did I panic? No. I grabbed the fire extinguisher and put out that bastard. No fire is ever going to fuck with me, I tell you.”

But for now, sadly, I just don’t know what it’s like to operate a fire extinguisher and describe it in great detail.

So here’s the happy ending…

Big and Old Guys couldn’t take care of my muffler. They didn’t want to risk driving my vehicle into their shop for fear of more flames and whatnot (pansies). So I called the mechanics. Then my friend, who waited patiently through all of this, told me how much worse it could’ve been.

Well, she didn’t say she almost ditched me. Walking back to work and showing up even later is one way I could imagine it being worse…

While we conversed on the way back I told her the name of the mechanic who had originally worked on my flaming hell-beast, and found out she was kind of related to him. Awkward.

The mechanics couldn’t tow the smoky hellion to their shop until just before closing time, and it’s anyone’s guess when they’ll have it finished (for real). When it is finished, for real, I’ll have to dish out more (real) money. Awesome!

Then I’ll have to go back to the muffler shop.

This might turn into a week-long event.

I really need a vacation.

And a fire extinguisher. I think the first thing I’ll do when I get one is make a bonfire out of repair receipts.

Awkward Moments: Wee Willy Winkie

The first time I ever saw a mini wiener I got an unsuspected two-fer on a family trip. During the first sighting the kid was older and didn’t even speak English. The second incident was much more intimate, and the kid was my age. This happened within a few days' time. Before you start thinking I was a little peeping pervert, hear me out. That didn’t come until about ten years later, I swear.

I was five on this occasion when my mom, dad, little sister and I hopped into the van and traveled from Minnesota to Arizona where we had lived up until the previous year. My parents had a lot of friends there and my grandparents were still together and living in Tucson. The journey itself was a lot of fun. This was back when seatbelts weren’t a requirement. So when we weren’t staring out the back windows watching other cars and making funny faces at old ladies, my sister and I were sleeping comfortably or sitting on our parents laps up front learning how to drive. Well, not really driving, but we experienced the thrill of learning how to steer a moving vehicle going 55 mph down the highway. Dad was a good teacher; and I admit it was a real power trip, knowing if I let go of the wheel we’d all surely die.

My dad loved the two-seater van and spent a lot of time pimping it out in the mid to late seventies. He insulated it, installed woofers all over the place, built and installed a bench, not to mention built a bed in the very back. We spent a lot of time in it as it was our ride and doubled as a camper. But then the new laws went into effect and the van went into permanent park mode. There wasn’t any sense maintaining it anymore. Hello station wagon! It just wasn’t the same. Safety really put a damper on things.

Many rest stops and homemade sandwiches later, we got to Tucson and went straight to Grandma & Grandpa’s. Nothing odd happened there. Well, that’s not entirely true. Someone decided since we were so close to Mexico, why not hop the border (legally) and visit my great-grandparents who didn’t speak one word of English. Cool! Little did I know just how much “cooler” it would get. So the next morning my grandma hopped into the van with us, which was kind of important since she was the only one in our little group who was bilingual. I wonder what she was saying when she’d mutter things under her breath in Spanish and look at my mother. I’ll never know for sure but I can just imagine.

We got to the shack for the very first time in our lives and couldn’t believe our eyes. It had a tin roof, wood stove, no electricity whatsoever… and an outhouse? Up until then I’d thought everyone had indoor plumbing. What insanity! Have you ever had to urinate or defecate into a hole located in what resembles a closet but is much smaller? The toilet seat is just there for show. This is nothing like a toilet! It is less frightening and probably more sanitary to use a bush, but there was no wilderness to be found; just rows of shacks surrounded by barbed wire. To protect what? I don’t know. Maybe the Virgin Mary statues and hoards of candles.

I assumed they’d be a cranky old pair living in such poor conditions, but since this was all they really knew they were surprisingly content. But I was kind of frustrated in this foreign land; it was a bitch not being able to understand my own kin. What was even weirder was trying to mingle with the kids in the barrio. They ignored us whenever we said, "Hi."
Surely they could understand that much? Nope. They would just stare and talk amongst themselves as they passed by. So my sis and I played with our dolls out in the heat under a shady tree and hoped we’d be leaving soon. And preferably before we’d have to pee again.

After what seemed like an all-day-long-eternity but was probably an hour (I did not enjoy playing with AKA babysitting a two-yr-old) two boys who looked about eight and ten walked by and made a beeline right for our van. They disappeared around to the other side of the unlocked van, where the sliding door was located. Little five-year-old me thought they might be up to some trouble. All I could think was I had to defend our van and figured yelling at them in English would scare them away. So I boldly ran over and just as I turned the corner of the van to tell them off, I stopped dead in my tracks about two feet from where they stood. One of the boys was zipping up and the other still had his dinky out. They both turned to find me standing there with very big eyes. They promptly ran away, leaving two fresh puddles behind them. So my plan worked after all; and I didn’t have to make a sound.

*****************************************

Back in Tucson either the very next day or shortly thereafter, we went to visit a couple who were my parents’ friends. They had a boy my age and a girl my sister’s age. The boy immediately began to creep me out. He just stood there and smiled at me. Our parents suggested we go play together. Considering it was either that, listen to a boring adult convo or play with the younger girls, I went off with the little urchin.

We went to his bedroom and I had a look around at his playthings. Toy trucks? No. Action figures? Maybe. TV set? Now we’re talking. So I turned on the TV, but then he told me he had something he wanted to show me. I wasn’t prepared for a show and tell session so I was a little perturbed. All of my good stuff was back at home. But I followed him into the closet anyway, thinking he had some cool new toy flashlight that projected an image of Spider Man’s web, or maybe even the Bat Signal. Back home my only male friend and I would role play Super Heroes, but somehow I always ended up being Wonder Woman. There really weren’t any other options for me.

I get into the closet and he tells me to close my eyes for a surprise. So I covered my eyes with my hands and waited for a few seconds. “Open them now,” he said excitedly.

He was standing right next to me and had yanked out his little sidekick. He held it in his small hands and looked at it, then up at me. “Do you want to touch it?”

I never saw him again after that…

Hurray for summer.

Hurray for vacation time. I’m looking forward to visiting my homeland. It‘s been two years since our last trip. It’s a 14-hr drive that always turns into a 16-hr event because the kids need to pee every few hours… and get one hot meal… so when we finally arrive I’ll see brand new worry lines on my mother’s face. Wait… she doesn’t know exactly when we’re leaving, so I’ll try to keep it that way. I‘m sure I‘ll fail miserably. She has a way of finding out things. If only I were an only child… but then I’d have no one to sympathize, or top my stories of pain and woe.

Hurray for beer. A tall cold one always tastes great on a warm day, and is probably one of my favorite things about summer. I really don’t enjoy beer much the rest of the year. I will have one or two on occasion but I have to be in the right mood for it. I don’t understand this summer phenomenon. Before I had kids I used to drink beer nearly every day through all seasons, and like water on my days off from work. I couldn’t get back into a regular drinking schedule after the first kid. I’m such a loser.

Hurray for ice cream. The kids have a chant that goes like this: I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream. Then Mom screams. They always get what they want in the end.

Hurray for baseball. I hope the new ballpark is open this summer as planned, and is still cheaper than a movie. I’m not a tightwad, I just have trouble sneaking kids into the theater, and after the first two it starts getting spendy. The popcorn is like crack and priced like gold. And you can’t have popcorn without a three or four dollar container of pop that could drown a small child.

At Cobb Field everything was reasonably priced which made for a true day of fun. Holy crap, I’ve turned into my father.

Anyway, fun time with the kids is important and I’m always happier when it doesn’t cost too much green. Yep, I’m my dad.

Not only do I enjoy ball games, but my kids will come along, and getting ALL of my kids together to spend time with mom is a tough feat these days. Teenagers are funny people. The strange thing is I can relate.

Hurray for the drive-in, but it’s only for the kids. And when the kids are happy, I bitch on the inside.

Movies just don‘t get me excited like they did years ago. When I became a grown-up (some time in the 90’s) I started seeing a trend of crap peddled by Hollywood, so I thought, like I’ll die if I don’t see Arnold in his latest multi-million dollar deal. I think the way I feel means I’m getting old. I’d guess my parents lost their love for movies when Clint Eastwood stopped starring in Westerns. For me, cinema died when Harrison Ford disappeared. He is a true stud. I’m glad he’s making a comeback of sorts in this new Indiana Jones flick, but I didn’t see him in the last three Star Wars episodes! I still want my money back. Darned kids. Yoda hypnotize them so, why does, hmm?.

Hurray for Independence Day. Our town really gets into the celebration and stretches it out over a few days with parades, fireworks, etc… and people are always on stage trying desperately to convince me that they are entertaining. I’m not like the rest of the drunken sheep, I only applaud when I mean it.

Rodeos are fun, but only when Cowboy Poker is played. There’s something special about watching a live group of snuff-chewers sitting around a card table in a ring with a bull. How does your poker face work when you have over 1,000 lbs of irate animal (complete with horns) breathing down the back of your neck? At some point the fear reflex kicks in and running for your life becomes a bit more important. In fact, the mean bucking machine doesn’t really allow time for a game to get started. To see grown men scrambling and crapping their pants is always a hoot.

We can light fireworks for two weeks straight if we feel like it. This can be fun, depending on who your neighbors are. There is a guy on our street who goes to bed early, and he will call the cops, even though he knows full well we aren‘t breaking any law. So out of respect we resist whipping out the noise makers on weeknights. Who am I kidding? The truth is we don’t want the cops hating us any more than they already do. They get really annoyed by his phone calls, so we are kind to the guy just in case we ever need to call 911. As far as I know there aren’t any specific fireworks that are banned because I’ve seen it all. Then again, I don’t have a copy of the city code handy. It may not be a defense but it works for me.

Sometimes ignorance really is bliss, especially when you‘ve got a deputy watching your every move because you justifiably insulted a woman, who turned out to be his wife. I didn’t start it, but I like to finish things in a memorable way. I guess the truth really can hurt. This is why I have a newfound love for attorneys. You never know when you’ll need one on your side, which is better than having one on your back. But it’s good when they have your back. But not your rear. What am I talking about?

What do you like about summer?