Notes From Tom’s Garage

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  tom 10:22 pm on September 11, 2018 Permalink  

  How Does One Define “Sad”? 

  I’ve lived a charmed life. I dated the prettiest girl I’d ever seen when I was 17. Many years later we dated again and married. We have two kids who are healthy and are only mildly rotten (FTW!). I have friends I’ve known since I was six years old. I have a few new friends from as far away as Canada and Ireland. I keep very few friends because I’m at least as picky as they ought to be. Basically, my friends are amazing. 

  Adding to that blessing: I’ve always been happy, even as a little kid when some folks might have thought things would be difficult. I don’t know why because I never worked at it. Sure, I had brief times of not feeling so great but by-and-large, I’ve been happy for my entire life. The funny thing is, that can be a problem: I’m not used to sadness. I don’t know what to do with it. 

  I’m an adult, I’ve experienced sadness before. I don’t like it and I don’t know what to do with it. 

  My friend, Greg Koenig, died today unexpectedly. He was the world’s greatest story-teller. He’d sock a moose in the mouth if that’s what was needed to protect his family or his pals. The dude cared. He was a blessing to humanity. 

  Some folks tell me that I used to be able to string words together in a clever way. Well, I certainly can’t tonight (If I ever could). I can only come up with this: I’m so sad.

  I’m so sad right now, I don’t know what to do. It’s why I keep yammering on with this garbage post but I don’t know what else to do. I’m so bloody sad. 

  I’m gonna miss you my friend. I loved you, holmes. You made a positive difference in my life. I only wish I would have told you. God bless Kim and your kids and your grandkids. Fuck.

   
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  tom 11:32 pm on May 14, 2018 Permalink  

  Walkin dogs 

  The notable Andy Rooney is quoted as saying, “If dogs could talk it would take a lot of the fun out of owning one.”. I agree (unless you had the only one because it would be fun to be rich and that would make Andy look pretty silly). But what if they could understand regular language and just nod back with a “Roger” or “Negative”? I’d be all, “I wanna take you for a walk but I’m out of old grocery bags so we can only go if you promise not to shit on a neighbor’s yard. <Roger>. Can you make it around the entire block without shitting on a neighbor’s lawn? <Roger>. CAN YOU? <Negative> :(.”

  That’s a good, honest dog right there.

   
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  tom 8:05 am on May 6, 2016 Permalink  

  When I Knew You Were Going Away Tomorrow 

  I got the call mid-morning while I was heads-down in work. I almost didn’t pick-up the phone because I had just a few minutes of research left before I was in a spot where I could take a break, but I noticed it was Edward’s home number — a number I had known for almost 40 years. “Mr. Doran!”, I said, expecting to get some shit for missing the last SJA get-together and trying to prompt me to do what it takes to make it to the next one. Natch. He told me Deanna was going away tomorrow, forever. I won’t go into detail about my disbelief and how many times I insisted he had the wrong information before finally accepting that he wasn’t yanking my dick and that she was indeed leaving us all tomorrow to be with her parents. Point is, eventually I “got there” mentally.

  It’s times like these that make me hate being an adult. I had to call friends to get my kids picked up, message customers that I would be unavailable, call my wife for a ride down to the hood (since I would be too unsafe on my own) and other small things. Every second of prep sped by at the speed of our expanding universe… I couldn’t catch my breath! She was leaving and I was calling stupid customers and loading random shit into my car. I had pictures of us somewhere, a signed yearbook… did I have an old SJA uniform shirt that I could jokingly squeeze into? Fuck it. Take it all and sort it out on the way.

  The drive down was miserable. Traffic (for a change) wasn’t too bad but closing the gap between here and there gave me too much time to think about what I might say, and other things. I hadn’t showered yet nor shaved for days. I bet it would be busy down there — news like this travels fast and Deanna was not short on friends. The locals had the advantage. If only I had had two days’ notice, amirite? Crikey.

  As expected, there was no place nearby where we could park so my hunny-bunny double parked and of all things I grabbed the toolbox from the back of the van. Don’t ask me why, I haven’t a clue but it worked out in my favor. “I may be a while. Actually, I’m sure one of the SJA crew will drive me home”. Kerri asked if I wanted anything else out of the van. I wanted all of it (just in case) but seeing the crowd, there was just no way. So I grabbed a box labeled “old stuff”, gave her a kiss, and watched her motor off.

  Now what? A box of unknowns in one hand and a toolbox in the other, I headed toward the line of people outside her house. I knew Deanna would give each person the time they wanted and with this mob I was more likely to get front row seats at Monsters Of Rock showing up 15 minutes early to the boxoffice. No way. I’m not normally a cheater but this was different and if I had to, I’d go to Confession later. I decided to just walk past everybody and hope that no one would say anything. That got me about three beyond the end of the line before a well-meaning cholo noticed the bullshit I was attempting and stopped me. Note: I’m a suburbanite now and this kat could have easily made a proper example out of me. But he didn’t. I said, “Hey man, the AC is broken and with so many people in there, it’s unbearable. I’m gonna fix it”. He saw a twitch in my cheek, a tremble in my lips, and my eyes welled up. He’s no dummy — He knows I’m full of shit but senses my urgency is greater than his. Not because of *my* urgency but because, I think, he knew there was something bigger going on and I had to be there. This motherfucker, and I’ll never forget is face, looked me up and down for a couple of long seconds and made a judgment, and then he led the way for me. “Look out folks, AC is out and this guy needs to get it fixed right now”. A few guys didn’t quite buy it but he was all, “Move, fool, he needs to get in!”. They bought it! Or at least, they had bought it long enough for me to get in through the side door before any real grumbling began. I never did catch that guy’s name but if he’s reading this, he needs to get in touch so I can give a proper thanks.

  Turns out I wasn’t so creative after all. As I got in the side door which led to the kitchen, I see Edward in his scrubs, Manny with cameras wrapped around his neck, Mino with his jumpsuit, David’s badge and gun, and so many other SJA crew who managed to “pursuade” their ways in. Each of us peeked around the corner where Deanna was sitting, surrounded by her sons and daughters and, what the heck!?!? Tanya and Kendi and Teresa were already in there! They didn’t need a disguise or a side entrance… they just gave the look they needed and walked past everybody. They’re lovely girls but I wouldn’t mess with a one of them at game time.

  We sheepishly all rounded the corner together, rather than waiting for one-at-a-time, and Deanna greeted us with hugs, the kind only she can give and the kind that makes you remember. When it came to me I still had that box and my toolbox. In a mock serious way she asked, “Are you here to fix my fridge, Thomas?”. “No”, I said, “I’m here to fix your air conditioner”. “I don’t have an air conditioner, Thomas”. Then she let that smile break through and gave me an equal portioned hug.

  We all gathered in a circle and talked about the times of our youth together. We laughed so much. Lord did we laugh and we all felt so filled with the joy of the moment. The clock was ticking but we didn’t notice it. The people outside were getting restless but Deanna wasn’t as important to them as she was to us. She gave us all the time she had left and it was time for her to go. We had already done our pleading for her to stay but resigned ourselves to the inevitable. We had a final, best memory of her that we could have. No regrets.

  Police and lawyers say that two witnesses to the same crime often report completely different sets of events. Each witness is well-meaning and telling the truth as they recall it. A certain confabulation (look it up, bitches) sets in. And this is how I remember it.

  “What about the box, Thomas?!?!? What was in the box?”. I promise it was a glorious memory that we’ll each cherish. I’m so glad I brought it along. Ask me about it the next time we see each other.

  I love you, SJA crew. I’ll miss you Deanna.
  -tom

   
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  tom 11:55 pm on January 31, 2016 Permalink  

  Stuff Stories Are Made Of 

  It’s Ben’s birthday tomorrow but we took him to get his birthday present today: A PS 4 that he’s been wanting for more than a year.  We’re pretty cool parents, eh? Except, he had to pay for it himself so what we really got him was permission and a ride.

  We already have a Wii and an XBox and although they’re older, they still work just fine and we just weren’t going to buy a PS4 last year as well. We told him if he saved his money and could buy it on his own, we’d *think about* letting him get the new console. He’s been doing a lot of saving but would get derailed from time to time and set himself back a little; A new Airsoft rifle, new video games for our existing platforms, etc.  But for his typical reckless way with money, he did pretty well resisting blowing cash on trinkets or other things that held only temporary interest.

  We all have stories about the “crazy” things we had to (or were able to) do when we were our kids’ age; From a single rotary phone that all 9 of us had to share to being the last people on the planet to finally get an Atari game console from a garage sale and other things that were no big deal at the time but sure seems like it to kids today.

  I’m just writing this down so Ben’s kids will know his story is legit.  Yes, dear grandchildren, your dad really did have to save up his own money and still be a good kid all year just to get permission and a ride to buy his own birthday present. So be thankful for what you have. And get off my lawn!

   
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  tom 1:12 am on March 29, 2014 Permalink  

  NASCAR Fontana 2014 

  It’s difficult to know how to start to tell this brief tale, if only because I have no knowledge of the meaning of brevity. Me, my son and his grandpa Terry stowed away with my generous neighbors (Darin and Kent) to chill in the infield at Fontana last weekend. We had an epic experience.

  I don’t recall the impetus for me trying to glue things together but I’m sure it started with an invite from Darin and from that inch I dragged a mile (sorry bro). I checked with an old friend who knows a thing or two about racing culture for what I should try and do to make decent memories since I’m still in a NASCAR playpen. Turns out he hooked me up with tix to the Jimmie Johnson Q/A and other goodies as well as some advice. We settled on going Thursday night and returning on Sunday. For the uninitiated, that’s a long bloody time. It’s all fun but the tax man will eventually come collecting (he comes quicker as you get older). Here we go:

  Arrived Thursday night, just in front of the parade of haulers. Darin and Kent had a motorhome so I parked outside and hiked in across the track with Ben and Grandpa. First things being first, we had a ceremonial shot of whiskey and commenced re-introducing ourselves to the neighbors. Blah blah, drink drink, eat some of Kent’s killer BBQ, sit around the fire.

  Friday was pretty mellow and we spent some time meeting extended neighbors and checking out the scene in general. We were on the lower level which is pretty mellow compared to what goes on up above. That was perfect being that we had kids around. Ben and Matty reminded me of being a kid in the 1970’s. They took off on their bikes for an adventure with the rule being that they stuck together. No other rules. It was bitchen. They’d come back like crows for food once in a while but mostly they owned the place. I was secretly nervous but I knew it was right to let Ben spread his wings and Matty has always treated Ben like a little brother so I knew all would be good.

  Enough of the “timeline” format. The thing is, the folks who bother camping in the infield are pretty awesome. Ben popped his rear inner tube and the little market didn’t have any replacements. I asked bunches of neighbors and all were willing to help but none had the right size tube. Then neighbor Tyse dialed us in with a patch kit and actually did the fixing himself. It’s like a giant family on the inside as long as you’re not a douche.

  The really nice thing for me was seeing Ben push himself. At NASCAR, people are cool as long as you put in some effort too. If you whine or punk out, you’re not going to have a very good time. But if you help and you try, you’ve got a family all around you and tons of encouragement.

  Check this: They put on a “Pinewood Derby” for the kids on Saturday. We basically walked the kids in, signed them up and let them go to work. Again, I was a bit nervous but I knew helicoptering wasn’t going to be good for either of us so I let him go. It turns out, when it was all finished, Ben took 1st place, out of 200+ kids. That’s badass on its own for a first-time attendee who’s just 10 years old. But he also got a cool trophy, a NASCAR wall clock, cool grandstand tickets, a signed pinewood car and *4 tickets to Victory Lane on Sunday!!!!!!*. Spirits were running high for sure.

  The whole camp was happy for Ben and his crew chief (Matty) had a ticket with his name on it. We told neighbors and others about it and asked what we should expect (since we’d never done Victory Lane before). We asked, “What should we bring to get signed? Several people told me, “Everything!”. “The winner will give you a minute or two since you won your race and he won his”. Blah blah. Everyone was stoked and encouraging.

  We watched a good part of the race from the grandstands and moved close to the entrance of Victory Lane as the race ended. BTW, if you’ve never been close to the track when they’re doing 200MPH, you don’t know what you’re missing. Those drivers are out of their minds! I can’t imagine the endurance required to complete the race.

  Kyle Busch won this time. We’re a Jr. household but we appreciate all talent and Kyle is consistently a great driver.

  Here’s where it gets a bit crummy though it’s probably my own fault. I suppose since Ben got the Victory Lane tix for winning the pinewood derby and listening to all the vets in the infield, my expectations were set high. I had prepped the boy for getting a min or two with the winner (Kyle Busch in this instance), getting some stuff signed and a picture or two. That didn’t happen. What did happen was, when Busch went to sign autographs he went person to person, trying to sign as many as he could and when he got to Ben, he was nothing special… just another fan. My boy says, “I won the pinewood derby!” and Busch turned over his trophy, signed the bottom and moved on. That was it. Crushing. Ben turned and looked at me as if he had done something wrong. He turned back and looked longingly at the champion as he moved on to the next person and the next.

  If I’m sour, I’m sour at myself for building up my son’s hopes. I’m an infant when it comes to these things and alluded to more than I should have to the boy. I understand that the winner (and NASCAR) has all sorts of obligations; There are sponsors and other VIPs that make all of this magic happen and they need attention. And heck, the winner has got to be exhausted. Still I think, wouldn’t it be cool for the winner of the pinewood derby and the winner of the Auto Club 400 to have a picture together? Perhaps that picture shows a future winner of the big race. That would be gold, Jerry! Gold!

  On the whole, we had an epic experience. I have to thank Darin and Kent for letting us invade. I had a wonderful time meeting Uncle Joe Benson after so many years of listening to him. Every NASCAR employee I encountered was exceedingly nice. The Vons temporary store folks did their best and we appreciated it. And believe it or not, the San Bernadino County Sheriff Deputies were amazing… they brought me back to the 1970’s when things were different.  Oh, and very important: The Blue Angels pilots and crew in Victory Lane were absolutely incredible with the kids. Can’t tell y’all how much I appreciated it as a dad of a 10 year old boy who looks up to our military personnel.

   
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  tom 11:33 am on December 26, 2013 Permalink  

  McDonald Christmas 2013 

  One of the things I like most about my kids is their tendency to sleep late, even on Christmas morning. Sure, it makes things difficult while school is in session but an 8am Christmas morning more than makes up for that. This year was a little strange because I’ve been spoiled for the last long time in having Kerri’s parents with us and the kidlets throughout the Christmas season. For a variety of reasons that didn’t happen this year so it was a quiet morning with just the four of us.

  In the afternoon we shot over to my mom’s place where my siblings, their spouses and all their McChildren gathered. It’s a rare event to get all 7 of us siblings together in a single location so I’m kicking myself for not taking pictures while everyone was there. There were only 10+ cameras in the house so you can see why it would be difficult to remember. 🙁

  We ended up getting ourselves a ping pong table as the “family gift”. We had a great time playing at Kristie (previously known as Valdivia) and Chris Bowers’ home earlier in the year and decided we needed training for the next time we visit with them. The weather has wanted to be beautiful since before Christmas but the wind has been fairly constant so we’ve not been able to play much. Oh, we’ll get to it soon and by summer you may find us live on ESPN276 or whatever channel carries pro ping pong.

  We’re very grateful for our friends and family again this year. We’re mindful of the sacrifice our military and their families have offered up while we enjoy the comforts of home with loved ones around us. Thank you all! Best wishes for 2014!

   
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  tom 1:52 pm on April 28, 2013 Permalink
  Tags: packers, true randomness   

  Pulp Football Deprivation 

  Me and Clay Matthews went to high school together. Okay, so he was 3 years old when I graduated high school but we did both attend Agoura High School, just 15 years apart. I hope he stays healthy this year so he can continue to haunt the dreams of those pesky Bears fans.

  

   

  And this:

  

   

  And this:

  

  It’s like we’re brothers! And it would be weird to ask your brother to sign your t-shirt or cap or jacket or blanket or socks or signs in The Garage or “season tickets waiting list letter” and stuff like that, right? BUT… I don’t think it would be weird for my kids to want an autograph from their “uncle”. Yeah! YEAH! My *kids* need this Clay Maker shirt autographed because they’d love to see me wearing it.  Clay, if you’re listening, do it for the kids. The kids!

  Obviously I’m getting delirious during these dark times of dragons and Sauron and no football. The draft is like a mirage in the desert after several days of no water and it tortures the mind. I want to believe football season will be here again but hope is waning at a near-fatal clip and I fear even the recordings of last year’s season will soon fail to provide the sustenance required for basic life support.

  As the Green Bay Christmas Ornament Gnomes start to wink at me I begin to wonder if I’m in heaven or Iowa. Why does my Packers 2013 calendar show a player who recently agreed to wear purple? Am I entombed in some abandoned carnival haunted house? 42 appears to be the only answer I’m able to compute.

  I hear the sounds of helicopters; Help must be on the way. But are they in time? If I don’t pull through, please bury me in my Packers zip-up hoodie and transfer my one Packers share to my daughter… she’ll know what to do with it.

   
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  tom 11:44 am on November 11, 2012 Permalink  

  Fun With Guns And The Attack Of The Wild Boar 

  Yesterday I found myself in California’s little slice of Texas, also known as Bakersfield. I’ve often noted that rural Texas is where I’ve found the nicest people in the country (though I’ve not traveled so extensively to exclude other places definitively) and I find the same in rural Bakersfield. It wasn’t just myself but perhaps 100 others along with my sweetcakes of a daughter, Abby, all gathered for the 5th annual Mick Asbury ALS Shootout. This would be Abby’s first year attending and not likely her last.

  Abby and I got up at 3:30am to get ready and left at 4:30am on the 2.5 hour trek up north. Scratch that… we got up at 3:30am with the *intention* of leaving at 4:30am. Turns out our pal Chris Johnson who was going to hitch a ride with us decided he needed a bit more sleep and that his alarm clock should go off at 3:30pm rather than “a.m.”. No worries though, I was going early to help setup but we arrived in time to get some breakfast, mingle and head up to our starting station with time to spare. I’ve gotta bust your chops CJ… it’s in my DNA. Truthfully, I was nervous about having 3 kids in my group without an additional adult to keep things moving while avoiding blown-off toes. Thanks for cruising!

  Abby has shot before but only a couple of times and each with only a few rounds. This was going to be 17 stations and a total of 100 rounds with a fairly heavy .20 gauge which she had a hard time keeping in proper position. The bruising on her arm and shoulder tell enough of the tale but eventually she had to give in and start skipping stations. She hung in like a trooper and even with a few tears decided to hang with us rather than head back to the main gathering area. She says she’ll be back but will work on her upper body strength to make sure she’s ready next year.

  My biggest fear in the early part of the day was seeing one of the kids discharge their weapon unexpectedly. We wanted to let them take responsibility and do things on their own but still kept a watchful eye. A few gentle reminders from CJ to “keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot” and they were doing just fine. Well, the 14 year old, Gavin, was more seasoned than me and did not need any help. Heck, he had to fix my gun twice as I jammed the 2nd round when loading. Personally, I think it was due to a design flaw in the gun. But really, they should have assigned someone to watch *me* as I watched the kids. 🙂

  Moving right along, the shoot was good; The folks in front of and behind us were awesome as usual. I got 30 out of 100 which is crappy but better than last year and not so bad for someone who only ever shoots at this event. The 14 year old got 56 of 100. I would have beat him up but he’s bigger and stronger than me and some might have viewed that as being a sore loser. If you want to know what pride tastes like, drop me a note and I’ll send you a description. I forget what CJ got but I know he beat me pretty handily. I think the only one I beat in our group was Abby and that’s likely because she didn’t finish all of the stations.

  Once we were done shooting we made our way to the main gathering area for some awesome food and (finally!) some beer. Next up was the raffle. We bought $100 in tickets and I thought for sure I’d buck the two-year trend of going home empty-handed. After all, I had my good luck charm of a daughter with me. Sadly, my Schleprock genes proved too powerful. Darin, Tyson and crew get some of the best raffle items for a group like us. They had 8 or 10 guns, lots of knives from Cold Steel (always generous donors to the cause!) and so many other items. They had a new one prize raffle this year too which was only for the 15 and under kids and didn’t cost them anything to participate. They called up the kids, had them each pick a card, tear it in half and then they’d pick a half from a bucket. The winner got a neat .22 rifle. Really a sweet deal and so much fun for the kids. Great idea Asbury clan!

  Gavin’s mom (Joey) was there too, having managed to get two kegs of Manrock beer donated along the way. She also poured beer for the crowd. Alex and Ronelle were up late and up early to provide their delicious breakfast burritos and they donated several items from their 2 Hot Headz food company. Kari (Darin’s girlfriend) seemed to be all over the place, helping wherever help was needed. I shan’t forget too that she being the always-prepared mother, had an Advil handy for Abby to help dull the pain in her shoulder and reduce the swelling (thanks Kari!).  So many other people donated time and other items but since I was late (yeah, CJ, that’s aimed at you) I didn’t get to track it all. Thanks all for making it a great day!

  I’ll be curious how the Shootout organizers made out this year. If I understand things correctly they’ve been able to donate $77K from the previous 4 events to help locals afflicted with ALS. This is about helping individuals make their lives more bearable when little other help is available in the waning stages of the disease.

  Oh yeah, that Wild Boar thing… that was link bait to a certain degree. At some point I noticed my ring finger was bleeding rather steadily and I’m thinking that when I reached into a box of ammo for some shells I cut myself on the container without realizing it. Being out on a shotgun range we had to come up with a better story than that so Me, Chris and Abby began spinning a tale of encountering a mad wild boar on the trail and me having wrestled it down and “hog-tying” it, must have caught my finger on its tusk. If you ever hear that bullshit story, don’t believe it. In truth, it was a ricocheted pellet from one of the guns that I saved from hitting a baby in a stroller by throwing myself in front of it at the last minute. Harrowing event that I don’t really like to talk about much.

  tom and Chris Johnson are discussing. Toggle Comments

   
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    Chris Johnson 10:05 pm on November 12, 2012 Permalink

    Great post Tom. I will back you up on the baby saving maneuver…or is it manure? I keep forgetting.

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    tom 11:02 pm on November 12, 2012 Permalink

    Chris: I just heard back from the mom of the baby I saved. Turns out he’s a direct descendant of George Washington and meant to free our country from special interests in the future. It’s a good thing I was there. Phew!

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  tom 2:46 pm on June 14, 2012 Permalink  

  Dads / Kids Camping Weekend 2012 Notes 

  Hello fellow dirtbags,

  Every Dads/kids weekend has its challenges and upsides. This year the flies and ants were ridiculous but I also count the lack of police hassle (Thanks for preempting, Marc!) and insanely great weather as formidable upsides versus the challenges.

  Since this is my newsletter I’m going to abuse my power a bit to talk about a couple of things that were amazing for me personally before I get to the general stuff about you idiots that I need to write down so I don’t forget.

  As you know, in addition to my children I had two of my nieces and my father along this time. First, the girls. As one of the architects of the weekend in general I can get caught up doing things and the girls had a couple of choices: They could have, A) taken advantage of my busyness and acted like normal, out of control teenagers or, B) they could have helped, checked in every time I asked them to and generally made my life easier. They chose option B. I couldn’t be more proud. And a huge shout-out to Emilee (sp?) Weatherwax for being apart of that group and keeping things on an even keel; I should probably setup your tent next year as a thank you.

  My Dad had a great time too and I have several of you to thank for helping make that happen. Let’s face it, he’s 200 years old now and his bones may not agree to sleep on the ground in the future so this was special for me. The fact that so many of you noticed that he apparently got a magnet too close to his compass during a walkabout was heartening. You’re still dirtbags but that was pretty F’in cool. Thx.

  Now let’s get down to business because I have a lot of shit to get off my chest about this weekend and none of it is good.

  First of all, I was way late this year due to school commitments for the boy’s class. Nothing pisses me off more than seeing Dave Sander have his camp setup before me. Then again, Mino got double-screwed so I take some solace in that.

  Let’s see if I can recall something about each of you from the weekend. As is typical, if I leave you out it means you didn’t bring me any beer but you’d be justified in asking for your $100 back. I’ll see you in court.

  Dean Ellis: We found that we’re both doing some work for companies in Ireland. Of course, I get to do it from the States but that was still pretty cool. Was a little bummed that your nieces couldn’t make it this year but Jenna (as usual) more than made up for the absence. You realize I don’t get my federal matching funds when they are absent, right?

  Scully: I love you dude, I really do. But keeping me up until 4:30am is not even cool. It’s also not cool to turn in early. Find a sweet spot or bring your guitar. Thankfully you brought Logan so that acted as a bit of an offset. Next year it’s music and new testament and down by 2am, cool?

  Dave Sander: Bradley and Amanda are so pliable and (at least to the rest of us) don’t have a complaint to be lodged. They’re really great kids… they must have a decent Mom. Really appreciate you running so many kids on the skis. And, I’ll let my man-love show here… It’s really great for me to see you. Don’t ever arrive and setup camp before me.

  Steve Sanders: Lord, I realize that everyone has their cross to bear but this seems too burdensome. If it weren’t for your awesome twins I would have thrown you out Saturday morning. I do appreciate you looking out for my old man but you’re still a pussy for camping in an RV. Get with the program, buy a tent and camp furreal next time. I’ll loan you the money if you’re a bit short. And: Chaffing… A&D. ’nuff said, pussy.

  Counselor Dion: Riley made strides this year! But stop camping in that back spot… no one cares about the noise (if they did me and Scully wouldn’t be invited). Riley and Connor were awesome together. I can’t wait to see what next year holds for those two. I’m also convinced that your note from last year made it possible for us to avoid the big hassle factors with the cops.

  Phil Crouse: The human jellyfish… wherever the tide takes you. You’re still a girl for not coming up on Friday but really, with the flies, you ended up being the lucky one. We’ll never know if your tri-tip was overcooked or if you’re mad that you didn’t get enough ants in your breakfast burrito. Would you please bitch about *something*, just once?

  Captain Nelson: I realize that Connor almost drowned (whatever). Wasn’t it cool to see him spread the wings a bit? In two years the weekend will be more about you but for now you’re fooked. Still worth it though brother… I hope you keep coming back. I’ll leave a half-opened bag of marshmellows in your tent next year just to make you feel proper.

  Ely(s): Part of me wants to torch you for coming up on Saturday but you did handle A/V stuff and brought your boys so I’m gonna lean towards counting my blessings. Jonathan: It sickens me that you’re old enough to right the ski on your own *legally* (a’hem). You’re supposed to be a kid trying to master his 12’s times tables. Stephen: Aren’t you glad you decided to come up? There’s nothing like hanging with a bunch of over 40 idiots, huh? We’ll put on an even lamer show next year… you should join us!

  Pop (Hugh to the rest of you): It was great having you back again. Next year I’m going to coax Infuhr to get his boat going in time so you can get out on the water. I think there’s wheelchair access at the docks. Can you imagine how nice it would have been if we had those new easy tents back when you were taking us camping? I sure don’t miss those damn old aluminum poles.

  Alex: The man with the spices. Where can we buy some? You better get your illegal ass out for the whole weekend next year. And don’t bring that stupid tent trailer… that’d put you one step away from being as lame as Sanders.

  TQ, I’m gonna tread lightly here because I’ve really come to depend on the wood you provide. I was glad you were able to at least make the day trip. Honestly, I mostly miss you doing all the dishes after Sunday breakfast and taking my kids out on the ski so I can sloth around on shore. Maybe next year.

  Tyson: Where’s my AR? It’s always good to see you, even if just for the day but one of these years we’ll get you out for the whole weekend. I know you get nervous at night but I know a guy who works in the prison system and I’ll have him protect you. Pinky promise.

  Tim Infuhr: The ghost. You take the “leave no traces” bit of camping to a new level. If you’re going to workout so much do us a favor and leave your damn shirt on. I almost got kicked out of the group for standing next to you with no shirt on because everyone thought I was a woman. Knock it off or start smoking.

  Mino: The jetski mechanic who couldn’t get his boat running but fixed both of Darin’s. You gotta see the irony in that. That Saturday afternoon chicken was badass. I hope the rest of the dirtbags don’t start thinking we’re going to provide Saturday lunch going forward. Michael and Hannah were great as usual but I did feel really bad that the sun treated your girl so badly.:( Next year I’ll reserve a slightly cooler day with Ma Nature.

  Steve Weatherwax: How on earth do you keep those skis running so reliably? Especially given all the knuckleheads running around on them all day? I think everyone is having so much fun riding your gear that we don’t always remember to tell you how thankful we are that you bring them (and yourself of course). How do you end up with such mellow dogs?

  Kent: This year was pretty ridiculous with your cooking gear. Next year I’ll bring more so we don’t all hover over yours the entire time. I really dug on your tent setup with the two facing each other and one carpet between the two. Thanks for doing the cooking (and the cleaning! Fuck, we suck. Where’s TQ?). Next year you’re going to have to find a way to stay Sunday night. Shhhh. Don’t tell the other dirtbags or it’ll ruin the whole gig. Emily and Katie were (as always, as in, every time) really awesome. They really make the weekend for my kids and I’m sure the others as well. Thanks kids!

  Katie: This is the first time I’ve included a “kid” (hah!) in the list but it is well warranted. Too many great things to say about what you add to the experience for everyone. I hope you’re the first non-dad to bring kids to the trip. You’re a staple for the group and we all hope you keep coming back for as long as the group exists. Kent, feed me her email and I’ll add her to the list directly… if it’s cool with you. You’re officially a “Dad” in our book.

  Darin: The man with the plan, the founder. I think I can speak for the whole group in saying we really appreciate how much work you put into making this all happen. We missed Zac but Matthew was killer as usual (at least for Ben and me. Screw those other guys!). Sunday night was key, eh? Make sure you don’t tell anyone. Well, I already told Kent but that’s cool, right? We’ll bring a separate pony keg just for the three of us that we can tap after all those other turds leave. We may need to fake packing up just so they don’t suspect anything. Really dude, you and Kent put on a great time and we all appreciate it.

  To those who couldn’t make it this year: You did get to avoid the brutal flies this year but weather and fellowship were unbelievable. I hope you can make it next year to add to the mayhem.

  The price increase this year was a bit of a test. I think for the first time we were able to cover the gas/oil completely. If everyone had showed up who expressed interest we would have gone over so I’m going to play with numbers next year to get closer. $50 was a not enough but $100 may be a bit high, depending on how many skis we have and how many dads show up. Stay tuned for my magical, Enron-style accounting report.

  Finally, I’d like to personally thank all of the dads and the kids who came along for the ride. Every year I sit back for a few moments, several times per day during the weekend just to soak in the joy and sense of discovery the kids demonstrate while we’re all together. I’m so thankful that we have such a tight group. I think it’s rare to have so many personalities in such close quarters without any measurable conflict. You all may be dirtbags but I’m thankful to be associated with all of you (except for Sanders, we gotta keep that guy down).

  Til next year!

  -tom

   
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  tom 1:03 pm on March 17, 2012 Permalink  

  Reading American Sniper With The Boy 

  I bought “American Sniper: The Autobiography of the Most Lethal Sniper in U.S. Military History” a few weeks ago and have been reading it with my boy a little bit most nights. Foul language in the right context doesn’t cause me a problem for Ben to experience but just to be clear, it exists and not in small amounts. I don’t think a Navy SEAL could express the horrors of war properly without such colorful terms.

  The author, Chris Kyle, doesn’t appear to have used a “ghost writer” and it shows. I don’t think I’d enjoy it as much if it had a Steinbeck tone to it. It feels straight from the heart. The sadness, excitement, fearlessness, disdain, hate and confusion all bleed through in his personal-esque delivery.

  My father and two of my brothers served in the military so at a minimum I have the “family” respect for military service. You might consider that it equates to deep respect for those who serve our country. It also heightens my intolerance for those in power who send our men and women into combat without a clear directive to “win”.

  If you decide to read the book you’ll discover the SEAL’s frustration for strict Rules of Engagement (ROE) which by his description causes loss of life for American forces, indecision and fear of prosecution. The enemy has no such rules. Not that we shouldn’t have *some* rules but what Kyle describes is sickening to me.

  Reading this book with my boy (and commenting along the way to him) I’m trying to pass along the notion that we must be extremely careful in how/when we deploy our precious troops to areas of conflict. The world has changed and we can’t afford to send them into harm’s way unless things are so bad that we unleash them with the full ability to win decisively. We must have the absolute will to win and shrug off the video bites we get back home that almost always paint our troops in a bad light. Yes, we have bad guys in the military and good guys who, after the horrors they experience do stupid things. But that’s the minority. That bad behavior should not cause us to tie the hands of the majority who are laying down their lives to protect us.

  I’ve read through Chris Kyle’s deployments to Fallujah and Ramadi; They are awe-inspiring, terrifying and beat me with a combination of extreme admiration and heart wrenching sadness. Kyle is unapologetic as he protects his “brothers”. He’s pompous at times (and don’t we want our SEALs to all think they’re the most bad-ass MoFo to get through BUD/S and beyond?) but gives respect where due. And then he seems helpless as he describes his fallen brothers, the illness of his child while he’s at war and the incredible burden his wife must bear. He is 100% human with experiences to both extremes and quite a lot in between. I think it’s more than most of us could ever dream of enduring.

  I question if it’s a little early to be reading this to Ben but I want to burn into his brain the consequences of our decision to go to war or not. War can be unavoidable but if we decide to go I hope Ben’s generation won’t hamstring our troops for the sake of political correctness.

  Whether you were “for” or “against” the actions in Iraq/Afghanistan, this book will give you an insight into what our troops go through when exposed to such things. Go buy the book, read it and let the stories simmer.

  Hugh McDonald and tom are discussing. Toggle Comments

   
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    Hugh McDonald 6:37 am on March 18, 2012 Permalink

    It seems to me that the policy issues which drive decisions about the use of military force are themselves framed by answers to questions concerning who we are as a people. Questions about our identity as a people (nation) necessarily come to others about who we are as individuals including, perhaps first of all, most importantly of all, the nature and source of our humanity. Following, in close order, will be others concerning our founding and history as a nation and our chartering documents (Declaration of Independence and the Constitution).

    So, I hope that your reading of “Sniper” to your son (why not your daughter as well?) will accompanied by discussions about who we are as individuals and as a nation. It is easy to say “No going to war without the clear objective of victory and the capacity/determination to achieve it”. The ability to do it depends greatly on the strength and nature of one’s understanding of ourselves and our nation.

    I’m going to buy the book.

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    tom 4:30 pm on March 18, 2012 Permalink

    I wish I could believe the decisions were made with the depth of consideration you describe but I don’t. They *should* but I don’t think they are. I’m a cynic and would love to be wrong.

    The reason why it has taken a few weeks to get through the first 300 pages is because I’m been giving commentary along the way. Hopefully I’m addressing the right things in the proper manner but as you know, you never know for sure until many years later.

    I’m not reading it to Abby because she has a different heart. I hope to send home a similar message but through other means. I gave Abby her first pocket knife before Ben and let her keep it in her room after some time. Ben has one but it stays in my room until he needs it. I guess it’s just different temperaments. I’m not terribly calculating but some things just make sense to me. And again, I may not know if I guessed right for many years, if ever. 🙂

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    Hugh McDonald 6:28 am on March 21, 2012 Permalink

    I bought the book – what has impressed the most, up to the point of Hell Week, is Kyle’s determination and preparation. I see those as keys to understanding the basis for his success. In a me serving way, they seem an affirmation of my claim that commitments to a goal should be supported by an understanding of the rationale behind the commitment.

    When your heart is good, your intentions well founded and your determination is strong, i don’t think it matters very much whether guesses are right or wrong – things tend to work out in the long run.

    Gotta get to work. Seem more energized lately and don’t want to waste the opportunity to get something done.