Yesterday was Matt’s birthday. He turned eight years old. We celebrated his day in the usual way, cake but no ice cream, and plenty of gifts. The kid wanted steak for dinner, so I let his Dad pick up the grocery bill for that one. If it’d been on my dime, we would have ordered pizza. What kid wants steak for his birthday dinner, anyway? Matt’s a lucky boy. It wasn’t so long ago he was waving to his Nana …Read the Rest
I was on a flight earlier this week, Phoenix to Dallas, on US Airways. I’m not sure why, but they put me up in First Class. Now, I haven’t flown on this airline for years, and even when I did, I was never frequent enough of a flier that I got to ride First Class. Maybe it’s because nobody wants to go to Dallas right now due to the subarctic temperatures. Or maybe because it was one of those little …Read the Rest
I really wanted to burn it. Seriously, what’s better than tossing a Christmas tree – seven days dry and brittle like a bone – onto a roaring bonfire? That’s right: nothing. That poor thing would have lit up like a six-foot long highway flare: snap, crackle, whoosh, and then gone, just like that. They would have seen the glow from Phoenix. But the Nordic Warrior Queen said no – it’s not safe. I tried to argue. What’s so unsafe about …Read the Rest
Well, it was bound to happen, I suppose. According to Family Radio, the world will end this year, 2011. Yep, mark your calendars, because on May 21st, the long-awaited Judgment Day begins, and all of us poor saps who haven’t been going to church on a regular basis (or at all) are in for some deep shit. The Great Rapture starts that day, which is good news for a few people, but those who don’t make the cut are going …Read the Rest
I have to admit that I’m embarrassed. For the past few weeks, I’ve been poking fun at the adverse weather currently being endured by my Northern cousins. I’ve taken rude shots at their climate, and made snide comments over the sub-arctic temperatures and snowfalls best measured in feet rather than inches, all while sitting here in my desert sunshine, smug in the knowledge that it couldn’t happen to me. For that, I apologize. That’s because…well….the worm has turned. Yesterday, we …Read the Rest
You should never, ever, go grocery shopping on Christmas Eve morning. Ever. Sadly, I already knew this, but when I woke up this morning with a terrible hankering for a maple long john, I decided to risk it. That, and the Nordic Warrior Queen needed some green onions for the dip. The grocery store parking lot was packed with enough cars to fill West Texas. It took me twenty minutes to find a parking spot, and as I got out of my car, was nearly run down …Read the Rest
Twenty-seven years ago today, I learned the true meaning of cold. That night we had temperatures of 22 below zero and a wind-chill of nearly 70 below: engine blocks cracked, water pipes and sewer mains burst, exposed flesh froze in seconds. It was damned cold. What was I doing that night? Why, I was starting cars in the parking lot of the Fairview Southdale Hospital in Edina, MN. That’s because my wife, the Nordic Warrior Queen, was giving birth …Read the Rest
Over the past few weeks, I’ve been worried. Christmas is coming, and I still haven’t found the perfect gift for the Nordic Warrior Queen. What do you buy for the woman you’ve spent the last thirty-two years of your life with? So a few days ago I decided it was time to do something different: to take drastic measures, do the unexpected, and get her something she would never think of, nor ever buy for herself. How about a wig? …Read the Rest
I don’t much like to wash cars. It’s one of the reasons I decided to leave Minnesota, my home of nearly forty years, and move to Arizona. I figured that in the desert Southwest, it never snows, and rains but once or twice a year, so I’d hardly ever have to wash a car again. So one day I quit my job, sold the house, took the kids out of school, packed up all our shit, and told my wife …Read the Rest
I was worried about my sperm count, that’s why I bought the thing. That, and it was damn uncomfortable. One never knows when your wife of thirty years is going to finally grow weary of your shit and send you packing (especially when she’s a Nordic Warrior Queen) and you might have need of the swimmers again. But don’t tell her I’m think about things like this. She might worry. It’s like this: I write a lot, especially at …Read the Rest