So … just thinking about thinking about a food event with TDHG was enough to make it happen.

I can only assume The Force is stronger in me than I could have ever hoped.

Just so you know I'm now focusing on having something good happen to each and every WADLL reader. When that thing happens, this coming week or shortly thereafter, I want you to think of me.

(Mom, Dad, I'll be calling later today, that's the good thing that'll be happening to you. If the two of you do anything involving sour creme — make that any creme that doesn't start "Dentu," — I don't want to know about it and I had nothing to do with it.)

*Yes, I know. Saying SLOG Goals is like saying ATM Machine or PIN Number.

(By the way, mom and dad have their own teeth and would not need denture cleanser.)

Posted by delmer at 12:00 AM | Comments (4)

April 23, 2007

Spin City

I'm really not bitching here, just making an observation.

I put 25 miles on The Mighty Schwinn tonight. It was incredibly windy, and I only mention that because a guy I work with keeps commenting on what a die hard I must be to cycle when it's windy. This same guy spends 40-minutes at a time on a trainer which is an activity that I think would kill me after 10 minutes. And that, I think, makes him more of a die hard. (I'd rather ride 4-hours in a hurricaine than spend 10 minutes on a trainer.)

Hey, before I get to the non-bitch, I want to point out two things that happened on my trip home from Grove City the other day.

1. A couple of girls in a convertible honked at me and that is always entertaining. As they looked back and waved I could tell that I could easily be their father; they looked to be about twenty. As much as I enjoy typing that girls in a convertible honked at me, I'd honestly rather not have anybody honk at me. It's sort of startling.

2. As I pedaled up Trueman Blvd. I saw a kid on a bike coming toward me on the sidewalk. He looked to be about 10 or 12. As we neared each other he looked my way, made a fist and said, "Yea … bike riders!" like we were in the same club or something. It cracked me up.

Now we're back to tonight.

I was 15-miles into my ride and pedaling up Davidson Road with the wind at my back. As I approached a light it turned yellow and I slowed as I wasn't about to be through it before it turned red. I'd been doing about 24 mph.

As I braked two guys on bikes shot by me and ran the red light.

I am not the bicycle police, and it really isn't my business, but I am a fan of obeying traffic laws. I think it makes people in autos less angry when they come upon a cyclist. The guys who ran the light were going to be going up a hill and they were going to be front of the traffic that had been in the left turn lane at the cross street of the light they'd just gone through.

Was that clear enough? The guys ran the light. They were headed up a hill with a narrow overpass at the top. The drivers that were going to be behind them, and slowed by them, would have seen them run the light and would be filled with thoughts like:If those assholes hadn't run that light I wouldn't be stuck behind them now! If bicyclists are going to be on the road they should obey the traffic laws like the rest of us have to. They think they own the road!

Like I said, I wasn't really all that concerned as it was none of my business. I must confess, though, I was a bit disappointed by their actions.

As the second rider passed beneath the red light I heard a noise. It sounded like a thin cable that had been under tension snapped and I thought the guy had run over something. And maybe he had. I know that his tire went immediately flat — not like a slow leak, but like an immediate, severe, loss of air.

The duo stopped to fix the tire.

You've seen the oddball things I cycle in so I'd never pick on another person's choice in cycling attire. Let's suppose, though, that some guys were going to come by for a group ride and one of them showed up wearing the same jersey and shorts I had on. I'd change.

Just because it would be too weird.

The two scofflaws were dressed the same. They had the same jerseys and shorts on. When I came up behind them I thought they were a married couple — which would have made the whole thing kind of cute. When I passed them I noticed it was a couple of guys in their 20s. And it isn't like their jerseys said Phonak or Discovery Chanel or United States Postal Service on them. They were Tecate Jerseys the guys had bought from a cycling shop.

I guess there's a chance they could have been a gay couple, which would make the matching outfits a cute thing. I'll have to check with my gay friends to see if cycling is big in the gay community. I only hope I'm not asked if one of the guys was pedaling funny; I wasn't paying that kind of attention to the situation.

I really don't think gay people run red lights.

Posted by delmer at 11:21 PM | Comments (3)

April 5, 2007

Everybody Wang Chung Tonight

Whenever I think of music videos the one that always comes to mind is Don't You Want Me by The Human League. I don't know why, it isn't like it's the first video I ever saw on MTV and it isn't my favorite song from the era. But it is the video that usually comes to mind.

During the week VH1 Classics runs something called The Morning Video Block. It may run on the weekend too, I'm not sure. I just know it's on at 7 a.m. when I get up on school days and I'll turn it on if I'm able to get to the TV before Sponge Bob fills the room.

As I watched VH1 Classics today a video started with two guys sitting on a park bench. In about two seconds I said aloud, as I knew it would impress my kids, "AEIOU and Sometimes Y." A few seconds later the title popped up proving I was correct. My kids were not as impressed as I thought they'd be and seemed to be almost ignoring my super-ability of being able to identify videos I hadn't seen in more than 20 years — so I asked if anybody wanted to go to McDonald's for breakfast before they totally zoned on me. That got their attention.

The song was by EBN OZN, and when I read the band's(?) name I thought of my buddy Roy as I could actually recall him at one time mentioning the band (his super-ability was knowing band names regardless of the obscurity of the band or how unband-like two guys sort of singing might be).

The next video that played was Don't You Want Me. I was in heaven.

I was certain the only thing that could make the morning any better would be an Egg McMuffin.

[One of the videos that came on was something called Buffalo Gals by Marshall McLaren. What a piece of trash. I could have appreciated an 80's spin on the traditional Buffalo Gals song but this was just a guy in a goofy hat repeating variations of the same line over and over. Maybe Marshall went on to record hit after ass-kicking hit. I'll bet Roy would know.]

Posted by delmer at 8:37 PM | Comments (1)

April 1, 2007

State of the Blog Address: March 07

I wish I had a really good April Fool's Joke, but I don't. So today you will get State of the Blog Address. And only that portion that involves search key phrases.

Despite some of the crap that appears here I really prefer to think of myself as a helper. Actually, I guess, I prefer to think I'm funny and then a helper. I know I'm not always funny but, in my defense, I'm not always trying to be funny. In my undefense some things I type that I thought were funny when I typed them I'll reread and then groan at.

Have I ever mentioned that I used to volunteer in a shelter for the homeless? That was a part-time gig and at the same time my primary job was working with people that had disabilities helping them to find and keep jobs? Prior to that I worked at an advocacy organization that worked to help feed less-fortunate Ohioans.

That's all helperish and I don't remember making too many jokes about body parts or body functions at any of those jobs. And I was younger and, you'd think, less mature back then. I remind myself about those days when I think to myself that I don't do enough volunteering now.

(You know, when you work at a homeless shelter you are never alone when you're downtown. I was always running into residents who were out and about.)

I don't know what's wrong with me today. I seem to be having a small bout of wondering what exaxtly I'm doing to make the world a better place. I don't crush kittens … that's got to be something. Of course, I don't know if that makes the world a better place; it's not like we've got a shortage of kittens or anything.

I've sort of drifted. Let's get back to the blog and how it has helped people this past month via search key phrases:

delmer creme: Finally, somebody has bottled and marketed me allowing you to have a little bit of Delmer slathered on yourself just before bedtime each night. Admittedly, reviews are mixed on this product and it is my experience that application on redheads leads them to eventually say impolite things (eg. "We need to have a talk" and "I've gotten an attorney."). Blondes and brunettes do not always suffer from the same ill effects. Assuming you have less un-waxed body hair than I have, and for an additional fee, I'll be glad to stop by and slather Delmer Creme on you in person. Also, if you live close by, have the body-hair thing in order, aren't one to look too closely at bottles, and aren't one to be put off by the fact that Delmer Creme smells a lot like Johnson's Baby Oil (and is more oily than creamy), I can probably be there within thirty minutes. Please let me know what your additional fee is.

[Speaking of redheads, and breaking from the weak-ass theme we've sort of got going on here, does anybody else want to see Lily from How I Met Your Mother, go back to being a redhead? Or is it just me?]

diy bike rack: This hit comes up month after month. I assume I've saved almost tens of people twentys of dollars.Which, of course, means that WADLL has more than paid for itself. This is the bike rack I made.

poop diarrhea bong: I'm not sure how this resolves itself to WADLL, but in keeping with the Helper theme of this entry, I'll provide this link.

public defenders and ethics: If you are an Ohioan you can end your search here. It has been my experience the Ohio Public Defender's Office is sorely lacking when it comes to anything resembling ethics especially as applied to murder cases. That has also been the experience of several of the state's major newspapers.

things to look out for in dating: I am of the mind that women are the primary thing you should look out for in dating. Firstly, if you are looking for someone to date, a woman is typically a good choice. Secondly, after you start dating you'll need to look out for them as you'll find they are all a little bit psycho — at least the good ones are; the bad ones are stark raving mad. [Your mileage may vary based on your gender and sexual preference.]

what should fecal matter look like: shit

naked in school dream: Science has shown that people who have this dream are typically smarter and better looking than average. They can also jump higher and run faster than most of the rest of the population. Their only weakness is gullibility.

courtney thorne smith nipples: Two.

my compression sock is too long : Are you a man? Are you putting it on a leg?

do boys like monster trucks: HELL YES!

i got gyno from testosterone: I will bet you that this person was on Testosterone Replacement Therapy (Androgel, for example) or he is a body builder injecting and that aromatization led to the conversion of Testosterone to Estrogen which led to gyno.

pelvic exam blog: Who would have ever thought there'd be a whole blog devoted to pelvic exams? Please reserve a place in your Blog Rolls and Favorites for Delmer's Prostate Exam Blog that I hope to have up and running as soon as I get over this feeling of having to pee all the time.

delmer & wendy: ... were the popular steadies and the king and the queen of the prom. Driving around with the car top down and the radio on. Nobody looked any finer, or was more of a hit at the Parkway diner …

courtney thorne-smith breasts: Two. One behind each nipple.

butt cheek hurts: My right butt cheek hurt and was actually waking me up in the night. The last time I had the pain was a couple of days before I saw my doctor. As it happens there is a medical condition that can lead to this, or something like this, though I didn't have all the symptoms. A week after mentioning it to the doc I was on The Mighty Schwinn and it was then I noticed that a hard spot on my seat was hitting me right on the sore spot of my butt cheek. In my defense, I rode over 1000 miles last year and never had a problem. I seemed to have sat on the seat wrong sometime in late November and bruised something. Well, my ass.

patricia heaton breasts: Please refer to Courtney Thorne-Smith Breasts above.

courtney thorne-smith boobs: WADLL must disappoint quite a few people.

what are the odds of getting a pituitary tumor: About 20% of the population, based on autopsy evidence, have pituitary tumors. The odds of a tumor causing a problem for you are relatively small.

what s a condom look like?: Nothing at all like a compression sock.

balls my tongue chute his ass hole shit: I don't know what I typed to make this search string return WADLL as a hit.

tongue disease: Right now I can think of only one thing that might lead to tongue disease.

rubel rye bread: Yea. Someone else remembers Rubel's Rye Bread.

women with big feet: Hmmm. What? Buy big diaphragms?

worst places in sedalia mo for allergies: I didn't notice any allergens in the Sedalia Police Station.

how does a boner look?: Blank stare. Big ears. Can't say 'nuclear.'

A lot of hits involve pituitary tumors, Androgel, gyno, cabergoline, bromocriptine, Dostinex and other hormone-problem-related things. These hits make me hope that I was clear and informative when I related my experiences. The Low Testosterone and Hormones categories will bring up a list of relevant blog entries.

Posted by delmer at 8:21 AM | Comments (5)

March 7, 2007

Clean the Sheets

There is only one good thing that comes from a really bad itch: when you are in the shower you can blast the itchy area with hot water -- water that is hotter than you could normally stand -- and it feels so incredibly good. The more tender the areas you are blasting the better it feels. And you can use water that is so hot that even as your body is telling you that you are in the middle of one of the best things going your mind is telling you while this feels pretty good, you may be scalding yourself ... it's not like you're a doctor or anything. Maybe you should back off. That's "back," with a "b."

I've been aware of this trick for years. I've had poison ivy numerous times, poison something so bad on both of my wrists (where the gloves and shirt failed to meet) about 14 years ago that I thought it would never heal, and several things after that and before whatever it is I've got going on now. The hot-water trick has never failed me and alone is worth the purchase of a hand-held shower massager.

And what it is I've got going on now? Yesterday, and for several days before that, I thought it was dry skin.

However, I wasn't sure that explained the bumps I found on my back -- the bumps that are hard to see due to their location -- the bumps that itch -- the bumps that have been identified by three out of three boys as "bumps."

Dry skin made sense to me until this afternoon. Today I started thinking about my history of itching and how dry skin might fit in.

As for my history of itching, it normally involved a skin irritant -- something I was allergic to like poison ivy or poison oak. Well, once, a brunette in Massachusetts.

Dry skin had never led to itching like I'm having and I haven't been to New England in over a decade, so a skin irritant was starting to look pretty good.

I thought back to when the itching started and it seemed like it had been waking me up in the night for about a week. Or right about the time I cleaned my sheets using a detergent I've used before but that the company had added a special bonus good-smelling feature too. Sure, I'd been washing my clothes in it for a couple of weeks but I'd typically strip out of them and into a pair of unwashed-for-months sweats as soon as I got home from work. Maybe laying on the sheets for eight hours at a time pushed me over the edge.

Tonight Sammo and I made the big trip to Target for some Tide Free (and I paid less than you'll see at that link).

I'm currently in the middle of cleaning my sheets for the second time in two weeks. Which many of you, women mostly, will consider to be just about right.

I am a guy, however, and twice in two weeks seems to be pushing it a bit. This doesn't make me the dirty pig you might think as I have a really big bed and will sleep on one side until I think it's time to flip the mattress or clean the sheets. I'll then sleep on the other side until I think it's time to clean the sheets or flip the mattress. This way I cut my mattress flipping and sheet cleaning in half.

Naturally, if I expect to do any entertaining I'll clean the sheets that morning.

If I expect to entertain brunettes from New England I'll clean the sheets and put the Orkin man on speed dial.

Posted by delmer at 12:05 AM | Comments (2)

March 4, 2007

Courtney makes the cut

Good news everybody. Well, good news for me anyway.

Last night I managed to work Courtney Thorne-Smith into the dream rotation. Now I've just got to get Patricia Heaton and Jamie Gertz in there somehow and I'll be ready to start working on getting the gals to appear as parts of threesomes.

Of course, if the threesomes go the way of the other dreams I've had I'll end up with Patricia Heaton changing the oil in my car while Jamie Gertz sits next to me in the Jiffy Lube clipping her nails.

In the dream I had last night Courtney Thorne-Smith walked up to me and something led to me giving her a hug. It was then that I noticed she was really really tall. I mean, she had to be about 10 feet tall. During the hug her breasts (and I say breasts as I'm not sure how to work bossum in. Is it bossum? Or bossums. Is a bossum a single breast ... or the set? I know rack is the set. So is hooters, but there's an 's' there that gives it away. Knockers. Headlights. Kazongas. But -- you have boob/boobie vs. boobs/boobies).

So, the knockers were resting on my head. I'm 6'4" tall. If the bottom of her breasts were at the top of my head .... Hmm. Where do the breasts start on a woman? You know, I'm going to be a lot better at figuring this out than other men because I know that about 1/4 of the woman exists above the breasts. A lot of men don't know that which leads to them wondering where that noise -- the one that almost sounds like "My eyes are up here, asshole" -- could be coming from.

Okay, 75% of the way up Courtney Thorne-Smith was 6 feet 4 inches or 76 inches. We'll pretend that it was 75 inches for the sake of easy math and add an inch later and call it close enough. If 75% equals 75 inches then 100% equals 100 inches. Add one and we end up with a 101-inch tall Courtney Thorne-Smith. Or 8 feet 5 inches tall; not quite the 10 feet I'd guessed.)

None of the above math takes into consideration age-related lack of perkiness. She might have been a little taller in the dream. I do recall that in the dream everything felt perky enough.

(In the interest of science I just ran to the garage and got a tape measure. I'm 76 inches tall and my nipples are about 56 inches from the floor -- or about 3/4 the way up me.)

Posted by delmer at 7:07 PM | Comments (0)

February 18, 2007

No Fear

A friend of used to refuse to order mushrooms on his pizza. He liked mushrooms, he was just afraid he was going to get a poison one that would either make him sick or kill him. This is one of those thoughts that I put in the category of irrational fears.

We all have them. A woman friend of mine used to have a fear that -- and this is a complicated one, so I'm not sure that I'll get it all right -- but that she'd be locked in a closet and somehow a tidal wave would come by and she'd be unable to get away from it. As irrational as this sounds she would later add a curling iron to the fear that actually made it worse and more irrational.

I don't know if this next thing falls into the irrational fear category but, for as long as I can remember, before drying off after a shower I'll give the towel a shake -- just in case a spider is on it somewhere. Wet or not, I don't want to be rubbing a spider on me. Especially one of those hairy ones.

If you're laughing at this you can stop.

Last week I gave the towel a shake, and a spider hit the floor.

Which, I think, puts this fear into the rational fear category ... even if being worried about spiders isn't terribly manly.

Posted by delmer at 6:54 PM | Comments (5)

February 14, 2007

A weather update

Do you remember the memory I had about a previous mild December? Anyway ...

Just after they tossed us out of work yesterday it quit snowing -- and little ice balls started coming down. I'd hesitate to call it sleet as it didn't have the unfriendly feel I normally associate with sleet. Later in the night snow returned and continues this morning.

Franklin County is currently under a Level 2 Snow Emergency which means we're discouraged from driving and people should call before heading to work. What this means is that the roads are pretty wide open and that the people that are on them have the confidence needed to get to work without causing too many problems. You and I, as I'm sure you are aware, have superior driving skills (mine are just a bit better than yours, probably because it's my blog and I say so) and I imagine you hate getting stuck behind idiots who have no business on the road when the weather is anything but sunny and dry. There are times when Franklin County should declare a Level 2 Heavy Dew Emergency. Not only does it rhyme, but it would serve to keep goofballs off the road and putting around at 20 mph (-3 kph) until the dew burned off enabling the rest of us to get to work in a less stressful environment.

Before I go any further, let me say I'm not advocating ripping up and down the road at 60 mph (roughly 100 kph) on snow and ice-covered roads. but there are times when scooting along at 15 mph when conditions would easily accommodate something a good deal faster is doing more harm than good.

I suspect pulling out short in front of someone who is tooling along at almost 30 (on straight-as-an-arrow) roads instead of waiting for him and his really sweet minivan to pass because there is nobody at all behind him is always a bad idea. I further suspect this occurred to the guy who did it to me yesterday about 1/2 way through his maneuver when her realized the lack of traction was not going to give him the out-of-the-box acceleration he needed and that he was going to more-or-less limp out in front from me. Of course, maybe the guy's a total idiot and that thought never dawned on him.

It looks like we've had about 6 inches of snow in this area. Port Columbus Airport reported four inches at 1 a.m. last night, other areas were reporting more. Six inches is about average probably. Which, for the women readers out there, is just a bit deeper than you've been led to believe since you've started dating.

When I lived in New Hampshire we were getting snow 17 inches at a time. I recall the weatherman saying snowfall would be between 7 and 17 inches and thinking, "Heck, I could make that kind of forecast." Ten inches is a pretty wide range after all. I elevated the weatherguy from mere weatherman to weathergod when folks near the ocean got seven inches and we, further inland, got 17. One of the weather phenomena they'd have in New England was something called a "Nor Easter," which is pronounced as you would expect in the following sentence: "The heathen hordes recognize neither Good Friday nor Easter." It describes a cold and serious winter storm; if the storm is brining with it a lot of snow they call the whole weather system a "Ron Jeremy," though I've always thought "Peter North" would be a better moniker, what with having a direction in the name and all.

Oh, my mom called this morning to remind me to not go out in the cold barefoot. She's concerned that I could slip on the ice, knock myself out, and get serious frostbite before anybody finds me. Just as one little voice inside my head (even as it appreciated the concern my mother had for me) thought the whole idea was pretty absurd, another little voice was reminding me that her concern wasn't much different from that which I have for my children; I always tell them to not do anything as simple as make a peanut butter sandwich if I'm not home -- I'm afraid they'll give themselves a serious cut with the butter knife they'd use.

These photos are from the front of the building today. It was sort of windy and I really didn't care to venture too far out into the lot; I didn't feel like taking my shoes off.

Posted by delmer at 8:48 AM | Comments (2)

February 13, 2007

Look ma, bare feet

OK, not exactly Columbo-like sleuthing, but she didn't need to be Columbo in that case. Another conversation went something like this:

(Do I really need to explain who said what there? I'll let you make use of some of your sleuthing skills.)

You know, the house was spotless when they came home from vacation ... I'd just made one mistake ... one involving a vacuum. At least it wasn't this one.

Moving back to present day.

Word around the office is we're expecting 6 to 10 inches of snow. I just popped over to one of the news stations and they're saying "up to a foot in areas north of Dayton." Dayton is an hour west.

This morning I decided to let the minivan warm up while I got ready for work. I was wet, having just come out of the shower, and was trying to make the best use of my time. I figured the van could warm up while I was getting dressed and spending 20 minutes trying to get my contacts in. (I put the left on in almost immediately -- and it was backwards and hurt a fair bit. I removed it (which is always harder when they're in backwards), flipped it inside out, and put it in again. Once again, backwards. Third time was a charm.)

From the door to the minivan isn't all that far and I considered running out in my underwear. Who was likely to see me at 6:30 a.m.? Who was likely to believe it if they saw it? But really, I'm too old to do crap like that.

And then I started feeling sort of selfish. Sure, I may be too old to do crap like that, but what about my mom. She's older. And with her oldness, being a woman and all, has come years of wisdom and just general smartness. And who does she have to share that wisdom with? Mostly just dad, and in all fairness, he's pretty smart too -- about as smart as a male can get -- so there are just one or two things she's likely to be able to tell him.

Me? I've got years to go before I'm full of wisdom or just generally wise up. So why not give mom a chance to share some of her wisdom and do some basic momming? She probably misses it -- I know I miss being a dad when my boys aren't around (and I'm not eating pizza off my belly) and I have them every other week.

So, this is for you mom. Please feel free to call and tell me to bundle up.

Posted by delmer at 7:36 AM | Comments (5)

February 12, 2007

Vista Upgrade

A comment at Blogography led me to this French video promoting Vista.

Do you need Vista? I don't know.

I do know that most people probably won't understand a lot of the features in the operating system. And, since they're not going to understand them anyway, why not have a hot, French girl telling you all about them.

I know what you're thinking, but Delmer, your bilingualness is legendary. Of course you are going to like an add with a hot, French girl in it.

Assuming that readership is split evenly among men and women, I'm guessing that 50% of WADLL readers will like the add as well.

Posted by delmer at 5:22 PM | Comments (3)

November 26, 2006

June 9, 1980

Way back in 1980 a couple of friends and I had a running joke involving the number 69. It is probably worth noting that the two friends were female. I'm not really sure why that's important to me -- the friends were just friends and this was way back before the friends-with-benefits days.

Maybe it's because, at one point, we baked a cake together and I don't want you to think that I got together with a couple of guy friends and baked a cake. Oddly enough, my guy friends and I used to get together quite a bit and play basketball and, while there was never any cake baking going on, there was a fair amount of nice-shot butt slapping going on.

The point being, there was a lot more touching with the guy friends than the female friends. But, no joking about 69.

I don't remember all the jokes.

What I do remember is baking a cake in the shape of 69 for the anniversary of one of the girl's parents. It wasn't their 69th anniversary, but we thought it would be funny. We took a heart-shaped cake pan and baked a cake. We then cut the cake in half and flipped part of the cake over and did some carving to make the 69.

One day I noticed that several items that had just come from the supermarket had 69-cent stickers on them and suggested it might be fun to make a 69 collage. I pulled one of the stickers off a loaf of bread and turned it over to write the date on the back; I figured since it was the first sticker I'd date it so we'd know when the quest to make the 69 collage started.

"What's the date?" I asked.

"June ..." started one of the gals, and I wrote '6.'

"Ninth." she finished, and I wrote '9.'

It was as if a higher power had been directing us to start the collage that day.

Or maybe it was coincidence.

We never finished the collage but I've never forgotten the cake nor the date thing keeping both memories way back in one of the unused and dark corners of my mind.

Just a few moments ago the lights in that corner were turned on when I went to The Gematriculator to check on the Good / Evil rating of What's a Delmer Look Like.

When I saw that the Gematriculator currently had me at 69% good I thought to myself, "Well, sit on my ..." "Well, whattaya know. I'm 7% less evil than I was last time I checked."

Not bad.

And yet, I guess, overall it's still a D.



Is anybody else surprised by the following?

Ted Nugent is less evil than I am?

Posted by delmer at 12:09 AM | Comments (2)

July 8, 2006

Turkey

While in New Jersey a couple weeks ago my buddy's son suggested we go bowling. So off we went.

I had not bowled in 20 years or more and the last time I'd bowled I wore a size 12 or 13 shoe. The shoe size is important only because there are more people wearing that size so the shoes are one more feet and more lanes more often and the shoe bottoms glide better on the lane surface due to having more wear.

At least that's what I think. What I know is that my shoes -- size 14 -- looked almost brand new and they'd stick during my delivery.

During the first frame I picked up my ball with loose-fitting finger holes and approached the pins. As I started my delivery I said, "I haven't bowled in 20 years." I released the ball as the shoe stuck a bit ... and I got a strike. An impressive pro-bowler one -- the pins exploded; they had to close the lanes on either side to clean up the pin shrapnel.

My second ball ... another strike.

During my third delivery I brought my arm across my body funny and while it had the right spin it was obviously not going to hit the pocket. That is, until it kissed the rail (yes, we were using bumpers) and shot back between the 1 and 2 pins for strike number three.

The automatic scorer had no idea that the ball was originally on its way to the gutter and gave me a turkey. And, I may have had enough spin to keep it out of the gutter without the bumper. That's what I tell myself.

It really doesn't matter.

What does matter is that the next day -- or maybe that evening -- I was sitting in my buddy's sun room when I caught motion out of the corner of my eye. A mobster was dumping a body in my buddy's backyard.

No. Two Wild Turkeys were walking through the backyard. (And a Captain Morgan.)

By the time I'd gotten my camera ready the turkeys had moved into the neighbor's yard and the shot I had at a photo was less than perfect.

In the interest of honesty and clarification: After further reflection it occurred to me that I had bowled about 5 years ago. Also, while I bowl right-handed my ball travels down the lane from left to right with a clockwise spin; I've never been able to throw a ball the other way.

Posted by delmer at 9:43 AM | Comments (0)

July 4, 2006

Delmer Wells' Day Off

If you read today's earlier entry you'll see that I've got a weather permitting in there.

Current weather conditions are:

As thunderstorms go this is a pretty pleasant one. The wind isn't blowing so hard that rain came in my bedroom windows and the temp is pretty pleasant. We have the Baby Bear version of thunder and lightening out there: it's just right. We periodically get electrical storms here that can be described as nothing short of impressive.

On the map below you'll see Columbus in the center. To the south you'll see some yellow that denotes heavier storms. Hilliard is just a bit to the north and west of Columbus and you can see that the storms have sort of passed through. Using a much-less scientific method -- looking out the window -- I can verify that the storm has settled down to a light rain.

If I wanted to piddle with this some more I'd eventually get up some better radar photos that show that the current heavy storm has just moved away from us but that a new heavy storm may appear later.

But ... but ... but.

I really need to get to Mel's for breakfast. A parade may or may not start in about 30 minutes and I'd really like to get across the street before they close it off.

Ferris Bueller may have little trouble crossing parade routes -- the rest of us, I'm not so sure.

Posted by delmer at 9:40 AM | Comments (0)

November 23, 2005

What's in Store

You can't go to a movie these days without seeing 20 minutes of coming attractions. And, unfortunately some commercials. Maybe a PSA or two.

With that thought in mind the following are the coming attractions for What's a Delmer Look Like. These will all be Christmas-time, Hanukkah-time, and Kwanza-time releases.

Coming Attractions

Delmer and the Beer Bong: In a disco that time forgot. A man who drinks by his own set of rules ...

The Idiot and the Softball Game: The true account of one of the two people in this world I just don't care much for and how having to be a hero screwed his softball team. (When I say "people in this world I don't care for" I don't mean one of the two individuals I'd kill if I knew I could get away with it. That list is just a bit longer; oddly enough I don't really dislike those people as much as I do the clown this story is about and, of course, the other clown; they just really need to die.)

We know garbage ... it's the collection part we're fuzzy on: The story of one man's struggle to get Rumpke to pick up his trash.

It should ship tomorrow or the next day: The story of one man's struggle to get a notebook computer back from HP.

These are but a sampling of things you can expect over the course of the next six weeks. I know what you're thinking. Christmas (Hanukkah ... Kwanza) keeps getting better and better.

The Commercial

What's a Delmer Look Like is like PBS or NPR. A little-bit liberal and commercial free. There are no pledge drives.

The PSA

You know him. You love him. You want to take him home and have him work on your stairs. Now you can let him know how much joy he has brought to you.

Big D is turning 70 this coming December 23rd.

I am encouraging readers of What's a Delmer Look Like to send him a birthday card. I'll post the address after Thanksgiving.

Posted by delmer at 9:29 AM | Comments (2)

November 17, 2005

Dreams

Back in 1984 I had a new Suzuki GS650. It was a little small for my frame and I decided I'd rather have the 750.

As an aside, these bikes looked big to me. The 850 at the time was in the same frame as the 1000 (or 1100, whatever it was back then). I currently own a 1981 GS850L and cannot believe how small it looks by today's standards.

Anyway, I wanted a 750, but couldn't justify having two motorcycles. I needed to get rid of the 650 first.

An acquaintance, who owned a service station, offered to buy the 650 from me. He was a guy I knew well enough though he was technically a friend of a friend.

I sold him the 650.

Shortly after this I was canoing down the Little Miami River with a bunch of friends. A fly bit me on the finger. The finger, in an uncharacteristic move for parts of my body outside a soccer-ball sized portion of my midsection -- swelled up a good bit.

For the next three nights my dreams came true. I'm not saying the fly bite was the cause -- but it is the only thing that happened that had a different feel to it.

That night I dreamed I was at the acquaintance's service station. It was daytime and one of my Thug Friends and I were visiting Bob. As I looked around the station I couldn't find the motorcycle I'd sold him.

"Hey Bob, I asked, "where's the motorcycle I sold you?"

Bob got an embarrassed look on his face and said, "Ted and I just bought that so we could resell it and make some money."

In my dream I was livid. I felt like a friend an taken advantage of me.

I woke up. Days and days passed.

My Thug friend and I went to Bob's service station to visit. While we were there I looked around for the motorcycle and couldn't find it.

"Hey Bob, I asked, "where's the motorcycle I sold you?"

Bob got an embarrassed look on his face and said, "Ted and I just bought that so we could resell it and make some money."

I said, "You're not going to believe this but I had this exact, same dream."

And it would seem I'd worked through my anger in the dream as I didn't get upset at all.

I cannot for the life of me remember the second dream that came true.

The third night is sort of a weak connection. I dreamed a female friend of mine was going on a date with a guy and that she was going to have a bad time. But really, I knew the guy. So I don't know how premonition-like it was versus familiarity with the person.

(About a month later I was in the hospital with FUO. I've always thought the fly bite played a role in this somehow. And, giving what the docs were able to find out, it's as good a guess as any.)

I knew the dreams-coming-true reign of fun was over the fourth night ... I dreamed the Swedish Bikini Team dragged me off into the woods and had their way with me.

Posted by delmer at 7:32 AM | Comments (1)

November 7, 2005

My First Pelvic Exam

Well, if the title wasn't enough of a warning I'll be a bit more clear here. This post is about a pelvic exam. One I happened to experience.

Rebecca was pregnant with our first child. We'd gone to see the doctor for a pre-natal visit and when Rebecca's name was called I went back with her. I'm a liberated, supportive man, and I needed to know what was going on.

We sat down for a few moments and talked. The doctor eventually asked Rebecca to lay back on the table and put her feet in the stirrups.

I wasn't worried. Nothing was going to happen yet. I hadn't been excused from the room.

The doctor drew the curtain around the three of us. I thought, "Oh my god! He's forgotten I'm here."

He lifted the gown and took a peek under the hood. He then turned to me and said, very casually, "Mr. Wells. Come take a look at this."

He had not forgotten I was in the room after all.

In keeping with the most-of-the-time-mostly-family-orientedness of this blog I won't go into too many details. Let me just say that an extra long Q-Tip (with a wooden shaft) and some poking was involved. Also some agreeable "mmmhhmm" 's on my part.

I seemed to be the only one in the room that thought this was out of the ordinary.

Guys, can you imagine going to the doctor and having him yell out into the waiting room, "Mrs. Smith! We're going to check your husband's prostate now. Could you step back to the examination room. We've got a glove in the freezer for you."

It just wouldn't happen.

Not without some sort of admission fee anyway.

Posted by delmer at 6:06 PM | Comments (2)

November 6, 2005

I'm getting a new General Practicioner

Tuesday at 8:30 a.m. I am meeting with a new General Practitioner. My old GP, Dr. Su (I believe Steely Dan wrote a song about him) moved a while back. He sent me a card telling me he moved and I tucked it away for when I might need to go to the doctor. Well, I wanted to get a physical by the end of the year -- but I lost the card. I can't find the doc in the phone book. And, I'm guessing he's moved his office, once again, farther from where I live. I think he's been my GP for about 15 years.

When I was at my Endocrinologist's I asked one of the office gals if they could recommend a GP. The gal in charge suggested the new person. The office gal said, "You'll like her. She's cute."

Well, cute isn't really what I'm looking for in a new doctor. I'm more concerned about knuckle size as I'm certain that at some point the new doc will gain tactile familiarity with my prostate. I'm going to take a long, hard look at her hands when I meet her. I'll just assume she has breasts and pleasant features.

Posted by delmer at 9:01 PM | Comments (2)

November 4, 2005

Everybody Loves French

I was just watching a rerun of Everybody Love Raymond. In this episode Ray's daughter, Allie, is having trouble in math class and is blaming her problem on the teacher.

Ray, in taking up for her, recalls the trouble he had with his French teacher and went on about the stupid dialogs they had to do. He gave the example of, "Ou est Sylvie?"

I knew the answer: "A la piscine."

A second later Ray gave the same answer. The French lesson stopped there, but as I recall the rest was:

"Avec Edith ou avec Claudine?"

"Avec Edith."

The spelling and punctuation may be wrong. After all, ninth-grade French was a long time ago.

It seems, however, that one of the writers of Everybody Loves Raymond had the same beginning French book I had.

Michelle, Anne. Vous travailliez?

Eu, non. Nous regardons la television. Pourqouoi?

Les Duponts arrive dans une heure. Il y a beaucoup a faire.

Bon. Anne prepare le dessert. Moi, je goute..

I've probably butchered that one beyond any form of recognition.

Posted by delmer at 9:38 PM | Comments (3)

Domain Transfers

You know, if you transfer a domain from one host to another, and you forget to do anything with the DNS records sometimes things quit working.

When The Boys' pictures are back and The Granny Gallery picture is back you'll know that the recent changes I've made have propagated across the Internet.

Those of you more attuned to things like this will likely feel a shift in The Force.

(Yes, I could change the HTML to fix things now ... but really ... what's the fun in that?)

Posted by delmer at 3:00 PM | Comments (0)

October 13, 2005

My buddy's wife said this

Last night I went to MicroCenter to help a friend, Paul, find a PC. Despite my protestations he insisted on buying dinner after the shopping spree to show appreciation for my time and assistance.

As we drove he asked where I'd like to eat. I jokingly suggested Columbus Gold. (And, honest to goodness, until I created that link to Columbus Gold I thought it was sort of like a more risqué Hooters. A place where scantily clad and possibly topless women served food. After visiting their site I'm not sure they serve food at all. I talk a good porn story, but when it comes to genuine knowledge I'm a bit naive.)

We opted for pizza at Iaconos.

When we returned to Paul's he told his wife, "Delmer suggested that we go to Columbus Gold for dinner but we thought better of it."

Without missing a beat and with genuine sincerity in her voice his wife said, "Have you seen the titty bar at night? It's so pretty with the pink lights and..."

What?! Titty bar? Women say things like that?

Of course had I known at the time that Columbus Gold wasn't a restaurant of some sort maybe I wouldn't have been as surprised.

Based solely on the pictures on their website the inside of Columbus Gold might be kind of pretty too. I'm assuming there's some spotlights. Maybe some brass.

Posted by delmer at 12:08 AM | Comments (2)

October 12, 2005

Job Predictor

While reading Professional Lurker I stumbled across Job Predictor.

I'll leave it to you to go there and enter: Delmer Wells

Be quick about it. My appointment book is filling up.

Posted by delmer at 10:47 AM | Comments (3)

October 8, 2005

What would the world be like without wire clothes hangers?

Oh. This will be a groundbreaking post.

About 15 years ago I had a roommate whom I'll refer to as Rob. (People who know Rob's real name will marvel at the lengths I've gone to to protect his identity. If Rob were to read this entry his first thought would be, "Hey, Delmer's misspelled my name." That is, I don't really think he'd care if I mentioned him by name. But you never know.)

One day I came home from work and headed upstairs to the reading room for my after-work constitutional.

As I glanced into the toilet I thought, "Why didn't Rob flush this?"

I followed that thought with, "Why didn't Rob use toilet paper?" For, there in the toilet was a ball of fecal matter about the size of a small fist, but no toilet paper.

Well, we've all had no-wipers, though I've got to admit that I've never left it to chance that I may have just produced one. Maybe Rob had some internal mechanism that gave him notice whenever he dropped a no-wiper. Just think of the TP savings.

I gave the toilet a flush. There was some swirling and some motion from the fist, but it didn't go anywhere. I flushed again and then a couple of more times.

The fist's refusal to go anywhere provided some consolation as I figured that Rob had probably flushed the toilet, and probably several times. I was further consoled as I assumed he had used TP and that it had gone down the toilet.

I grabbed a wire clothes hanger from the closet, unmade it, and bent one end into an "L." I then proceeded to chunk the fist up into smaller, more manageable pieces.

As I was involved in this Rob came home.

"Delmer! Can you believe it? It was like a claymore. I flushed and flushed and flushed but it wouldnt go anywhere. I finally had to leave for class."

"Yea Rob, this is really something." I kept chunking.

"Man, I gotta start eating more prunes."

"It certainly couldn't hurt," I said, still poking.

"Hey. When you get done with that why don't you roll that clothes hanger up and leave it by the toilet in case we need it again."

"Rob," I said, good naturedly, "If this happens again we'll get a brand new clothes hanger."

"Yea. That's probably a good idea."

The guy was a hoot.

(And a genuinely good person.)

Posted by delmer at 11:48 PM | Comments (0)

October 7, 2005

My loser score

Posted by delmer at 9:50 PM | Comments (0)

October 3, 2005

I almost bought a lawn mower last night

A red one. A red one with a 4.5 horsepower Briggs and Stratton engine. Well, it was probably a Briggs and Stratton engine. I couldn't really get close enough to see it.

Dad and I had returned a mower to Meijer. I have a small yard and don't really need a $200 mower so I returned the one that my mother had purchased.

Meijer had less-expensive mowers but none of them were assembled. As I'm tall I really like to stand behind a mower I'm going to be using before I buy it; I take this approach to buying a mower because even at their tallest setting some mowers have handles that are too low for comfort. And I'm just normal-tall ... how do the freakishly tall get by? (The freakishly tall are, naturally, anybody taller than me.)

So Dad and I shot across the street to Wal-Mart.

Now, I am sort of boycotting Wal-Mart and was a bit troubled by driving over and putting the needs of my yard above the needs of the country or smaller-business person. But I needed a mower and I figured they'd have one or two assembled.

I first realized I might have trouble when I noticed the Lawn and Garden area seemed to have too much Halloween and Christmas stuff in it. The smell of fertilizer led me to hope that there might be a lawn mower or two left. And there was one. A nice, shiny red one with tassels on the handlebar and a raccoon tail hanging from the pull starter. It was a mower a man could be proud to own. A mower that could more than mow -- it could heal. It may have also mulched. And I believe it was a rear-bagger -- no Ron Jeremy pun intended.

But for all the pluses ... all the potential ... I couldn't get close enough to get a feel for handle height. It was sitting on the back dock, behind a door that wouldn't open.

Not to worry. I tracked down a sales associate and she paged "Anyone in the area of Lawn and Garden please assist a customer wanting to buy a mower." I can't say that sounded like it would attract much help and after five minutes none had arrived.

Had it been a serious lawn emergency I may have tracked down another sales associate. Instead, dad and I just left. Tomorrow I'll go to one of the two Lawn and Garden places I know of in Hilliard and pick something up. If I have to pay a little more I'll at least have the satisfaction of helping out local business.

I should have done that in the first place.

Posted by delmer at 12:01 AM | Comments (3)

September 26, 2005

Safety Squat Bar

Periodically I'll mention that I go to the gym several times a week. I started going on a regular basis when I found I had a hormone problem; I became concerned about losing bone and muscle mass and hoped going to the gym would help preserve both. It isn't uncommon for me to bitch about people who don't rerack their weights (I spotted another guy today -- a guy about 55. He should know better.)

I'd like to point out now that if you were to see me in the gym I'd be the normal-looking guy who looks like he still needs to drop a few pounds. I'm just a normal guy.

I started squatting a while ago. It may already be a year; it may be something less. I was concerned that it might be hard on my knees and especially my right one as I've had it operated on twice. For as long as I can remember -- years and years and years, probably since the last operation about 15 years ago -- the right knee area has felt like there is a rubber band on the inside of the knee that is constantly pulling. It's probably a tendon, though I refuse to do any actual research to see what body part it might be. I'm certain it isn't one of the major body organs.

Shortly after I started squatting the pulling sensation went away. The knee feels better than ever.

Even though I squat a couple of times a week I still suck at it. I attribute this to my height (I'm just over 6' 4"), though this may just be an excuse. While I want to squat, not getting hurt is more important to me at this age (45 years) than putting up a lot of weight is. With a bar on my shoulder I've been concerned that I bend forward too far and that I round my back. Once or twice I've had soreness in my lower back, but nothing too severe.

I've been hoping to get my hands on a Safety Squat Bar. Lo and behold, the gym I belong to has purchased one.

I saw a guy using it yesterday. He's a competitive power lifter with some shoulder problems. He was using the SSB as it has a yoke that allows a person to use it while keeping his hands in front on a pair of handles. I had to leave before he was finished squatting and didn't get a chance to debrief him about the bar. But, I ran into him today and he confirmed a lot of what I'd read: he had to squat a bit less and the SSB seems to push you forward.

I gave the bar a shot. I tried several reps with an empty bar to get the feel for it and then thew some light weight on. I eventually worked up to what would be twenty pounds less than I normally workout with.

The reps were a little harder. I believe this was a due to a combination of the initial awkwardness I felt and the fact that greater emphasis is placed on the quads, and less on the glutes (er, ass), with the SSB versus a straight bar. Your glutes are the biggest muscle group in your body; J-Lo's glutes are the biggest muscle group in her body and a whole other body not her own.

Luckily, my squat is so low that I think the SSB may allow me to make greater gains than a straight bar. The weight is centered in such a way that it reduces the amount of forward bending I experience otherwise so I should have to worry less about straining my back. Only time will tell.

Posted by delmer at 12:07 AM | Comments (0)

September 25, 2005

Desperate Housewives

It's not like we didn't already know that redheads were insane.

The new neighbors seem pretty cool.

Posted by delmer at 9:55 PM | Comments (0)

September 15, 2005

Guest Map

I found My Guest Map while reading Marie's blog and thought it looked like an interesting idea.

Using the controls on the left side a person can zoom in enough to place an icon quite possibly on their house. I'm not sure that that's a terrific idea. I placed an icon on the building I work in.

There's a link at the top of the page for Guest Map. If you're feeling really geeky give it a whirl. Don't worry ... I won't come visiting.

Posted by delmer at 11:19 AM | Comments (1)

September 14, 2005

Giggin' for Frogs -- The Finale

Gigging for Frogs: A Quinn Martin Production. Tonight's Episode, The Finale

Be sure to read the above with a deep, uninterested tone of voice.

The officer started taking our drivers licenses and running us through the computer back at HQ. I remember thinking that this might be interesting -- I'd had some professional involvement with local law enforcement (that is, they had been acting in a professional capacity when we became involved) in the past and wondered what the computer might kick out about me. There may have been a bench warrant out for my arrest in Missouri at the time (um ... trespassing ... reduced from aggravated menacing, attempting to gain entry and burglary); I'll have to give some thought as to whether or not the frog giggin' came before or after the cross-country trip Jeff and I took to California.

I'll give that some thought tonight. Tomorrow we'll have the exciting finale. Regardless of how long it is.

Now that I've had some time to think on it, I believe the frog gigging predates the trip to California and, therefore, the evening of incarceration in Missouri. I've got a mail out to Roy and maybe he can provide a better date.

On with the story ...

The officer called us to his car one at a time and took our licenses. He ran the license for each of my buddies through the computer and they all came back clean. When my turn came he took my license from me, gave it a look, and handed it back. I remember being a bit disappointed as I was curious about what might come up about me -- I mean, there wouldn't be anything too terrible, but still. In the end I had that birds-of-a-feather thing working for me.

The officer then went to the cars and shined his light in each. Jeff's huge hunting knife caught his eye and he asked us about it. Jeff explained that Roy's dad made knives as a hobby (which was true, Roy's dad made some really nice knives) and that he was going to make a -- ah, what are they called? sheath? Jeff's knife was almost big enough to need a scabbard -- anyway, that Roy's dad was going to make a sheath for it. That was not so much the truth.

As we stood there the officer told us there had been a break in at one of the local homes.

Alright. Now we were getting somewhere. We certainly hadn't been involved in anything like that.

The man in blue turned to me and asked, "Delmer, you boys haven't been breaking into homes tonight, have you?"

"No."

"Well then, you won't mind if I take a look in your trunk."

[Up until this moment in the story I had thought I'd ridden with Jeff and that we'd been in his Firebird. As it happens, Jeff and I had ridden in my mom's Buick Regal.]

"Not at all," I said, and we headed to the car.

I threw open the trunk and there, in all its glory, was a bunch of stuff my friends and I had collected for a garage sale. We were raising money for our softball team and while the stuff in the trunk was certainly not of worthy-of-stealing class, there was a lot of stuff there and at first glance it might make someone wonder.

The officer wondered, "What's all this?"

I explained about our softball team and the garage sale. I had a bat, glove and cup in the trunk which, I thought, made the truth more believable.

Well, even without the equipment a person would be hard pressed to believe anybody would steal anything I had in the trunk. Well, the glove and bat had some value, but the rest of the stuff was your basic garage-sale crap.

The officer told us again about the break in and suggested we be more careful in the future as "you almost got yourselves shot tonight."

He probably wasn't going to shoot us. But maybe Roy had the right idea all along.

Posted by delmer at 12:43 AM | Comments (2)

September 13, 2005

Giggin' for Frogs -- The Pat Down

The officer spoke into his radio, "I got 'em." He kept his hand on his gun.

That didn't sound good. But I was pretty sure, and I'm certain the other guys (except maybe Roy) were thinking that we were in the midst of come sort of misunderstanding.

Have I mentioned yet that Jeff had an almost-Crocodile-Dundee sized knife sitting on the console between his bucket seats?

We were all leaning up against the car in a line. I was the last one in line and was able to see the other guys get patted down. The officer would approach one of us and say "spread out" and the guy would move his feet further apart from each other. That is, his toes would remain the same distance from the car and the distance between his ankles would increase. If you've ever seen Hawaii Five-0, The Streets of San Francisco, Nash Bridges, Behind the Green Door, Starsky & Hutch ... almost any cop show and a lot of your lower-quality porn, then you've seen this move.

With the guy spread out the officer would run his left hand over the guy like you've seen on TV. He kept his right hand on his gun. This method worked well for Jeff and Craig. Then the officer came to Roy.

The officer said, "Spread out," and Roy backed up a step. So now he was leaning on the car at a more precarious angle. The officer tried "spread out" again. Roy took another step backward, increasing again his amount of lean on the car.

The next "spread out" was accompanied by a kick to the insides of Roy's ankles -- again, just like you've seen on TV. Roy's feet were so far out from the car when the kick (nudge really) came that I thought he might drop to the ground. It's a shame he didn't; it would have been a better story. But it was still really funny (in a Roy's one of my best and oldest friends sort of way. There should be some hyphens in that last sentence; I just don't feel like putting them in.)

Roy was not being a smartass. He was just a bundle of nerves.

The officer came to me -- standing there in my shorts and a football jersey -- and gave me a look over. No patting. Which was fine with me -- I'd had that thrill (and other police-related thrills) before.

The officer told us we could stand away from the car and we formed a semi-circle. Roy put his hands in the air, Western-movie style. The officer was talking into his radio.

"Roy," I said, "You can probably put your hands down. I don't think he's going to shoot us." And Roy put his hands down. But only for a moment and then they were back up above his head.

"Roy. You can probably put your hands down. I don't think he's going to shoot us," I repeated. They went down again. And then back up.

The officer, done with the radio, looked over and said, "Son! Will you put your hands down. You're enough to embarrass a man." They came down for good.

The officer asked what we were up to. Somebody told him that we had come out to swim in the quarry but decided against it. Jeff was wet from the waist down and the officer pointed that out. Someone explained that Jeff had gone in to test the water before we decided that swimming was a bad idea. The officer agreed that swimming in the quarry would be a bad idea.

The officer started taking our driver's licenses and running us through the computer back at HQ. I remember thinking that this might be interesting -- I'd had some professional involvement with local law enforcement (that is, they had been acting in a professional capacity when we became involved) in the past and wondered what the computer might kick out about me. There may have been a bench warrant out for my arrest in Missouri at the time (um ... trespassing ... reduced from aggravated menacing, attempting to gain entry and burglary); I'll have to give some thought as to whether or not the frog giggin' came before or after the cross-country trip Jeff and I took to California.

I'll give that some thought tonight. Tomorrow we'll have the exciting finale. Regardless of how long it is.

Posted by delmer at 12:03 AM | Comments (0)

September 12, 2005

Gigging for Frogs -- The Adventure Begins

Let me start this post by saying that growing up I ran around with a pretty tame crowd. A big night for us was renting a gym and playing basketball for a couple of hours. We didn't cruise around town starting trouble and most of us held onto our Biblical innocence until college -- not necessarily by choice, there just weren't that many girls in the gym (when one of us was taking it to the hole a fast break was probably in progress.)

I looked like the guy your parents wanted you or your sister to date. Which, of course, means I was not necessarily the guy you or your sister wanted to date.

Roy called one night and thought we should all get together and do some frog giggin'.

If you are unfamiliar, frog giggin' (which will sometimes be spelled 'gigging' as I don't know that I'll be able to hillbilly up the spelling consistently) is the process by which you enter a body of water with a gig (a small trident -- think King Poseidon from Little Mermaid) attached to a pole. You look for a frog and you spear him. You may shine a light in his eyes just before you spear him, I don't recall. I guess it would make it easier for him to "go to the light" just as he finished his, I-wonder-what-that-is thought (often times expressed as, "ribbit.")

I can't say I thought giggin' was a great idea. It involved sneaking into private property, being in a pond after dark, and getting wet. It seemed like there would be very little going to the hole and certainly no pick and roll.

As it happens, at least four of us set out. And maybe five or six. Those I recall were me, Jeff, Roy and Craig(?). For the sake of the story we'll say there was one more. We'll call him Mike.

I remember driving off somewhere to the golf course we were going to violate. Roy had the gigs held outside the window against the roof of his car in a spear-forward configuration. Even before the giggin' started we were begging for police intervention.

We arrived at our destination and parked down the road a bit from the golf course. We parked right in front of a big sign that said something like Construction: No Parking. It was midnight -- there was no construction going on -- we figured we'd be safe.

We started walking to the golf course. On one side of the road was a big rock quarry.

We did some gigging. I'd been wearing sweat pants and Jeff had some sort of long pants on as well.

Frogs in bag we headed back to the cars. As we walked a police cruiser came racing up behind us and braked hard. The officer gave us a look and then sped away. One of the guys asked, "What was that all about?!"

"They're going to tow our cars!" I shoute