Where Are the Kids? or Attachment Parenting Run Amok!

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You can draw your own conclusion from this! Yesterday morning I was caught in the traffic of the morning drop off at a local school. Not just one school, but a middle school and right next to it an elementary school. Between the two, about one thousand kids! It was a beautiful spring morning, sunny, pleasantly cool, the kind you dream about all winter long!

As I inched along in traffic, I had a chance to look around. Green grass, incredible mountain vistas, but I had a feeling something was wrong here, something was missing and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I looked around some more and then it hit me! Children! Where were all the children walking to school? I looked more attentively at the grounds of both schools! All I could see were two kids on bikes near the elementary school, that’s it, that’s all! There were no kids walking, no kids playing on the grass, no kids just hanging out and enjoying the beautiful morning!

Then the new cover of Time Magazine popped into my head! I think we have all gone nuts! 

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Fun Run! or Boot Camp Sissy Boy!

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I know I am well, sloth-like, if there is such a term. But I have my reasons, 6×365 of them to justify this! Was I always like this? NO! I was a pretty active person until that fateful day, that I entered the Army! Up to that point I was always up for a hike, hell even a run, but Uncle Sam screwed ( I can think of a much stronger word) it all up. I see these people on Facebook I grew up with, they are all hiking, biking, even going to “boot camp” or so they think they are in there naïve little worlds.
Are people I was in the Army with doing such things? Not a chance pal! We have all received a lifetime’s worth of this!

Let’s start with “Boot Camp” Now some of you may go to an exercise class, it’s a tough exercise class, but it’s no boot camp! Quit calling it that! In fact the US Military should sue for naming rights! But us veterans will let you have your fun, sort of like a kid playing with toy guns and tanks. Here’s my version of boot camp, lets see how it stacks up to yours: Woken up by someone banging on a trash can lid at 4am, clean every floor and toilet, 10 minute breakfast break, stand at attention for an hour or so, go on a five mile hike, run an obstacle course, take a 10 minute lunch break, run the obstacle course again, repeat earlier five mile hike, have an “exercise class” punctuated with a 2-3 mile run, have a 15 minute dinner break, shower, lights out at 8pm, repeat this general schedule daily for 12 weeks………….there’s your boot camp! Hate to break the news to you, but you are only attending an exercise class! And your instructor? A guy who dresses in skimpy clothes and only goes by a semi-exotic first name like “Renaldo” or “Igor“ and is a lot like that whiny Russian dipshit on Dancing With the Stars, not much of a life expectancy for him at our real boot camp!

Then there is the “Hike”! The idea of taking a leisurely stroll through nature, enjoying the flora, fauna, and wildlife then to stop and have a light nutritious snack sounds wonderful! I see my FB friend posting photos of their hikes, some of the very mountains I used to love to hike up, that is until….well, see paragraph one. Hikes took on a very different meaning after paragraph one. There we had no choice but to hike to our next destination, no cars, busses, bikes, just our Chevro-Legs! Instead of a light culinary fare of fruit and granola washed down with bottled water, we ate out of box or pouch and washed it down with canteen water often on the move for our twenty mile or so venture. No Nike wicking clothing and special hiking shoes, just about everything we owned in a backpack.

And running? Don’t even get me started! Let’s just say the term “Fun Run” is one of life’s greatest oxymorons! Next time you are lacing up your Nikes, imagine lacing up a pair of combat boots, strapping on a pack and going for a little three-miler while wearing a gas mask and holding a rifle out in front of you!

So if you know a veteran who seems to be a bit lazy, now you know why! He or she is anything but lazy, but has gone way past their share of running, hiking, and exercising under duress! And like me, may have some scarred up knees as a result of serving their country! Just buy them a beer and offer them a ride as you thank them for their selfless service. You’re Welcome!

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A Hormone By Any Other Name!

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Boy talk about “The Worlds Oldest Profession” which created the probably the worlds oldest joke. You know that one:

Q: How do you make a whore moan ?
A: Don’t pay her!!!!!

Looks like this one got a little louder than a whore-moan when she was not paid!
I guess that she did not accept U.S. Government credit cards!
And I wonder if the Secret Service guys used all their cash for lap dances…..and “Columbian Marching Powder”? You folks from the 80’s know what I’m talkin about!
And I wonder how long this has been going on?
Are these the same guys that travel with Michelle?

I would have thought they would have perfected how to pull this off when they were protecting Clinton!

Of course President Obama is concerned!
He’s not being protected by the smartest damned guys now is he?
Maybe that’s why he keeps sending Michelle on all those vacations without him and the kids!

Double Time in the Company Area! or Drop Goofy Woofy!

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Sometimes I can impersonate people spot on! Turned out, I could sound just like one of my drill sergeants. The drill sergeant in this case was Staff Sergeant Buck Sanderfer. Now for you that have actually read my past posts, you have read the story of my first day in my basic training company. You would also know that SSG Sanderfer looked just like he stepped off a Hollywood movie set making an Army movie. Big damn guy! Bulldog face, booming voice and just flat scared the hell out of us! I too have a booming voice much to the chagrin of my family, and it still booms!

But back to the story. Those same persons who have read my past story also know our barracks at beautiful Fort Dix were three story brick buildings that had forbidden doors. The ones closest to where we stood in formation for hours at a time were not for our use. Wish they would have because it would have saved me a hell of lot of time walking around that building. I mean really, who walks out their back door to get to their front yard? Did I say walking? We were not allowed to walk in the company area! We were required to “Double Time” in the company area! For those of you who are not familiar with that term, it means run! So with that, me and just about everybody else would casually walk from the door. get in a smoke, we were not allowed to do that either. And as we approached the formation area, crane the neck a bit to see if a drill sergeant happened to be there. If there was none, one could continue their leisurely stroll as the cigarette was finished. If their was a drill sergeant there and you were not spotted, you carefully backed up, (there were no windows on the sides of the buildings) finished your smoke and came charging to the formation like the dedicated soldiers we were!

One morning while after breakfast a few of us were enjoying another wonderful New Jersey February morning…..I’m kidding! It was just getting light and as some guys would do that neck craning thing thinking the coast was clear would continue their casual stroll. That is until I yelled “DOUBLE TIME IN THE COMPANY AREA!” Nobody even thought of verifying the presence of a drill sergeant, they just startled into a full run only to arrive at a bunch of us laughing. “Damn man, you sounded just like Sergeant Sanderfer!” was the usual remark. So we all watched as I got the next one and the next. I was on a roll but thought I was pushing my luck a bit so I backed off. “Hey Cede, get Sanchez” or “Get that one Cede!” I was starting to enjoy my audience, I couldn’t let them down!

Turned out I had another audience member, the man himself, SSG Sanderfer must have been watching from an open window! As I got my next victim and had my back to the building, my fellow boot campees scrambled to formation! Some of them laughing! The guy must have jumped or flown right up behind me, I heard nothing! Until “TURN AROUND GODDAMMIT! CEDARSTROM? YOU TRYING TO SOUND LIKE ME? YOU THINK YOU SOUND LIKE ME GOOFY WOOFY*?” “No sergeant” It was now light enough to see SSG Sanderfer’s red contorted face! “I DON’T SOUND LIKE THAT! DROP GOOFY WOOFY* DROPPPPP!” Down I went for about fifty, I could hear some snickering. “ANY OF YOU OTHER GOOFY WOOFYS* WANT TO JOIN HIM?” No takers, the snickering stopped! SSG Sanderfer made damn sure I had to do some serious shouting to get back up! And he stormed back into the barracks! I quickly got back into formation. My buddies were laughing, my arms were too sore to laugh!

One of the greatest times of my entire military career was finishing boot camp, no longer a trainee but now a peer to my Drill Sergeants. Having a beer with the guys who dished out so much out to you was pretty special! After a couple, SSG Sanderfer brought up the incident and did admit I sounded A LOT like him and had to stop laughing and get into character before he came out that morning. The other drill sergeants agreed I sounded like him and I got to do an encore, this time without the push-ups! Damn, how many of the were watching?

*GOOFY WOOFY was not what he actually said! The first word had maternal reference, the second word…….well you‘re on your own with that one!

There aint a Cowboy who can’t been Throwed!

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A friend of mine I grew up with just posted photos on Facebook of his family riding an elephant! Quite the family outing! He mentioned it had something to do with margaritas! Looks like they all had fun. Someone asked on the post where he found an elephant an elephant to ride in Arizona? His reply was simply this, “Elephants are pretty big. They are not good at hiding.” Makes sense to me, don’t see too many folks riding Mountain Lions around do you? They are REAL good at hiding!

Where am I going with this? Wherever I want, it‘s my blog! Maybe there is a correlation with drinking and riding things. Think about the very first bull rider. Is there any rational reason why these things need to be ridden? None that I can think of! They are temperamental, can’t really run, not much to look at. But, after a little tequila and the rational changes, folks sitting around a table with a near empty bottle and someone says “Hey, I think I can ride that bull”. Did I say their rational has changed? It hasn’t, it’s now long gone! Now EVERYBODY thinks this is a good idea! To make a long story short, these people took enough shots in the head while bull riding drunk to now turn it into a sport, even when not inebriated.

Reminds me of my friend’s Shetland Pony when I was a teen. What are ponies? Cute, gentle creatures with ribbons in their mane, always framed with rainbows, stars, and hearts. Only if you believe the toymakers or have had a few! Truth is, most of them are mean little bastards! “Little Horse Syndrome” similar to that of any male corporate manager or Real Estate salesmen who happens to be under five foot four! But back to the ponies, try to feed or pet my friend’s pony and it would bite, get on it’s back and it would run you into the corral rails or take off then stop abruptly! Fast-forward to beer six and it seemed like a good idea to ride it! That is until the next day as you dress your wounds and wrap your knee with and ace bandage!

The best example of this ever was back in the late 70’s at the Phoenix Zoo. Anybody here ever think of riding a Rhino……………….when sober? Don’t see any hands, that’s what I thought! And why the guy was so drunk at the zoo is a subject all in itself, but he was, and his rational had changed, or gone completely away! As he jumped the wall to the Rhino exhibit his words were, “There aint a cowboy who can’t be throwd, there aint a Rhino that can’t be rode”! The Rhino fervently agreed with the latter portion of that statement and proceeded to toss and drag our “cowboy” around a bit until it got tired and some more right-minded folks rescued the now deflated wrangler. So what’s the point of all this nonsense and drivel? I don’t know, I was just thinking of going out for a ride on my old Schwinn.

Entertainment in a Can!

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When things get a little quiet, I like to go to Walmart and then to the spray paint department. Shake a can of paint and then make a SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS sound and loudly announce “Damn! That’s the same color of the cap!” Then another SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS, “Hey this one is too!” And then observe the looks of your fellow patrons, then say, “man that is so cool!“ Try it, it’s great fun!

A Tale of Two Thrift Stores

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I’ll admit it, I am a thrift store junkie. I enjoy digging through them,my main motivation looking for old bicycles and electronic stuff. Most thrift stores are run by charitable organizations, the majority being churches. Pretty good example of an actual win-win situation really. You donate the things to you no longer need, get credit for a charitable donation, the thrift store sells it, the proceeds go to help run the organization. And, it puts some otherwise unemployable people to work! Not only that, but provides usable items to those who cannot afford new ones. And in this poor economy, that’s how some families are getting the things they need to get by. Mighty good deal all the way around!

One would think that in this down economy, a religious organization would really be doing to their absolute best to get what’s donated to them to people at the lowest prices they could, right? Well not the case with the major stores in the Salt Lake area. The stores are called “Deseret Industries, or D.I. for short” and there are several of them throughout Utah. They are owned by, well, we are in Utah and let’s just say they don’t like coffee! Used to be, and in a much stronger economy, I could pick up an old bike for about ten to twenty bucks, an old stereo receiver for five and an old computer for three or four. Now, bikes are about sixty bucks and up, stereos thirty, and computers about twenty. In the worst economic conditions most of us will ever see in our lifetimes, these guys have raised their prices over 500% in some instances! And does this organization really need the money? When was the last time you bought a street in a major U.S. city or built a 2 billion dollar condo/shopping development, and paid cash for both? Nice of them to help out in these troubling times aint it? It’s not like their supply costs have gone up, people drive to them and drop off, read “give” them their stuff! I do realize that a lot of people who go there are just scrounging around for stuff like I do,  but there are also a lot of people who rely on such places to clothe their families, get bikes for their kids, maybe a TV, and these guys jack the prices up on them. In a word, shameful!

The town I live in does not have one of those stores. Our local store is also a church organization, but this one has a Pope, who probably drinks coffee! I was in our store one day and overheard a conversation between a couple of volunteers who were discussing a recent clothing theft at the thrift store. In that conversation they alluded to the fact that the parish priest has instructed them not to go after such folks with the reasoning that they must need those clothes pretty bad. This organization has to rely on that thrift store’s revenue just to keep the lights on! Do that in the D.I. and one of their detectives or incognito loss prevention people will stop you, haul you into a back room and call the local gendarmes. The contrast between these two stores glared at me recently as when I was down in the “Big City” and noticed at the D.I., a rack of new children’s coats had cables running through them and were locked to the rack! Now I ask you, who would steal a child’s coat in the dead of winter in Northern Utah? Probably somebody with a cold child! What would Jesus do? Unlock the coats and offer them for free to the cold children………… or at least at a better price. These guys? Mark em up and lock em up………….. I hear they are looking to buy another street? Again, Shameful!

The Shortest Distance Between Two Points….According to a Cab Driver

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Am I assuming just way to much to assume, wait a minute! I learned how to spell “Assume” early into my Army career, ASS-you make an ass, U out of you, ME and me! OK, let’s try speculate, hypothesize, hell even guess, that maybe computerized systems may be more efficient for routing packages. Let’s go back to the days of yore, where you go to the post office in Phoenix with your package for Heber City, UT. The kindly post office clerk would take your package, gently place your package in a bin and tell you it should arrive in 2-3 days. Behind the scenes, a sorting clerk would see the address, know that it is near Salt Lake City, and (again, gently) place the package in a bin marked “Flagstaff” or “Las Vegas”. That process would logically repeat itself as it effectively made it’s way to it’s destination. Of course, that sort of logic has long since departed the post office as it is now a model of efficiency similar to the IRS and Dept of Education! But you still have choices, companies that do this with their own money, they have do be as cost effective as possible to make a profit, right? Maybe not!

The old Caddy had been leaking oil on the exhaust for some time. It had been driving me nuts to where the source of the leak was but I finally found it. I needed to order a replacement oil cooler line. Now I will do a story on this later, and I will show you how to save a ton of money on things like car and appliance parts for you do-it-yourselfers. I clicked the Amazon link on this site and got the hose for about half of what most online parts sellers get! Not only that, but an OEM part to boot! The catch was it, will take a couple of weeks to arrive. No biggy, the car is OK to drive and doesn’t get driven that much anyway. I got a confirmation email that the part had shipped via FedEx from Phoenix, a few days early. I have made that drive many times, about 620 miles in 12 hours. Still, I will give them a couple of days.

About four days later, no hose. So we looked it up and it had shipped the same day as I got the email. Is it in Flagstaff or Las Vegas? No! It’s in Los Angles, about 400 miles from Phoenix, in the wrong direction! OK, maybe this makes some sense, could be an I-15 thing. After all, I-15 begins in Los Angeles and goes through Salt Lake, then again it goes through Las Vegas too! A couple of days later and it is not on my porch, so I check the status, it is now in Sacramento! So much for the I-15 thing! And that’s another 400 miles, in the wrong direction. So let’s see here, the package originally had to make a 620 mile, due north trip, but has now has gone 800 miles, west! And now it has about 700 miles left to go, east! This has now become an I-80 thing! After it was an I-5 thing. A couple of days later, it is now in Salt Lake City! The only thing left to wonder is how it will make that final 45 mile trip to my house, Boise? Denver? 2 days later still not on my porch! Tracking status still says it has spent 2 days sitting in Salt Lake, must have been exhausted from it’s trip and needed a couple days rest!

Something I noticed from the tracking data is that they called this service “Smartpost”! From looking at the final tracking data is that FedEx gives the package to the local post office for the home delivery, hence the name “Smartpost” And wouldn’t the term “Smartpost” be an oxymoron? Have you ever heard of a person possessing low intelligence described “as dumb as a post”? I have used FedEx hundreds of times over the last 25 years or so to deliver some critical things and if they have done a tremendous job, pretty reliable organization I’d say. The only thing I can recall they ever lost was Tom Hanks, but he finally showed up a few years later! So they have now combined forces with the United States Post Office, and who rubbed off on whom? Did the United States Post Office learn from the efficient private company? NO! The post office rubbed off on FedEx! And who devised this route? A New York City cab driver? No actually, it was a computer program! Nobody questions them these days! Not the guy at the “Quickie Lube” place who just took off a 28 inch wiper blade and replaced it with a 12 inch one. When you ask him why did he do that all he can come back with is “The computer said that’s the right one”. No that Ritalin had no effect on your development! And the people in the Smartphone commercials who take off on a cross-country road trip with no preparation and then find themselves in the middle of the desert and ask their phone, “Where are we?” Their next question may be “is there a signal out here?” they might be asking that one a lot! While your out there and when and if you do get a signal, if you see a FedEx truck go by, email me from “Contact” tab at the top of the page. I really need to get this car fixed!

Hey! Get Those Brussels Sprouts Outta Here! or This Breed Will Turn on You!

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Like most kids of my generation, and every generation before and since, vegetables were a problem. And like most kids, I developed ways of managing to eat them, because I was not allowed to leave the table until they were done! Peas were always the easiest, since they would wash down like aspirin with your milk. Broccoli and cabbage mixed well with mashed potatoes and gravy, corn was good on it’s own, but Brussels Sprouts, there was nothing that could be done with those! In fact, I have since grown to like and even enjoy most vegetables, I still dislike the little round green alien spheres passionately! I have made some concessions though to finally allow them in the house, the trade was that I can use the dishwasher to clean bike parts!

Over the years I had even resolved to giving them another chance from time to time. I mean since I like all the other vegetables that I did not as a child, maybe they weren’t so bad! Still no, just can’t deal with those things! Children tend to be irrational about such things but grow out of them to live somewhat normal rational adult lives. Then again, ask any two-hundred dollar an hour therapist as to why you struggle with such things as an adult and they will all tell you that this stems from a childhood incident, you will never completely overcome this, I can help but I now need to see you ten times a week! It’s all coming back to me now!

I was ten years old or so, my parents, both children of “The Great Depression”, (as are yours and mine, just nobody will admit to it!) were pretty adamant about eating what was placed before you. That was something us kids and most of the other “boomers” understood and just did not challenge. There was always something in the old man’s voice and eye when he told supporting stories as to why you need to eat what was prepared for you that prompted you to back off and listen. Not to mention, “The Original ADHD Medication” (see the past blog post) that parents of the day brought out to get their point across to their little darlings! Speaking of ADHD, where was I? !!!! Oh yeah, Brussels Sprouts! And why are they called Brussels Sprouts? Isn’t that like getting a “Shoes Shined”? Dammit there I go again!

There I was at the table, as usual, a wonderful meal prepared by Mom. Except for, Brussels Sprouts! I had places to go, people to see after dinner, these awful things were really going to get in the way. I decided to enlist the “Secret Weapon” before my brother Eric did. His plate was still full of the green alien spheres! Our beloved German Sheppard Mona! Never tried these out on her! She liked mashed potatoes and corn as my oldest brother Jim used those to teach her to eat from a fork. She mastered the fork quickly, a lot faster than my kid did! So I inconspicuously took one of offensive green alien spheres from my plate, held it below the table, moving it back and forth to where Mona patrolled during meals. I heard her move up to check it out, take a sniff and then quietly take it from my hand. “YESSS!!” I thought to myself! I’ll be out with my friends in no time! Now, usually Mona ate what you gave her, where you gave it to her and waited for the next morsel before resuming her patrol, but this time she took it and left. “ It’s new to her” I thought, “she’s just checking it out before she comes back for more, might take a while” as I waved the next one under the table. She did not return! Mona came out from under the table, making a gagging sound, stood to the side of the old man and “AAACK” out rolled the Brussels Sprout toward the old mans chair! Quickly making a scan of who still had those awful things still on their plate and who was putting one back on his plate, I was quickly identified as the culprit! The old man quickly administered a small but effective dose of “The Original ADHD Medication” to me, got that look in the eye, tone in the voice and I was forced to eat those awful things! It took a while and I missed going out with my friends after dinner!

No need to go and spend two hundred dollars on hour for a therapist who could now tell me why I still hate those things. I know why! And I really have no desire to like them! Sort of like the Dallas Cowboys, can’t stand them either! Bill Cosby said it best in one of his routines with “Hey! Get those Brussel Sprouts outta here” And German Sheppards? I could have told you since I was ten years old, so save your hard-earned money “Great dog! But that breed can turn on you!”

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