2 years since an update... wow, this blog is dead! here's a random thought of the night...

i believe it's universal that people periodically dream about being late to a test/interview/play/event, or can't find the room, or are running late due to a million different reasons. why is this? why so many frustrating dreams where we can't ever really get to the 'content' part of the dream? well, behold, fellow dreamers, i have the answer. it is an answer that can never be conclusively proven, but that doesn't mean that it's not exactly correct in every way. i believe we have these frustrating dreams simply because the brain can't think up a good ending. or the parts of the brain that would supply the actual content of where the story line is going is switched off / still sleeping.

i had a dream this week, where i was late for a college organic chemistry test... again. but the dream was early morning, and i was quasi-waking, and could semi-control some of the dream events. going through the typical detours and problems getting to the test room, i forced the dream to get me to that damnable test room. through sheer strong will i found myself in the auditorium, with backpack, pencil, calculator, fully clothed (always a bonus), and ready for the test. nothing was going to stop me from taking that test. so, i pulled out the test from the backpack (why i had the test before hand, who knows) and slapped it on the half-desk top. completely empty. flipped it over. completely empty. it's like my brain never planned on getting me this far along in the dream, and simply had no content written for that test (that it had no intention of ever showing to me)

i had some suspicions in earlier dreams about this theory, but this dream nailed it for me. the reason that doors are locked, that we lost track of time, that we took the wrong turn, forgot the day, forgot the words to the play, forgot how to play the piano, forgot whatever, is simply that the brain has no idea what a good chemistry problem should look like, or what the lines to hamlet should be, or what ANY external content should be. the brain is just processing logistics of walking a physical body around. and cannot do any 'higher level' thinking in dreams. when awake, we aggregate external content and 'solve' it. but when dreaming we're just slumping around, yammering, pointlessly firing the lower-level cylinders of our brain. when we try to apply waking logic of problem solving to dreams, we get that friction, that frustration of trying to use logic and linear thinking to 'solve' problems that aren't relevant or even possible in lala land.

there are no external content providers in dreams, unlike the real world.

so, give up the quest. mold your dreams away from needing to go from points A to B, of relying on a written test, a playbook, a screenplay, a musical score, or a map to proceed. so, there... it's that easy to never have a frustrating dream again.

for all i know, this theory is well known in the psychology/psychiatry or medical brain research circles (i travel in neither circle). but it's new to me. do i win a prize? a "DREAMy award"? and now for my acceptance speech for the dreamy... but i'm dreaming this... so, of course, i can't make my way to the stage... and if i do, i'll trip. i'll be naked, the orchestra will start playing too soon, the lights and mic will not work, and my prepared notes will not be in my pocket. so, instead, i should just hang out in the green room, relax, and eat the comped finger foods and slam some cocktails...

i pity da fooo...

school boy... to summer kid...

"now, let go"

runway clear. ready for takeoff...



one layover in hunterland...



ahhh, to be 2 yrs old again. reagan has little silver cardboard wings she likes to wear, and i fly her around the house. if she stops flapping her arms/wings, she goes lower... flaps quickly, and she rises. well, at least until my arms give out. so last night during flying lessons, she told me "now, let go!" she thought she had mastered the flying thing enough that i didn't need to support or steady her any longer, and she could just fly around on her own.

so i let her go and she dropped, got a concussion and died. and no newtonian eureka moment on the way down, either, like the proverbial apple falling on newton's head.

what a world kids live in to think that flying is that easy, that magic (and elmo) are real, and animals/plants understand english. a complete merging of real world and fantasy worlds.

but the bigger issue is that 'let go now, papa' stuff. we're slowly (actually too quickly) moving through the last milestones of baby stuff. yes, we are done (errr.... i am done). the changing table and diapers are gone. the little portapotty thrown out (yesterday). her crib - sold on craigslist. even her little toddler bed - sold. cupboard child locks - removed. outlet covers - disappearing. gates around steps - long gone. nooks/binkies/patsies/bottles gone/gone/gone/gone. onesies - bagged up. booster chair / highchairs - gone. baby silverware/plates - etc... still have bins of kid toys, but i'm sure i'll blink and they'll be replaced by laptops/ipods/DVDs/school books.

"now, let go"

"no. not yet... not ever"

after the "after-after"

it was a glorious time... 2005... hunter was young(er) and innocent(er)...errrr.. as we all were. and i weighted in at 225. did a crash diet, got to 185, emailed a lil ditty to pioneer press, and rhoda fukushima published it as a 'turning point' story. then, i stopped running (sore knee), forgot about any stinkin' calorie reduction, and just let it ride... so, here i am, at last xmas, back up to 235. so, another confluence of events happened:

1) company did a voluntary health checkup, blood draw, survey, and gave $100. i did it. my cholesterol back up to 238 (should be under 200). weight 232. i think based on the answers i gave in the survey (vegetable servings per day = 0. fruit = 1. beer = lots. exercise = not so much), that i envision the computer that compiled all of that data started blinking, honking, a siren popped to the top of the monitor like a winning slot machine, alerting the medical company to dispatch a life coach to that guy, STAT!

2) my life coach, "Todd!" an enthusiastic young webmd life coach, who talks using a lot of !!!s and "dudes". as in, "do you want to talk about stress relief, dude?!" nah. "ok, life goals?!" nah. "lifestyles?!" nah. "weight!?". yes. "cholesterol?!" yes. originally, a young, enthusiastic life coach, "audra", left me a voice mail, all perky! and enthusiastic! but when i called back, i drew the todd! card. by the time i talked to him, i was at 207. he thought i was joking, but i'm getting ahead of myself here.

3) bikini season right around the corner. if i am ever going to fit into that borat banana hammock again, i need to cut some weight.

4) looking at the year end mcpuff year in review metrics was a depressing event. 70 powerpoint slides of net worth / investments going down. weight going up (but mouse killing holding steady... don't know if that's good news or bad news). bad if you invested in mouse futures, i guess. so, i need / want to focus on another non-$ set of metrics... weight is it.

5) friends were over around xmas time... 2 of them (let's just call them "sue s" and "paul k" to protect their identities and keep them fully anonymous) told me the pioneer press should do an 'after-after' story about my turning point. as in, i had the "before" and "after" pictures and story, but now we need an update on the "after-after". so, i'm gonna jump right to the "after the after-after" sequel. it's like trilogies... the 2nd installment is always lame, always just bridging the first good act w/ what's needed build up the the final good act. so, i quickly dispatched w/ that lame "after after" and we're already at the final act... rise, lord vader! (no, wait, that was lame, too). the after the after-after.

6) i've crashed before. i don't mind taking a few months to lose the weight, and then have it creep back up over the next few years. and then repeat. i have no illusions i'll stay sub-200 (as i am again) for too long. altho i made $20 from dennis back in '05 by staying sub-200 for the entire year.

7) so, dropped 35 lbs so far, from 235 to 200. think i'll try to 'touch' 185 and then maintain sub-200 through at least 2009. the real driver is the cholesterol number... the weight just goes down for the ride. blood pressure = great. triglycerides = great. BMI is 27.1. "Weight is at 56th percentile compared to others of same Height and Age" at 200... that'll work.

8) i put as one of my annual goals for 2009 to get under 200. that has now happened. maybe in 2010 my goal will be to *stay* under 200... but let's focus on this year for now.

so, here's some fun data... the original story from 4 years ago...



the metrics (a missing data point not charted is is 165 lbs from 1988)



weight axis hidden to save my life... the wife's weight metrics...



cholesterol and weight correlations...


the 'after-after' picture at 235 from xmas... of course, is a self portrait, the only type of picture that exists of me from last 10 years...



and the after the after-after...



and my motivation... i need to fit into this bikini...

turkeys... all of em (and a few hams thrown in)

the wife has tamed a gaggle (?) of wild turkeys... they come around about every day, getting corn.

(me) do! & you're my little loose tooth...

yes, i've been preoccupied (again) and haven't blogged. so reagan, hunter and i are going to the children's museum w/out the mama. it's crowded in the parking ramp and cold. reagan is walking w/ me ("no carry... me walk!") so i'm dragging her along, and open door to elevator lobby off the ramp. "do! do!" she says after i opened the door and walked us thru, scooping her up and getting slightly irritated. "DO! DO!" she says again, more urgently and pointing out to the door we just walked through. "no, reagan, it's too late. i just did the door" (she wanted to open the door herself, i thought she meant, but alas, too late and no time for her independence streak to show itself). so, then, as we're getting on the elevator, i happened to look down at her feet. well, she's missing a shoe. she said again, this time in a yell/cry/lurching toward that door, "DO!!!! DO!!!!!". she meant "shoe! shoe! you idiot. i dropped my shoe! out that way! SHOE!" sure enough, there it was sitting in middle of slushy parking ramp road. eureka. had to chuckle.

then, awhile ago, hunter and i were going sliding during that huge snowfall, and in the car, the news said "expect 4-to-8 more inches of snow today." hunter asked me very excitedly "hey papa... how tall IS 48 inches?!" he was crushed when i explained that it wasn't 48 inches of snow coming, but just 4 to 8. i'm sure he envisioned snow as deep as the car, swallowing up entire houses. i hate crushing him w/ real world realities of physics and laws of nature. he finally popped out his first tooth, after having it dangle there for about 2 weeks, not boy enough to just rip it out. which reminded me of the time when the wife and i were listening to the beach boys in the car (FM 108 during summer cruise saturday, i'm sure). very quietly, she was singing along w/ the song. the first time i heard her sing the botched lyric, i didn't think i possibly heard it right so i waited for next refrain. but then she repeated it again, very softly, almost to herself, "she's my little loose tooth, you don't know what i got" instead of "she's my little deuce coupe...." i hate crushing her w/ real world realities, too, but i had to bust her on that lyric. one of our cute little mcpuffisms that you're now a party to.

so we're in the car, and reagan starts grabbing her side and yelling, "bone! bone!" so i go (or does "sez" sound more backwoods?), "hunter! find out what's poking reagan". "BONE! BONE!" again more urgently. but only when she pantomimed her getting her cell phone and pulling it to her ear did i understand. i had hunter's fav. CD on the radio (amazing how he always selects zz top, public enemy, and old 90s hiphop / dance remixes on his favorite mix CDs... what were the odds that his tastes match mine?). the zz top song (cheap sunglasses) playing is also my ringtone for the wife... so, reagan heard that and must've thought, 'wow, that cell phone sound has markedly improved and gotten louder, but it's mama's ringtone nonetheless. and i wanna talk to mama!' and thus the urgency of her telling me to answer my bone call from the wife. (or shouldn't that be vice versa?)

i guess this is turning into our post-xmas newsletter... merry xmas! well, it is in the sense that it's still snowy and i'm typing a message to you. i'm coming off the high of preparing and delivering the year end mcpuff powerpoint review that i force the wyf to sit through once a year. lots o red on those charts this year. it tracks all incoming, outgoing, investment gains/losses (what's a gain again?), forward extrapolations, taxes, asset allocation, etc. funny how in up years i enjoy putting that together... in down years (like oh, i dunno, let's just say the worst stock market returns in last 70 years) maybe not so much fun running the year-end numbers of the mcpuff nest egg. my 401k is now a 201k. but as long as i put snappy background music in the powerpoint (i envision a swelling, string cortet, soaring above the data charts... like 'back in black' or 'money for nothin'), it may block out the losses. or maybe not.

anyway, since last posting.... a lot has happened, a large majority of it very good, some so-so, but mostly it's just gone, belonging to the ages now. no bloggable moments.

steve (aka "the lake detective", as seen (ummm... heard) on am1500, garage logic, w/ soucheray) got some more airtime on a public access tv station that covers half of one block in lakeville. it only broadcasts from 2-3 AM every third monday. in wintertime. of odd years. so, the ratings and views are HUGE. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X338U0_TEtA

we did our mini-boyz weekend up north again. missed the really cold stuff by 3 days. still a good time, anyway. oh, and here's just some other random pics...

paging don king... don king...

ok, to all you readers out there... i know i do my best to scare you all away. post in spurts, then nada... lose the eyeballs and bookmarks. then, post some stuff and forget about it again. well, dear diary, let me get you updated... the boy started kindergarten & had a pirate bday party. the girl continues to leave infant-dom and enter toddler-dom, perfect in every way. the wife's been in work limbo... laid off from teaching. then job extended for 3 months. then extended another 3... now it looks like maybe thru next semester. the me is chugging along, but laptop harddrive crashed a month ago, which was a pain. lost a month of pictures and a year of emails/contacts. everything else backed up completely. had our annual boys weekend up north (w/ 4 brothers and bro-in-law). good time. perfect location (brainerd area lake w/ cabin on a peninsula). then, last weekend, went to boxing match at treasure island w/ the brothers. stev scored 2 free $100 VIP tix for the 7 bout boxing event, because he sparred w/ bonsante to get him ready... bonsante was one of the 2 co-main events (vanda was the other one). there was a VIP room (w/ free food, beverages and even chair massages) and the vip seating were at tables directly around the ring. well, we had to buy 3 $25 tix, but we were able to all end up in the vip seating area. (security was pretty lax, and the ushers managing the seating were flexible), and we just kind of rode in on stev's shirt tails, he knew most of the folks there (or at least the boxing folks). interesting crowd. by interesting, i mean felonious, overly hair-gelled and under dressed (the females at least). i guess it what i expected in a boxing crowd at a casino on a sat. night: rough, loud, aggressive, drunk. but enough about my brothers' behavior... i just googled bansante to make sure i spelled him correctly, and the first link had a picture of me... well, i think it's me. we were sitting right behind the ring announcer and the ring-round-girls (walked around in 8 inch heels and not much else between rounds proudly displaying their IQs, waist sizes or round #... i get confused).

i'm right behind the guy in the tux (the right of him), looking contemplative as the squirrel gets beat up by bonsante. http://www.minnesotaboxing.com

talkin 'bout... 20 years gone by....

I had a friend was a big baseball player back in high school He could throw that speedball by you Make you look like a fool boy Saw him the other night at this roadside bar I was walking in, he was walking out We went back inside sat down had a few drinks but all he kept talking about was Glory days well they'll pass you by Glory days in the wink of a young girl's eye Glory days, glory days Well there's a girl that lives up the block back in school she could turn all the boy's heads Sometimes on a Friday I'll stop by and have a few drinks after she put her kids to bed Her and her husband Bobby well they split up I guess it's two years gone by now We just sit around talking about the old times, she says when she feels like crying she starts laughing thinking about Glory days yeah goin back Glory days aw he ain't never had Glory days, glory days Now I think I'm going down to the well tonight and I'm going to drink till I get my fill And I hope when I get old I don't sit around thinking about it but I probably will Yeah, just sitting back trying to recapture a little of the glory of, well time slips away and leaves you with nothing mister but boring stories of glory days
============
20 year class reunion... we laughed we cried we did a lot of hugging... (well, replace crying w/ drinking beer)... a lot of half hugging... some side hip bump hugging... some terrorist fist bumping... some simple head nods while passing... some squinting at name tags (errr.. not at the cleavage) to figure out who the heck that was that you were (or are) chatting w/, throwing out some generic platitudes like "wow, long time" or "so, what have you been up to lately?" or "should i know you?" or as the night wore on, "so, hey... ...you... umm... did we ever... ahh.. ya, know...{insert billy crystal air fist pump}?"

country club said that for the ~200 folks that 1 keg would certainly be enough. so naive. granted, i'm sure the class slowed down compared to say a 5 yr reunion, but more than a 40 yr. as i was leaving, i heard that the 4th keg had been tapped. was happy to see that there was no loud obnoxious (vanhalen and acdc) music blaring too loud and making dancing the focus of the night instead of talking. still, i sort of lost my voice early anyway, w/ the need to yell above the constant din. dang, i didn't realize how much i missed being around so many of those folks. i actually recognized almost everyone (w/ an early mess up calling kyle "jason" but that's about it, i think) and most looked great.

long nite for the wife, i'm sure (and every other SO). did a school tour at 1. dropped off the little ones at mama's. hung out at dawn's for a few hours before the event (mmmm... crock pot cheese dip... not so "mmmm" - the worst beer selection i could have dreamed of. miller lite?! lime beer? zima?! you kiddin' me?), then country club from 6 to 12-ish. i bet i chatted w/ 100 of the ol' falcons. only left the wife to fend for herself about 23 times thoughout the nite. (before we left, she said "you gotta wear this" and threw me my mini handcuff shackle... errrr.. wedding band. surprised it still fit - haven't worn it in about 2 years.)

did the requisite gossiping, i.e. "catching up on other people" at the reunion. lots of life stories compressed down to "oh, i'm now living in X. have a few kids, X and X. work at X, doing X. that's about it". next!

unrelated: the wife and i went to yangs, (woodbury chinese dine in / take out), and had this verbatim (really, not even any poetic license... just slightly faulty memory) discussion. i love hot, spicy food, of course

jeff: i'll take the sesame chicken
her: ok, how hot?
j: what are my options?
h: between one five
j: five
h: hot 5 or a mild 5?
j: well, as hot as i can get it. can i order it as a 6?
h: sure
j: ok, what's the hottest i can order?
h: five
j: but i want it hot as possible
h: well, then raise your number higher
j: ok, but what's the highest number i can say?
h: five
j: okay... how about a... ten?
h: ok. sure. one time guy order 18. cooks eyes got big when i bring order back.
j: can i change my number to 18?
h: no, only go to five
j: ummm... ok, sure... {w/ defeat in my voice} i guess i'll take a five. a hot five.
h: ok, five it is (walks away briskly... as the victor)

=========
it came. tasted more like a mild 5. next time, i ain't even gonna ask. just order... "sesame chicken, 18 hot. thank you." and start humming loudly while staring at my phone so she can't talk me down from any post-5 hotness. speaking of hotness... i'm looking forward to the post-25 or post-30 hotness (or grayness, bad knees, 2 divorces & 4 jobs later) reunion.

an ode to any family readers (steve/therese/tom/et al)

it's summer. just got back from vaca. week long stay w/ the extended family. all in one 6-bedroom lodge house for the week. kind of like one of those survivor/reality shows. can we vote tom off the island? the perfect vacation spot for families w/ kids. every week has a theme. ours this year was halloween. did trick or treat one day. had movie nites (outside and in their converted garage 'theatre'). bingo nite. creepy dessert day (no, not from my family... resort owners did it). dance nite w/ contests, prizes, etc, like an outdoor wedding reception. rubber chicken toss. minnow races. penny find. 'train' rides (an old chevy car w/ welded plates on it ala that 'animal house' parade wrecker car. and the swimming? perfect for kids. shallow, clear water w/ sandy beach and volleyball courts. fishing? perfect for all... kids got unstunted sunnies, adults (well, let's just call them the older boys) got northerns, walleye, bass. a dive bar nearby w/in walking distance w/ cheap beer. right next to (on) the paul bunyan biking/snowmobile trail. did the paul bunyan park thing (of course). did the pirates cove mini golf (of course). did zorbas bar (of course). some folks golfed (not me... of course.... too much work). or did tennis (ditto). bonfires/smores. horseshoes. weak wifi. playground, volleyball court (no energy for that by anyone this year). had central air but nites were cool enough. kevyn and stev both brought their boats, so made use of them daily. so, except for the mosquitos, a perfect vaca. lit off some fully legal (no, really) fireworks. kids up past their bedtimes by 4 hours. divvied up the daily meals by family assignments. and very cheap, too. sold? then visit trainbellresort.com and tell 'em the jeff sent ya.... actually, mike and connie are the perfect, quintessential resort owners: over-the-top friendly, hard working, keep the place immaculate, and at very reasonable rates. but sat-sat was a long haul. nice getting the kids back on some type of sleeping schedule again. we've only been doing this 3 years now at the train bell, but i would hope we keep doing it for many years out. we have the 4th week in june locked up 'forever' in the grand lodge. dang, is it june again yet? i only took a few pictures. w/ the old camera. hopefully, the neophite family members can figure out how to post their own pix to the family blog, so i can scrape 'em. brave new world. if there isn't a picture of it... did it happen?

announcing: time's person of the year: the superdelegate

so, at the boy's soccer practice (yes, soccer... t-ball is fun for a 5 yr old until he gets smacked in the face... that reminds me of my favorite mike tyson quote: "everyone has a plan 'till they get punched in the mouth"... ok, i guess that's the ONLY mike tyson quote i've memorized, but it's still my favorite)

sitting there w/ the other soccer moms (whaaaaa... i can't be a mom just because of my unit? don't tell that to the dalia mama... he'll kick your arse, he is so full of (road) rage), i had some time to either 1) discuss the latest 'desperate housewives' episode, OR just quietly think... i chose the think... as an aside... last year, before time's person of the year was announced, i just KNEW it was gonna be vladimir putin. i really had no doubt about it. the resurgent russia (and its oil, stock market, muscle, and crazy commie comeback ways), the last year of his presidency, his poking his finger into the eye of the west, etc. he was the logical choice. of course, if i blogged about the fact that i KNEW it would be him AFTER it was announced may have taken some steam out of the message.

so, let me publically announce, 7 months early, that "Time Magazine's person of the year" for 2008 will be... drum roll... pretend you haven't read the blog title or the picture... drum roll.. suspense... "The Superdelegate".

i can even write the intro paragraph announcing their decision: "long before john mccain won the white house in a surprising victory, given the stumbling economy, the quagmire in iraq, the resurgent taliban in afghanistan, the high gas and food prices, the global warming tragedy, it was the select group of secret 'superdelegates' which set the table for the long drawn out presidential race. has there ever been a more powerful, previously unknown group of smoke filled back rooms of political power than this group? that pushed billary aside, and thrust unprepared obama into the fight of his political life? that's why this year, our persons of the year are them: the superdelegates"

has anyone seen 2 decades?

as a grade school kid, i'd look at my (8?!) old, graying uncles and think, 'yup... they're adults, they're mature, they've figured out life'. in high school, i thought 'i've grown up, some adults are idiots, most are mature and have it figured out'. in college, i thought about only the day to day, immediate things, w/ a few detours into the 4th dimension and quantum theory, quarks, OBEs, etc. then, finally, new into the working world, i figured out the grand secret... nobody (not the 65 yr old retiring guy, not the plant manager, not the mid-level muddle-managers, not the gray haired folks, not the young folks, not the governors, not the senators/president, not my peers) has anything figured out... so, who the hell is driving this thing? how do we stop it from careening out of control?

now, w/ pilots, doctors, dentists, cops younger than me, and govt folks at or slightly above my age, it's a scary thing. we're just a bunch of bluffers. oh, i can bluff along w/ everyone else, i guess, but i just hope we all don't realize nobody has a clue at the same time... it'd be anarchy.

i just signed up at my high school's 20 yr reunion site... wow, 20 yrs... feels like about 7. 1 wife, 2 kids, 6 jobs (2 companies), 5 apartments/rentals, 2 homes, college, 5 cars, a 401k later, and bam... here i am. where are you?

anyway, snow on april-26 just isn't right... here's some pix from april-1... which isn't quite 'right', either, but closer to right at least...

... an ode to amy

ok, first the requisite shot of raggae out of the way...



now, the real reason for this blog entry...

Badmen Rye
Brayed Men
Band Emery
Bandy Mere
Drab Enemy
Brad Enemy
Bard Enemy
Beam Nerdy
Barmen Dye
Amber Deny
Bream Deny
Maybe Nerd
Maybe Rend
Ban Remedy
Nab Remedy
Bray Emend
Bay Mender
Renamed By
Meander By
Remand Bye
Remand Bey
Yardmen Be
Damn Beery
Mean Derby
Mane Derby
Name Derby
Amen Derby
Meany Bred
Myna Breed
Many Breed
May Bender
Yam Bender
Nary Embed
Yarn Embed
A Bender My
A Derby Men
A Berm Deny
A By Mender
Dab Men Rye
Dab Rem Yen
Bad Men Rye
Bad Rem Yen
Debar En My
Bread En My
Bared En My
Beard En My
Band Ere My
Band Em Rye
Band Me Rye
Band Rem Ye
Brand Em Ye
Brand Me Ye
Bandy Em Re
Bandy Me Re
Drab Nee My
Drab Em Yen
Drab Me Yen
Drab Men Ye
Brad Nee My
Brad Em Yen
Brad Me Yen
Brad Men Ye
Bard Nee My
Bard Em Yen
Bard Me Yen
Bard Men Ye
Beam Dry En
Bean Red My
Bean Dry Em
Bean Dry Me
Bane Red My
Bane Dry Em
Bane Dry Me
Brae End My
Brae Den My
Bare End My
Bare Den My
Bear End My
Bear Den My
Ban Reed My
Ban Deer My
Ban Dyer Em
Ban Dyer Me
Ban Dye Rem
Nab Reed My
Nab Deer My
Nab Dyer Em
Nab Dyer Me
Nab Dye Rem
Barn Dye Em
Barn Dye Me
Bran Dye Em
Bran Dye Me
Bra Need My
Bra Mend Ye
Bra Deny Em
Bra Deny Me
Bra Dye Men
Bar Need My
Bar Mend Ye
Bar Deny Em
Bar Deny Me
Bar Dye Men
Bray Ed Men
Bray End Em
Bray End Me
Bray Den Em
Bray Den Me
Bay Mend Re
Bay End Rem
Bay Den Rem
Bay Nerd Em
Bay Nerd Me
Bay Rend Em
Bay Rend Me
Bay Red Men
Ad Berm Yen
Named By Re
Maned By Re
Admen By Re
Amend By Re
Armed By En
Dream By En
Dean By Rem
Read By Men
Dear By Men
Dare By Men
Damn Be Rye
Damn Bye Re
Damn Bey Re
Damn By Ere
Dram Be Yen
Dram Bye En
Dram Bey En
Dram By Nee
And Beer My
And Berm Ye
And Bye Rem
And Bey Rem
And By Mere
Darn Bee My
Darn Bye Em
Darn Bye Me
Darn Bey Em
Darn Bey Me
Rand Bee My
Rand Bye Em
Rand Bye Me
Rand Bey Em
Rand Bey Me
Randy Be Em
Randy Be Me
Rad Been My
Rad Bye Men
Rad Bey Men
Dray Be Men
Yard Be Men
Day Berm En
Mean Be Dry
Mean By Red
Mane Be Dry
Mane By Red
Name Be Dry
Name By Red
Amen Be Dry
Amen By Red
Ream By End
Ream By Den
Mare By End
Mare By Den
Nae Bred My
Near Deb My
Near Bed My
Earn Deb My
Earn Bed My
Ear Bend My
Ear By Mend
Era Bend My
Era By Mend
Are Bend My
Are By Mend
Am Bend Rye
Am Bred Yen
Am Derby En
Am Be Nerdy
Am Been Dry
Am Bye Nerd
Am Bye Rend
Am Bey Nerd
Am Bey Rend
Ma Bend Rye
Ma Bred Yen
Ma Derby En
Ma Be Nerdy
Ma Been Dry
Ma Bye Nerd
Ma Bye Rend
Ma Bey Nerd
Ma Bey Rend
Man Deb Rye
Man Bed Rye
Man Bred Ye
Man Be Dyer
Man Bee Dry
Man Bye Red
Man Bey Red
Man By Reed
Man By Deer
Myna Deb Re
Myna Bed Re
Myna Be Red
Many Deb Re
Many Bed Re
Many Be Red
Arm Deb Yen
Arm Bed Yen
Arm Bend Ye
Arm Be Deny
Arm Bye End
Arm Bye Den
Arm Bey End
Arm Bey Den
Arm By Need
Mar Deb Yen
Mar Bed Yen
Mar Bend Ye
Mar Be Deny
Mar Bye End
Mar Bye Den
Mar Bey End
Mar Bey Den
Mar By Need
Ram Deb Yen
Ram Bed Yen
Ram Bend Ye
Ram Be Deny
Ram Bye End
Ram Bye Den
Ram Bey End
Ram Bey Den
Ram By Need
Army Deb En
Army Bed En
Army Be End
Army Be Den
May Bend Re
May Bred En
May Be Nerd
May Be Rend
Yam Bend Re
Yam Bred En
Yam Be Nerd
Yam Be Rend
An Breed My
An Derby Em
An Derby Me
An Berm Dye
Ran By Deem
Ran By Meed
Nary Deb Em
Nary Deb Me
Nary Bed Em
Nary Bed Me
Yarn Deb Em
Yarn Deb Me
Yarn Bed Em
Yarn Bed Me
Nay Deb Rem
Nay Bed Rem
Nay Bred Em
Nay Bred Me
Nay Berm Ed
Any Deb Rem
Any Bed Rem
Any Bred Em
Any Bred Me
Any Berm Ed
Ray Deb Men
Ray Bed Men
Ray Bend Em
Ray Bend Me
Ray Be Mend
Ay Bend Rem
Ay Bred Men
Ay Berm End
Ay Berm Den
Ya Bend Rem
Ya Bred Men
Ya Berm End
Ya Berm Den
A Bend Re My
A Bred En My
A Be Nerd My
A Be Rend My
A Be Dry Men
A By Mend Re
A By End Rem
A By Den Rem
A By Nerd Em
A By Nerd Me
A By Rend Em
A By Rend Me
A By Red Men
Dab En Re My
Bad En Re My
Ban Ed Re My
Nab Ed Re My
Bra Ed En My
Bar Ed En My
Ad By Men Re
Ad By Rem En
Dam By En Re
Mad By En Re
And Be Re My
And By Em Re
And By Me Re
Rad Be En My
Rad By Em En
Rad By Me En
Am Be Dry En
Am By End Re
Am By Den Re
Am By Red En
Ma Be Dry En
Ma By End Re
Ma By Den Re
Ma By Red En
Man By Ed Re
Arm By Ed En
Mar By Ed En
Ram By Ed En
An Deb Re My
An Bed Re My
An Be Red My
An Be Dry Em
An Be Dry Me
An By Ed Rem
An By Red Em
An By Red Me
Ran Be Ed My
Ran By Ed Em
Ran By Ed Me

merry easter

re-chillin'... i wish the snow would never end... i hope memorial day weekend has another snowfall, too... we have a double smoked ham for easter, but won't be eating it in faribo this year, for first time in ...38 years. better be a good ham, at least, to make up for mom/bob still being in arizona... the wife didn't even hide my basket... another tragedy on this snowy, cold(hearted) day.




and, i finally tried out the auto timer on the new nikon d40... success. i think we look (deceptively) .. shall i dare say... 'normal'?

just chillin (-illy)

new camera

got a new nikon d40 slr camry...

potpouri

sooo... where to start? tom thinks i should blog about my impressions of the caucus that i went to (along w/ all my like-minded brethren) this week. granted, having all these like minded people in the same room gave me goosebumps, but i'm not sure it's "bloggable". and just so you know, you're now reading a blog from someone who was voted in as the permanent secretary of precinct 13... that's right... i got a badge. a great night, tho, restoring my hope for humanity. and americans. ok, well, at least half of the americans...

reagan is too young to tamp down the emotions she feels. she sees anything w/ elmo (tv, on a diaper, in a book) and it's unbridled bliss. smile ear to ear, audible cooing/giggling, arms flapping, head nodding joy, while trying to hug the elmo diaper or elmo tv or elmo book. i forget how cool it is to have a 1 yr old learning about their world.

big arse glasses on female celebs... makes me want to reach out and smack their stupid arse heads. can we be done w/ those yet? i know this will shock some people, but i'm not into people magazine, or enquirer, or O-prah, etc... but i still can't avoid seeing these anorexic, coked up, hair weaved, orange-fake tanned, botoxed, primped, tucked, nipped, stupid, fake, immature, no talent sk*nks w/ their water bottles in hand, and big arse sunglasses on, striking a pose while trying to look like they aren't striking a pose. just OD already and let's move on.

so, we had some very adequate canister recessed lighting in our home... but was the wife happy? oh, no... she wanted bigger cans. and who could blame her? so we took the plunge and got some bigger canisters installed... cha ching... so if anyone wants some floor lights, lemme know - they're yours. if not, craigs list is a callin'.

that is all...

80s dating service - best of...

yes, it pry goes w/out saying, but the below youtube has sound... i love the bbq/used salesman guy... i'd date him.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AC5BIuhQBy0

thin to win... you gotta have faith

interesting photoshopping... click on picture to make it big and see the 'before and after'

money magazine and me - part 2

sooo... i organized a local chapter of the vanguard diehards (see below story in the strib). on the nationwide forum (diehards.org) a money magazine journalist (pat regnier) sent messages to local chapter organizers, asking for input on what we do online. so, i sent him a blurb, he asked for a picture, voila. picture and a paragraph made the cut into the magazine... my only regret is that they cropped hunter out. oh, one more regret... i asked pat to put any of my quotes in lowercase... he said it wouldn't make it by the final editor. also, it was somewhat paraphrased... i don't say "poof" too much in day to day conversation. ("puff", sure, but not poof). so, for the 2 million folks who get money, check it out jan-2008, page 70. actually, they call readership 8 million, w/ 2 million paid (libraries, offices, household members, etc).

=============

and below are the 'reject' pix...