I Couldn't Deprive You of This....

Hola Amigos,

I've been busy. Real frickin' busy! The wife and I started a new business this summer, PopMyTop, LLC. We are distributors of the Bottle Popper, a really unique and revolutionary bottle cap remover. It's a product that you can live without, but you shouldn't!
I was taking a break from pursuing some leads and stumbled across this:



Now, I don't know about you, but I am fascinated by competitive eating. Not obsessed, but fascinated. There is a league for this "sport." Can you believe it? But hey, this is America. God bless us everyone. We are all entitled to chase our dreams. If those dreams include shoving six friggin' pounds of meat into our bodies, washed down by a little plastic cup of wetness, well, so be it!

All hail Joey Chesnutt!

Picasso Casserole

They say that life imitates art.

That's bullshit.

I say it's the other way around. Besides, who are "they" anyway? Art is a reflection of life, put forth by an artist who expresses their feelings through their craft. Whether it be Kurt Cobain singing about a heart shaped box, or a child drawing finger paintings on a piece of construction paper; what is portrayed is a piece of life being shared with the rest of the world.

One of my favorite quotes in life is from Picasso. He said, "All children are artists. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up." I'll admit that the first time I ever read this quote, I took it way too literally. When most people think of Picasso, they think of painting, perhaps abstract painting or one of the many types of categorical "isms" that painters fall into (modernism, cubism, existentialism, etc). However after reading deeper into this, (and not to get all philosophical on my readers), I have come to realize that art imitating life makes everyone's time spent on this earth not just a canvas, per se, but also a song, a sculpture, or whatever you make it.

For some, theft is their art. For others, it could be the ability to sell ice to an eskimo. My point is that everyone has a gift and not everyone has the self esteem to nurture that gift. Sure, the thief might get caught someday and thrown in jail, or the salesman might happen to catch someone on a bad day who just doesn't feel like buying a new set of Cutco knives. It happens to the best of us. We all want to throw in the towel at some point when we are at our lowest. That is when you take inventory and realize that some if us paint with a different brush. Some of us use broader strokes than others. We are all different artists. I am a different artist. I accept that and move on with my life, painting beautiful masterpieces along the way!

Don't Ever Buy A Timeshare!

Where the fuck did I go wrong?

Can someone please explain to me why my Vegas timeshare won't sell?

I got a call today from one of the agencies that I "hired" to sell my timeshare. The offer that they made to me was insulting! It was basically less than half of what we paid for our timeshare. It was also the first offer that we have received for our property since signing up with this company back in April. They've got until October 6 to sell it or I get my money back. I hope they sell it for both of our sakes!

Being a person who likes to travel under my own terms, I'm not quite sure why I bought into the idea of having a company control where and when I vacation. That mentality kinda goes against everything I stand for. But when you sign your life on that dotted line, they have got you!

So my advice people; don't buy a timeshare. Keep your money in a savings account or something and spend it on vacation when and where you want to. If, God forbid, you ever wanted to sell your property, you have a whole host of ravenous, blood-sucking agencies out there that would love to take your money and give you absolutely nothing in return. Trust me.

Competitive Eating: Entertainment or Vulgarity?

Ahhh the Fourth of July.

It comes but once a year.

Our forefathers had the right idea of freeing us from the tyrannical grip of their homeland regime. They all met up and took turns signing an oversized piece of parchment declaring that the collective 13 colonies originally included were forming a united front. That's what our history books tell us.

However, if you read the text very closely, you'll see that the declaration is basically a bitch-fest, pointing out all the "abuses and usurpations" that the despotic king of Britain inflicted upon said forefathers. These guys were pissed and they weren't taking anyone's shit any longer! They declared a separation from Britain and started their own united "States of America," as they called it. You know the rest.

Or do you?

You see, we as present day Americans take what we want from the declaration. We remember the following line:

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."

Sure, these brave patriots started a revolution and opened the doors of possibility. I benefit from their bravery every day as a purveyor of novelty bottle openers. So, like Lenny Kravitz, what I really want to know is: Did these 56 men have any idea that "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness" would eventually pave the way for Joey Chestnut (left), and Takeru Kobayashi to shove a combined 132 hot dogs and buns into their faces 233 years later?

Fourth of July shouldn't be considered a novelty or be taken lightly by any means. Sure, my Scottish friend Billy rants about how it's "just another day" to him, but let me get on the phone to the I.N.S. and see how quickly he changes his tune. My point is that it's a fabulous time for us all to be proud of being Americans. Yes, we should celebrate and BBQ with the family, even though some of them may get on our nerves (that's why we drink alcohol, right?). Yes, we should definitely check out an extravagant fireworks show, or better yet, cross state lines or visit the nearest Indian reservation to obtain our own. After all, emergency room doctors need action too.

But what of the unconventional or unorthodox traditions? What of Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest that they hold every year at Coney Island? Tradition...or just flat out gluttony? We all have opinions and to quote Tevye from Fiddler on the Roof, I say Tradition! In my book, The MLE (Major League Eating) takes precedence over MLB, NFL, PGA, Wimbledon, and whatever else is on the tube on my country's birthday.

I figured out long time ago, that to find the proper answers, you sometimes have to figure them out on your own using common sense. Why does one of my all-time heroes, Tom Brady, have three Super Bowl rings, a league MVP, and countless other records, yet Joey Harrington, an equally successful college quarterback, never could catch on at the NFL level? It's called skill. Brady has tools that Harrington doesn't. Maybe it boils down to a hunger for winning that the former possesses and the latter doesn't? I doubt it. I think they are both physically different people. But hey, speaking of hunger...

The NFL has been around a long time, but has only held 43 Super Bowls. The Nathan's Famous International Fourth of July Hot Dog Eating Championship has been held each year on July 4 since 1916, according to archives. You tell me what sounds more American! Besides, isn't the Super Bowl just an excuse for us all to join a more "domestic" faction of the MLE? Super Bowl Sunday is kind of like a "mini July 4th" except it takes place five months earlier. We stuff our faces with chips & dip, wings, burgers, brownies, etc. Some of us even try to emulate the MLE champions of the world, only to find that we are just as unfit to participate in professional eating as we are professional football. Sad, but true.

That is why I love this particular eating contest. Here are some facts:

• Kobayashi won six straight Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contests from 2001-2006. I'm sorry, I'm not doing him justice by saying that he won: he demolished the competition and shattered world records. There...that's better.
  
• The previous high mark before Kobayashi won his first "Mustard Yellow Belt" was 25 1/8. Kobayashi ate 50!
• Joey Chestnut came onto the competitive eating scene in 2005 and has won the last three Nathan's contests.
  
• Last year, it was close...he beat Kobayashi in a "dog-off," after both had consumed 59 dogs at the end of regulation. Not too shabby!
• This year, he beat him by four dogs. Most of us can't even eat four dogs in one sitting!
  

As you can see, these two, ahem, gents have taken competitive eating to a whole new level. Their rivalry is one for the books. Like Federer/Nadal, Capulet/Montague, or Tom/Jerry. These guys are freaks of nature, but also train their bodies just like athletes do before big games or meets. It is a fascinating spectacle and one that I argue to be part side show, part adrenaline, and a whole lot of desire. After all, it takes "guts" to do what these guys do!

So when I see a melange of people from all over the world congregate at Coney Island to shove frankfurters down their throats on a day in which I raise not only a flag, but a beer as well, I have to reserve part of my day in their honor. After all, had John Hancock and the boys remained complacent about getting pushed around by some London Sillynanny, odds are we might never have gained the privilege of seeing such an awesome 10 minutes of television.

I'll leave you with the last 3:30...If you can "stomach" it!

Donkey Kong, Pepsi Free and The Glorious Lack of Social Networking

Admit it...you have no idea what time it is.

No, really...you don't wear a watch and you don't really care to.
All that's on your mind is simply figuring out where you're going to find that next quarter to plunk into the Donkey Kong machine.

Admit it...


You can't stand the fact that a very large ape has stolen your girlfriend. I mean, who would be okay with that! Jump some barrels here? Sure. Hammer some barrels there? Why not! And all for the sake of saving a damsel in distress.

What if she wasn't in distress though?

What if she really loved the ape and you (as the player) are just interfering in their love life? Maybe you are the ex-husband of the damsel, and your quest is to get her back so she can sign the divorce papers?

Who knows what the storyline is behind Mario, the ape, and the damsel in distress.

Why is it relevant?
It isn't.
The only thing that's really relevant is that you found some bottles or cans in the neighborhood and turned them in for the change to make a few good memories that you'll carry forever.

Make sense?

I remember when you could buy a Pepsi Free for around $.50/can. I also remember when you could get a Rocky Road candy bar for a quarter too. Imagine having a soda, a candy bar and one round of Donkey Kong, and only paying a buck. WOW!

C'mon, where's your sense of memory? Video games and tasty beverages were what brought out the innocence of childhood. Well, okay, maybe cruisin' the black-lit oval at Skate World while Beat It blared over the cheap and muffled stereo system was a close second. I think that today's youth just doesn't appreciate how cool we had it. We actually socialized with each other...in person. We didn't text each other when we wanted to break up. We didn't meet people across the country on the computer, then take a plane ride to meet them. We had what was in front of us. We had to put up with the same girls and guys that we went to school with year after year.

But it was fun wasn't it?

I'm sure you've heard by now that the King of Pop has died. His poor little heart gave way and now he's devoid of the stress that this cruel world thrust upon him. He didn't get to partake in drinking pop and roaming the 'hood for recyclables. Nope. He was too busy hanging with rats named Ben and taking lashes from his pops. While it's sad, because it seems as if my generational icons are dropping off like body parts in a leper colony today, I have become somewhat numb to it. I'll write more about that at another time, but it's a sign of the times for us children of the 70's and 80's. This guy was bigger than life! Any bets on which Michael they'll put on the postage stamp? White Michael or black Michael? Little Michael or masked Michael?

I was sitting at lunch when I got the text. Okay, we all want to be in the know, but remember when people used to die and you had to wait days to find out how, when, why, etc? Due to mass technology, Farah had her run for, oh, about 8 hours today. MJ totally trumped her. I'm sure there is also an unscrupulous governor of South Carolina that's sighing a breath of relief now that his story of a Venezualan tryst has been pushed to page 10. That's the power of technology. Twitter is jammed to the point that their servers are probably about to melt. Rumors are going around that Jeff Goldblum also died today. Man! What a day of ups and downs that technology has brought us!

Sometimes you just want to retreat back to the days of old and remember when news wasn't plastered all over the place. I know I want to. I liked MJ back in the day. Who didn't? He was revolutionary, but I turned in my glove when he was linked to the child molestation allegations. Plus, that HIStory album really sucked! It's like OJ; you know he probably did it, but you want to believe deep down that he didn't. Remember the Bronco chase? Brought to you by technology...and your local sponsor!

Sometimes, we need to let go of technology, especially on days like today. We are whores though. We can't live without our iPhones and our Blackberries. Do I really want to watch them take the corpse out of the helicopter? How macabre is that? Damn you Larry King. Just show some pictures of Little Michael or something. Now I'm scarred, damnit! I'm switching it over to MTV!

My point: Get off the computer. Go hug your kids. Go take them out for a Canadian bacon/pineapple pizza and some root beer. Leave your phone at home. Get out and play some Donkey Kong.

You never know...a little Italian plumber in coveralls could be the answer for us all tonight.



.

Dad's Day and Jammin' at the Sapphire Hotel

Damn you Hallmark!

Damn you to hell!

Is Father's Day one of your brilliant ideas? Like Valentine's Day, it picks on those who don't really have someone to say I love you too. I know what your intention is, but, man, you really know how to put a hurtin' on people who have lost their dads.

Okay, so I'm taking a positive and turning it into a negative, right? Yeah I know. But I can't really help it. There are so many people out there that probably feel the same way I do. I guess I got lucky because there are so many people that also never had a dad, father or step-father to learn from. While Father's Day is bittersweet for me, having lost my dad to cancer eight years ago, it also takes on a separate meaning for me now, being a stepdad myself.

My dad (he was actually my stepdad, but I like to call him my dad) was the one that drove me to work so I could earn money to pay for my first car and the insurance to go along with it. I'm sure having to get up at 7 am on weekends to drive me to and from work was really a joy for him, but he did it regardless. He would haul my ass back and forth from college every year too, with his trailer in tow, and was always there when I needed him. He did it out of love, not obligation. Okay, there was a little bit of obligation! He was also the one that drove me to my football, baseball, wrestling, track, and basketball practices and games. When the time came, the man taught me how to drive a stick too. I'm sure my access to a car lifted a huge burden off his shoulders! However, the biggest lesson he taught me was that life is worth living and that love sees no boundaries. He truly was a renaissance man. I think Father's Day means so much more now that he's physically absent. It is very true that sometimes you just don't know what you've got 'til it's gone.

My Father's Day was spent with the wifey and two of the boys at one of our favorite watering holes, the Rock Creek Tavern. Not feeling too hot about the day to start, I was revived by the gift I received. Wifey and the boys gave me a little bound booklet, full of pictures taken over the years, some of the boys, some of me, some of the wife and I and some of our doggie, Tomo. It really made my eyes well up to see the effort put into creating this booklet. It sure beats the hell out of a tie or a golf shirt or something predictable. Nope. This gift hit the ball out of the park. It moved me. It made me realize that it doesn't have to be as bad as it may seem.

I went to the cemetery and put some flowers on my dad's grave later in the day. I hadn't been there in a while, not out of neglect, but just because the grave is more of a symbol to me. I don't necessarily need the symbol to remind me, because I'm reminded every day. Plus, in the bible, there is a passage somewhere that says, "don't come to my grave, for I will not be there," or something of that nature. I think it was the bible...maybe it was just some old adage or proverb. Regardless, the meaning is understood. I don't need to go to a physical site to be reminded of all the things my dad did for me.

I finished up my Father's Day with a gig at the Sapphire Hotel. It's a cool joint with a good vibe, great food, and Stella on tap. Any place that has Stella on tap is definitely worth frequenting! We were cramped in there, but we pulled it off. It was a great ending to a day that started off with questions and doubts. I love making music and to end the day doing just that, it was truly a blessing. We had a good time playing, which is the whole point of making music. One of these days perhaps I can quit my day job of selling trade show booths online.

Nawww, I don't think so.

Ladies and Gentlemen, The UnderCovers.

Twitter Addictions, Bambi and Dream On

Okay, Ill admit it:

I'm a Twitter addict.

I jumped on the wagon to see what the fuss is about and now I find myself learning the finer points of hashtags and retweets, sifting through the mindless drivel that most of the MLM guys post and wrestling with how to use this tool to my advantage. Will it help me sell a few more trade show exhibits? Perhaps. Will it keep me up to date and abreast on what absolute strangers are up to? Yes. But like Howard Stern's listeners, I want to know what's going to happen next.

You see, I am a no-nonsense type of guy. An intellectual figure who gets by on wits, my English degree, Rockstar Zero Carb, and my MacBook Pro. My office is my living room. Here's a shot of my view...everyday:

Let me tell you, this beats being in a cubicle. I have full access to my kitchen (right behind me), I have peace and quiet, and I don't have to deal with being pestered by corporate suck-ups who will do whatever it takes (including losing their identity and mores) to get ahead.

Ahhh the good life, right? Well, yes and no. I remember the steady paychecks and health insurance I used to get. They were great weren't they! I remember the smart people who saw the cracks in the system and tried to fix them with me. Yeah, I really miss corroborating with them. But I also saw the "lifers." Those folks who were complacent and just "happy to be employed." They reminded me of that old Monster.com commercial, where they had the little kids talking about how they wanted to "work their way up to middle management." That was true of my previous corporate employer. Imagine working in a place filled with people who were just happy to be there, satisfied with the banal, mediocre lives they were living. Day after day after day after day.

I digress.

So when Twitter hit the scene, I was really hesitant to join because a) I didn't know how this tool could be used -I was ignorant, like much of America probably still is about it- and b) it reminded me of someone who used to throw around a word that made my blood curdle.

Now we've probably all seen Bambi by now. If you are reading this post and you haven't been enlightened by one of Walt Disney's most controversial animated films, shame on your parents. How can they even look at themselves in the mirror? However, assuming that you have seen it, I'm going to press on like Lee's Nails.

I had this co-worker, one that I worked intimately with by no choice of my own, who really was a lifer. One day in a meeting, she used the word "twitterpated" and I about fell out of my seat. Ugggghhhh! That is such an ugly word. Why couldn't she have just said that so-and-so was "pissed off," or "flustered?" She had to go into the Bambi bag of vocab. She had to give me a reminder of her for the rest of my days.

I remember watching an episode of Dream On once, you remember, that old HBO series with Brian Benben as Martin Tupper. Well, he was trying to convince a black friend that he was hip to African-American culture by trying to use black slang, but he would overuse it and end up looking like a fool. The one incidence from that episode that has forever stuck in my mind was when he was eating some chips n' dip and he turns to his friend and says, "This dip is really....Def!" Now if you have ever seen the show, you'd know that the series is crammed full of hundreds of clips from all manner of old films, used as metaphors for Martin's reactions (hence the title). After he makes his remark about the dip, it cuts to a clip of an old film where a male actor says, "That's my word for the day." This is exactly what I thought of after hearing the word "twitterpated" come gurgling out of her lips.

However this wasn't her word of the day. No, this word became her word of the week, month, year, you name it! What was a boy to do, but carry around a pail to meetings so I could deposit my lunch into it. Ahhh, corporate America...why did I leave?

So you can imagine how difficult it is when I hear all these variations of Twitter apps and devices used for twittering (or is it tweeting?...who knows what the preferred nomenclature is). It brings back memories that need not be resurrected. I laid them to rest over a year ago, but like Lazarus, they find a way to live. The saddest part is that I am addicted to Twitter. So i have a feeling that these memories aren't going away anytime soon.

Does anyone out there know a good hypnotist?

Getting my Car Fixed: "It's all Ball Bearings These Days!"

There are three things that, to me, are just a complete waste of the almighty dollar. Allow me to list them for you:

1. Fireworks
2. Presto logs
3. Auto repair

The former is basically just burning money. Sure, you might get 2-8 seconds worth of entertainment, but for the money you are spending, you might as well roll a stogie with your money and start puffin'. Plus, I don't know of many fireworks factories in the U.S., so I'm guessing they're all imported from China. That's even worse! They get our money, and we end up getting "burned!" Best case scenario: it keeps emergency room doctors from clogging up the unemployment line.

Numero dos on my list is just an invention that a sawdust salesman probably invented to capitalize on the lazy, those who live in the desert states, and soccer moms. If you have a fireplace, why would you want to burn anything but wood? Besides, you do the math:

Cord of wood = $170
Box of 6 Presto logs = $20

A cord of wood will last you a whole winter and yields several hundreds of real, natural, clean burning wood logs. For the same price, you can get 51 presto logs....51 LOGS!! And who knows what kind of chemicals they put in those things so they instantly light. Again, burning money.

Number three on this list is what prompted me to think about #s 1 & 2. I took my car into the mechanic because I was having some issues with vibration in the front tires and it turns out my front struts need replacing, I've got a bad left wheel bearing and that's not to mention the other services they "recommend," like flushing the power steering fluid, replacing the drive belts and inspecting the engine. I know I've been really lucky with this car, and I'd be screwed without it, but c'mon, do I really think that a mechanic should make comparable hourly wages to what some physicians are making? Is a hunk of metal as important as flesh and bone?

I provide a service too, but people need tradeshow booths to help them generate new clients and advertise their products. I don't charge people an arm and a leg.

Here I am, out $530 to the mechanic. It probably took him an hour or less to fix my car. Yes it will last longer now and run smoother, and I'm not necessarily bitter at him, just the whole concept of cars being a drain. They lose their value the minute you drive them off the lot. If that isn't a sign of waste, then I'm not sure what is!

On Graduation and Coach Foust

It's that time of year again. Graduation time! Another wave of kids having absolutely no clue what the future holds outside of high school, yet knowing that they are happy to be done with it. I know. I've been there and it doesn't seem like it was that long ago. And it wasn't a pleasant experience at the time. Now I've got a second stepson that I get to witness go through the process. It sure brings back memories each time. For me, I only have one positive lasting memory of graduation day though, and until now, I really didn't realize what an impact it had on my life.

I remember sitting in the Chiles Center with my cap and gown, looking up into the crowd for my family. My family who had come to see me walk up and get my diploma that I earned through hard work, perseverance, and barely getting through Mr Nye's Algebra II class! So as my eagle eye perused the audience, what did I see, but a glimpse of my "recently ex"-girlfriend sitting with her mom and...her loser ex-boyfriend?? WTF? We we're just a few weeks removed and she's back together with that stoner?

Yeah that was a great memory! With all the emotions running high, I was already an anxious mess and this was the cherry on the sundae, the straw that broke...well you get the jist! My stomach turned sour and I lost it and had to get up and run to the bathroom. I'm in there crying, sobbing, hyperventilating, when ol' Coach Foust walks in and asks me what's wrong. "What's wrong?...What isn't wrong right now," I'm thinking to myself. Nonetheless, I spilled my guts to him in that empty bathroom. I told him that seeing her up there with that other guy really knocked me for a loop. In the process, I learned alot about how compassionate the human race can be.

You see, I played football in high school. However I wasn't a jock, I was a "student-athlete." Jocks were the ones that wore sweatsuits to school, frequently left loogies in the water fountains and picked on the intellectually gifted kids. Nope, I was a student athlete, a good guy, a friend to all, ala Ferris Bueller! I wore silk shirts, Z Cavaricci pants, and the latest Capezzio footwear that Jay Jacobs had to offer. Coach Foust was a coach on our football team and doubled as a P.E. teacher, not the type of authority figure that most kids took seriously because, well, he taught an easy subject. A subject that wasn't given credence because it really wasn't going to hinder your entrance into major colleges. Well, I remember there were several occasions during football practices or games when our head coach and Coach Foust would argue about something. Perhaps a formation? Maybe a blocking assignment? I always remembered feeling sorry for Coach Foust because Coach Ackerman would tell him flat out that he was wrong in front of all of us. How ballsy was that? Didn't even pull him aside and discuss it in a civil manner. Just berated his opinion, demasculating him in front of all of us. Foust never retaliated or took the lower road, as he was a fairly calm man. That is what I respected about him then. I'm sure he had his words with Coach Ack in private though. God, I hope he did!

My senior year, I was summoned to Coach Foust's office after a practice. We were in the playoffs that year and it just so happened to be the week we were preparing for our quarterfinal matchup against the perennial power that was Roseburg High. At the time, it made me curious as to why Coach Foust wanted to see me because he wasn't my positions coach. Was I in trouble? I entered his office and he was sitting there, all calm as can be, and he just cut to the chase:

"Rich, do you think that we have a shot at beating Roseburg?"

Now what kind of question was that? Was it a trick question? It sure was a loaded question. I didn't know what his M.O. was, so I replied:

"Of course we do."

To which he replied:

"I'm not so sure that you think we can win. I can see it in your eyes. You are pretty easy to read and not very good at hiding your emotions."

I immediately started thinking, "okay what did I say or do to make him think this?" But the guy was right. He could read me. He could probably sense that I was losing the passion for the game, that I had my doubts. What did he see? I replied with my best line of bullshit, trying to convince him that I was onboard and that we were going to crush those Indians. I'm not sure he bought it. Heck, I'm not sure if I even bought it! This guy was the first adult mentor to ever tell me that I am readable.

To make a long story short, we ended up losing 36-0, eliminating us from the playoffs and officially ending my career as a football player. However, I gained a respect for a coach that cared about my feelings and not just how tightly I could cover opposing receivers, or how elusive I was after making a catch. No, this man actually cared about my psyche. In all the years of playing sports, I never had anyone call this into question or even give a damn.

So you can imagine how apropos it was that he was the one that came to my aid in that lonely bathroom, while the whole auditorium was filled with proud families, nervous/anxious kids, and teachers who were standing guard to make sure that no shenanigans broke out. I didn't see him as a coach that day, rather a concerned teacher trying to calm down an obviously distraught kid who needed some serious calming.

As I returned to my seat, things were a blur after that. I remember getting up and walking in a single file line to get my diploma. I had done it. I didn't know what was coming next in my life, but I had just closed a chapter of what were soon to be many. I graduated and wasn't looking back.

Years later when my little brother would attend the same school, I would hear stories from my stepdad about how Coach Foust was a solid guy who really cared.

I already knew. I still know.

Last I heard, Coach Foust was coaching and teaching somewhere on the Oregon coast. Wherever he is, I'm sure he has no clue that he provided me with the grandest memory of my high school graduation.

Thanks Dave Foust. Thanks a million!



(In this picture, you can see Coach Foust, right, checking
up on me after the ceremony. Also, here is further proof
that I wore Z Cavarrici's!)

....It's About That Time, People!

It's Friday.

Yes indeed.

The day that everybody, especially those fine Canajun gents in Loverboy, is looking forward to. And yet here I am at 4:00 in the p.m., writing a blog entry on a beautiful, sunny day. Perhaps I need a nap. Yeah, that's it. Get a little lazy and unwind from the week. If the wife and the dog can do it, why can't I?

Well I can't. I have to keep working.

You see, there is much to be done. This entrepreneur is not going to take the easy route of bailing early on a Friday! Oh no, I'm working until......4:30, darnit!

Tonight looks like a night out on the town with wifey, something we haven't done in a while. Dinner at Harborside, a walk on the waterfront boardwalk and then maybe a nightcap somewhere else. As long as we can enjoy ourselves and not have to worry about anything or anybody, we'll have ourselves a good time. We always do.

It's been a very eventful week and I look forward to the relaxation of the weekend. I want to rest as peaceful and carefree as my doggie. Just look at that picture. Sometimes I think he's part human.

So why am I writing a blog entry you ask? I ask myself the same question. I mean, I could be starting my weekend early, knocking back a couple of cold, cold ones. But I'm not. I'm quasi-disciplined. Plus I don't have any cold, cold ones in the fridge. That's not a good thing. Maybe I'll make myself some crazy rum concoction with the Flor de Cana that my mom brought me back from Nicaragua last month. It's the 7-year, you know.

In all honesty, I think the reason why I'm writing something drab is to avoid messin' around with my site. I've been at it all day, pretty much non-stop and writing is an escape outlet....a release. A way to get my mind off of trade show displays for at least a couple of minutes.

I promise to write something more interesting in the next post. I'll get into some trouble over the weekend and use it as an excuse to write!

Yeah....that's the ticket! Trouble..with a capital "T" that rhymes with "P"......

Ah you get the point!

Memorializing Americans Like Dee

Okay, so I'm a day late on this one, but I can't own a company called American Displays Co., purveyors of fine American-made trade show conference displays, and not mention something about those who made it possible for us.

Too many people in this country aren't quite sure what Memorial Day encompasses. Is it a day to remember our loved ones that are no longer with us? Yes. Is it a day to remember our fallen war heroes that served their country so valiantly that they sacrificed themselves so that we may have a better life? Yes. Is it a day to relax and be closer to the family unit? Yes. Of all the holidays that the USA boasts (and I mean the ones in which government entities are closed), Memorial Day means the most to me now.

I didn't used to think this way. In fact up until about 2000, I have to admit that July 4th was probably my favorite holiday. Smack dab in the middle of the summer...usually always hot weather...parades and barbecues. I probably thought this because it was an excuse to take off work and drink beer! Not until the Memorial Day of 2001 did this change my perspective.

It was in January of 2001 that I lost the most important man in my life, my step-father Dee Pileggi. This man taught me how to be a man through example. Most of my life, I liked to learn through trial and error, not listening, but his lessons could not be ignored. I like to refer to him as a renaissance man. A real man's man. Hunted elk every fall, and could rebuild a car engine in no time. One of my biggest regrets in life was not spending enough time with him in his shop. I was young and flighty at the time, and had other plans with my life. I can say this though: hindsight is a cruel bitch!

When you lose a parent or a spouse, that pain never dies. For some, it can eventually kill you. For example my grandparents (Dee's parents): when my grandpa died, my grandmother didn't survive the year. She succombed shortly thereafter. Some can say she died of old age, or health reasons. I know she died from a broken heart. That shows you the power of love.

And I did love Dee. Still do. He taught me what I needed to know to become a step-father. Yes, he ran a little roughshod over all of us at times, his temper flaring like a pack of hemorrhoids. But we loved him for it. I loved him for it. I now know where he was coming from, as I deal with similar situations in life. I just wish that he was around to solicite advice from today.

As we walk down the road of life and try to read the signs between the traffic, the smog and small furry dead things, we realize that memorializing our past is not dwelling. It is not unhealthy to remember and get sad. It is natural. Something that is enevitably going to happen year after year as we all age. We are going to attend more funerals, suffer more loss and memorialize more of our friends and loved ones. Thus goes the circle of life. We can't stop it.

I miss Dee...and I thank him for teaching me a posthumous lesson about what that third weekend in May is really about.

You Wanna Know Why I Hate the Lakers?

Hate.
Such a strong word. Such a powerful word. Such an overused word.

"I hate lima beans."

"I hate James Blunt."

"I hate it when my hair flips out on the sides."

People toss the word around everyday, just as common as the sun rises and sinks. You know the saying that it takes more work to love than it does to hate? Well, it takes more effort to discuss the pleasantries of life than it does to rip on the neo-maxie zoomed dweebie who works in Membership Accounting while huddled around the water cooler with your work cronies. I mean seriously, is it cool to rip on everyone and everything because you think it sounds cool to? It's like that scene in Hitch when Albert and Alegra go to the art show and he meets those two poseur friends of hers...negativity personified. Egads! (or Egan!)

The answer is "sometimes." Yes, hate is a household word. Like Bubba Gump Shrimp, or Sham-WOW. It rolls off the tongue without hesitation. Yours truly has fallen victim to the hate bug from time to time. One of those times was last night.

I attended a viewing of Game 1 of the Western Conference Finals (WCF) between the Denver Nuggets and the LA Lakers last night at my friend James' place. A small congregation of 30-somethings with an interest in seeing a decent game take place. What I saw...was a flashback!

[enter wacky arm motions, ala Wayne's World]

The year was 2000. The date was Sunday, June 4. The place was my friend Garon's living room. The situation was Game 7 of the WCF between the Lakers and our hometown Portland Trailblazers. The outcome was a fourth quarter, double-digit collapse by the Blazers, resulting in a series ender and eventual championship for the Lakers that year, the first of three straight for both Shaq and Kobe.

I thought I had a good handle on my hate thresholds prior to that day, but I was wrong. We we're all wrong. I had found a new reason to hate...a new vitriol so pure that nobody could ever claim it as their own. Nope. No way on God's green earth that you could ever exorcise me of the ill-will I wanted to inflict upon every player on that team (even A.C. Green!). Kobe and Shaq stole something from me that day. I was robbed.

Then came 2003. Kobe Bryant's sexual assault of a spa employee in Colorado hit the headlines. I hated this guy even more. Where does he get off thinking that the world revolves around him? There is a special place in my heart for people like that. Wait, no, there is a special place in my toilet for people like that! What a dirtbag! Yes the charges of rape were dropped, but I have my suspicions, plus the guy is still an adulterer. Shame on him. How dare he! It was all fuel for my hate fire.

So you can understand my feelings last night when Kobe scored the last four points for his team in a narrow two point victory over a very resilient Nuggets squad. I really hate this guy. I really hate the purple and yellow and I really hate that this douche bag gets to win championships. Hate, hate, hate, hate! I know that there are at least three more games to play, but if they end the way this one did, I'm going to have find an outlet for my frustration.

Maybe I'll write a song about my distaste for the Lakers? Maybe I'll quit my job as a seller of trade show exhibits and accessories and travel the world telling people how much I hate pompous Kobe and the Lakers.

Or maybe I just write about it, go have a beer and put on some James Blunt records!

A Weekend of Decadence.

It's Monday morning. I'm still not right. My head is feeling like the brunt of a prize fight.

There are many rarities in life. One of them is having perfect sunny weather at the Oregon Coast. Another is getting to hang with a crowd of folks that are so cool, you don't want to throttle anybody by the end of the weekend. You don't want to retreat to another part of the house to avoid Mr or Mrs Annoying. Nope. Not this weekend my peeps!

Our good friends, Jodi and Dennis, invited us to celebrate their 15 year anniversary with them at a house on the coast that they rented. This house on the coast. What views! What food! What happened to my firm stance on the non-consumption of red meat and swine?

For those who don't know much about the Oregon Coast, it can be a real fickle, stubborn bitch. That's right, I said it! Having the planets align to get weather that doesn't resemble the likes of that that really bad fishing movie with Clooney and Markey Mark in it is next to impossible. So how did we luck out? I'll tell you why: we brought the positivity with us.

I believe in higher powers. Karma. Kismet. Whatever you want to call it. I know that we were blessed this last weekend. Wifey and I got to meet some really cool people and spend a relaxing weekend with no worries. No worrying about how many leads you have to follow up on....no worries about how many trade show booths one could be selling. The only thing we had to worry about was the inevitable blowing of the keg!

I am grateful to have spent a weekend making memories. Regardless of the speeding ticket i got on the way there, it was still worth it!

Now do I call my insurance guy and report it or not?

Timeshare Fraud

I own a timeshare. Correction: Wifey and I own a timeshare. Bought it on our 1 year anniversary in Maui. We went into Boss Frog's in Kahana just to rent some snorkel gear and the guy at the register roped us into attending the "1-2 hr presentation." Gave us free snorkel gear + $100 cash! How could we say no? Okay, we'll go, listen, then split, right?

Wrong!

We bought into the Tahiti Village Resort (above, right) in sunny Las Vegas! It actually is a decent place. We took the boys there last year on a family vacation. However, who wants to go to Vegas once a year? Sure you can trade your week and go someplace else, but it costs more. Plus, three days in Vegas is enough for me, let alone a full week! Can't we just sell this thing already?

You wouldn't believe how many phone calls I get asking me to sell our timeshare. It's ridiculous! I believe it all started when I actually put it up for sale on one of these Web sites you see advertised on TV (first red flag).
Little did I know, there are companies out there that surf the timeshare sales Web sites and contact the sellers and offer to put your property in front of "prospective buyers" instead of just some Web site that nobody's going to see. Of course, their fee is about double what you just paid to Company A. This non-refundable "marketing fee" is bogus and a scam!

Sad to say, I think I got taken. The jury is still out on that though. If they don't bring me an acceptable offer in 180 days, I get a full refund. Let's just hope the company still exists in 180 days!

In these times, owning a timeshare is like owning a Hummer when gas is $4.50/gallon. It is a luxury and a draining one at that. With the maintenance fees alone, I could take the wife to the coast for the weekend and stay in a really nice room at the Inn at Spanish Head or someplace comparable. So why do I still own this thing you ask? Why haven't I sold it? I'll tell you why: nobody's buying!

So I just continue to make my payments and hope that the economy shores up and I can get rid of this thing before it eats me alive. It's in Las Vegas, so it shouldn't be that hard to unload you'd think. In the meantime, until I sell a few trade show exhibits, like some larger 20' hybrid displays, I'm pretty much praying that this thing doesn't kill me.

If only we would have went to Lahaina to rent snorkel gear...
I could be telling you stories about the fish we saw, not the sharks!

Wishing I was a Paid Comedian!

Mitch Hedberg says, "every picture of you is a picture of you when you were younger!" Talk about a genius dying too soon.

However, it was the way that Mitch delivered his quote that really hit the nail on the head. The guy got paid to tell facts and make them sound like they were jokes.

Was it his delivery? Was it his material? I don't know, but the man was and is incessantly funny. Flavorful and full of vigor. Pithy, terse and succinct. Very rarely do they come around like this guy.

We all have dreams at some point in our lives. Some wet with passion, others dry with death. But like Mitch Hedberg said, we're not getting any younger with each picture we collect. That's why I'd love to be a comedian. Yeah I know...everyone thinks they have the skills to do what the next guy can. It's called competition. If we didn't have competition, well, then I guess we'd all be like the guys in the Joe Walsh song, Ordinary Average Guys.

Mitch was a pro. Although I'd love to make people laugh, it would be a tough road.

I'll continue to make myself laugh I guess, and keep up work on the trade show displays Web site. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

American Displays Co. is Born - Exhibitor News Network (ENN)

My humble little Web site that sells trade show booths has received it's first write-up.

You can read it here.

I guess all that money I spent on getting an English degree sure is paying off! HA HA!!

Cinco De Mayonnaise

Why does the American public think that the 5th of May is actually an American holiday? Because we just want another excuse to party, that's why. Do Mexicans celebrate "Quatro de Julio" in their country, complete with hamburger and hot dog kits from their local Superama? Perhaps they gorge themselves on Budweiser and ribs and blow their index fingers off with firecrackers?
Highly doubtful. (I've personally handled Mexican "dynamite" and let me tell you, it's weak!)

So why the big urge to go out and celebrate something that has little bearing on our country? I don't know, but I did tip my sombrero to my neighbors to the south by cooking up a meal that resembled some of Oaxaca's Finest: Turkey tacos, refried black beans, mexican rice, and the "piece de resistance," fried ice cream. No, I didn't make my own fried ice cream...it actually is a flavor that I found at the store. It amazingly tastes just like the real McCoy, or should I say, the real Martinez!

If that wasn't enough, I traded in my late night work of updating the conference displays on my site to watch one of the funniest movies ever made, The Three Amigos. Combine the food and the movie with a couple glasses of cheap boxed wine and you got yourself a Cinco de Mayo that even Ned Nederlander himself would be proud of. It's just too bad that we only have the movie on VHS...oh the headache! How did we ever survive back in the 80's with that wretched machine being our only source of rented entertainment?

Tracking!!! Tracking!!!!

Of course, with a movie that old, I've got it memorized. No kidding. I could probably go through it and quote every line. But that gets boring after a while, a futile exercise that makes you realize that you're probably never going to get that 2 hrs of your life back (or 90 minutes, as they made 'em back in the old days).
So was it a waste? Seeing Ned, Lucky and Dusty play the fools, only to end up being rewarded by justice in the end? Far from it.
For me, the supporting cast makes the movie one of the best Lorne Michaels films ever: Jefe, El Guapo, The German, The Bartender. They all play integral parts that keep the story ticking...like a "stopvotch." Besides, I'm convinced that the word "plethora" was brought into everyone's vocabulary and made popular in the American lexicon by that pinata conversation between Jefe and El Guapo.

Jefe: I have put many beautiful pinatas in the storeroom, each of them filled with little suprises.
El Guapo: Many pinatas?
Jefe: Oh yes, many!
El Guapo: Would you say I have a plethora of pinatas?
Jefe: A what?
El Guapo: A *plethora*.
Jefe: Oh yes, you have a plethora.
El Guapo: Jefe, what is a plethora?
Jefe: Why, El Guapo?
El Guapo: Well, you told me I have a plethora. And I just would like to know if you know what a plethora is. I would not like to think that a person would tell someone he has a plethora, and then find out that that person has *no idea* what it means to have a plethora.

Maybe that's what we have to be thankful about on the 5th of May....

....Now if I could only get that damn singing bush out of my head!

Jackie and the Gang

Man, I'm draggin' today. A sure fire sign that you are getting older is when you can't rebound from sleep deprivation like when you were younger. Why am I draggin' today, you might ask?

Last night was spent in the company of some very talented musicians: Jackie Greene and the boys. When I say "boys," I do so with an endearing tone. They are all my "boys." Nate, Jeremy, Uncle Bruce...you know, the boys! I love it when they come to town and I love to hang out and talk and laugh with them. Just good people all around with fantastic senses of humor and big hearts.

They played the Aladdin (again) and sounded good. Not great, but good. This was the second show back from a short hiatus, so the chops were a bit rusty. I even told Nate that. He agreed with me. That's how good of a relationship I have with him...I can be completely honest and it won't hurt his feelings. I'd rather have someone be honest with me than lie to try and make me feel good. That would be doing me a disservice. Anyhow, I digress.

I spent the first couple hours (and the opening act, Truth & Salvage Co.) upstairs, backstage, whatever you want to call it, hanging out with my friends, drinking their beer and laughing at YouTube clips of Scott West's video for Standing on the Moon. We laughed our asses off! These guys know him and some of the musicians that play with him. Just pure folly. Evan, their tour manager dude even got into the act.

Speaking of laughing our asses off, Nate told me the real reason behind our friend Hans canceling his show in Eugene a couple months back. It was a great story but too long to write out, but it is totally Hans. Long story short: he was hungover from drinking himself into a stupor the night before in Chico. If you know Hans, this story won't surprise you. Not that he's a drunk, but just because it reeks of, well, Hans.

Bruce showed me pictures of his boy. The kid's getting bigger every time I see him. He's a proud papa. Jeremy and I discussed the detriment of shirts with sleeves that don't roll up properly. I told him that next time he's in Vegas he needs to stop by that western shirt shop. He knows about it. I told him either do that or have someone custom design them for him...ones that don't have 5 sleeve buttons! You can't roll those up, man!

I questioned Jackie's consumption of a banana, right before going on stage, not to mention the large pizza pie he had sitting on his lap while sitting outside when I first got there. I said, "doesn't that mess with your singing?" He says that he can eat whatever he wants because he "doesn't really sing...he growls." Nate and I discussed the finer sides of Apple vs PC. That discussion continued after the show too. I told him about my trade show display Web site and the pitfalls I was running into working on the GoDaddy platform. He gave me some good advice. He's a total techhead! This time though I could actually talk shop and have an indepth conversation about stuff. We also talked about his girlfriend. They are still together and will eventually get married he says. They just aren't really "ceremonial people" according to him. I'm glad that he's found someone that makes him happy. We all deserve one of those....well some of us don't, but I won't say who! HA HA!

They had to split and head to Eugene, so we didn't get to hang out all night like in the past. It was a night among rockstars that are the complete dichotomy of that stereotype. I guess I should do some sort of work today. I've got to add the prices to those custom modular exhibits on the site before someone stumbles across them and thinks that they are free!

Oh yeah, one more thing...while standing by the side of the stage watching the show, I feel an arm around me and I turn and it's Randy Patten! We chatted a little. I gave him my card to contact me. I forgot he was a Jackie fan. What a treat seeing him there! Hopefully we can touch base and he can give me some design advice for the site.

Speaking of which.....back to work. Can't wait to hit the airport tonight to pick up wifey.

It's late and I'm Tired...and WHAT?

I just spent a bunch of time reading my sister's blog entries after editing the trade show displays on my Web site.

What? Playboy Buddy Rose died? Dude was only 56! Probably all the 'roids he took back in the day. Wait...that guy didn't have the best physique. Maybe he wadn't 'roidin! Check this dude out!

Sad day in the wrestling world folks. I'm tired and I'm going to bed, but just wanted to pay homage to one of the finest athletes our fine city has ever seen. I mean just look at this picture! I hope he didn't go out like Mama Cass...

"Deceased.....Ham...Sand...Wich."

Oh yeah, tomorrow I'll throw an entry in about launching the site. We launched it yesterday and I forgot to post an entry about it. Too busy editing the thing. Gotta get back on it.

Ready to Launch!!

So I've been working in the last month on my new site/business/life, www.americandisplaysco.com I'm going to continue my rise to fame and take full advantage of the American Dream. More to come on that later, but in the meantime, I've teamed up with my high school friend Erik Dietz to create American Displays Co., a reseller of trade show displays, booths and accessories.

We are set to launch this sucker within the next few days. This is the reason I haven't been blogging that much in the past month or so...I've been busy building this site! I have a feeling that is going to change a bit once we launch though. We'll need all the help we can get in the blog department.

What got me into the mood to blog again was my sister calling me and telling me about the recent blog she started (which, coincidentallly, shares the same color scheme as your truly's). I'll have to go in and read hers. www.themindofmargottinaverch.blogspot.com I guess we are both trying to gain success from blogging. It is the new way to advertise cheap, get your word out, hone your cranial chops and diary your daily events. Good stuff.

More to come, especially rants about the last trade show exhibits company I managed and how it led me here.

I Got Sacked on Friday the 13th!

I can't believe it.  You ever have one of those days...you know where you just can't believe whatthe hell just happened?  That was Friday, March 13th.

I got let go.

I'm now going to start my own company and shock the world. 

You'll see!

Trade Show Exhibits and the importance of having a good one

The importance of having good trade show exhibits and trade show displays is paramount to anything else in the trade show industry. You really need something that will show your customers or potential clients that you mean business. Too many people out there try to skimp and end up purchasing a total piece of imported crap. That's just dumb to me because if you want a piece of crap, why import it? At least go American! You can still go smaller, like with banner stands or table top displays and get by just fine.

We only sell American products at my company. Word!

Begging for Backlinks

So my main job now is soliciting sites for back links to ours. What an arduous process. Begging other webmasters for a link to our site. Something that they can place on their site that says trade show displays, or perhaps trade show exhibits with a brief message about what it is that we do. It's all how you play the SEO game.

I'm finding that it's pretty hard to get links from reputable sites. It's kinda like telemarketing or cold-calling eskimos and wanting to sell them ice. Webmasters have enough issues to worry about.

On another note, I wish I could attend the Exhibitor's Show at the end of the month. I could learn so much about the industry, rub elbows with some folks and just absorb more knowledge of products, etc. That's not going to happen. Heck, I don't even think Lowell is going.

Max Rawson's Service and SEO Garbage

So I went to a service last night for Max, an old friend from high school who died in a motorcycle accident a few weeks ago. There were a few of the guys I usually run into when I attend a Jesuit function...Rob, Huston, Aaron, Zach, Hudnut. It was great seeing them all again, but under those circumstances it was awkward. Max was a good guy. He definitely went too soon. We all lifted a few pints for him at the Dublin and reminisced about the past and caught up on the present. It's always good to see those guys and I wish that I would have graduated with them. That always bothers me a bit and makes me feel like they don't see me as an equal. I just need to get over that I guess. Your friends are your friends despite some rash decisions you might make early on in life. Besides, they are all interested in my life and we laugh together. There is a bond.

I stayed at work until a little after 6, to work on the SEO stuff that is, well, kinda terra incognita for me. We got this new software about a month ago that shows us how to optimize our site. I need to get links back to the site by using the right words. Words like trade show booths, banner stands and trade show exhibits need to point to the right pages. That's optimization, baby!

Man, after a few pints last night, I'm draggin' today!

The kid broke his wrist

So my boy Tanner broke his wrist over the weekend while over at his loser dad's place. Broke it on Saturday, comes home on Sunday, goes to the doctor Monday and, yup, it's broken. I guess boys will be boys, but he's such a fragile little guy. In almost two decades of playing sports (including 8 years of football), I never broke a bone in my body. To this day, I've never broken a bone in my body. This kid is 11 and has already broken his wrist and his elbow. Maybe I shouldn't push him to play sports.

Working with computers might be good for him. Learn the internet and how things work. Then maybe one day he can end up selling hybrid displays, outdoor banner stands, and conference displays like me.

Outdoor Exhibits

If you need outdoor banner stands that will blow the socks off your competition, than look no further than my site!

Word!

Travis and Coraline

Seeing friends you haven't seen in a while is a good thing. Seing them two nights in a row is even better. Being part of a historic night for said friends is even better than that.
My friend Travis sacrificed 3 years of his life in making a wonderful bit of film that is Coraline. For once my mind wasn't on hybrid displays, or trade show exhibits, but rather taking my family out for a night they would never forget.
What a movie. Revolutionary. To think, it all started out in 7th grade when Trav built a road from his sand castle to mine on our beach retreat. From there we have built a relationship that will never die. I am proud of my friend. His talent never ceases to amaze me.

More SEO stuff

Well, I'm editing some more stuff for my Web site, this time for [my old web site]. I need some more links back to that site, like stuff pertaining to hybrid displays, or just to the main home page proper.
Hopefully we can get this sucker dialed in and get our rankings up in Google.