....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!!