Tuesday, June 22, 2010

What Do You Mean I Have A Blog?

I've kind of forgotten that I have a blog. The move to the Twin Cities has ripped me out of my comfortable routine of nothingness and has left me with very little free time. Happily, for my three or so regular readers, I think things are settling down, so hopefully I can keep posting.

So, in the meanwhile, here is what I've learned in the last few weeks:

1) I've scratched Truck Driver off of my list of fallback careers. Driving a 10 foot U-Haul was enough. (That leaves rodeo clown, professional baseball announcer, and skydiving instructor, for those of you keeping track.)

2) The drive from MI to MN has definitely gotten longer than it was 8 years ago, when I last did it. I think WI has gone on an eating binge since then and has grown much fatter. (Too many cheese curds, would be my guess.)

3) The first day of work is always the same. People are all very nice to you, but you know that deep down they are scheming on how to dump their work off on you. Also, you wander around in a daze, not knowing anybody or anything, just hoping to make it through the day without making too much of a fool of yourself. ("That's not the lunchroom! That's the CEO's private store!")

4) My badge picture came out better that I had thought. Still, one eye is wide open, and the other is locked down in a fairly good squint. It makes for good contrast. (I think I was halfway through getting into my Clint Eastwood squint when the picture was taken.)

Sunday, June 13, 2010

A Moment To Remember (But Not To Be Proud Of)

Now that my time in Wisconsin is drawing to a close, I find myself looking back at some of the things that have occured during my stay here. One in particular was the dumbest thing I ever did while living in my apartment.

At the time I had a roommate, and one day he told me that the dryer in the basement jammed while he was putting in the quarters needed to operate it. I called the landlord and he later determined that a bent quarter was used, which jammed the mechanism, and he returned said offending quarter.

Life went on. However, somewhere down the line the same thing happened to me. This annoyed me, as I figured the dryer was getting old. I called the landlord and reported the problem. When I got home from work the next day there was a note under my door, and included was a bent quarter. The note included the following line: "This is the same quarter I took out the last time." (I'm surprised he didn't attach a "moron" at the end.)

That was when I realized that when he had returned the bent quarter the last time, I had, showing an incredible lack of foresight, put it back into my stash of laundry money. From there on I had been playing Laundry Roulette, and it had finally caught up with me.

If I had been my landlord, I would have kicked me out right then and there out of sheer principle. However, he was nice enough not to.

I truly believe that during his regular Landlord Meetings, he now brings this tale up to try and one-up other landlords when they are discussing who has the worst tenants.

Needless to say, in some landfill in Wisconsin there is a bent quarter buried somewhere within. I actually wish I had it back. I would probably frame it, since I am kind of proud of the whole thing.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Living In The Backwoods Of Small Town U.S.A. Made Me Who I Am

Any casual fan of country music will have noticed the abundance of “I’m country so I’m better than everybody else” songs out there. Basically, these are songs which celebrate the hillbilly/backroads/backwoods/country/small town/rural lifestyle by repeating the same clichés we’ve all heard over and over and over and over and over and over again.

To prove how mindless this is, I will now write a few lines off of the top of my head which could be the basis for one of these songs:

You may think we’re a bunch of hicks
But we still love livin’ out in the sticks

Throw a banjo in there, a few lines about trucks, working hard, and having fun on Saturday, along with an annoying-yet-oh-so-loud electric guitar solo, and it’s a hit. (I’m shuddering here when I think of this.)

This is what Gretchen Wilson redneck mania seems to have morphed into lately, and it’s really starting to get annoying.

However, there is still music being made which doesn’t conform to the latest trend, and that is what gives me hope:

Zac Brown Band: Free – They released “Highway 20 Ride”, which was a sparse, thoughtful ballad, and it was a big hit. Still ballads aren’t generally radio friendly, and conventional wisdom suggests they needed to next release an up-tempo, mindless-celebration-of-the-country-life type of song, especially for the current summer months. However, they instead released, “Free”, which is another sparse ballad. Seriously, nobody releases two ballads in a row. It’s career suicide! Yet, they did, it’s doing well, and for that I’m happy.

Dierks Bentley: Up On The Ridge – He just released an entire album of acoustic/bluegrass songs. No electric guitar solos to be heard. Sure, the song "Up On The Ridge" is an “I’m Country” kind of song in its own right, but it’s still does it in an original sort of way.

My favorite song on there so far is "Fiddlin’ Around", because it has about eighty-seven fiddle solos in it:

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Growing Pains

Sometimes, getting mature can really be annoying.

Take, for example, a four-hour road trip. In the past I would spend the entire time listening to music and generally enjoying myself. It was a good system, I rather enjoyed it, and I saw no reason for it to change.

Except it did change, and for that I blame maturity.

Now, when I am in this exact same situation, I spend most of my time listening to talk radio, and I’ve come to realize that not only is politics incredibly boring, it is also incredibly frustrating and depressing. Still, I can’t help but pay attention to it. It’s a maturity thing, and it's starting to annoy me. For example, when the road trip is finished, I am no longer upbeat and happy from listening to various singers who wear cowboy hats tell about how their world is ending because they treated their woman wrong and so she left them, and how the only way they can deal with it is by consuming large amounts of alcohol. Instead, I am angry and frustrated because I’ve just heard various stories about how people I wouldn’t trust to handle running a rummage sale are currently running our government. Aaargh!

This leads me to my next point: John Wayne.

You see, I own a life-sized John Wayne cut-out. I received it as a gift from my friend Tom quite a few years back. At that time, I thought it was hilarious, and I amused myself by setting it up randomly in my apartment. It scared any visitors I had, and it also scared myself, on occasion. Once again, it was a good system, I rather enjoyed it, and I saw no reason for it to change.

Except now it just isn’t funny anymore. John himself hasn’t changed. He still stands there stoically, holding his rifle and looking grim, just like he’s either about to face down a dozen bandits or has severe constipation. Unfortunately, it’s me that’s changed. For some reason, what used to make me happy now seems somehow beneath me. Stupid maturity.

I guess this is just something I’ll have to learn to live with. I understand that maturing is good. I mean, if you don’t mature, then you end up as the weird 40 year old guy who still tries to act 20 by keeping up with and using the current slang, which results in them being known as the creepy 40 year old guy who sounds completely out of place by using the current slang.

I guess what I’m saying is that I’m not against maturing, and I’ll go along with it, but it doesn’t mean I always have to like it.

Also, does anybody want a life-sized cut-out of John Wayne?

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Go West Young Man (To The Land Of Pawlenty)

I actually don’t have much to say about my coming relocation to Minnesota. To be honest, I just really wanted to use the phrase “Land of Pawlenty”, mainly because I’m proud I came up with it, and also because it is a quite cheesy/horrible phrase.

To set the record straight, I did google this, and I found that it has been used in the past, so I fully admit that I did not originate it. However, I'd never heard it until it popped into my mind, which means that even though I'm not the true originator, I was still able to independently arrive at it.

So, you may ask, what does this all mean, and why are you babbling about it when there has to be something more worthwhile you could be focusing your time and energy on? Heck, I don’t know. Like I said, I just really wanted to use the play on words. It's not like all of my posts have to be thought-provoking or incredibly deep, you know. I'm allowed to have a few fluff pieces now and again. I mean, George Strait recorded 'Don't Make Me Come Over There And Love You' and it didn't ruin him. So give me a break!

I believe that somewhere along the way I have lost my original point. Unless, of course, I never had one to begin with, and I'll fully admit that I'm still a bit fuzzy as to if I did. Still, I used up a lot of space, and that makes me happy.