Pause the music for this...it's pretty funny...

The trip from...

"he" double hockey sticks.

Wednesday, I was scheduled to board a plane for Dallas at 7:20 pm. Home sweet home. The flight coming in was delayed so we didn't board until about 8:00. We finally pushed out of the gate about 8:25. We would be a little late but they usually make this time up during flight so maybe just a little. The talk in the terminal was of the big storms rolling through Dallas. Hail, lightning, the whole nine yards. Eh, it would roll through and be in Shreveport by the time we got there. No issues.

Luckily the seat next to me was empty which made what happened next bearable. Side note, the guy sitting in the window seat was an American pilot. Referred to from now on as AP. I have come to realize all will be well if AP doesn't lift his head up from his reading material. As we are taxiing down the tarmac, the brakes are applied as if we were landing; very strongly and abruptly. First thing AP does is look up from his magazine and focus out the window.

Crap.

We pull along side another plane and the pilot informs us of the storms in Dallas and we will be waiting 1 hour on the tarmac for them to blow over. So, off the engines go and we wait.

Finally, after shooting a -20 on Tiger Woods golf on the iTouch, we take off.

The flight to Dallas was uneventful until the pilot informed us we would be flying around West Texas for a while until some storms blew over. An hour later, we land at the runway that goes northwest to southeast. You have to fly over Grapevine to reach it. It's on the far west end of the airport. Our terminal is A gate 26. The longest taxi possible at DFW.

After what seemed like an eternity, we got to our gate. Only it was closed and they had to find another one for us. Gate A 28 was open after only a short 25 minute sit on the tarmac.

Off the plane, onto the Skylink. Skylink is the tram that carries you around the airport if you are far away from your car or connecting flight. My flight left from C26 so I qualified. All I had to do was hop on the tram which traveled clockwise around the airport and I would be at my truck in 2 stops. I should have known that tram was closed and I would have to take the tram that only traveled counter-clockwise. 8 stops later I was at my truck. Did I mention the thing was packed like Skoal in my brothers gums? All with sleeping cots for their night at the airport.

Drove home and walked in the door at 1:30. 6 hours after I was supposed to be on the plane.

65 Years ago today...

guys my nephews age were on and preparing to be on a beach swarming with Nazi's and their pillbox's. A pillbox is a concrete bunker, usually the concrete is about 4 feet thick, with a "window" about 1 foot by 3 feet to see and shoot out of. The Nazi's had these pillbox's all along the beach pointing their machine guns at our boys as they hit the beach.

The music you hear was on the hit parade in 1944. If they had had Ipods, many of them would have been listening to this music as they prepared to storm Normandy.

If you find yourself in a patriotic mood this evening and want to watch something WWII D-Day ish, you can't go wrong with any of these choices:

Ike: Countdown to D-Day

Band of Brothers

Saving Private Ryan

Whatever you do today take some time to remember the greatest generation.

I finally did it...

What is it you ask? Well, yesterday I was giving the tee a trim when I raised the clippers and with one small swipe joined the legions of those across this nation to became a member of this not so exclusive club.

I now have to shave my ears. My ears!?!

I joined the back shaving club decades ago. I chalked that up to virile manhood. Ear shaving is just...old. All that's left is to start wearing my pants around my neck, having dinner at 4:00 and begin referring to Kelly as "Mommy".

Ian has invented a few more "Ianisms" as I like to call them. It has been a while since I blogged about his vocabulary prowess. So here goes. At Easter lunch after church and hearing people say "Happy Easter" all morning long, we were all quietly eating our meal when Ian shouted out, "Happy Easter eggs!"

Before getting in the pool it is important for us to protect ourselves from the suns rays by applying "sunscream".

The other day Ian set up a pillow here and a pillow there and began to run around over and under them. He informed us he was running his "Popsicle course." Just like they do on Wipeout. That is correct son. They run through an obstacle course.

A commercial came on for an aquarium. A shark came on the screen and Ian yelled,"Ooh, a shark!". The next image on the screen was a killer whale. Ian said with great exuberance, "A whale!" The last image was a school of Jellyfish complete with gelatinous cores and tentacles. Ian saw this and said, "Look Daddy! Jelly Beans!"

I had a few Barney Fife moments this week with the kiddos. Madison was chosen to be a part of a bilingual program that is an accelerated thing. On top of the ACT or ACE program she was chosen for earlier. Well, the guy who ran the program was a little skeptical before they tested her assuring us that not every child is cut out for these classes. Well Madison scored a 97%! Take that bureaucrat!

At the Stark elementary fair today they had a toilet paper toss. You throw full toilet paper rolls through toilet seats at about 10 feet. The lady handed Ian the roll and we told him to move closer. He said no he wanted to do it from where the big kids were throwing. He hummed the first two rolls right through the toilet seat on the top row. Did I mention he was holding a sucker in his left hand. The next time he was holding the sucker in his right hand when the roll went through the toilet seat.

There was another game there where you throw an egg at circles with point values. The larger the point value the smaller the circle, It went from 1 to 25 by 5. Ian got 3 eggs, again with the sucker in his left hand. He proceeded to hit the 15, 25 and the 1 circle on 3 throws. One of the kids working the booth was quite impressed.

Reagan is so darn cute I just Barney Fife around her all the time.

You gotta read this...

Opiate of the masses type moment

Obama's true colors shining through...

What a maroon. Don't have all the facts but fun reading.

What a marauder. National Sales Tax? Good grief.

What a nincom-poop. Surprise surprise. Tax revenues are falling.

Musings

Have you seen this commercial?

If I had a Mastercard, I’d print this ad out frame by frame and sent it along with my shredded card.

Can we learn from our children? Or course! They are honest, brave, unsullied souls who can see so much keener than us because their hearts are not clouded by the false wisdom of experience. Right?

Right: boooshwa. Listening to the wisdom of the wee isn’t an entirely new idea, but I suspect you’d find scant evidence before the sixties. In old TV shows and movies the kids might have an idea, or a theory, and the grown-ups would be too busy pursuing a red herring to pay attention. At the end the cop would push his hat back and scratch his forehead, the universal gesture among old cops when confronted with a youngster who figured things out. But usually kids were seen, heard, loved - and instructed.

If they’d intimated that Mastercard can be used to placate your humorless little eco-scold, no one would have minded much. But no: the child is making his father a better man. It’s nice to see that Dad exists in a state of such unearthly perfection that the only means of betterment consist of abjuring incandescent lighting for pig-tailed CFLs, right? Alas: dad is a scoff-law who lets the tap run, uses doubleplus ungood bulbs, and doesn’t correct the clerk when the food is put in a cornstarch bag, perhaps because he’s thinking about his job, the cutbacks and layoffs, the tiresome daily scrum of adult life. He works hard, but of course he could work harder - he has a part-time job so he can stay at home with his son. Mom’s full-time. He downshifted so someone would always be there when Ethan came home from school. This makes him an okay man, I guess.

Isn’t it interesting how Dad looks like the sort of delayed-adolescent types most likely to be already concerned about these things, and spending his day working on developing websites for sustainability, hosted on servers powered by methane captured from pig excreta? For that matter, who would like this ad? Wives who regard their husbands as overgrown boys in need of the Moral Guidance of those who will inherit the earth, perhaps.

One more thing: if the kid didn’t learn these steps to righteousness at home, where did he get them?

What is it with potato chip bags? When you buy them they seem all robust and plentiful. Then you pop open the bag and all the air used to make the illusion of fullness rushes out as fast as your enthusiasm. It's not everyday you spend $4 on a bag of air with a few chips in it. Almost, though. Oh, they say it is for packaging and the chips don't get broken that way. Uh huh.

I was on the plane the other day and the flight attendant came over the speaker 3 times to tell everyone to turn off their cell phones. All because the person sitting caddy-corner to me was furiously texting to make sure all the critical correspondence was completed before the two hour flight. She finally came over and made the guy stop. He begrudgingly turned off the phone. Not much of a story really except for the fact the guy was 85 years old if he was a day. Do you think he thought of this scenario sitting around the radio listening to Amos and Andy?

This is sickening, maddening, frustrating...

The credit card part not the gun part.

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Obama signs law curbing surprise credit card fees

Time to do some early Christmas shopping...

Or should I say early Obamamas shopping

You did notice who sponsored that site, right?

The New York freakin Times. The main stream media (MSM) is not even trying anymore. They have dropped all semblance of objectivity.

And there is no going back. But at least they are all losing money hand over fist; so, we got that going for us.

It's been a while...

since I've had the time to post. I have been extremely busy. As has Kelly, keeping the home fires burning.

Big goings on here. For those of you who don't know, I have been doing a lot of work in Chicago. It has been going very well. The CIO and I have similar business philosophies, political leanings and scariest of all senses of humor. He wants to talk about making it permanent. And yes that would involve moving.

This is an opportunity the likes of which I have never seen and may not see again. I could theoretically be the CIO of this company in 2 to 3 years.

It would mean a better life for us. Not that our life isn't good now. As a matter of fact, I am constantly doing the Mutley dive and the Barney Fife. We are truly blessed.

Is it possible to be more blessed?

Which cliche do we follow? "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth" or "Once in a lifetime"?

As we speak, I am accruing more clients here in DFW. The only problem, it is not permanent. If they decide 6 months from now to go another way or just stop developing in my software, I am SOL. Chicago is full-time. Insurance. Steady pay-checks. Room for advancement.

White Christmasses.

We have some decisions to make. I just hope they are the right ones.

But the way I figure it; if Kelly, Madison, Ian and Reagan are with me, it will be the right decision.

I'll keep you posted.