…sop'n up life with a biscuit.
Wow. It’s been a long time since the last post. It looks like a little over a year. Since that time we’ve moved to Tampa, FL and have really enjoyed the change of pace. To give you an idea of how things have been going, here are a couple of video from the past couple of weeks.
I don’t know how long I can keep it up, but I intend to post a new one each week.
Dear NASCAR,
First I would like to thank you for hosting such a splendid event. Whoever originally decided to take an enormous engine, strap it to a frame, and then race it with an over-sized chassis at 200 mph was a genius of the highest caliber. The intellect of this person is only matched by the sadistic nature of the individual who decided to pass rules to restrict the racing speeds to just below warp drive but just above imminent fiery death. These standards result in exciting races where no one walks away with a lead, anyone in a pack of 40 cars could win, and there will most definitely be a hair raising crash every single weekend.
I cannot begin to tell you how my redneck heart quivers with delight to see this display of excess and ingenuity. Not too mention, like baseball, with a four hour event there is ample time to get excited, grab a snack, take a nap, take a leak, and then get excited all over again. So, once again, I commend you.
However, recently my viewership has ceased, unexpectedly, through no fault of my own. Imagine my surprise on a recent Sunday when flipping through my local network television channels, I find no NASCAR event. Immediately my mind tells me, “Must be a night race.” So, I check the schedule only to find out, there is, in fact, a race this afternoon on TNT. TNT. Not again!
Yep, it’s that point in of year where poor folks and tight wads such as myself can no longer watch the season. How much are TNT and ESPN paying you? I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same, but you’ve sold off my Sunday afternoon! Things just aren’t the same around the house.
My wife would usually make snacks for the race, but now she has no reason to be in the kitchen. You’ve taken away her livelihood. Now she just sits around reading. I can’t have that. She’s liable to get ideas in that little head of hers.
And what am I supposed to do with myself? Go outside?!? There’s a cancer causing sun out there. Should I exercise? And lose this manly physique? I think not. I can’t play video games. I need a break. I’ve put 26 hours into Civilization 5 already this week. Also, I live in Washington, DC. Do you know how often I get to hear a true redneck voice to remind me of home. It WAS every Sunday.
Listen, NASCAR is a human right like Jeopardy or Sesame Street. It should be available to all. People depend on you to get them through the tough Spring and Summer weekends. You bring fellowship to friends and family, rest to the weary, and excitement to the working man.
For now I am stuck with NBC providing me with Indycar and F1. That’s right F1. I might as well be watching a marathon. There’s always a some guy with a name I can’t pronounce out front, everyone is in a long, boring line, people crash out on their own, and 3 lead changes is considered an exciting race. Please rescue me.
Your Desperate and Fading Fan,
Jason
Today marked the beginning of a wonderful season of the year. It’s the time of year when nature beckons, the indoors are odious to the senses, and competitive juices begin to flow. It was the first day of lunch-time frisbee golf at work.
When I first arrived at my office seven years ago, I noticed an amazing amount of green space that surrounded the building and a park across the street. So one day Roger, a colleague, and I decided to map out a frisbee golf course using roots, parking spaces, and tree shadows as tee boxes and picked railings, stumps, and trash cans for targets. Through the years the course, discs, people, injuries, and amount paid for damages has varied, but the tradition continues.
It’s great for morale. Work frustrations fade when you get outside on a warm day with your friends and channel all your energies into throwing a small disc as hard as you can at an impossible to hit target.
This round was to be the first of the year, and I started off the season with a drive that miraculously zipped through the Y-shaped branch of an oak. I followed up with a cautious second shot and was about to finish up my par.
“Ouch,” I exclaimed.
Quite unexpectedly I felt my leg hit a thorn, but strangely, there was not an offender in sight. As the pain lingered, it happened again.
“What’s going on?”
As I pulled up my pants leg, something had bitten or stung me. I looked all around my leg several times, rolled up my pants further, and finally concluded that the whatever had attacked me had flown or crawled away.
Finishing up my par shot, I gingerly walked to the next tee box, whined about being stung by something, and with one pant leg up and one down, thug style, sent I beautiful tee shot below a low hanging branch, up the hill, and onto the sports field beyond. It was the perfect shot. I confidently strode forward and although happy my mind wandered back to the throb in my leg. The following conversation began to play out.
Self 1: What could have stung me? I didn’t see anything.
Self 2: It could have flown away.
Self 1: No, I lifted my pants leg really quick.
Self 2: Well, that only leaves 2 options. Either you didn’t see it fly away or it’s still…
Self 1: What’s that buzzing soun…
“AAAAAAHHHHHHHAHAHHHAAHHH!!!!!!”
“Holy, merciful, sweet-lovin caretaker of Martha Stewart!” I’m pretty sure I expounded.
Somewhere on the first hole I had picked up a passenger. He was happy enough to ride around the flower-filled field for about fifty yards, but then grew tired and wanted to get off the train. I must admit he did give me ample warning. Politely tapping on my leg twice should have won him his freedom, however he only sealed his prison when I tight-rolled my pants leg.
What’s a yellow jacket to do. One can’t fly down. One can only go up and upon arriving at the top floor he finds his alternate exit sealed. The only option left in this predicament is to ring the exit bell.
***Ding Dong***
Until this day I had never known the true meaning of “dancing like your pants are on fire.” With my friends looking in wonder and with my last shred a modesty disappearing, I turned to the woods and freed the angry prisoner in my pants. Oddly enough the pain in my leg was no longer even remotely an issue.
After buckling my pants and with my friends laughing hysterically, I hobbled to my disc and took the most painful frisbee golf shot I am likely ever to have in my entire life. Par.
I was stung 3 times. I’ve never been allergic to stings and today I was holding on to that blessing. I birdied 2 holes after that then flubbed the last hole and forced a play off. I lost the game in the end, however I gained one of the most memorable rounds in office frisbee golf history.
Welcome back frisbee golf!
We closed on our condo and walked away with a pen, some paperwork, and a box of girl scout cookies. Yeah! Cookies!
Thanks to everyone for all the prayers and encouragement every time we hit a road block the last six months and thanks to all those who helped us move for the past few weeks. We are now started to get nestled into our new apartment above a great restaurant. The smells of the restaurant plus the smells of Brandy cooking equals a big win for me and the combination tends to squelch any lingering odors that might or might not be my responsibility.
In other news, we are selling lots of crap highly useful merchandise. If anyone is interested just let me know. If you are not interested, you might still have a good time reading the descriptions.
Random Stuff:
Furniture (not as entertaining but we’re getting rid of it also)
[Funny Moment] Brandy just pointed out that the title of the article might lead to some raised eyebrows as I had neglected to put “ly” on the end of the word “Lovely” above.[/Funny Moment]
Complications. Today we received a call from our buyer’s realtor. It seems that we have an issue involving our condo building, the management company, and our buyer’s lending institutions. The short of it is that we might lose the buyer and might not get a new buyer until all this mess is resolved.
We received this information after going to visit our new two bedroom apartment we began leasing as of today! The past few hours has been a mixture of prayers, phone calls, and emails to try and get everything back on track. We’re working it and would appreciate your prayers.
On the flip side we are very fond of our new apartment. It’s a two bedroom unit above a restaurant in a quaint little corner of Northern Virginia. It’s fantastic. We are the only residential unit in the building, it’s the largest amount of space we’ve ever inhabited since we’ve been married, and we have room for guests.
Of course it’s going to be quite a task to hold on to this place if we are still stuck with our condo.
Before we came back home to our news, we took the opportunity to enjoy the new spring sunshine by taking a walk through our new neighborhood. Recently opened is the Del Ray Variety Store. They lure you in with candy in the window and then keep you hanging around with toys, balloons, art supplies, household supplies, and more candy. We’re sure to be visiting more often, provided the area actually becomes our new neighborhood.
We sold the condo! After several months of dealing with doors that leak and moldy floors, we have finally listed and sold our condo. Goal #1 is now 90% complete. Closing is April 12th.
Thanks again to Ralph for the great real estate photos. Here’s a sample of his work.
If you are in the DC area, have an interesting shoot, and want someone to do it for free, you can contact Ralph through his website at Generations Family Photo.
Oh yeah, Craig and Gretchen are pretty cool too 🙂 Thanks for the advice guys. (Got Fresh Breath?)
If you’ve got any idea about what our next step should be (because we don’t have a clue), let us know!
Misery. Pure misery is the only way to describe our Christmas vacation. The company was fine, the food was excellent, but the bronchitis kicked me into the ground and is only now beginning to slightly relent. We had to cut our Christmas vacation a day short but it was all worth it to see my nephew enjoy his second Christmas ever.
Santa Claus was more than generous and you could tell it was hard for the light guy to pick which toy to go to next. Of particular interest was a rideable tractor and a front-end loader that played rock’n roll to which Braeden danced by rocking his shoulders and bouncing up and down.
At the in-laws house we enjoyed Christmas day with more family however most of the day was dedicated to me sleeping in the guest bedroom. We did happen to take a few pictures though. Click below to see the larger photos.
