AM/FM F-U

As a former Eau Clairian and a purveyor of salty language, I chuckled after reading this letter on a friend's FB page.  ~L

(thanks for the link Stacy)
(thanks to "annonymous" for pointing out this letter was debunked by snopes.com)

Salvage Company

Spent an hour visiting with the neighbor.  He pulled up on an ATV dragging a toboggan with a deer on it.  One of his friends hit it with a car just after leaving his house.  Two beers later a Hefty bag filled with future hot dogs was headed home.  ~L

Mass Math Meth Mess

Gives new meaning to "higher education."
http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-504083_162-57336875-504083/boston-professor-charged-with-running-meth-lab-police-say/  ~L

Semi-Educated

Enrolled in college this week.  A 45 year-old, beer-gutted freshman wandering the halls of academia looking for the bookstore, the student union, and a restroom close to the lecture hall. 

For 30 years I've had an affinity for reading and writing.  Did a six year tour of the UW system to earn a four-year journalism degree.  Spent nearly 15 years in the newspaper field - much of that time sensing I'd missed my foreordination in life. It wasn't until I stood at the head of a high school classroom as a long-term, substitiute English teacher that I finally realized my calling.  (It's not as cool as singing Jerry Reed songs - but almost.)  ~L

High-Tech Rednecks

Many of our home computer and electronic accessories are now wireless.  Not because we're rich or tech savvy - but, because this happened again. 

Seems the new puppy mistook our USB cables, ear buds, mouse, battery chargers, and laptop power cords for black licorice whips.  A couple were fully 110V when she worked them over. 

If she sneaks into the house during Christmas, this will bring me joy.  ~L

Deer Stand...or Sit

Spent several hours deer hunting the remote ruggedness of the Blue Hills yesterday.  After miles of traversing some of the most unforgiving terrain hunters can endure, my boy and I rested on the only chunk of solid ground surrounding a secluded lake. 

Reclining among the roots and needles of towering white pines, we contemplated the possibility of our little peninsula having never felt the weight of a human footstep.  Or if the trees overhead ever held a human gaze.  Perhaps ancient natives used the area as a fishery, or trapping grounds for fur-bearing animals, or possibly for harvesting wild rice? The archaeological possibilities surrounding our 'discovery' made us feel like early-American explorers.

Our Lewis and Clark-like experience ended a hundred yard later when we stepped onto a tote road that lead us past a recently used campsite, strewn with beer cans and this:



Plywood privy complete with seat,  paper holder, and mosquito spray.

 (Credit my son, Henry, for suggesting a photograph of the backwoods bathroom for my blog.)

Finish Line

Earlier this week I read an obituary that reminded me of this old photo.

Gary King Construction was the original sponsor of my race car at the Rice Lake Speedway in 1985.  ~L

(The funeral home's website that hosts the obituary [linked above] for Gary King is occasionally down.  This link works, but is not as detailed.)

Yellow Snow Angels

They've got 40 acres of unblemished snow in which to make their winter lawn decorations - yet, my boys opt to plop and roll where the dogs do their 'business'.  ~L

Whitetail Wipeout

Years ago, an old deer hunter warned me that if I found a bandana on the ground in the woods - it's there for a reason.  ~L

Yard Waist

Had to buy a bundle of new clothes last week.  My midriff measurement has remained stable since the Reagan administration, but recent dietary neglect grew it into a 36-inch gut.

Anyone need a pile of parachute pants and stone-washed denim?  ~L

Every Dog Has Its Day

Webster's dictionary has yet to create a word to define the feeling running through me when I returned home from work to find my house door wide open.

The fear of having my secluded home burglarized scares me much less than the fear of allowing a couple of free-range, un-potty trained farm dogs to have unfettered access to white carpet.

A thorough visual and nasal inspection yielded only a tipped over wastebasket.  ~L

Proudly American

Eleven years ago I had the opportunity to visit the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C.  I was one of thousands who silently shuffled along the imposing monument - mesmerized by the endless columns of former lives etched upon it.  Some visitors pencil-rubbed onto paper the names of loved ones inscribed into the stone. Others sat on benches, stoically reflecting on what stood before them.  Many came bearing small mementos to leave on the walkway.

Nestled among the flowers and the stuffed animals and the candles was a small, wood-framed photograph of a young serviceman in his dress uniform.  Attached to the frame was this simple, hand-written poem:

I never knew you.
You died before I was born.
I will never forget you.
I was given your name.

Class Dismissed (revised)

(Note: the original version of this post was erroneously deleted. I posted again - with revisions.)

Bamboozled my way into a teaching gig at our local high school last week.  For the next three months, 85 freshmen and sophomores look to me for guidance through creative writing and literature.  If they only knew it's taken me ten minutes of re-writes to avoid using commas and semicolons.  (Thanks to former colleagues, and professional editors, Megan E., Monica H., and Kevin Q., my portfolio of published works is a sham.)

Only in America (or maybe only northern Wisconsin) can a man rise from the ranks as a schlepper of advertising copywriting, to hack blogging about dick jokes and beer, to become a shaper of young minds.

Because I'm no longer satisfied with earning two-figure paychecks, I decided I'd avoid using phrases like "dangling participles" and "straightening out Longfellow" in my classroom.  ~L

Gifts That Keep On Giving

A big thank you goes out to my redneck brother-in-law for his part in tonight's supper.

Last Christmas, when all the other relation were bringing salads and pies and Jello molds and cheese trays to our annual family dinner, Uncle Pat showed up with 50 rolls of jumbo Sweet Tarts, a gallon of Famous Dave's barbecue sauce, a paper grocery sack filled with miscellaneous sand papers, a bottle of Southern Comfort, a set of metric wrenches and a frozen pizza.

Finally, after sampling each item from his holiday hodgepodge, I'm graciously reminded of this scene from National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation (skip forward to 2:46 if you can).  ~L

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1K8-kNuDgoA&feature=results_main&playnext=1&list=PL7F015C44EF565D44

Can Eat Off 'Em Now

Floors got mopped on consecutive days.  Yesterday - because they needed it.  Today - because I got dog poop on my slippers and tracked it all over the house.  ~L

Young Tongue

For this post, my 100th TWW entry, I intended to share a reflective essay on why I enjoy keeping a journal.

Tonight, that subject was trumped at the supper table as I watched the oldest boy spend nearly a minute licking out a spaghetti stain from his t-shirt.  ~L

Growing Our Own Groceries

Eating locally produced food is popular these days. Tonight's entire menu originated only a couple of dozen feet from our dinner table - including the hand cut apple wood used in the grill. ~L

* pork chops
* green beans
* applesauce
* home brew beer

Bladder Matter

At the doctor today for a urinalysis.  The last time I peed in a cup the transaction involved alot of beer and a moving vehicle.

Thought of this scene while in the act.  ~L
(ignore the subtitles)

Rusk County Rainbows

An unexpected October squall delivers a brief double rainbow (sometimes triple) to the Blue Hills region near the village of Bruce in Rusk County, WI.  ~L

Sick Humor

When asked for my preferred method of receiving an annual flu shot (nasal or needle), I replied, "Smokable, if ya got it?" - much to the dismay of the teachers and students waiting outside the school nurse's office.

With no privacy curtains available I decided against requesting a suppository.  ~L

3,000 Hits

It's taken 91 entries for The Writing Wredneck reach 3,000 hits. If it was part of Major League Baseball it'd be eligible for the Hall of Fame.

Thanks to all who follow TWW - especially those who've told me they do (mom, wife, son, Tony, Lee, Jan, Ty V, Erin, Jason, Megan).

According to my blog stats rednecks have no international boundaries.

United States 2,684
Netherlands 63
Russia 34
Canada 32
United Kingdom 31
Germany 27
Romania 17
India 12
Iran 9
Mexico 9

A surprising surge from India this week bumped this entry into the top spot for most viewed (75). Second most viewed is this short video (68).

Thanks again everyone.  ~L

Boy Meats Girl

In passing, I overheard this snippet of an actual plea from a middle school boy to a girl in the hall at school: "C'mon, I'll give you a steak when I shoot my deer..."

Not sure what he was looking for - maybe her tutelage with algebra, a date to the homecoming dance, or possibly buying her silence for witnessing a classroom misdeed.

Behold the power of venison.  ~L

Hot Wheels

Living in a redneck zip code I'm accustomed to seeing unique modes of transportation parked around town.  An area carpenter uses a rusty 70s vintage hearse to carry his tools to the job site.  Another guy spends his summers living in a converted bread delivery truck- complete with 10-foot chimney. One local family even drops the kids off at school in a former ambulance. (Not the stylish passenger van type - but the giant, square box kind.)

Today was a first when I saw this parked next to the town tavern.  Bet he can outrun the law when he's pulled over for a DWI (at least for a quarter-mile).  ~L

Just Say No to Weed

Journalism school taught me the Latin phrase caveat emptor - which means "let the buyer beware."  As a former newspaper guy I understand the power of advertising and how it can persuade reasonable consumers into purchasing overhyped and mostly useless products - like magnetic bracelets, name brand bottled water and Rascal Flatts CDs.  Until now, I've always had the ability to resist the temptation to try something new only because I've seen a cool advertisement.  Unfortunately, this commercial got me. (Because the commercial is for an alcoholic beverage, YouTube requires age verification before viewing)

My 20-year hungover past has seen me consume numerous nasty beverages - boiled Leinenkugels with melted butter, Hershey syrup with vodka, and Miller Genuine Draft light.  But just one can of Jeremiah Weed Lightning Lemonade has made me consider pledging my support for the revival of prohibition.

I hope Dos Equis is better.  Stay thirsty my friends.  ~L

Rec Room Reptile

Shortly after the oldest boy picked up the "toy" snake he believed his younger brother set out to scare him with (in retaliation for not sharing the video game machine in a timely manner) dad was in the backyard releasing the very "real" snake.  ~L

Wart's the Answer?

I recently met with the subject of this blog post from last school year - and I had to ask him.

I shared his decision at the end of the post.  ~L

Glass Hopper

This bugger jumped onto the truck windshield when I stopped at a rural intersection on my way to town. He accompanied me on errands to the feed mill, Walmart and the gas station. For 20 miles, at 60 mph, his grip never wavered.

On the return trip, I pulled over to drop him off at his home. Before I could roll down the window and flick him off - he jumped into the same ditch from where he originated.

The stories he's probably telling now. ~L

Oh Buoy!

Understanding navigational markers on a lake while operating a speed boat is just as important as having a good radio and a cooler full of beer.

Yesterday when I bought this vintage craft - the propeller did not look like this.  ~L

Playing With My Dinghy



1977 Glastron Sportster with 85 hp Evinrude

It's been said that the best days of boat ownership are the day you buy it and the day you sell it.

Today we're half way there.  ~L


Man Oh Man

When it comes to my physical appearance I do the best I can with what I've got.  And what I've got is a body that closely resembles Abraham Lincoln smuggling a basketball under a sleeveless t-shirt while riding an ostrich.  But I'm comfortable with it.  But according to several recent news articles I've read concerning men's appearance and grooming, many men are not comfortable with what they've got.  The articles expound on delicate subjects we men are shy to discuss down at Killer's tavern. Subjects such as 'manboobs', 'manscaping', and 'manorexia'.

At first, I thought having manboobs would be cool.  After a lifetime of being self-conscious about having a set of pecs smaller than a 11-year-old Chinese gymnast, manboobs might give me the confidence I need to wear my western shirts unsnapped down to the waist like Kenny Chesney does.  But, I realized I'd probably get a set of 38Ds and enjoy them so much I'd never leave the house.

Manscaping is something I swore I'd never try - until the wife and kids forced me to do it  after I embarrassed them at the public pool.  I admit my swimsuit is slightly outdated and a tad too small, but I had no idea I looked as if ZZ Top was attempting to escape from my trunks.

'Manorexia', a newly-coined twist on the mostly female eating disorder anorexia,  is used to describe men who diet and exercise relentlessly to look like popular male magazine models.  Anorexia is a dangerous, and often deadly mental and physical disorder for millions of women around the world and it shouldn't be taken lightly. 

As a man, I'm guessing manorexia is more of a vanity-based disorder among a particular segment of urban males.  Here in northern Wisconsin I'm hard-pressed to find a 'manorexic' man anywhere.  I searched all the popular places around town; Buford's BBQ Barn,  The NASCAR Emporium and Deli, and Earl's Discount Tire and Cheese - and I couldn't find one manorexic man.  Heck, our local Wal-Mart doesn't even stock pants with waistbands smaller than a size 48 (for men or women).

The article stated manorexic men feel pressure look like male magazine models.  After polishing off a twelver of Pabst while trying to find a skinny male model in all my back issues of Guns & Ammo, the Farm and Fleet 2009-2010 Christmas catalog, and Outlaw Biker magazine the only pressure I feel is pushing against the back of my belt buckle.  ~L

When the Cat's Away

'The Boss' is gone to an out-of-town conference.  For three days the kids and I will enjoy a lack of supervision.

On the menu last night: Wal-mart beef jerky, pepper-jack Tostitos and a generous helping of Southern Comfort for me.  Hot Pockets, graham crackers with chocolate frosting and Mt. Dew for the children.  ~L

Wild Audience

Last night a nice eight-pointer browsed his way across the hayfield toward me as I sat on the front porch noodling on my acoustic guitar.  Travis Tritt's Here's a Quarter and The Clash's Should I Stay or Should I Go work just as effectively as any Doe-In-Heat lure.

As I tore into Hank Williams Jr's A Country Boy Can Survive and hit the verse "We can skin a buck..." he decided not to wait for the encore.  ~L

Read Between the (Fishing) Lines

Recently, I had the misfortune opportunity to take a group of ungrateful brats kids fishing - something I've dreaded looked forward to for a long time. Nothing gets the lazy youngsters more disinterested excited than an outdoor punishment adventure!


I haphazardly threw an armful of crappy poles carefully stowed our gear minutes before we took off the prior evening so we got going several hours later than planned an early start on the day. The little bastards darlings could barely contain their yawns smiles. The car was filled with non-stop whining joyful anticipation.  Even I was beginning to curse under my breath get excited!


When we arrived at the putrid cesspool the old fishing hole we were greeted by the smell of rotting fish fresh air and the sound of nearby road construction waves lapping at the shore.  Before we got out of the car the greedy pigs little rascals were already fighting over who got the last root beer making plans for all the fish they'd catch.

Before long, the future delinquents tots were lobbing their hooks and bobbers into the trees best honey holes. Only minutes after the first cast they asked when we were leaving began catching fish  - and I began chugging beer relaxing.  After a lifetime an hour passed we had a total of five bucket full of puny beautiful fish!

When the snot-nosed urchins angelic little cherubs caught me trying to dump the fish back into the lake admiring their catch they repeatedly nagged sweet talked me into doing the cleaning and cooking for them.  Their relentless begging persuasive plea was so annoying sweet it nearly brought a gun to my head tear to my eye.

 Damn it! Golly! I can't wait until they can go fishing by themselves ask me to go again!  ~L

Fancy Farming

Transferred our poultry operation from the climate-controlled rookery to the multi-level housing facility via the tandem axle livestock trailer.  ~L

Silly Walk

Annoyed by the constant scuffing my broken-soled slippers made on our wood floors one morning - I briefly resorted to walking like this.  ~L

Wagonload of Woo Hoo!

My boys, and their cousin, escape the oppressive heat (and oppressive flies) by taking the four-wheeler for some laps around the hay field.  At the 0:41 second mark is where the title originated.  ~L

Farm Fresh

Had a Tom Sawyer-like afternoon yesterday.  Convinced by mom that painting is really fun, my kids helped their Uncle Mark whitewash his barn walls. 

No surprise when all four agreed (while eating Dairy Queen during the ride home) that working a paint brush wasn't so bad.  ~L

Itchy Britches

Symptoms indicate I must've taken a leak while clearing a patch of poison Sumac (without gloves) from around the swingset last week.  ~L

While the Sun Shines

The neighbor made 160 bales from our five acre field today.  Mostly clover and grass and daisies.  I bartered the hay for an on-going supply of manure from his milking sheep farm.

Henry, and his friend Brandon, bucked all the bales onto our '52 Chevy farm truck for the six mile trip to the hay mow.  We returned home with two tons of composted pen-pack bedding ready for top-dressing the garden and raspberry patch.  ~L



Brandon and Henry ready to unload at the elevator.



Bruised Ribs and Ego

Went to the doctor today to x-ray my ribs.  Hurt them last week in a collision while playing first base in a city league baseball game.  Haven't been able to sleep, cough, sneeze or hiccup without agony.  Tests were negative for fractures.  Diagnosis - a form of Costochondritis - an injury to the cartilage connecting rib bones to the sternum.

It's the fourth time in ten years (not counting my broken foot) I found myself staring at the ceiling in the x-ray lab waiting for pictures of my ribs.  In all, I've been told they've been broken, cracked, bruised, separated, and strained.

My previous doctor, after questioning me about my diet (which consists mostly of beer and candy), actually told me I had "the bone density of a 60-year-old, pre-menopausal woman."

Come on.  Can a 60-year-old woman hit an 80 mph curveball?  No.

Well, neither can I.  ~L

Aller-geez!

Had allergies since I can remember.  Mostly in fall, but recently in spring.

While building a new pig feeder in the barn today something set off my sinuses.  Usually I can tell when they're gonna let loose, but this was an instant nasal Niagara Falls . With a streaming nose and eyes resembling a perp who's been peppered-sprayed on a episode of Cops (and no tissues handy) I resorted to using my "air hanky".

Alternating thumb-to-nostril from left to right, I blew with all I had.  Aside from plugged-up ears and bloodshot eyes, five minutes later I was back working like nothing happened.

I only wish I'd worn something with sleeves.  ~L

Latex Logs

While working on the lawn last night I discovered a possible reason why the dog was less-than-energetic earlier this week.  Nestled in the grass was a pile of red, white and blue (and brown) evidence that she'd eaten dozens of shards of broken balloons from my boys' recent water fight.

On a positive note - the colorful cuisine probably knocked a couple of days off the feed bill.  ~L

(Note: I refrained from using the phrases: rubber repast, party pooper and festive feces.)

Worthy of Foxworthy

Today is the 20th anniversary of my first (and only) speeding ticket.

With less than $100 in the bank, I took a cash advance on my Discover credit card (at 18% interest) to pay the $117 fine.

Kinda sounds like a Jeff Foxworthy redneck joke:  "If you've ever financed a speeding ticket..."  ~L

Not So Identical Twins

Earlier this week my seven-year-old, identical twin boys, Pete and Jack, put their creative skills to work and came up with these projects. 

Surprisingly, the one who was recently quoted  as saying, "I think I've found an appropriate speed to ride my bicycle" and "I'm researching owls on the Internet" came up with this:

The vintage airplane was created from the mind of the one who asks, "Can dogs eat raisins?" and "When we butcher the pigs can I shoot'em?"  Go figure. ~L

Clash of Cultures

Went to Wal-Mart this morning with my near-freshman daughter .  It's only a ten minute drive, but she couldn't complete the trip without listening to music on her iPod.  I put on the the radio for myself.

If she'd have listened to my music here's what was playing:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HiVunqkZ1RM&feature=related

If I'd have put her headphones on this is what I''d have heard:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1RnPB76mjxI
(after five seconds you can click to skip the commercial preceding the video)
~L

Keep Out of Reach of the Childlike

Two nights this week I accidentally grabbed the anti-diarrheal medicine instead of my allergy pills.  Both are useful products, but hardly interchangeable.

At least I'll sneeze with confidence.  ~L

Heavy Metal Fence

Many gardeners dangle CDs from their fences to scare animals from sneaking inside. We'll see if the flashing reflection from my Motorhead Greatest Hits disc works on deer. 

If not, maybe I'll just play it for them. ~L



Son of a Gun

Gun raffles are popular fund raisers around here.  Even our youth baseball/softball program sells tickets to win guns.  My boy, Pete, is a repeat winner. 

Three years ago (when he was four) he brought home a Remington 870 Express Magnum 12-gauge turkey shotgun.  This year he added a Ruger 10/22 .22 rifle to our collection.

From now on, his name goes on all of our tickets.  ~L

Those Who Trespass Against Us

Spent the morning cutting firewood on the neighbor's land - without permission.  Actually, the logs were cut by the electric company as they cleared the right-of-way under the power lines.  I just helped myself to his wood.  Figured I'd return the favor after I caught him riding his horse and his ATV on my property.  ~L

This Little Piggy....

Raising pigs this year. Been wanting to for a while. Hoped to get better video, but the camera battery gave out. Next footage will show them running out of their house when they hear "Soo-ee!" ~L

Proctological Prank

Found a doctor's rubber examination glove on the floor in the "senior" hall at school today. The index finger appeared to have been dipped in chocolate.

My inner joker gave a silent nod of approval.  ~L

Charlie Daniels - "Simple Man"

Been watching this one alot lately.  Written in '89, yet remains word-for-word relevant after 20+ years.  ~L
(the 10 second commercial at the beginning makes the video free to view)

Domestic Neglect

Off from work today to catch up on chores around the house.  Needed to get groceries, do laundry and mow the lawn before someone notified Social Services.

All the little boys had left in their dresser was a swimsuit and a pair of snow pants.  Not saying our grass was tall - but I did find the missing bicycle.  ~L

Time to Go

Tonight will be the first night in 31 years that I'll go to sleep at home without having my little Spartus digital clock to look at.

My Grandma Pies gave it to me for Christmas in 1980.  I've used it every day since, but lately it's electronics have started to hum - loudly. (Last night my wife covered it with a pillow). 

Got a new clock today.  The picture on the box showed green numbers - like my old one, but when plugged in it glows red.  I probably won't sleep well tonight.  ~L

Barnyards and Backwoods Baseball

Just another day in northern Wisconsin when your starting right fielder calls to say he might be late for the tournament because his cows got out and he's fixing fence.

Also, no surprise when most of the team prefers to wear camouflage jackets and flannel shirts instead of their expensive warm-up tops.

~L

Can't Make This Stuff Up - Part II

Muffled voices from various classrooms are heard throughout the halls on a non-descript school day.

Substitute teacher, Mr. West, makes use of a free class period to visit the middle school restroom for a much needed break.  He stands at a urinal, amongst the daily litter in the '50s-vintage facility, alone, staring at the wall.  He hears the hinges groan door on the heavy, wooden outer door as someone enters the room. 

From the left, Colin, a shovel-faced seventh grader with invisible eyelashes and thick, smudgy glasses, enters, approaches the adjacent urinal and strikes up a conversation.

COLIN:  Hey Mr. West.

MR. WEST, avoiding eye contact:  How's it goin', Colin?

COLIN:  Pretty good. Slight pause.  'Cept for the wart.

MR. WEST, caught off-guard by the unexpected comment:  Wart?

COLIN, disheartedly, holds out a thumb knuckle:  Yeah, it got tore off in phy-ed last hour.

MR. WEST, uncomfortable, still in the process of relieving himself, glances at the wrinkled gray protuberance as it dangles by a root from it's former location:  What are you gonna do with it?

COLIN:  I might tape it in place in case it grows back.  Or maybe I'll pick it off.

MR. WEST,  moving toward the sink, hoping to avoid further discussion:  Good luck with it, man.

COLIN, believing Mr. West is truly concerned:  Thanks.  I'll let you know.

Barely able to contain a smile, Mr. West exits restroom, leaving Colin pondering his dermatological dilemma.

~L

NOTE:  I recently saw the kid and asked him how his wart was doing.  He stared blankly at me until I reminded him of our previous conversation.  "It grew back" he beamed, proudly holding up the pencil eraser-sized nub on his knuckle.  He held it in place with band-aids until it took hold again.  ~L

Keeps on Ticking

Took off my pants yesterday and found these eight-legged eaters helping themselves to my legs.  Wet weather and a busy work schedule has kept me out of the woods, so this year's tick count stands at only 13.

Usually, I don't mind the apple seed-sized arachnids, but after last year's 10-day bout with Lyme's Disease I'm quick to pick them off.

As as kid, I was one of a privileged few who was allowed to peek at a tick buried in the scalp of our trailer park neighbor.  She left it stuck to her head to see how big it would get.  After a couple of days it grew to resemble a small grape.  It got big enough that it parted her hair - giving her a cowlick.

In high school, several of us went camping in the woods up north.  Shortly after settling into our tents for the evening one of the guys announced to the group that he had a wood tick stuck to his "sack".  After the whoops and hollers settled down and the camp became quiet again another voice asked, "How'd you know it was there?"  ~L

Sharp Dressed Man

If the old saying, "clothes make the man" is true - what does my pair of red socks, white baseball pants, knee-high muck boots, tattered barn jacket, and a cap with an obscenity on the front make? ~L

Oh Brother (In-Law)

Just winding down from an Easter dinner with the in-laws.  Getting together with my wife's family on major holidays is always enjoyable. She has seven brothers.  They are some of the kindest people you'll ever meet. But, after years of sharing a dinner table with these guys, all of whom grew up in a hardscrabble farm family of 14, they've provided me an opportunity to observe multitudes of mealtime misconduct.


Though the brothers (ranging in age from 47-60) are college-educated and professionally successful.  Each of whom continues to carry with him a lifetime of questionable table manners.  Plates are loaded in layers with heaping scoops from each of the serving bowls in the buffet line - with no regard as to what goes where. Pork roast on top of Jello . Gravy on grapes.  Coconut cream pie nestled in baked beans. Coleslaw sandwiches with pineapple and pickle shishkabobs. And everything smothered in ketchup.

Eating utensils are gripped like digging tools, as food is bulldozed back and forth across the workspace of their plates.  I'm not averse to using an occasional thumb to coax something onto a fork, but I've witnessed grown men using several fingers to trap and manipulate cake crumbs like he were packing a pinch of snuff.  And at least once a year someone actually licks his plate.

Fortunately, with 30 people in the house the clamor is loud enough to drown out the sounds of finger licking and lip smacking.  But when the conversation lulls, the noises emanating from their mouths have to be similar to that of a pack of hyenas gorging on peanut butter Popsicles.


One brother, with Olympic-sized offensive eating habits, never fails to leave me standing at the counter slack-jawed and slightly sickened.  His bulging styrofoam plateloads are legendary. This year's quivering concoction featured half a tube of crushed Ritz crackers sprinkled on top and half a stick of butter a-la-carte. ~L

Redneck Black Guy Sings Blues

R.L. Burnside:  See My Jumper Hanging On the Line (1978)

Sitting on a bucket in his backyard.  Listen to the kids hollering in the background.  Check out the shoes at 3:16.  Got the same ones.  ~L

Can't Make Up This Stuff

Had this conversation at school recently.

"Want to see a picture I drew yesterday?" the boy asked, as his sixth grade classmates filed into the room.  "I like looking at pictures." I replied, generically.  Though crudely drawn in a spiral notebook- and heavily smudged from his hand repeatedly brushing over the intense pencil work - the artwork mildly portrayed a terrestrial theme.  "I can't quite tell what it is," I said, handing back his drawing.  "I see a lot of stars."

"It's a macaroni spaceship," he beamed, proudly admiring his creation of elbow-style pasta with flames shooting from the hollow ends.  "There's two of them - blasting off into the galaxy.  I named them Mach I and Mach II - but now I call them Mac I and Mac II for short." 

(The anecdote alone is amusing.  But, read his quotes aloud - with a voice afflicted with adenoids - and you'll  understand why I shared it.)  ~L

What's That Smell?

Sadly, after weeks of performing painful digestive detective work (while sleeping on the couch), I've determined that my home brewed beer gives me dreadful wind.  ~L

101 Uses?




I wonder if the folks at the Swiss Army company have "scraping hard water deposits from a toilet bowl" in mind when they envision uses for their knives?  (I wiped it off really well before making supper.) ~L

Spring Cleaning

Spring arrived this week.  Finally.

After a humbling winter, consisting of weeks-long temperatures in the tens-below-zero, we Wisconsiners refer to any consecutive days above freezing as spring.  I'm almost giddy as I make my twice-daily trudge to the outdoor wood stove while needing only a pair of knee-high muck boots and one jacket.

Along with the renewed sense of excitement and freedom that the receding snow cover brings - also comes the need to tidy up the view from the front door. 

Because I live on a remote stretch of town road that dead-ends at a river, I find alot of "party supplies" jettisoned from passing vehicles. Mostly the usual - cardboard beer boxes, mis-matched women's under garments, and two-liter bottles of urine. Occasionally, I'll get lucky and salvage a still-useable girlie magazine.

This year, my seven-year-old boys volunteered for clean-up.  Not so much to help make things look nice, but to scavenge for rusty junk to stash in their bedroom.  They got a little excited when they discovered a bear hibernating in a culvert near our mailbox.  A closer look revealed the animal was actually a black lab that met an untimely demise on the road before the county plow pushed it into the ditch.

Near the house, scattered piles of sawdust, bark, and branches from my fledgling wood cutting business are now soggy eyesores. I should just declare the mess as highly valuable mulch I could sell to green-friendly townies, but the tattered blue tarps will take a hundred years to decompose.

I don't remember the season's first snowstorm, but apparently it struck with a Pompeii-like suddenness.  Scooters, baseball gloves and various articles of clothing lay exactly where the kids left them last fall.

The dog's been busy doing her part contributing to the clutter.  Unidentifiable chunks of what I assume is formerly-living wildlife are nearly as numerous as the beer cans she's fished out of the garbage.  Picking up the cans would be a lot easier if I didn't have to dodge the landmines she's deposited on the lawn.  Luckily, water-logged turds are easy to scrape from the soles of my shoes.  ~L

Eight Keys to Life

Over the years, two of my children have adorned their bedroom doors with various homemade posters and signs.  "No Boys Allowed!", "Do Not Enter!", and "Don't Touch My Stuff!" - traditional pre-teen admonitions. 

Recently, following their elder siblings' lead, my two youngest displayed their own artistic advert.  This is what seven-year-old boys find important.  ~L

According to my little ones, "things that help people live" are:
drinks, houses, brains, farting, bees, food, water, and exercises.



He Said What?

Found this on email this morning from my buddy, Doc.

A man is sitting at home, on the veranda with his wife when he says: "I love you."
She says: "Is that you or the beer talking?"
He replies: "It's me........talking to the beer."

(Ladies - reverse the roles, exchange the beer for wine and the joke is even funnier.) ~L

Done This...Several Times

This passage, titled Clotheshorse,  from the book Horseshoes, Cowsocks & Duckfeet by Baxter Black, makes me giggle each time I read it.  It also serves as a reminder of the many menswear misjudgements I've made.

"I do manage to wear good boots, which I save for good, but I buy bargains for my work boots.  I got a great deal on some steel-toed Red Wings, size 9, on sale for fifty-five dollars.  They're tough; I've been wearin' 'em for two years.  I'm tough too.  I normally wear a size 10."

(I finally gave away my like-new condition, flame print Chuck Taylor high-tops.  Keeping my big toenails trimmed short to wear them became an inconvenience, and sometimes - I wanted to wear them with socks.) ~L

Food for Thought

This evening's dinner conversation included the kids discussing the merits of naming a combination ketchup/mustard product (for use with corn dogs) either kestard or muchup.

As hillbilly hoi polloi, my children are unlikely to see the inside of an Emily Post finishing school..  ~L

The Way I Am

Apologies to Waylon, Merle, Ozzy and AC/DC.  Of all my favorite YouTube videos - I watch this one most often.  ~L

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QuBhjBQKrW4&feature=related

It's Sssspring!

Forget the robin. Around here it's officially spring when we see our first snake.

 

Almost stepped on this 30-incher as it sunned itself on the welcome mat.   It must've woke up ornery  - cause when I got up close it coiled up and sprung at me.  ~L

 

Bully Gets Beaten video

To Dan Booker, Loren Purintun, Barry Roach and Sandy Salisbury - I'm glad I fought back.

To Cary Shilts - after 35 years I'm still waiting for the chance.  ~L

Watch this bully get owned.
(in the video the smaller kid is bullying the bigger kid)

(If this video is missing from YouTube please check back - I'll find other links) ~L

Crush Turns 40

My kids' band, Crush, played it's 40th gig yesterday.  With band members/family friends, the Andersons, we lugged our gear on a 600-mile, three-day, three-show road trip to southwest Wisconsin. (So southwest that the next city was Dubuque, IA!)

Not bad for a couple of middle schoolers.

Thank you to everyone who follows our Facebook page and comes to the shows.  ~L

Johnny Cash Midnight Snack



 Was on my bad foot (see March 2 Physically Phfffft) way too much this weekend - including baseball practice tonight.  Gonna take the edge off like "The Man in Black" used to.

Physically Phfffft

It's March 2 and I'm already collecting material for my year-end "Lessons Learned in 2011" blog entry. 

Only two months after submitting my December 30, 2010 blog (which included a segment about learning a lesson after getting hurt in phy-ed class) and I've done it again. This time it wasn't eighth-grade boys - it was high school girls.

I didn't see the errant floor hockey puck flying toward me from the other side of the gym until it was under my foot.  My body, while in the process of converting itself from a vertical, full-speed running motion into a horizontal, motionless fetal position, attempted to self-diagnose the loud "snap" it heard a millisecond earlier. 

The sound might've come from either my cuboid or tarsal bone as they converted themselves from two pieces into five. Or that of the ligament which instantly disconnected itself from my foot - taking with it a chunk of the bone to which it was formerly attached.

After fitting me with a walking boot cast to immobilize my right foot, the podiatrist remarked how "lucky" I was.  The bone surrounding the attachment point of a tendon near the ball of my foot also started to break.  Fortunately, it remained attached.  If it hadn't, I risked a lifetime of discomfort and improper foot function.

I considered myself "lucky" my foot was hurt bad enough to warrant wearing a cast. Never mind a possible lifetime of disability - if I was sent home with only an ace bandage and an ice pack, my students would never let me live down the spectacle I made of myself - flopping around the gym floor, caterwauling like an infant.

For the remainder of the school year I intend to be only as physical active as needed to carry a clipboard and a whistle.  Or until I make my December 31, 2011 blog entry.  ~L

Blog Hop Reveal

Again, I apologize for not getting my blog hop set up correctly from the start.  I never figured out how to do it like the others.  Some replies came in via e-mail.

Here's my lie:

I DO NOT have an autographed picture of Waylon Jennings (I wish I did) displayed next to my wedding photos.

I boxed in a Silver Gloves boxing match as a 15-year old in 1981.

I own 31 pairs of shoes/boots.

Thanks for looking.  ~L

Blog Hop

Sorry for being late with my blog hop truths and lie.  The day I linked my blog with the other participants my entire family (including me) went down with a fast-moving stomach bug.  I'm home today cleaning up the aftermath.

For those still wanting to play here are my my statements:

1.  I fought in an officially sanctioned boxing match.

2.  I own more than 30 pairs of shoes.

3.  I have an autographed photo of Waylon Jennings on display next to my wedding pictures.

I'll post the answer shortly.  Thanks for playing.  ~L

Bruce Brewski

My first batch of home brew, an American creamy ale, is a success.  An novice palate might describe it's flavor as resembling a combination of roasted malt and sewer gas with subtle hints of late-summer county landfill.  Even with the heady industrial aftertaste it's still better than Bud Light.  ~L

What I Saw in Madison This Weekend

Loaded up the family Friday night for a quick, overnight trip to Madison.

Enjoyed seeing my basketball-loving wife watch her former college coach lead the Badger women to a come-from-behind near-victory against Michigan at the Kohl Center.

Witnessed my 13-year-old daughter reconnect with reading a good book.

Watched the sixth grade son devour half of a large Pizza Hut pan pizza by himself - just before bedtime.

Finally saw the water-timid seven-year-old boys brave enough to completely dunk their heads in the hotel pool. 

I'm always satisfied with what I see when I take time to look.

"Never Missed a Super Bowl" club member dies

Without knowing their backgrounds I figured one of them had to be a Packer fan.

http://www.jsonline.com/news/obituaries/116135199.html

Eatin' High on the Hog...and Cow...and Deer...

Slipping in and out of a meat-induced coma after tonight's supper.  I pushed the limits of country cuisine by charcoal grilling up a batch of hot dogs wrapped in venison burger and bacon and topped with melted cheese.

 Ingredients are few

* 2 lbs. hamburger
* 1 lb. thin-sliced bacon
* 8 natural casing wieners (adds "snap" texture)
* grated cheese

How it's done

Form burger into eight patties.  Place hot dog on top of patty and roll up patty so it encases dog.  Burger adheres to dog better if dog is towel-dried first.

Wrap the dog/burger combo with two pieces of bacon.  I did a spiral pattern in one direction with the first piece - then went the opposite direction with second piece.  The bacon holds the entire unit together nicely during grilling process.

Slow cooking

These masses of meat need an hour of grilling to cook through - so use indirect heat to avoid burning.  Push hot coals to one side of grill and place meat on opposite side.  Put cover on grill and cook for half-hour on one side, then roll over and cook for another half-hour.  Add cheese.  When cheese melts, remove from grill.

Standard hot dog/brat buns will not hold these meaty masterpieces.  You'll need sub buns or hardrolls.  Happy heart attack! ~L

Ups and Downs

Air conditioning is considered by many to be man's greatest invention.  It makes some of the world's most uncomfortable climates hospitable. (Although around here a nice wood stove is as equally valuable.)

I've heard penicillin is pretty good too.

But, for me (and especially my wife) a working garage door opener is at the top of the list. ~L

Weight Gaining Room

Being "on-call" today, with no morning teaching assignment, gave me a much-needed chance to sneak into our school's fitness/weight room.

A careful arrangement of padded benches and floor mats created an ideal place for me to work on a can of pop, some potato chips and take a nap. ~L

Facing Fear Through a Friend

Whether we admit it or not, most of us have something we're afraid of.  Not dentist drill afraid, or public speaking afraid - but rather a fear of something so dreadful we bury it deep within ourselves lest it keep us awake at night.  Financial ruin afraid.  Cancer afraid.  Or things worse.

As children, our fears involved flying insects, thunderstorms, or a bicycle with no training wheels.  When we became teenagers it was a first kiss, embarrassing acne or parallel parking on a busy street. Adulthood revealed the scary uncertainty of keeping the mortgage current or the possibility of health problems for our unborn children.

Parts of yesterday and today were spent huddled in a small house at the end of a quiet street, watching a man writhe in agony as he struggles with the shock of a life changed forever. My greatest fear, the fear that secretly makes me keep the blinds partially drawn on this window of time in my life, is being lived out by a close friend - directly in front of me.

An array of cars squeeze in along the street and wherever they can find space in his driveway.  Under the shadow of the streetlight people shuffle silently toward his house.  The air inside is warm and pleasant as it greets his somber visitors with the smell of casserole and percolating coffee.  The floor mat inside the door is soaked with melted snow from the forty pairs of shoes that have used it today.  Parents and grandparents seated in folding chairs around the perimeter of the living room smile softly as they make eye contact with the stream of well-wishers who file through. 

It's been an anguishing two days. Surely there's countless more to come.  I've watched him lose control of all that he knows.  My heart aches for him.  I choose not to look at his face anymore - for fear I'll see my own.

Cold Weather Chemistry

Thirty-five degrees below zero (-35 F) this morning cancelled school and gave me a chance to show the kids a magic trick.

Tooth Fairy Saves Himself

Near disaster at our house this morning.  The tooth fairy fell asleep before he made his rounds.

The daring dentin-for-dollar exchange went down at 6:30 am - with both seven-year old boys awake in their beds.  Breaking from our usual routine, I asked for a "good morning" kiss.  When I leaned over to get my kiss the tooth fairy eased his hand under the pillow and made the deposit undetected.

Five minutes later both boys were squinting under the bright kitchen lights looking at the money.  ~L

Skillet Skills

Betty Crocker - don't steal my idea.

Tonight your Cheeseburger Helper became Venison Helper - with garden onions and bacon bits.  Add a squirt of ketchup and this meal is ready for a bun.  ~L

Oven Mitts

High school and Little League pre-season workouts started last night. 

Henry and I warmed our gloves in the oven so the leather would soak up the mink oil.  My three needed extra heat to thaw after storage in the garage all winter.

Our fancy new stove has no baking setting for "horsehide". ~L

Show Me the Mooney!

Another fine, upstanding Wisconsin citizen.  ~L

http://www.thesmokinggun.com/documents/crime/man-busted-after-brief-encounter

Happy "Poo" Year!

An unexpected absence in the elementary school this morning lead me to a gig with the first and second graders. With no faculty restroom on the lower level I ducked into the the "little boys" room before first bell. 

Immediately upon entering the double doors I was greeted by a small student looking up at me with pleading eyes.  The young man, naked from the waist down and in obvious intestinal distress, had just pooped his pants.  In an attempt to clean himself, he proceeded to empty the contents of his underpants onto the toilet seat - and all over the floor.

In his haste to remove the offending material from the toilet seat, he inadvertently dropped some under his feet.  When I arrived it looked like the lad had performed an Irish jig from the musical River Dance.  Footprints and speckles everywhere - including on his jacket and backpack.

With a wad of paper towels and a copious amount of hand sanitizer, I gingerly disposed of the socks and the remnants of his Spiderman undies and gently eased him back into his soiled sweatpants and boots.

The last I saw, he and the principal were waiting for his mother to arrive.  ~L

Mouse Count: Finally...50!

October 19 was the estimated date to achieve the goal of trapping 50 mice in my pole barn this fall.  It started August 29 and took until 7:30 pm on December 31 to finish.

Three-for-four the first day.

Lessons Learned in 2010

Unlike 2009, I'm proud to report that this year I had only pleasant working-relationships with duct tape, axes and electrical wires.  The bare patches in my beard have grown back, my limp is almost gone and the dishwasher no longer triggers the smoke alarm.

But, this past year presented me with several more lessons to work on in 2011.

* Regardless of how much I convince myself I can still mix-it-up with students during phy-ed class, a head-on collision with an 8th-grade boy can cause six weeks of uncomfortable sleep and long-term labored breathing.

* Sometimes, a seven-year-old, behaving incorrigibly in front of a crowd at a waterpark does not always mean he's being a brat.  It can also mean he's about to throw-up pepperoni pizza and Gatorade all over the rope bridge that dangles just above patrons floating down the Lazy River ride.

* Seeing a "low fuel" warning light flashing on the dashboard will no longer challenge me to see how far I can drive before stopping for gas. (Especially when driving a fully-loaded Suburban with my family, while pulling a camper into a 30 mph headwind in 90 degree heat in desolate central Iowa on the first day of a two-week vacation to the Grand Canyon).  ~L

Redneck Recycling

Heating the house with Christmas-generated garbage.  If you can tolerate the acrid smoke - packing peanuts, bubble wrap and styrofoam give off alot of BTUs (and CFCs).

Wis. Postal Worker Delivers Mail In The Buff

Wis. Postal Worker Delivers Mail In The Buff « CBS Minnesota – News, Sports, Weather, Traffic, and the Best of Minnesota

A Gift From Jellybean

Our dog discovered the gut pile from Henry's deer.  A large set of purple lungs greeted me from the garage floor this morning when I went out to warm up the car.  ~L

Won't Last Long ...Literally

We Wisconsoners are thoughtful and thrifty.  This is a real craigslist ad from November 14, 2010.

free 20# bag of ice (new..never opened) (Menomonie)

Date: 2010-11-14, 5:43PM CST

I have a 20# bag of ice to give away. I am getting my turkey this week and need to remove the ice bag to make room in my freezer. I was going to let it melt, but I thought someone might be able to use it with the holidays coming up.

•Location: Menomonie

http://eauclaire.craigslist.org/zip/2060352721.html

Just finished reading...

Our little community library system has an excellent selection of small-town books written by amateur authors.  Last week I found this in Ladysmith.

Monster Fire at Minong: Wisconsin's Five Mile Tower Fire of 1977.

For those with personal ties to the Minong/Gordon/Wascott area in northern Wisconsin in the mid 1970's (as I have), author Bill Matthias recaptures the events that took place leading up to that fateful week. 

More than 1,500 area residents who fought the fire (including one from my family) and dozens of local businesses are mentioned.

Happy Hour Helps Humanity

My contribution to civilization.



Finally, beer drinkers get the recognition they deserve.

Here's the link:  http://www.aolnews.com/weird-news/article/archaeologist-beer-sowed-the-seeds-of-civilization/19709587?test=latestnews

Eat Like Elvis

Ran out of ideas for supper last night, so it was fried, peanut butter and banana sandwiches - just like Elvis used to eat.  Instead of pan-frying them in bowel-hardening lard, like The King, I used Smart Balance spread and an electric griddle.

Happy to report - this morning I discovered no one slumped over, unconscious, on the toilet. 

(note: for you younger readers - that's how Elvis was found before he died)

Limber Legs

Hacky Sacking at lunch hour the past several weeks has earned me valuable "street cred" with a certain segment of the student body.  I still bring a handstand serve and "the kiss".

It's Not Every Day...

This afternoon I witnessed a haggard-looking gentleman with an eye patch eating a banana in a Mercedes at Wal-Mart.  I had a camera, but decided not to ask.