Thanks for Smoking?

Hello kiddies, this is your pilot speaking. We've achieved our cruising altitude, so feel free to remove your seat belts, use your trays, and roam about the cabin freely. Oh, and thank you for not smoking. Oh hell, who am I kidding? Smoke em if you got em. And without further ado, today's special is changes in smoking.

So last night my wife asked me how long did I smoke cigarettes for. The answer she got was surprising none the less. What she thought was just one or two years, was actually much longer than that. It's a habit that followed me all the way back to middle school. And that's probably why it was the most shocking. The fact that I was so young when I started sneaking my first few heaters. 

Today it's much harder to get a smoke. Unless you're bumming off someone, or sneaking them away from a family member, you have to get a store clerk to get them for you. Thus, most underage smokers have to find a work around if their folks won't buy for them. But people forget, that this wasn't the case many moons ago. Years ago it was easy to get your hands on some death sticks. You could walk into a store or gas station and just say, "My old man wants a pack of Luckies." And off you went to enjoy a carcinogenic apparatus. To make matters worse, you didn't even have to go that far. There was many a building with a cigarette vending machine by the door. 

This brings me to where I got a hold my first lung fillers. Right down the street from where I lived at the time, was the county courthouse. To add insult to injury, I had a friend whose mom worked there. So people were used to seeing us in, out, and all around there anyways. Well just inside the main entrance was a slew of vending machines. Food, drinks, and of course cigarettes. It was an older machine at that, so for 75 cents, you had clouded lungs in minutes. But of course, the courthouse isn't always open, and you wanted to keep your options just in case it was, but the machine was out of your brand. So for a while, gas stations where that back up. But then came the day when all of that ended. A new smoke shop went up, with a drive up window. If an adult was in the store you needed to back away and act like you were being turned away, and if someone was at the drive up, just be really quite. Simple rules. Follow them, and you could walk out with a carton of death. But of course most of us didn't have that money often. So I did was every other kid would do. I ran sacked the house looking for loose change. Couches, chairs, counters, you name it. Because for just 99 cents, I was going to be enjoying my smoke. 

As if that wasn't enough, when I did start high school, they had finally banned smoking on all parts of campus to include the shop. So what did we do? We held our protest smoke directly across the street from the front of the school every morning before class, and every day at lunch. Of course, we always felt accomplished on the occasions a teacher would come out and smoke with us. We weren't exactly smart enough to realize, they didn't care if we smoked or not. That would happen a couple years later when we'd smoke in the parking lot. Ah yes, life was good.

Then came my years when I went to military school. I always got a laugh out of the idiots that would get in trouble for smoking. They had no idea how to hide it. You couldn't mask the smell in your room, and hanging out the back window would get you caught eventually. But they never learned. I kept my burners in my soap dish. Nobody ever noticed I had two there instead of one. And being that we had community showers, with a forever open window, that also housed where we did our laundry, and the toilets, it made sense to me. People were always coming and going, the place already smelt like crap, so who would notice? So every morning, and every evening I'd take a shower, leaning just out of the water and enjoying a smoke. Nobody ever caught on, and I never got caught. 

I stopped smoking, or more like changed my smoking while still in the USMC. I had found new ways of dealing with stress like SCUBA diving. It wasn't until then that I truly noticed how bad smoking really sticks out. For a non-smoker is gross. For a former smoker, it's heinous. You can smell and taste a cigarette from a mile away. Yes, you can actually taste it. And if you had smoked enough, and were familiar with certain brands, you can actually tell what someone is smoking based on that smell and/or taste. It's that bad. 

Fortunately for me, my wife is known to occasionally smoke as well so I don't have to worry about getting bitched at for my current smoking habits. So even to this day, I'm still known and seen with a cigar. And for those of you that truly know me, or have followed my blog for any length of time, know that I love my cigars. Plus, I occasionally pull out my hookah. Normally this is during the colder times of the year when I don't want to step outside for my stogie. Rarely am I seen with a cigarette. One day, I'll probably try a good old fashioned pipe. But for me I found cigars really are the best match. 

Do I recommend smoking? No. It really is a bad habit. It's truly not for everyone.  And I'm sure it's contributed to my recent development of asthma. But unlike most smokers who stick with it because of the addiction to tobacco, I'm one of the few that can say I smoke because I truly enjoy it. And I limit myself. For instance I haven't had a smoke in well over a month, and it's not a big deal. I know at some point in the near future I'll put my trigger finger to use on a nice fat cigar. It's probably best labeled as a hobby today. 

My advice is if you're going to do it, just be responsible. Be considerate of others, especially the non-smokers. And if you aren't a smoker I'll say this..... thanks for not smoking. 

A Dirty Snack

Now sometimes in life you do something you think is a good idea. In retrospect it turns out it probably wasn't the best thing you could have done but a deal is a deal. And this blog is the genius of my brother +Shane. Granted, it's not his worst, and trust me we've shared some down right horrible ideas over the years. But I'm afraid of no subject, so our subject is..... corn poop.

Oh crap, you read that right people. Corn poop.

Now corn brings a lot of happiness. Corn on the cob, off the cob, grilled, steamed, boiled, buttered, salted, peppered, powdered with other flavors, mixed with other veggies, and let's not forget my personal favorite, popcorn. It's a staple of meals, especially during special events or holidays. Many a tailgate party has had corn on the side. And there are many a campsite where you'll find left over cobs from the golden goodness that is corn. We even use is to feed the chickens that will soon be our dinner. But after all that's said and done, we're all familiar with the after affect that is corn poop.

It comes in many forms. The brown loaf of death, dotted throughout with yellow kernel's that are only slightly dimmer coming out than they were going in. Then there's those days that are just a little looser, where you blast it out as if your colon were a shotgun. But there's no gold in those hills. Not even fools gold. Sadly it's not even chocolate in a gold colored wrapper. Nope, it's just an Easter egg for your porcelain thrown.

And regardless of what you read while you're in the library, or what level you made it to playing games on your phone. You'll forever be lured to the site that is.... corn poop.

Thanks for the shitty idea Shane.

Update on Moi

Hello kids! I know, I know. You've been screaming about where the hell I went off too. Well I'm back. And I'll fill you in. Startiiiiiinnnnngg...... now.

So as you all know by now, I spent the past few years working for scraps with the Medical Examiner. Well that's history. Yes, that's right, the dark one finally said "F" you, I'm out! It's all part of my lifestyle adjustment to focus on the positive, and get a little more enjoyment out of life. And so far, it's paid off in spades.

So where am I now? Well, I'm working at the T-Mobile tech center here in Albuquerque now. No, not customer service. Screw billing and the headache it entails. But as part of that change, I switched from nights, to days. A bigger adjustment than I though it would be. And then starting last weekend, I moved to a swing shift which is much more comfortable, and allows me to have a 3 day weekend every week. Oh yeah, I know you're jealous of that last part.

So, with that said. Grab an adult beverage (root beer for you under-ager's), possibly a good cigar, sit back, and keep your eye's peeled because the blog is about to take fight again!

(Joe and +Shane Snyder I haven't forgotten about you guys. Sock puppet's and corn poo are on the agenda.)

Team Not Individuals

Alright boys and girls, time for my triumphant return. Sound the horns, because not only am I back, I'm pissed. Why? Because not only do some people not need kids, but they need to keep their mouths shut about good discipline and order. Stand-by folks, the shit is hitting the fan.

So my lovely wife forwarded a news article on to me. (I'll attach a link at the bottom) Basically the community in a Utah town are raising Kane because a football coach made a decision to suspend his entire team for being jerks. According to the article all 80 players have been benched, are being tasked with community service, and are having to earn the right to play. This is because of his players cyber bullying, cutting classes, and being disrespectful to teachers.

That's right, the community is pissed that the coach is instilling discipline, and character into this team. To the coach I say, OUTSTANDING! To the parents of the players I say, "Shame on you." To the community that's crying I say, "You should be ashamed of yourselves." More and more parents are letting their kids have free reign. We have a generation of selfish, and ignorant cowards heading into the world with a sense of entitlement. No, I'm not talking about politicians.

#1 The parents obviously have failed to instill discipline into these kids, that's part of what sportsmanship is.
#2 Respect isn't just a standard on the field of battle, it's a standard in life. These kids obviously need to learn that.
#3 It's a team. Everyone works together. If one person fails to do what they're supposed to, the team fails to accomplish their mission.

It's called a TEAM, not a group of individuals, which so many people seem to have forgotten. This coach is teaching these kids what the adults have forgotten, teamwork, team ethics, character, discipline, and he's doing through action. Words are nothing without action. These kids have had enough words. They're old enough to know right from wrong. If they're not held accountable for their actions as this point in their life, then they're being setup for failure later on in life. And if they're set up for failure, whose to blame? The community will blame the parents, which is where they should be looking now instead of crucifying the coach. The community is to blame because they're not holding the bar and doing their part to ensure that kids are being taught right by being held accountable for their actions.

Here's the thing. I've seen way to many cases of parents being allowed to drop the ball. The news reminds us all the time. Kids are being conditioned to call the police, or claim they're being abused if a parent punishes them. What's worse is parents are giving up, and just letting their kids run wild because they're afraid of having to face the court for doing what they should as parents. But at the same time they don't want to see anyone else discipline their kids, and teach them what they as parents have failed to. Teachers and councilors bitch, moan, and complain that they have to teach kids so much these days. This is because nothing is being done! If parents would step up to the plate and do their damn job, life would be easier for everyone all around. Our kids would be better people, our educators would be able to educate instead of play referee, and our coaches could focus on sports!

You're upset because your kid wasn't involved and shouldn't have to pay? Shut the hell up, it's a team effort! They're not being kicked off the team, they're working to pick up the weaker players and actually build a team instead of a gang! Don't want them to be a TEAM player? Give them a gameboy instead.

This coach is going against the norm, by doing what everyone should. He's doing the right thing, for the right reasons, and looking out for the future of these kids. If you don't understand it, you need to step back and look at the big picture.


http://foxnewsinsider.com/2013/09/26/utah-high-school-football-coach-suspends-entire-team-cutting-classes-cyberbullying

Marthon of Life: Dean Karnazes Inspiration

Today will be a little different than my norm. Not that I really have a norm. Instead, today we'll be taking a quick look at a book a brother Marine recommended. Ultramarathon Man: Confessions of an All Night Runner by Dean Karnazes. Now before I get into it, I'll take a second to remind you, I'm not big on running. If you recall my previous blog on fun exercise, I made it pretty clear. But this book made me want to lace up and hit the pavement. To sum it up quickly, it's a great read.

Dean writes this, picking segments out of his life. Where he first found his love of the run, to where he is now. Throughout his story, you come across humor that makes you want to yell, "Run, Forest, Run." At the same time though, you get presented with something that most sport/athletic books leave out, injury. And I'm not talking the occasionally mentioned bumps, bruises, and barely mentioned breaks. I'm talking details that make you take notice, and say, "Holy COW!" At the same time, however, Dean doesn't go into painstakingly descriptive rants about it. It's simple, and straight forward with just enough detail.

From the get go, the book pulls you right in. It's not written like a biography, nor is it written like a sports journal. Which lets face it, too many sports books are. Instead, Dean writes like he's talking directly to you. And why not? He is in fact telling his story to the world. It reads like a casual conversation that you'd have with a close friend. This is seriously the fastest read I've had in years.

Even though it's about him and his exploits, he doesn't just ramble on about himself. He talks about his family, what they've been through, how they've grown, and how they've hit the high's and low's of life together, adapted and overcome. Love and loss, it's all right there. He talks about some of the people he's met, and who all he runs for as well. If anything you find love and tragedy throughout this book, but in good portions. Neither overshadows the other.

Ultimately this book is about the ultra marathon we call life. Running is just how Dean gets through it. It's inspiring, a breath of fresh air, and a lost toe nail all at once. While I'd love to give more detail, I'm afraid I'd get carried away and give out too much. So I'll simply say go read this book. It will make you feel good.

P.S. Thanks for the great recommendation Adam. Semper Fi brother.

Whose the Best? A Marks Answer

Time for a jaunt into lost youth, entertainment, and the world of professional wrestling. Kidding? Nope, I'm serious. While yes, it's scripted, it's still brings countless hours of joy to young kids, and the inner child of adult men across the country. Like most men of my generation, I started watching pro wrestling back in the 80's. The days of NWA, WWF (now called WWE), neon, flash, over the top characters, and REALLY BAD HAIR.And while this form of sports entertainment changes with every generation, there's a question on the lips of every mark out there. Who's your favorite wrestler?

For me, I've always been a black sheep with a lot of things. This area is really no different. Over the years, the average fan will utter the names of Flair, Hogan, the Rock, and occasionally Bret Hart, or Sting. While those men have made their mark and earned their way, the names I always wanted to watch were different. Piper, DDP, and Austin. Ok, not that different, but lets take a look at them.

The 80's were great. I started watching, and cheering like other boys. For me though, I could have given a rats booty about Hulk Hogan. While everyone else was Hulking up, I was excited to see Rowdy Roddy Piper. The man was a maniac. Hardcore, before hardcore was a thing. While most people were saying holy cow, I was saying PIPER, PIPER, PIPER! The 90's came around, and it got better. Hogan was starting to show his age, fans were starting to see him for who he always has been. A weak wrestler that could cut a great promo. So when Piper crossed over into WCW and was working a feud with him, it was a weird good time. I went from cheering for the bad guy, to cheering for the good guy because both men switched places.

But the 90's were a turbulent time for wrestling. The pomp and circumstance was no longer the status quo, as balls and attitude were the new demand. And while Piper will always be my first favorite, I was still cheering for the dark side. Enter Diamond Dallas Page. A bad guy with style. And he was just getting better and better. The best part, his finisher the Diamond Cutter can and would come out of nowhere. But there was something interesting that really pulled me in. In a short span of a few years of actually wrestling, everyone was cheering for the bad guy instead of the good guy. It wasn't because he was being bad, instead, it was because he was standing his ground and telling the good guys, and the bad guys where to stick it. He did what he wanted on his terms. It wasn't over the top, it wasn't flashy, it seemed somewhat real and could be related to by anyone. He was essentially opening up to take on the entire roster. It was incredible.

But DDP wasn't alone in this. Stone Cold Steve Austin entered his own here too. He had been fun to watch in the past, but this character was him. He turned on his handler, he gave the finger to everyone, and essentially was doing the same thing as DDP but in a different way. While DDP was the self made man doing what was best for him, Austin was essentially saying, "You're not the boss of me!" It was something that everyone from the adolescent to the working man could find. So seeing what the two of these men would do next was almost always a gamble. Unlike what Piper was doing, and the rest of the previous generation of wrestlers, it was no longer the predictable good versus evil. It was now a game of who could hit harder.

These days wrestling can still be fun. But it's not the same. It's a different generation, relating to a different audience. Sadly, some wrestlers haven't realized that 30 plus years is too much and haven't retired from full time involvement, while others occasionally show up as a blast from the past. But it's not a weekly venture for me any more. It's an on/off relationship that I come back to every couple months. The torch has been passed. And with all the change, not everything is different. Much like real sports, it's something that old fans and new fans alike can sit down and talk about.

Thank You

I just wanted to say thank you to all of my loyal readers. This month past month has seen my highest number of hits yet. Would love to see that trend continue. 

Thank you all. Without all of you, this would just be an online diary.