September 10, 2011 · 12:14 pm

A Moment of Silence

There are no words I can say that haven’t been said.

There are no images I can post that haven’t been seen.

There are no tears I can cry that haven’t been shed.

There are no lyrics I can sing that haven’t been sung.

There are no thoughts I can offer that haven’t been thought.

There is no sorrow I can feel that hasn’t been felt.

There is no anger I can vent that hasn’t been vented.

There are no memories I can share that haven’t been shared.

So today I offer just a moment of silence…

 

 

…and tomorrow I will relive that infamous day 10 years ago.

All around me on the television and the radio and the internet.

And when the day is over,

I will hug my wife and children,

and be thankful for the life that I have,

because of this amazing country that I live in.

 

 

 

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September 8, 2011 · 6:47 pm

Kidnapped!

Ring, ring…

DISPATCH:  Police dispatch, how can I help you today?

ME:  Hi, thank you for taking my call. I called you the other day about my kids.

DISPATCH: Sir, I take lots of calls every day… what about your kids?

ME:  Well I’d reported that they’d been kidnapped… but you can just disregard that now.

DISPATCH:  Sir, may I have your name please?

ME:  Mr. Warner.

DISPATCH:  Okay Mr. Warner, it looks like you live on Brown Road?

ME:  Yes I do… I write a blog called Brown Road Chronicles… it’s very funny… have you read it.

DISPATCH:  No, I have not read it… I’m very busy sir, can we please get back to the reason for your call?

ME:  Oh, yes, I’m sorry. I need to cancel that kidnapping report.

DISPATCH:  Okay, let me find your file… one moment, please.

A few minutes later

DISPATCH:  Okay, sir, I am looking at your file.  It looks like you reported your children missing this past Tuesday morning.  That was the first day of school, correct?

ME:  Yes, the first day of school.

DISPATCH:  Did you see your kids that morning?

ME:  No… just the two other kids.

DISPATCH:  Uhhh… who are the two other kids?

ME:  Well you see, when I woke up that morning there were these two other kids in my house. They were wide awake and ready to go to school. They looked familiar, but they were definitely not my kids.

DISPATCH:  Whose kids were they?

ME:  I don’t know sir… I didn’t really recognize them… but they were very pleasant… they must have very good and responsible parents. They were here Wednesday morning also.

DISPATCH:  And your own kids were gone?

ME:  Yes, they appeared to be gone. There was just those two other kids… that’s when I reported the kidnapping.

DISPATCH:  Ummm… okay…. but your kids are back now?

ME:  Yes, yes, I’m pretty sure they’ve been returned safely.

DISPATCH:  What do you mean, you are pretty sure? Are you not sure?

ME:  No, I’m pretty sure.

DISPATCH:  Sir, kidnapping is a serious situation.  Are you sure your kids are there with you?

ME:  Well they’re not with me right now… they’re probably at home.  I am not at home right now, but I drove them to school this morning.

DISPATCH:  So they were at home this morning?

ME:  Yes, I’m pretty sure it was them.

DISPATCH:  And not those other kids that you referred to.

ME:  Yes, yes, not those other kids.  You see, when I went into my son’s bedroom this morning he complained about getting up. After three or four times, he finally got up, but then he lied on the couch and didn’t want to get ready for school and he didn’t want to get his own breakfast.  So I’m pretty sure that it was my son and not that other boy… you know… the one that was here on Tuesday and Wednesday… he didn’t do any of that stuff.

DISPATCH:  Uhhhh…. okay… and your daughter… is she home safely as well?

ME:  I think so.

DISPATCH:  You think so?

ME:  Yes, you see, after the fourth or fifth trip upstairs to get her to wake up, she finally got up, and then she was running around quite chaotically and very disorganized, looking for her school supplies and the stuff she needed for volleyball practice. So I’m pretty sure that it was my daughter and not that other girl… you know… the one that was here on Tuesday and Wednesday… she had all her stuff very organized and packed and ready to go.

DISPATCH:  Sir, have you ever heard the expression “the honeymoon is over”? I think maybe that was just your own kids and they were excited to go to school on those first two days.  It doesn’t take long for kids to get back into their old habits though.  Two days might be a record… I hate to say it, but I think the honeymoon may be over.

ME:  So you don’t think they were missing?

DISPATCH:  No, I think everything was okay. They’re kids… and that’s how kids are.  I will go ahead and close up this case.  Is there anything else I can help you with today?

ME:  Do you have a calendar there?

DISPATCH:  Yes I do… is there something I can look up for you?

ME:  Yes, please… can you tell me how many days until summer vacation?

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September 7, 2011 · 8:39 pm

Fantasy Football

I have been invited to participate for a second year in a row in a fantasy football league with some friends.  It costs $20.00 to play and the top two teams split up the money. I played last year for the first time and came in last place. I’m pretty sure that’s why they invited me back.  When they held our draft last year I showed up with everything I thought was necessary to draft a successful fantasy football team.  That included a six-pack of beer and… well, actually that’s all I brought was the beer.  It wasn’t fantasy beer, it was real beer.  In fact it was a six-pack of pretty good beer – Sam Adams Boston Lager.  But that was all I brought.  I didn’t even have a pen.  All of the other guys had stacks and stacks of papers and notes and draft guides and all kinds of other fantasy football documentation. I felt like I was having a bad dream where I had arrived at a test site to take the SAT without ever having looked at a study guide or a sample test and having forgotten my #2 pencil! But I had beer.  Some of the other guys had beer also, so I didn’t feel totally out-of-place, but it was cheap beer.  Budweiser and Miller Lite were well represented.  I quickly became very thankful that I hadn’t brought my usual drink of choice… Chardonnay.  One of the guys was nice enough to give me some of his spare player worksheets so that I could document all of my picks.

I love football. In fact, I’m a hard-core, eternally loyal, purple and gold bleeding Minnesota Vikings fan and have been since I was a kid.  But I don’t follow the entire NFL like all of these other guys.  They know who every player is, what positions they play and which teams they play for. Let alone not having the time to keep track of all of that, I just don’t find it that interesting.  Some of these guys are also participating every year in multiple fantasy football leagues. Talk about a time suck! I will admit it was kind of fun last year, but one league is enough for me to satisfy my… umm… football fantasies.

Speaking of that, I think they should change the name of fantasy football to something more appropriate.  The term armchair quarterback, of course, comes from fans sitting in their armchairs, watching a sporting event and screaming instructions at the players on the TV screen.  Maybe instead of fantasy football, it should be called Armchair Football.  In my opinion, the term fantasy football has a kind of sexual connotation to it.  Perhaps that stems from when I run around the house in my Vikings jersey and football helmet pretending I’m a football player and my wife puts on her sexy Vikings cheerleader outfit and…. yeah…. uhhh… nevermind…

Anyway, if you are playing fantasy football this year, I wish you the best!  May I suggest a glass of Chardonnay with your nachos and chicken wings this Sunday?

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September 6, 2011 · 8:56 pm

Doing the Laundry

Okay, I’m going to lay it all on the line here.  I don’t want a bunch of fan mail or anything.  This really isn’t a big deal. Maybe I’ll alienate some men out there, maybe I’ll have some women attempting to mail me love letters… or maybe not… whatever.  I just feel its time, after all these months, to put this out there.

Ready…

Wait for it…

Okay, here goes…

I do my own laundry.

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, that there aren’t any guys out there that do their own laundry. That’s a terrible misconception though that I am here to correct. C’mon, give us guys some credit! Sure, maybe us laundry washing guys are a rare species, but it’s true, there are guys out there that can do their own laundry.  Seriously! My mom taught me to do my own laundry sometime around middle school age. I don’t actually remember learning how to do laundry as a kid and I don’t remember any kind of bribery or ultimatum. I only remember starting to wash my own laundry around that age. I keep hoping that someday I’ll be able to retrieve that memory from deep down inside my overloaded brain, so that I can similarly convince my own kids to start washing their own laundry.

You want to know what else?  Sometimes I iron. I know, I know… hold the applause.

Have I told you how awesome my wife is?  She’s the best!  She’s loving and caring and is a wonderful Mom to our two beautiful children.  She does so much for our family, she volunteers her time. She is well-respected and loved by many.  Plus she loves and puts up with me and for that she deserves a lot of credit!

Sometimes she even does my laundry.

My wife is always giving me shit because I am, apparently, particular about my clothes. It’s not the washing necessarily, but the drying. I have lots of clothes that have never seen a dryer and hopefully never will.  Dryers ruin clothes. Dryers shrink clothes and shorten their life. Because I fancy myself to be so awesomely suavé (aww-SUMM-lee SWA-vay) I buy clothes that are nice and fitted and one small trip through the dryer’s heat cycle and suddenly they don’t fit anymore.

So here’s my two rules of doing laundry.

1. There are two kinds of laundry.  All clothes that are not red… and clothes that are red. You don’t need to separate darks and lights. That’s just a waste of time.  Just don’t throw any red clothes in with your other clothes or you’ll have lots of pink clothes.  On second thought, just don’t buy red clothes… who the fuck wears red clothes anyway… what are you Santa Claus?

2. Nice jeans, dress shirts, sweatshirts, sweaters, golf shirts and most pants should never, ever be dried. Never, ever, ever, never! They should be washed and hung up to dry.  Once they are dry, if they are wrinkled, a few minutes in a hot dryer will get the wrinkles out. Since they are already dry they won’t shrink down 3 sizes. Really, what’s so particular about that?

My wife has occasionally washed something of mine and then dried it, something that wasn’t supposed to be dried, and then it shrunk and didn’t fit anymore.  Because I love her so much I can usually get over it, they’re just clothes, right? But the other day she shrunk my favorite pants.

I don’t think I can forgive her this time.

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