Public confessions of serious misdeeds.

I am publicly confessing of serious discretions, misdeeds and marital infidelity. This Christmas, I had a lurid love affair with a woman other than my wife. Mandy had her over for Christmas dinner. She was sort of round and squishy, but very sweet. She introduced herself as Marie Callendar. There was actually two of her. One in the form of a chocolate satin pie (Possible "Satan" misspelling?) and an apple pie.

Not sure if that little vixen sold her soul to get her frozen pies to taste like they were fresh made. I am pretty sure I am packing a few new ounces around in the midsection. Not sure how many years I took off my life. Not sure if I nudged up that point in my life when I clutch my chest in agony as my eyes glaze over and I mutter out my last words "Those damn pies!" Not sure, if even after all of that, I would do it any different.

I guess that would make me an impenitent transgressor. I stand only ashamed of the consequences of my actions not the actions themselves. I gotta go, I think there is still some leftover pie in the fridge.

As a side note Mandy just told me she wishes she had bought a pumpkin and a Berry pie also.

A word about discrimination

dis-crim-i-na-tion: treatment or consideration of, or making a distinction in favor of or against, a person or thing based on the group, class, or category to which that person or thing belongs rather than on individual merit: racial and religious intolerance and discrimination.

I have a somber message regarding a topic that has been troubling me for nigh on these some 33 years of my existence.

I have felt bullied, pressured, harassed, diminished and belittled by a ruthless dictatorship of individuals that control my life in the harshest of ways. You know who you are people! I am making a stand and calling like-minded people to join me in my cause for awareness! For a new day! A better tomorrow! Just not too early tomorrow...

I am referring to a group I Will call "MP" or Morning People. MP established such heinous, controlling mechanisms such as Morning news, 7:00 A.M. traffic jams, 8:00 A.M. store opening, 5:00 store closing, curfew, early morning exercises, Morning calls, sayings like "The early bird gets the worm!" "Early to bed, Early to rise, makes a man healthy, Wealth and Wise!" and the most hideous of all--DAYLIGHT SAVINGS!!!!

If we exam each one of these devices we can see that they are injected with privileged dominance and masked by a contorted tone of chipperness. Sort of like your German teacher Mrs. Falke. The one who greeted you with a fake smile that you thought for sure was going to crack her narrow, gaunt and otherwise stern face. The one who stared down at you through silver rimmed glasses with squinting eyes and pursed lips that were surrounded by a ring of cracked lines, making it look like a volcano threatening to spew out harsh criticisms at any moment. And she would roll her head around almost like she was continually cracking her neck or letting her brain swirl and marinate in the hate filled juices that surely sloshed around under her skull. Let us not forget how she continually paced in front of the classroom with a ruler in one hand that she wielded like a sword. Slapping her desk with when she was angry. Pointing and smacking the chalkboard when she wanted to emphasize a word. Words that when she repeated, sounded like a scream a black belt might emit as he inflicted a neck breaking kick to his victim's throat. You know, that kind of wry smile she would give as you walked in the class as she would say "Gud morning class! Velkom to my class! Very vell, ve shall begin!" with a smile that said "I have planned a very exciting set of tortures to inflict your minds with, I can hardly contain my excitement!"

By the way, Mrs. Falke, big time MP! Like upper eschelon MP!

I am not a coffee drinker, so I am forced to conform to MP standards unaided by any external stimulants. Coffee is no doubt a method derived of necessity for the general masses to conform to MP regulations. MP says I should be at work by 8:00, at my desk, well rested, perfectly groomed and chomping at the bit to begin my day. MP is. MP has already been awake for 3 or 4 hours. MP has already exercised, showered, eaten breakfast, read the paper, let the the dog out, done the crossword, vacuumed the house, mowed the lawn, washed the car, washed the dog, washed the house, watched the traffic report, drove to work, checked the email, and ran updates on their computer.

I however, have fallen out of bed, put something on in the dark. I hope I at least picked something out my closet this time and not Mandy's. Brushed my teeth because it tastes like I might have been sucking on a poopsicle all night. Get in my car, somehow get to work, even though I don't recall any details, like if I stopped for any stop signs that I know are on the way. I fall into my seat, hair disheveled, bloodshot eyes, vaguely aware of my surroundings. MP says to me "Gud morning! Velkom to vork! Very vell, ve shall begin!" through pursed lips and a wry smile.

MP has gone to great lengths to ensure the world conforms to its standards including changing the time twice a year so that MP has more daylight in the morning. This sadistic illustration demonstrates how far MP will go to control its environment while the rest of us are literally still asleep.

I have always felt this to be an unfortunate circumstance because it forces me to give my best efforts to my employer when I am at my worst.

Is there something that can be done? I believe so. As the day progresses I notice the MP begins to wither. MP's hair begins to unravel. MP's energy level declines. by about 1 o'clock in the afternoon MP and I are on equal grounds, I on my way up, MP making their way down. By about 7 or 8 o'clock there is a complete roll reversal. MP is only vaguely aware of their surrounding. MP is fumbling around for a toothbrush, because it tastes like MP has been sucking on a poopsicle. MP stumbles around in the dark and collapses onto a bed, hopefully their own this time. I am awake now. I have eaten dinner, read the paper, let the the dog out, done the crossword, vacuumed the house, mowed the lawn, washed the car, washed the dog, washed the house, watched the late show, checked the email, and ran updates on my computer. Mentally I am at the top of my game. Solutions to problems come to me, I am alert and aware and I understand most things. I am ready to start projects, do stuff, go places. MP has seen to it stores close, things are turned off and stuff is locked and boarded up for the night... so it can be open bright and early in the morning to accommodate MP.

What about NP? (Night person) NP is forced to try to go to bed at a reasonable bed time so that they can get up when MP says so. NP will most likely lay in bed for several hours thinking about how people ever existed without pillows, how did people cut their hair before scissors? How about before knives? How did people shave before razors? Did they shave before razors? What came first razors or shaving? When did shaving cream come into play? What did they originally use for shaving cream? If people had to cut their hair with sharpened rocks, did it hurt to get your hair cut? Did many people cut their hair back then? What did they do about allergies? Or, whatever my active mind decides to latch on to. I waste my most mentally active moments trying get to sleep. MP has none of these problems.

MP gets the whole world, and door buster sales. NP gets Denny's and Wal-Mart. I personally, am I little frightened by what I see at both locations during regular business hours, at 1 or 2 AM, The patrons of either location look like the wild contrivement of Tim Burton. I guess we have vampires too. I saw one eating a breakfast skillet at Denny's once. I think he was wearing a trench coat... and a Mickey mouse shirt.

NPs unite with me! While MPs are blissfully sleeping in bed we can reverse centuries old traditions! We can establish morning curfews, change business time to 10-6 or maybe even 11-7. convince the lumber stores and auto parts stores to be open until 1 AM... because seriously, there is nothing more annoying than realizing you just need an O-ring or a hinge to complete a project and realizing your store closed 15 minutes ago! And possibly the coup de grace, final elimination of daylight savings time! Join with me as we end the tyrannical death grip MPs hold on civilization! MPs might be the first to strike, but we will be the last ones standing! HUZZAH!!!!

Choose your own adventure Blog

I have put a new saga on the Choose your own adventure blog. Do your democratic blog duty and vote.

Yesterday Mandy had a Scentsy party in Lehi. I took the kids and kept them occupied by taking them to Cabela's to see the fish and the animal exhibits there. When we pulled in to the parking lot Walker says "Where are we?" I said "Cabela's" He grumbled and said "I thought Cabela's was some lady's house that just had some fish and stuff" I said "Um, nope. It's a store that has a huge aquarium in it" He said "I'm bored already..." He confessed as we were leaving that he had fun.

Going out to the car I observed some rugged looking outdoorsy type guys -- 4 of them emerge from the store notice the snow, wince in apparent pain, cover their necks up and run like little girls who had just tipped over a beehive, to their trucks.

Then I took Walker and Shelby to McDonald's so they could play in the play area. Several more observations took place there.

I first noticed the person working the counter who looked exactly a heavier set Napoleon Dynamite. He stood motionless behind the counter like the life size animatronic dolls at Chuck-E-Cheeses that fall limp at the end of the show, but suddenly spring into action when you put a token in the machine. He stood there, head hanging slightly down and to one side, mouth hanging open just staring motionlessly at me. As I continued to watch him, he would stand up taller and assist customers that came to his line. But on their departure, sagged and continued staring at me again. I looked over at one point and saw him lazily blowing a poinsettia leaf in an arrangement by him. When the leaf stopped wagging from his last poof, he would blow on it again.

After Walker and Shelby had finished eating they went and played. Meanwhile a family came in and one person, who I later surmised from eves dropping was the father of three children and was with his mom who the children called Grandma. Their father wore cowboy boots, tight wranglers, a grey Mickey Mouse shirt and had a blue bandanna wrapped around his head, worn low over his eyes so he had to tilt his head back to see. He stayed focused on his sandwich, until he paused turned around in his seat to face the play area and then he would bark out "YOU KIDS NEED TO STOP SCREAMING!!!!!!! DALTON! QUITE SCREAMING!!!!" Not sure where they learned to communicate loudly to each other.

The yelling didn't seem to distract Napoleon or spur him into any sort of alternate action. The yelling did have a pretty immediate action on the parents of the other children who were playing there. They all stood up, started putting on coats and began collecting their children for prompt departures.

Which brought me to my final observation or point of pondering. Is it, or when is it acceptable for someone over the age of 12 to wear Micky Mouse clothes? To be honest, I had never really paid much attention, but I couldn't think of an occasion where I thought an adult wearing Micky Mouse, Minnie Mouse, Donald Duck or Pooh Bear type clothes looked notably good. (Certainly not with Wranglers and a bandanna.) However, I also realize that as a parent your fashion sense instantly dissolves. Some parents do well watching others and sort of mimicking what they are doing. Some revert back to whatever it was that was cool when they graduated from high school, and others like me just wear whatever passes the sniff test off of the floor.

I have embraced my fashion ineptitude and maybe this person's sniff test indicated that Mickey mouse, Wranglers and a bandanna, to keep the ears warm was what was on today's menu. Uniform wearing individuals like Napoleon don't have to worry about trivialities like this, which free up some spare time for doing stuff like staring or dusting the leaves of poinsettias with your breath.

SNOWWWWW!!!!!

It finally snowed! Old man winter took his chance when I was out of town. In Lehi and Ogden where I was all day, there was just a sciff of snow. I assumed no snow had even stuck to the driveway, so we took our time getting home. It was not until I pulled off the highway into Nibley did I see a lot of snow. "Grrr!" I grumbled when we pulled into our driveway. "It looks like everyone had already dug their driveways out!" I went all the way around the block and only found two other driveways to do besides my own.

Chuck operates like an autonomous death machine. Stubbornly relenting in a single-minded direction, until otherwise directed. the auger on the front makes a rhythmic pounding sound like the hammers of Thor. on the second swath down my driveway I twisted the handle bars of chuck pointing him in a new direction, as I stepped around to position myself behind him, my foot slipped and I found myself being drug down the driveway knowing that if I let go he would continue on unguided and unmercilessly. If I kept hanging on, I wouldn't be able to get my feet under me to stand up. Luckily there is a handle, when squeezed, takes chuck out of gear. Finally I gathered enough wits to remember how to squeeze the handle and I was able to regain my composure.

The only disappointing thing, from a previous owner using it without skids the scoop on the back is worn down. There is now a 1/4'' gap between the ground and the scoop that lets snow pass under. I wasn't able to get a perfectly removed cleaning. I either have to have a piece of metal welded on or figure out a way to keep it working good. I wonder if I could put a strip of ruber on there, like a strip from a used tire? I will have to think about this.

What did you say?

We have a little Christmas decoration that is a mouse holding some colored lights and is wearing a Santa hat. when you press his foot he dances back and forth and sings a verse from "Let it snow" It has always been Walker's favorite decoration. When he was little he would carry it around and play it over and over and over. Sunday he made it sing and started to sing/mumbled along. when it got to the part where it sang "And since there's no place to go..." Walker mumbled something completely different. I said "Walker, what did you say?" He looked at me with a perplexed look and softly repeated "Mexican mrfffnfnfm" I said "what?" He mumbled, "Mexicans we don't know?" I said "Is that what you think he is saying, Mexicans we don't know?" He didn't say anything he just shook his head yes. I liked that better than the real words, so now I sing "Mexicans we don't know! Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"

Tonight I put a movie on for Shelby as I made dinner. Before the movie started, they had trailer for a kids movie. A sing along kids movie. They showed a portion of one of the songs. It had some kids and puppets singing "If you're happy and you know it" Except I swear they were singing "If your heavy and you know it..." And all of the kids they showed singing were fairly chunky. I am still not sure if they were not saying "heavy" Poor fat kids!

Which brings me to a lifelong gripe I have had. Singers who either don't sing, just talk (William Shatner is the only one who can pull that off) or just mumble their words. Most of them get thousands, millions, trillions, zillions of dollars to do what? Sing words! That's it! You are just being lazy. (Click here) I guess I am just jealous because I want to put a half hearted effort into something and get rich. I have always wondered about Shaq for this reason. He gets millions to play basketball. He's big and tall and sweaty. No one wants to try to get under the basket when he is there for those three reasons. They take no effort on his part. He is big and tall and sweaty by default. Ask him to complete a shot beyond his reach and he is hopeless. Can't make a free throw if his big, tall, sweaty butt depended on it. I would like to think that if I were paid obscene amounts of cash to make a ball go into a hoop, I would spend all day perfecting all of the different ways I could make that ball go through the hoop. The other thing about Shaq though is that his eyes are always at half mast, like he is so lazy that he couldn't even be bothered to wake up. My favorite Shaq experience (I don't watch much basketball so my stories are limited) was after a game a reporter asked Shaq what was the key factor in their victory. Shaq said "We simply out played them. Period! P-E-R- Uh, um whatever!" Great job there Shaq! It's a good thing that whole basketball thing worked out for you. An awfully good thing. (Click here)

New blog?!?!

Remember the "Choose your own adventure" Books you read as a child? Well now we have a choose your own adventure blog. Yippee! Let's find out what happens! Click here!

Already Tired

Ever have a day where you are tired all day? That is me today. There is no repreve tomorrow either. I need to be up at 4 to catch a flight to St. George for meetings all day tomorrow that will carry on until about midnight tomorrow. Well, not so much meetings as parties. In the evening we are having an ugly sweater Christmas party and then we are going to go see Quantum of Solace. Let's just hope the movie is better than the name. Speaking of sleep and dreams here is an exerpt from an email I got from a friend of mine:

"I had a dream last night that you were being appointed to fill a vacancy on the Nibley City Council. So, channel 2 is there interviewing you, and they ask the question: “Mr. Ungerman, with no experience in public service, exactly what are the qualifications you bring to this office?” You responded: “Well, as you know, I am rather good looking.” That’s all of the dream that I remember."

Handsomeness has sure worked well for Mitt Romney and Governer Huntsman. Too bad I am not that good looking.

Thought I would give this little report while I am waiting for a load of clothes to finish in the dryer so I can pack.