Satan Is A Midget

Yeah, I know that the title of this post is not PC, but given that not even the ACLU would file suit on behalf of Lucifer I went ahead and used the offensive term anyway.

That brings us to the means in which I acquired knowledge of Beelzebub's diminutive nature.

The story goes something like this and does not involve a fiddle of gold.

My grandpa dies just a few days after my oldest son was born. Due to the fact that both my son and my grandpa were in the hospital dealing with heart issues they never had the chance to meet in person. (For more on that story click here to read the tale of my journey into fatherhood)


However, my mom has family vacation videos of bygone years in which my boys have been able to see and hear my grandpa, their great grandfather.

So out of the blue my 8yo asks the other day, "Mom, will I be able to talk to Grandpa Howery when I get to heaven?"

Jennifer answers that yes, he will get that chance.

T then points to the ground and asks, " But what if I go to the other place."

"Be good and you won't have to worry about that," She answered.

"What does the other place look lie anyway," he asks next.

At this point my 6 yo son, who had been listening quietly chimes in and says, "It's hot, dark, and there is lots of lava." Then holding his hand out about chest high on his own small body he said, "And there is a little dude with horns."

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Flag football is going strong, but sadly I cannot report a victory yet. Vince Lombardi I am not. Between two years of coaching (1 team last year 2 this season) my record as head coach is 1 win, thirteen losses. The lone victory came last year when one of the teams failed to show up.

But I am proud to say all, but one kid that played last year came back so I count the experience as a success. If the kids learn and want to keep playing I feel as if I am doing something right.

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Writing is going slow, but at least it is going again. I couldn't say that for most of the summer.

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After seventeen years at the post office working first nights and evening and then daytime hours, all with crappy days off, it looks as if I'll finally get a daytime job with weekends off starting at the end of October. That will be great for family activities and mean no more 12 hour days and four hour lunch breaks to coach football.

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My goal for next year is to make at least two writer's conferences. I really need to buckle down and do more to jump start my writing career. Once upon a time a had lots of personal
contacts among agents and editors but in recent times that number has dwindled. Far too many deaths, retirements and layoffs in the business for me to not be more proactive.

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I am starting a new project involving the kids at the Catholic school where my wife teaches and boys attend. I will be teaching basic writing to the kids as well as moderating discussion on novels already published in the young adult genre. I have already started a new blog to record these lessons and discussions so be sure and sign up to follow the things that go on there. I hope it will be a great place for both kids and adults and maybe you can engage your own children and take part via the internet. Sign on the follow that blog now so you'll be aware when I update the content. http://younglit.blogspot.com/

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So that's what is going on in my world. What's shaking in yours?



ps I hope to catch up soon and start visiting your blogs with more regularity.

I'll Take Cheese For $300 Alex

If you have read my blog for very long you already know I have some unique eating habits. Given that "lettuce is the Devil" my fast food orders require special handling. Whether it be a hamburger or a taco I make certain my meal is not tainted by any of the green leafy poison.

Having said that, it shouldn't come as a surprise to any of you that just as often as not my order gets screwed up. And I'm not proud of the fact, but I've thrown more than one hissy fit upon finding "The Devil" cuddling up with my meat. And yes, I have cursed the very profession of fast food worker as being the least intelligent group of humans on earth.

I'm blogging here today as a form of confession and to repent for the error of my ways. For I have been shown the light. Today, I witnessed a true lack of intelligence and it came from the other side of the counter.

There I was at Wienerschnitzel, waiting on my two corndogs when in walks three men. These men were well dressed and appeared normal in every way. The first stepped up to the counter and ordered without problem.

The second squinted up at at the menu board before asking of this gem of a question ... "Uh could you tell me, "What is the difference between the chili dog and the chili cheese dog?"

Without missing a beat, the wiener peddling employee answered, "That would be cheese, sir."

That's when I lost it. I didn't really mean to laugh but come on. Chili dog/ chili cheese dog. Is it really hard to cipher out the difference?

And the best part? After eavesdropping when the group of men sat to eat. I learned they were engineers for the railroad. Now I know a couple of engineers and I'm proud to say they are a heck of a lot sharper than chili dog boy, so in the future I'll do my best not to stereotype anyone based on their occupation.

Happy Friday

If you are a college football fan, be sure and visit Phat's blog where I am this week's guest picker. Stop by and see who I'm picking to win and why. And chime in with your own picks if you get the chance.

My double squad of flag boys and girls will also be in action this weekend with four games. The talent is there now we must see if the coaching can hold up.

In other news my good friend Deborah Elliott-Upton has a short story in the crime anthology The Gift Of Murder. The short story collection is an annual fundraiser for the Toys for Tots program so if you are reader purchasing a copy is a great way to help others and entertain yourself.



Copies may be ordered here.

Breathlessly Tolerant of Rum, Pigskin, and Dancing Men

I'm alive. Somewhat of a surprise after the way I felt Saturday morning. I know you have all heard of food poisoning, but apparently you can also get sick from drinking bad rum. A word of caution. The impurities of rum settle to the bottom of a bottle.

I discovered this fact too late. I was fine after the first nine or ten Sailor Jerry and Cokes, but somewhere between the last four or five I got poisoned by the dregs of the bottle.

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In other news I am coaching not one but two flag football teams. On one team I have a dozen eager, albeit slightly impatient first graders. The other team is stocked with 18 second and third graders. Double the practices has left me short on time and energy, but I excited about the upcoming season. Games start this Saturday.

My favorite moment thus far came from my own six year old son. After he yanked down the fourth or fifth runner in practice I tried to explain for the umpteenth time that we were playing flag football and not tackle was against the rules.

He calmly explained, "I was going for the flag, but it's easier to grab if you knock the other person down first."

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I was sad to hear about the passing of Patrick Swayze. My all time favorite Swayze movie was Red Dawn, a flick about a Russian invasion and occupation of America. Matter of fact my first ever stab at writing was a cheap knock off of that movie in which I rewrote the plot to star me and my buddies. Truthfully the only real differences were the names and the setting. I was probably about 12 and I'm sure it was horrible but I'd give a hundred bucks for a copy of the manuscript.

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I'm sick of hearing politicians and extremists sugarcoat their bigotry by using the word tolerant. Tolerant comes from the word tolerate. I tolerate things I do not like. Saying you are very tolerant of another's lifestyle or religion does not make you open-minded. It's simply a clever way to say I despise who and what you are, but I'm too much of a chicken shit to admit it. Saying you are very tolerant is no different than saying ...

I'm not a racist, I have lots of black friends.
I'm not homophobic, my little brother is gay.
I'm not anti-sematic, I'm even circumsized.

Here's the deal. If you have to come out and say you're not something -- chances are you is.

And yeah, I know the grammar in that last line is crap, but it doesn't stink half as bad as using the word tolerant to portray yourself as understanding, compassionate, or open minded.

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Another word that bugs me is breathless. Why do we use it when talking about something good?

He opened the jewelry box and the diamond inside left me breathless.
Her beauty rendered me breathless.
I was breathless as I witnessed the birth of my son.

All BS. Using the word breathless simply because you are too lazy to find the right adjective is wrong. The only time I've ever truly been breathless was when something bad happened to me.

The linebacker drove his helmet into me and rendered me breathless.
I was breathless after she kicked me in the shishkabobs.
I was too busy kissing his wife to defend the punch to my gut, but watching them walk away I was breathless.

Besides, we all need to breath to live. So how can anything that denies us breath and therefore our very existence be good?

Think I'll stick to overjoyed.

Here's a fine example ...


Reading Travis's blog leaves me overjoyed.

Cockamamie

I say ... I say ... I say I'm thoroughly ticked off. And no son, that is no joke.


Let me set the scene. There I was, roaming around the book and video section of Target while my wife was off looking at God knows what. I was trying to amuse myself, and ease the pain of being drug against my will out for an afternoon of shopping.


And then I spied this.



One look and I tossed that little collection into my basket. Now I could lie and tell y'all the same things I did my wife. I could say I purchased the Looney Tunes Spotlight Collection 2 because i thought my boys would like it. I could even speak the truth and say the cartoons are a lot better and less annoying than ever-so-popular yellow and porous square fellow, or that motley crew on Chowder, but I'm going to come clean and tell you why I bought that collection.

Me and Foghorn J. Leghorn go way back. He's my all-time favorite character and if you take a look at that DVD cover you'll see every one's favorite giant cock (that phrase ought to generate some interesting Google searches) right there in the lower right hand corner. Heck, the diminutive Henery the Chicken Hawk is right there above him.

Now it's been years since I've had the pleasure of Foghorn's company or heard a single southern fried ... I say Son.

Oh but the charm of that collection didn't end there. Another of my Saturday morning faves was the odorous and amorous, Pepé Le Pew.

And there is also a picture of Speedy Gonzales. I'd about assumed he'd been banned from the airwaves out of politic correctness for portraying racial stereotypes. Speedy isn't one of the greats, but I hadn't seen in a good long while so I was eager to hear a good "¡Ándale! ¡Ándale! ¡Arriba! ¡Arriba!".

Needless to say it was I who was excited to slip the DVD into the player.

But guess what. Not one damn Foghorn cartoon, or Pepé, or Speedy is to be found in the whole shootin' match of cartoons.

I say ... I say .... I say that is blatant false advertising and gives new meaning to the term cock tease.

Well I'm no tease, so here is dose of what those characters over at Warner Bros. screwed me out of.

Foghorn Leghorn - Little Boy Boo VO
by Alexander-Max

So tell me, Who is your all-time favorite cartoon character?