Jeff Kay's Blog, page 36

Have You Ever Lost, Sold, Or Gave Something Away That You Still Regret?

Many years ago, when we were still in Atlanta, Toney and I drove WAY out to the suburbs one Saturday afternoon to attend an open house at a new subdivision that was being built. I don’t know what brought this on, because we had never even entertained the notion of buying a house, or (gasp!) moving outside the Perimeter.

We weren’t married at the time, but I believe a date had been set. We were living in an apartment in the Little Five Points area of the city, which was noisy and bohemian and questionable at best. But, I don’t think we’d discussed moving. So, the whole thing feels somewhat bizarre to me now. Perhaps Toney had thoughts going on inside her head that I didn’t know about?

In any case, we drove out there, and it seemed to take forever. I wasn’t even sure we were still in Georgia, and thought it might be a good idea to stop and have our tires rotated before heading back.

And you can probably guess what happened… We got hooked up with a nice saleslady who was pushing hard for us to buy a place inside the new development. She drove us around on a golf cart and showed us the pool and the clubhouse and the tennis courts. It was very impressive, a beautiful place, and it didn’t take long before we were having insane thoughts.

It was a million miles (give or take) from where we both worked, and made absolutely no sense. However, the woman could smell blood in the water. She wanted us to consider having a house built there, but the price of such a thing was out of the question. Plus, it didn’t seem possible. Me? Having a house built?? Ha! That’s for adult people, folks who have their shit together and know how to have conversations and wear grown-up clothes and whatnot. It certainly wasn’t for me.

“No problem,” our new friend shouted, “I’ll just show you some re-sales!”

And that touched off a series of events that led us to the saleslady’s kitchen, eating lasagna, and making an offer on one of the houses. It was craziness! What the hell were we doing?! It felt like I didn’t have any control over my actions. I was having an out-of-body experience, watching us sign papers and shaking my head in disbelief. I think that woman was some kind of hypnotist, or maybe she put something in the pasta she served us? We both walked out of there, muttering, “WHAT? THE? FUCK?”

Here’s the house that sucked us in, as it appears today at Google Maps:

Oh, we loved that place. It was two years old, aka better than new, and just a fantastic home. However… we couldn’t get financing without a down payment. You know, on account of the fact that neither of us were making any money to speak of.

So, I sold some of my baseball cards. It was something I said I’d never do, and the whole thing still gives me a case of the loose stools. I didn’t sell them all, but liquidated many of the prized jewels in my sports collector’s crown.

And while it was going on, I was a basket case, pacing around and running my hands through my hair. I bought an ad in the newspaper, saying I had baseball cards to sell, and there was an avalanche of response. I was meeting people inside restaurants and cutting deals, each of which ripped another hunk of my heart out of my chest. It was awful.

I remember sitting in a booth at Shoney’s, across from a husband/wife wheeler-dealer team. They were professionals, and had all sorts of notebooks and calculators with them. They were trying to lowball me on some stuff, and I became furious. I didn’t even want to do this, and certainly wasn’t going to get bent over a couch on top of it all. I told them the deal was off, stood up wearing a mask of fury, and left the place before I started throwing haymakers. Interestingly enough, they followed me to the parking lot and ended up paying a decent price for some things.

I raised $10,000, and stopped. It was enough to get us into the house, and we lived there for four years. Toney still says it’s the best place we ever had. I don’t know about that, but it was certainly nice. And when we sold it we made a decent profit, which we rolled into the house in California, and eventually into our current place.

So, the sale of my beloved baseball cards has paid enormous dividends through the years. I can’t say it was a mistake, by any stretch of the imagination. But man… it still bugs me. Ya know? I don’t even want to tell you what I sold, because it makes me too sad. Aaaargh!!

What about you? Have you sold something you still regret on some level? Or maybe it’s something you gave away, or lost somehow? If so, please tell us about it in the comments.

And thank you guys for reading!

Have yourselves a great weekend.

Support us by doing your shopping at Amazon! In Canada? Here’s your link. Thank you guys!

I’m Sleeping More Than Ever And Can’t Stay Awake! Please Help Me Escape This Hell

Can somebody please explain this to me? If I sleep from 2 am to 10 am, eight hours, I wake up swinging for the fences, feeling great. But if I sleep from midnight to 8 am, also eight hours, I’m dragging massive ass all day and trying to stop myself from building a chin-to-desk drool bridge at work. Why? What in the honey roasted hell is going on here?

It’s the up-early thing that gets me. If I climb off the platform during or before Good Morning, America, I’m screwed. And it has nothing to do with George Stephanopoulos, that sawed-off little puke. It’s just the time of day, for some reason.

Years ago, when I was a tan and rugged young toll collector, I worked rotating shifts: one week each of days, evenings, and overnights with two days off in-between. And I don’t remember it being a big deal. I could switch it up, slice ‘n’ dice, and collect those quarters like a champion. But today the tiniest alteration of the schedule destroys me. Even if I have to go to work one hour early, I feel it. It’s as if my IQ has been reduced by 20 points, and I have trouble pulling up the right words, etc. If I had to work a rotating schedule at this point of my life, I’d undoubtedly go full-Slingblade and start living on nothing but potted meat.

But, I’m doing it. So far I’ve stuck to my plan of sleeping from midnight to 8 am, and being in front of my computer from 9 am to 1 pm, trying to wring as much production out of each day as possible. I know it’s only January 5, but it’s one day at a time, goddammit. Today I posted at Suggestaholic for the first time since October, updated the Bunker Cam and Further Evidence links, changed my Goodreads status, and wrote this questionable-at-best Surf Report update. This shit wouldn’t have happened in December, my friends. Of that, I’m certain.

It’s still a struggle, though. Yesterday was close to a bust; I worked on the new book, but it was like trying to squeeze the last bit of toothpaste out of a spent tube. Today is the best day so far, but still not great. I’m assuming it’ll get better? Things will eventually normalize for your corpulent correspondent? How long? What’s the gestation period for something like this? Help me out, won’t you?

Also, how many hours of sleep do you require, before you hit a state of diminishing returns? I think I need seven, but wasn’t always getting it. I still think it’s a ripoff that we need to sleep at all, but whatever. And… what have you done to get a BETTER night’s sleep? Maybe a mattress manufactured after the Clinton Administration? Do you think that would help?

I need to call it a day, my friends.

As a very annoying person used to say to me all the time, see ya on the flip!

Support us by doing your shopping at Amazon! In Canada? Here’s your link. Thank you guys!

A Few Quick Things, And Plans For Even More Things!

Happy new year, I guess. Whatever. Right now, I’m not feeling it. But I hope it’s going well for you. I really do.

I’m writing this on my laptop at our dining room table drinking coffee that’s too strong because we had to rush out and buy a new coffee maker since the old one shit the bed and we just can’t seem to get the calibration right. And how’s that for a quality run-on sentence? Yesterday’s first pot tasted like tap water, and the second pot was somewhat better. Today I tinkered with it some more, and over-corrected. I feel like there’s something going on inside my lower intestines that could very well end in tears and property damage.

Lemmy died a few days ago, and now everybody is pretending to be a huge Motorhead fan, practically incapacitated by the news. Or, at least they were. It’s probably a little too late, at this point, to turn it into a proper “look at me” event. So, a few have moved on to Natalie Cole. Ha! People are so full of crap. It’s unbelievable. Every time I open Facebook I end up muttering, “Oh, blow me,” and click out in disgust. So much phoniness… Holden Caulfield was right. No wonder he ended up in the wacky shack.

I watched all ten episodes of Making a Murderer on Netflix last week. I did it two episodes at a time over five days, and it wasn’t what I was expecting. I figured it would be a twisty-turny murder mystery, but it was actually the story of a man — likely innocent — caught up in a nightmare scenario for the second time. It’s scary, because it feels like it could happen to any of us. It was ultimately depressing, except for one thing: I thank the Lord I don’t have an accent like those people. Wow! How does something like that happen?

Toney and I are also ripping through House of Cards. I had my doubts at the beginning, because it felt like a soap opera. But I’m now fully-invested. We’ve seen the first two episodes of Season 2, and will continue with it tonight. What other Netflix Originals would you suggest? I watched the first season of Orange Is The New Black. Should I go back to it? Or is it nothing but unsightly butch women having sex with each other? What else is good?

I downloaded this album a week or so ago, and am fairly obsessed with it. It’s been on perma-play in the bunker for days. Here’s a song from it, for your sampling pleasure:

I almost ran over a dog a few nights ago, while on a beer-run. It was a Jack Russell pup, and it shot out between two parks cars — directly in front of me — and came oh-so-close to going to that big leash-free area in the sky. I slammed on my brakes, and the little bastard continued running and running and running. And within seconds there were roughly twenty people surrounding my car, thanking me and trying to wrangle the beast. I couldn’t move, because the dog was running serpentine through the neighborhood, with a gang of 14 year old boys chasing it and hollering, “RUBY!!” It was pandemonium. The beer was good, though. I got a six pack of this. Needless to say, I dedicated the first one to Ruby, who is probably dead by now.

Finally, I’m generally against such things, but I’ve made a New Year’s resolution, of sorts. Not really, but close. Here it is:

No alcohol until the first draft of the new novel is completed. This started on January 1, and I hope to have the first-pass done within six months. At that point, if I haven’t long ago said fukkit, I’ll assess the situation.

Also, I’m going to establish a production schedule, and try to stick to it. And that will all hinge on another life-hack: in bed by midnight, up by 8. Seven days per week. If I’m up at 8 am, I should be able to write from 9 am to 1 pm on workdays. That’s a big chunk o’ time that I’m currently pissing away.

So, you see, it all ties together… No alcohol, so I don’t stay up too late. Plus, it’ll theoretically keep my mind a little clearer, and maybe translate into a higher-quality dick joke. The production schedule will be written on Sunday for the upcoming week, and can only be accomplished if I follow the up-by-8 regimen.

What do you think? Two weeks, tops? Maybe one? No way. I’m sticking to it. I’m getting old, and have shit to do. If I don’t “go pro” with it, it’ll all slip away. And that scares me, it really does.

Any resolutions for you this year? Tell us about it, if you’re so inclined. I know they’re silly, but I’m going to try to make a couple of small tweaks and squeeze some extra work out every week. Stay tuned.

I’ll see you guys again soon. I’m not sure when, but it’ll be in tomorrow’s production schedule.

Have a great day, my friends!

Support us by doing your shopping at Amazon! In Canada? Here’s your link. Thank you guys!

A Few Quick Things, And My Plans For Even More Things!

Happy new year, I guess. Whatever. Right now, I’m not feeling it. But I hope it’s going well for you. I really do.

I’m writing this on my laptop at our dining room table drinking coffee that’s too strong because we had to rush out and buy a new coffee maker since the old one shit the bed and we just can’t seem to get the calibration right. And how’s that for a quality run-on sentence? Yesterday’s first pot tasted like tap water, and the second pot was somewhat better. Today I tinkered with it some more, and over-corrected. I feel like there’s something going on inside my lower intestines that could very well end in tears and property damage.

Lemmy died a few days ago, and now everybody is pretending to be a huge Motorhead fan, practically incapacitated by the news. Or, at least they were. It’s probably a little too late, at this point, to turn it into a proper “look at me” event. So, a few have moved on to Natalie Cole. Ha! People are so full of crap. It’s unbelievable. Every time I open Facebook I end up muttering, “Oh, blow me,” and click out in disgust. So much phoniness… Holden Caulfield was right. No wonder he ended up in the wacky shack.

I watched all ten episodes of Making a Murderer on Netflix last week. I did it two episodes at a time over five days, and it wasn’t what I was expecting. I figured it would be a twisty-turny murder mystery, but it was actually the story of a man — likely innocent — caught up in a nightmare scenario for the second time. It’s scary, because it feels like it could happen to any of us. It was ultimately depressing, except for one thing: I thank the Lord I don’t have an accent like those people. Wow! How does something like that happen?

Toney and I are also ripping through House of Cards. I had my doubts at the beginning, because it felt like a soap opera. But I’m now fully-invested. We’ve seen the first two episodes of Season 2, and will continue with it tonight. What other Netflix Originals would you suggest? I watched the first season of Orange Is The New Black. Should I go back to it? Or is it nothing but unsightly butch women having sex with each other? What else is good?

I downloaded this album a week or so ago, and am fairly obsessed with it. It’s been on perma-play in the bunker for days. Here’s a song from it, for your sampling pleasure:

I almost ran over a dog a few nights ago, while on a beer-run. It was a Jack Russell pup, and it shot out between two parks cars — directly in front of me — and came oh-so-close to going to that big leash-free area in the sky. I slammed on my brakes, and the little bastard continued running and running and running. And within seconds there were roughly twenty people surrounding my car, thanking me and trying to wrangle the little beast. I couldn’t move, because the dog was running serpentine through the neighborhood, with a gang of 14 year old boys chasing it and hollering, “RUBY!!” It was pandemonium. The beer was good, though. I got a six pack of this. Needless to say, I dedicated the first one to Ruby, who is probably dead by now.

Finally, I’m generally against such things, but I’ve made a New Year’s resolution, of sorts. Not really, but close. Here it is:

No alcohol until the first draft of the new novel is completed. This started on January 1, and I hope to have the first-pass done within six months. At that point, if I haven’t long ago said fukkit, I’ll assess the situation.

Also, I’m going to establish a production schedule, and try to stick to it. And that will all hinge on another life-hack: in bed by midnight, up by 8. Seven days per week. If I’m up at 8 am, I should be able to write from 9 am to 1 pm on workdays. That’s a big chunk o’ time that I’m currently pissing away.

So, you see, it all ties together… No alcohol, so I don’t stay up too late. Plus, it’ll theoretically keep my mind a little clearer, and maybe translate into a higher-quality dick joke. The production schedule will be written on Sunday for the upcoming week, and can only be accomplished if I follow the up-by-8 regimen.

What do you think? Two weeks, tops? Maybe one? No way. I’m sticking to it. I’m getting old, and have shit to do. If I don’t “go pro” with it, it’ll all slip away. And that scares me, it really does.

Any resolutions for you this year? Tell us about it, if you’re so inclined. I know they’re silly, but I’m going to try to make a couple of small tweaks and squeeze some extra work out every week. Stay tuned.

I’ll see you guys again soon. I’m not sure when, but it’ll be in tomorrow’s production schedule.

Have a great day, my friends!

Support us by doing your shopping at Amazon! In Canada? Here’s your link. Thank you guys!

High Weirdness On The Subway! Volume 1

Support us by doing your shopping at Amazon! In Canada? Here’s your link. Thank you guys!

We Canceled Our Trip And Repurposed The Money That Would Have Been Spent

We didn’t go to Atlantic City. We canceled at the last minute, for various reasons. High on the list: our kids apparently can’t be in the same room for more than 30 minutes without arguing. In fact, a few nights ago it escalated to a near fistfight. Yes, the jackassery is strong with those two at the moment. Leaving them alone for a couple of days probably wouldn’t have been among our wiser decisions.

Also, we started thinking about the money we’d spend on that little adventure, and decided to buy a new TV for the living room instead. The Gordon Ramsay dinner alone probably would have cost more than what we ended up paying for something we’ll likely use for many years. I would’ve already ejected that expensive dinner into the plumbing system by now. Heck, if I’d ordered bangers ‘n’ mash, like I planned, it probably would have even looked roughly the same coming out as it did going in.

So, on Saturday we waded into the sea of humanity in search of a good deal on a 40-inch TV. We started at Target. In last Sunday’s newspaper ad they had a really good deal listed. However… nearly a week had gone by, and I knew they were likely sold out. And they were. We even drove down to the Wilkes-Barre location, to see if they had it there. No dice. Their website, by the way, said something like “low stock” at both stores. It didn’t say “sold out,” it was something more ambiguous, and designed to make a person want to give it a shot. But, “sold out” would’ve been more accurate.

There was a lot of trashiness going on in Wilkes-Barre: ripped windbreakers with the Pizza Hut logo on the back, gray sweat pants with dress shoes, etc. So, we returned to the Scranton area, where things are at least 10% more civilized. We had lunch at Chipotle, hoping not to ingest any of the Mexican shit water they apparently use on their produce, and plotted our strategy. The roads and stores were so crowded, we were right on the cusp of saying fukkit. But if that were to happen… there’s a very good chance the new TV would not happen at all. Oh, I know how these things go. So, I pushed for continuing the quest.

And we hit the jackpot at our next stop: Best Buy. We got a 40-inch Samsung, for a very good price. I think it’s this one, and we paid slightly less. Nice.

It was exciting! We still had an old tube TV in the living room, that couldn’t connect to the WiFi or anything. We would be entering a whole new world upstairs. Of course the Big Ass TV in the family room is loaded up with all the bells and whistles, but Toney and I spend most of our lounging time upstairs. Now we could make use of Netflix and Amazon Prime on “our” TV too.

We stopped and bought 12 bottles of this fantastic beverage, and all that was left to do was go home and set up our new gateway to happiness. However… this is where things often take a dark turn. Setting up electronics is not my strong point, and I have a low tolerance for “issues.” Know what I mean? Oh, everything could easily go south during the set-up process.

But it was flawless. We had that baby running wide-open, fully-configured, within minutes. We successfully incorporated the cable box and Blu-ray player with no issues, whatsoever. It was a Christmas miracle!

One small bump in the road: there was no Amazon Prime icon. But I was reading online about how to add it, grinding my molars a bit, when a software update began to download. And when it was finished, there was Amazon! It was crazy. As if the gods of electronics were watching over us…

And now we’re thinking about taking it up a notch and subscribing to Hulu. Are we overplaying our hand? Are we allowing the new-TV frenzy to turn us greedy? Hey, they have all six seasons of Green Acres on there, which is about all I need to be sold on it. And I think they might have other things, as well. Not sure. I only checked Green Acres.

My goal: To become one of those assholes who bitch about being overly busy all the time, then proceed to tell you about the 12 TV shows they watch religiously, and all the movies they saw over the weekend. I don’t want to get cocky, but I think I can do it. Always reach for the stars, my friends!

How’s your holiday prep coming along? We (Toney) are pretty much finished. I have to buy a couple of small things, but it feels like we’re way ahead of the game this year. I’m not sure how we (Toney) pulled it off, but I’ll take it.

See you guys again soon.

Have a great day!

Support us by doing your holiday shopping at Amazon! If you’re in Canada, here’s your link. Thank you guys!

We’re Heading To Atlantic City, And Don’t Like To Gamble! Will It Be A Good Time?

It seems improbable and somewhat bizarre, but Toney and I are apparently going to Atlantic City in a few days. It’s something we booked during the summer. And we don’t “book” things. I mean, seriously. What are we, the Vanderbilts?

I can’t even remember how this plan came together. Toney likes the ocean during cold weather months, and so do I. So, we were probably talking about that over a few craft beers one Saturday night, and before we knew it… we were booking shit, all willy-nilly.

But it’ll be fun. I’m looking forward to it. We’re staying at a nice place, for not all that much money, and have dinner reservations at Gordon Ramsay Pub & Grill. Here’s the menu. What would you go with? I haven’t decided yet. However… the lobster mac ‘n’ cheese is a definite as an appetizer. That sounds goddamn delicious.

And the next day I want to have lunch at the original White House Subs. I saw it featured on The Sandwich Channel (or whatever) years ago, and it’s stuck in my brain. If you have any thoughts on that place, I’m all ears.

So yeah, the whole thing is based on food and drink, as usual. But the hotel should be decorated for Christmas, and I think it’ll be a good time. I have no interest in gambling, but do have a vested interest in food and drink. It’s how I’ve been able to maintain my powerful upper-body.

I don’t believe I’ve ever been to Atlantic City. I have a vague notion that it’s a little on the seedy side. Am I wrong? Will we be standing on our patio, arm in arm, as the medical waste and adult diapers wash ashore at sunset? Will we be accosted by bombastic assholes wearing wife-beaters and mirrored sunglasses? Or am I being unfair? I’ll have a full report upon our return, needless to say.

Speaking of gambling… What’s your relationship with that particular activity? I don’t care for it. It stresses me out, and I get no pleasure from it, whatsoever. It’s a vice that doesn’t register with me. My wiring doesn’t leave me susceptible to it, and I don’t really understand how other people get so carried away with it.

When I worked in California we had a lot of meetings in Vegas, and always stayed at Treasure Island. And some of my co-workers would stay up all night, literally wouldn’t sleep at all, playing cards and losing thousands of dollars. How?! Credit cards? I knew approximately how much those assholes were making, and could never understand how they weathered such a thing. If I lost $2500 via one evening of asshattery, I’d torment myself into a stay at a psychiatric hospital. And there’s a very good chance I’d lose my car.

Another time we were in Chicago, and they sent us sailing out into the Mississippi on a gambling boat. Always with the gambling! I didn’t want to go, but had no choice. Before we climbed aboard that flotilla of sadness, however, I allotted myself $40 for gambling. I wouldn’t spend a dollar more, I promised myself. And even that was heartbreaking.

Yeah, my forty bucks was gone before they’d even taken the ropes off the boat. We were still tethered to the dock, and I was done. So, I got to sit there the rest of the night watching people from my office blow enormous amounts of cash on really stupid shit. It was too cold to go outside, so I just sat on a stool watching folks who couldn’t afford it gamble their money away. What a magical evening!

Do you like to gamble and wager and “play the ponies,” etc.? Do you have any related tales to tell? I know a guy who went to jail because of gambling-related shenanigans. He was an old co-worker who was always trying to talk me into accompanying him on one of his maniac Vegas trips. “Everything’s comped!” he assured me. “Don’t be such a pussy. It’ll be a blast!”

Needless to say I never went with him, and he eventually got himself into some kind of situation that resulted in a brief jail stay, the loss of his job, and the end of his marriage. I probably still have his mug shot saved on my computer somewhere. He didn’t look like he was having a blast in that photo, that’s for sure.

Please share your gambling stories in the comments. Also, if you have any thoughts on our quickie Atlantic City trip… lay ’em on me!

Thanks for reading this. Please don’t forget about our Amazon links, while doing your holiday shopping this year. I’ll put a big ‘un right underneath this update, so there’s no confusion on how to find one.

I’ll see you guys again soon. Maybe before A.C., but probably after.

Have a great week!

Support us by doing your holiday shopping at Amazon! If you’re in Canada, here’s your link. Thank you guys!

A Few Quick Things, vol. 864

My new phone is starting to freak me out a little. Last week it began showing me notifications around the time I leave for work that said things like, “Your drive to work today will take 39 minutes. Normal traffic.”

It’s useful information, and I’m glad to have it. However… I didn’t set it up. The phone is just doing it on its own. Weird, huh? How does it know where I work? How does it know when I leave the house? It’s mildly disturbing.

Yesterday I was off, and was expecting it to know that, as well. I was braced for an “enjoy your day off” message. But it dispensed the traffic info around 1:30, as normal. Give it a few more weeks, though. Oh, it’ll learn. It’s amassing information about me, even as I type. Right now it’s listening, and analyzing, and forming opinions…

Like I say, it’s starting to freak me out a little.

I broke ground on a new novel yesterday. It’s about a couple of dumbass guys, roughly my height, age, and weight, on an ill-conceived road trip. The last project I attempted was a bit too ambitious, and I abandoned it. Temporarily, anyway. This one is a lot simpler, and is designed for pure entertainment. I’m already having a good time writing it. I have a lot of notes, and a kinda-sorta outline. Plus, I know the ending, which is a step up from the Crossroads Road experience.

I’m using a program called Scrivener for the first time. It’s popular among writers, and I probably bought it two years ago. But there’s a steep learning curve, and who has time for such things? I kept putting it off, and just using Microsoft Word.

But I watched a half-dozen YouTube tutorials, and learned enough to get me started. So far, I’m loving it. I won’t bore you with the details, but, among other things, it allows you to turn a gigantic undertaking into a bunch of bite-sized projects. I plan to complete one of those small projects per week, and have the first draft done in 20 weeks. Stay tuned. And I’ll try not to talk about it too much here.

One more thing, though… In the first paragraph, which I wrote yesterday, there’s a line that popped into my head that was so perfect I think I actually pumped my fist in the air. I think it might be one of my best lines ever. And, appropriately enough, it’s about ass cracks. Oh, this is going to be high literature!

Speaking of highbrow, my friend Tim sent me this email a couple of days ago about some of our high school ridiculousness:

Somebody was talking about school lockers today. It reminded me about how you could open any locker in the high school, and we’d roam the halls at lunch time, and you’d just open a random locker for the heck of it and leave it open.

Remember that one locker near the library that always had a Playgirl centerfold hanging in it? You’d open that thing wide open, and we’d go hide in the library and listen as some innocent girl would be sashaying down the hall, and let out a blood curdling scream as she came eye to eye with some guy wearing a hard hat and his giant schlong hanging out.

Heh. Good times. I think I could still walk into that school today and open any locker, within one minute. Unless they’ve upgraded them during the past 35 years… And who are we fooling? Of course they haven’t. They’re still the same lockers my parents used when THEY went there, back when Eisenhower was president. I’d like to think the poster of Johnny Ampleseed is still there, though. But that would also be a long-shot, pardon the pun.

For a Question, I’d like to know if you have any school locker stories. It’s a weak question, I recognize that… But it’s all I got and need to hit the highway. My phone tells me it’ll be smooth sailing, but I still need to go. So, use the comments link to tell us your tales of school locker shenanigans.

And don’t forget about our Amazon links! Just pass through ‘em, and buy a car or whatever. Does Amazon sell cars? Well, anyway. You get the idea.

Have a great weekend, my friends.

I’ll see you again soon.

Support us by doing your holiday shopping at Amazon! If you’re in Canada, here’s your link. Thank you guys!

No Sleep For You! And Where Would You Go If You Were Given The Opportunity To Travel Through Time?

Last night Toney and I were watching TV, and I was struggling to maintain consciousness. I was dipping in and out of dormancy, and probably looked like Gomer Pyle in a gas leak. Finally, around 10:30 I said fukkit, went upstairs and climbed into bed.

And I was wide awake. Again. Why does this happen so often?? I was making myself miserable, fighting sleep for an hour or two, and now that I’d surrendered to it… nope. No sleep for you!

I grabbed my Kindle, and returned to the living room. Just 100% wide awake, like it was freaking noon on a Wednesday. Around 2:30 am I returned to bed, and this time it took. However… Toney starts working at 9 am, taking calls from her crazy NORAD-caliber bedroom control center, and I was awake again.

It’s bullshit. I walk around in a haze most of the time, because I don’t get enough sleep. Yet, I can’t sleep when I try to. What the hell?? Is this some kind of old man crap? It started with the weird ear lobe hair, and the long wiry balloon-poppers that erupt from my eyebrows and have to be tamed by a professional in a salon setting.

Now it’s this sleeping stuff. It’s something I never had a problem with, until the last few years. I could always sleep in the back of a dump truck traveling down Interstate 81, if necessary. And now I’m wallowing and thrashing and sighing… I feel like my calibration is way off. Maybe I need some of those questionable “supplements” they advertise during George Noory?

Toney has always had a problem sleeping. I joke that a neighbor, two or three doors down the block, could fart in their kitchen and she would sit bolt upright in bed and say, “What was that?!” She is, without a doubt, the lightest sleeper I’ve ever encountered. Andy (Ol’ Smeller) can smack his lips out in the hallway and wake her from the deepest REM sleep. It’s ludicrous.

But now she’s getting to say, “See? See what I’ve been dealing with for all these years?” I don’t care for it.

The only good thing? I’m reading a really good book, and got to spend several hours with it last night. This one, to be exact. It’s about a group of friends who are electrocuted during a thunderstorm in 2009, and wake up in late 1985.

It’s wacked-out and a complete blast to read. It’s not literature, but it’s well-written and built for fun. Highly recommended, especially if you like time travel stories. And it’s free for Kindle. Craziness. I’m enjoying it as much as I did Stephen King’s time travel book, which is another great one.

I’ve asked this question before, but I’ll ask it again. If you could travel through time, where would you like to go? Where and when? For whatever reason, I’d like to go to my hometown of Dunbar, WV during the late 1940s. The war is over… there’s optimism in the air… there’s no television yet… I’d love to just walk the streets, have lunch in a diner, and maybe drink a beer or six with my freakishly young grandfather at Ross’s Poolroom, or whatever. When I daydream about time travel, I always daydream about that particular scenario. Not the Gettysburg Address, but blending in for a few weeks in 1947 Dunbar… Weird, huh?

What about you? Where and when would you go? Please tell us about it in the comments. Also, how are you doing in the sleep department? Do you think my problems are because I’m getting really goddamn old? Let me know your thoughts, if you have any.

And I need to call it a day here. Please remember to use our Amazon links while doing your Christmas shopping, or personal shopping, or whatever. I made the mistake of checking this year’s numbers versus last year’s from the same period… We’re way off, my friends. Please try to remember to use the Surf Report links. It’ll cost you nothing extra, and help me a great deal. I sincerely appreciate it.

Now I’m going to work, where I’ll stumble around in a haze for about nine hours, and try to avoid building a chin-to-desk drool bridge. Yes, it’s quite a life I’ve carved out for myself.

I’ll see you guys again soon.

Have a great day!

Support us by doing your holiday shopping at Amazon! If you’re in Canada, here’s your link. Thank you guys!

Famous People With The Same Birthday As You, A New Phone Is Finally On The Way, And Our Favorite And Least Favorite Pies

Today is the last day of November, AKA my birthday. Oh, it’s quite a celebration going on here at Surf Report Central… The boys are out doing God knows what, with God knows who, and Toney is upstairs working. Andy passes through from time to time, but I think he’s just hoping some food will come tumbling out of my mouth during one of my frenzied eating jags.

I tend to agree with Adam Carolla on the subject: having a birthday is not really much of an accomplishment. Most people have them, including Charles Manson (11/12). And adults who revel in being the center of attention and demand a big deal be made about the anniversary of the day they took their big vaginal log flume ride are ridiculous at best.

But, I’m not as hostile about it as Adam is; I don’t have that kind of energy. I mean, it’s nice to be acknowledged, even if it’s perfunctory or misplaced. Ya know? I appreciate all the well wishes at Facebook and in the real world, and the dinner Toney prepared, and the giant blueberry pie she bought me. Yum. Blueberry pie…. The fact that she knows I love them, and made sure there was one on hand, makes me feel good. And what’s wrong with that?

Some famous folks who were also born on November 30: Winston Churchill, Mark Twain, Dick Clark, Billy Idol, Bo Jackson, and Ben Stiller. Indeed, Bo and I were born on the same day AND YEAR. Bo knows birthdays.

If you could only pick one, which famous person with whom you share a birthday would you say is your favorite? Sorry Bo, but I’m going to have to go with Churchill and Twain. I know I said we could only pick one, but I have special privileges because this is my flumeday. Pass the beer nuts.

I called that phone insurance company today, and am supposed to have a replacement tomorrow morning. The screen on mine is destroyed. I asked the woman if it would be a brand new model or a refurbished one, and she never gave me a straight answer. She launched into a pre-programmed jumble of words that, in the end, didn’t provide any real information. Also, her Asian accent seemed to ratchet up during that part of the conversation, and subsided again once we moved on to other things. It’s funny how it was cutting in and out like that.

But, it’s supposed to be the exact same model and color as my current phone. And they’re sending new chargers, etc. So far I’m happy with how it’s going. I made the mistake of reading opinions of the company online. I know that people don’t generally take to the internet to praise great service, they go there angry. So, whatever you find is always going to be radically skewed. But we’ll see how it goes tomorrow. Hopefully it won’t be somebody else’s battered and booger-flecked Moto X. ‘Cause I can’t have that.

Today is what’s called Cyber Monday. It’s a really stupid name (what the shit is cyber, really??), and the whole thing is questionable and trumped up. But, it’s traditionally the biggest online shopping day of the year, the internet version of Black Friday.

So, I want to remind all of you, once again, about using our Amazon links. Just find one (like this one), pass through it to Amazon, and shop as normal. If you do that it won’t cost you one extra cent, but a small portion of whatever you spend will be redirected my way. Thank you guys for your support. December basically pays for the whole year of running this ridiculous website. And it’s sincerely appreciated.

In addition to the birthday question above, I’d like to know about your favorite pies. Or how you feel about pies vs. cake? Do you prefer one strongly over the other? And which pies do you not like? Use the comments link to bring us up to date on it.

My favorites: blueberry, lemon meringue, chocolate cream, apple, cherry, coconut cream.

Least favorite: Pecan, pumpkin (even more when it’s called “punkin”), peanut butter.

And that’s going to do it for today, my friends.

I’ll be back soon. Flumeboy out.

Check out Ridiculous Adventures In Suburbia, Volume One for Kindle, Nook, and Kobo. Now also available in paperback!