Category Archives: FNSC

William McAlpine

Willy picked his picture over a hunk of salmon at The Colorado Grill during FNSC.


2010 - Pufferbilly Days Photo Contest Nominee
Trouble

Willy also thoughtfully considered this photo of Derrick.


2010 - Pufferbilly Days Photo Contest Nominee

The reason I enter photo contests is that enjoy watching other people look at my pictures. I know that is slightly voyeuristic, but I can deal with it. Another reason I enjoy entering the Pufferbilly Days Photo Contest is that I like reading the judges comments on the back. I like to see what pictures they “got” and what pictures they didn’t get. I might review their commentary in an entry at a later date, but it is sufficient to say that like the frog picture Jill selected last year, the judges didn’t “get” this picture.

In This Old Purple Town

“This song is about a man that tells the truth about things that didn’t happen. It seems to be a male thing.”
-Glen Hansard – Introducing “Lies” at First Avenue – July 25, 2010

Most of this comes from an email that I wrote about my weekend in Minnesota.

Sara joined Willy and I for FNSC at The Colorado Grill. After the meal had concluded, Sara and I packed up into the car and headed for Crystal, Minnesota to stay the weekend with her brother Steve and see my favorite band, The Swell Season, in concert.

The trip started with a cloud of sorrow as I was hoping that Jen and Derrick would be joining us for the trip. I had tried to convince them to make the trip even though I knew First Avenue was not a good venue for a 7 month prego to watch a concert. Even if that concert was going to be transcendent. I even went so far as to give Derrick a Mr. T sticker from my childhood sticker book in an attempt to help him see the obvious solution to getting Jen to Minnesota.

My immense powers of persuasion did manage to move them from “no way Jose” all the way to “sitting on the fence”. Unfortunately while they were sitting on that fence a storm with 85 MPH winds came through one Saturday night and shattered the fence and 3 of their favorite trees. This ended my dream of their attendance.

It would not be the last disappointment this weekend.

As I opened up the Buick on the highway, Sara fired up her iPod and we had a Johnny Cash sing-along. At least we did when I knew the words.

Fueled by Johnny Cash and Big League Chew we made it to Steve’s residence in record time.


In this Old Purple Town
Our hosts Steve and Maggie

In this Old Purple Town
Maggie

We woke up in the morning and headed to Harriet Island to watch Flugtag. I was expecting it to be a pretty big deal, but nothing like it ended up being.

I was hoping to find The Britsons down there, but when we got down to the river there were 90,000 people crowded on both sides of the river. We started our day on the north side of the river, but the entrants and all of the “stuff” appeared to be on the south side of the river. So we made the several mile walk to the south side of the river where we met up with Becca.

Flugtag was cool and I’m glad that I went, but I’m not sure I would go again. It was so crowded on the south side of the river that a person could barely turn around. Although one flying craft did set a new world record, almost every other craft just fell 30 feet off the ramp into the water. There were no food vendors and the only drink for sale was Red Bull and they sold out of that before I got my thirst up.

After we met up with Becca we made the several mile trek back to the north side of the river so we could actually see something and breathe.


In this Old Purple Town
On the move to the south side.

In this Old Purple Town
St. Paul

In this Old Purple Town
I don’t know what these people were, besides interesting.

In this Old Purple Town
View from the Bridge

In this Old Purple Town
A “Flying” Craft

In this Old Purple Town
Another Entrant

In this Old Purple Town
Another Entrant

In this Old Purple Town
A Hamburger “Flying” Craft

In this Old Purple Town
It was so crowded on the south side that you couldn’t see anything but the video screen.

In this Old Purple Town
Back to the north side.

In this Old Purple Town
Underneath the bridge.

In this Old Purple Town
Stopping to pose with Becca.

In this Old Purple Town
At least you could see the flight deck from the north side.

In this Old Purple Town
Straight Down

In this Old Purple Town
This would be fun!

In this Old Purple Town
Think it will fly?

In this Old Purple Town
If you said, “Sort of.” You win!

In this Old Purple Town
Sara getting hot, I imagine.

In this Old Purple Town
Becca photographing Flugtag.

In this Old Purple Town
Becca photographing Flugtag.

In this Old Purple Town
It was hot enough and dry enough by the river that Becca went for a refreshing romp through a fountain.

After Flugtag we ate at a joint called Shamrock’s. I had my third Juicy Lucy this year and I’m still declaring Matt’s Bar to have the best in the business.

After the meal we dropped Rebecca off at her car with plans to meet up for supper at a restaurant that I saw on Man vs. Food.

On an episode of Man vs. Food they went to Gasthof zur Gemutilichkeit to try their Meterbratwurst Challenge. I had no desire to try downing a Meter long bratwurst on my own. I had plans for the remainder of the evening and big plans for the next day. I didn’t want to be miserable.

However, I did want to see the Meterwurst and photograph it. So my plan was to try to convince Jill to split one with me despite the ludicrous $8.00 fee for splitting meals. But fate worked against me and Jill had to cancel on Gasthof zur Gemutlichkeit because she was pressed into babysitting duty after her friend’s dad had a heart attack.

I regrouped and made a new plan. I talked Becca into splitting the massive bratwurst with me.

Bethany joined us at the restaurant. As did my friend Matthew. Despite the website making a big deal about getting a reservation and the restaurant calling me back twice to confirm the reservation, the restaurant was only about 70% full when we got there.

Then came the biggest disappointment of the trip. They were out of Meterbratwurst. Becca and I ended up splitting some kind of bratwurst plate that was disappointing. Their bratwurst ended up being the blandest tasting bratwurst of my life.

Becca described it perfectly:

“It tastes like a mixture of bland bratwurst and potato bologna.”

That is not a good combination if you aren’t familiar with potato bologna.

Another huge disappointment was the no free refill policy on pop. Are you kidding me? Are we in a Nazi Germany themed restaurant?

On the positive side, the side dishes were excellent and what I ate off of Steve and Sara’s platter was also delicious. Also, the house accordion player belted out an awesome version of Clapton’s “Wonderful Tonight”. I believe that I have used my immense powers of persuasion to convince Bethany to book the guy for her wedding.

Then after the meal, it got a little bit weird. The waitress approached us and asked us if we wanted some post dinner smokeless snuff.

I passed as I like to keep my body a temple. No alcohol or tobacco in this temple. Only extremely greasy fried foods are allowed in The Bennett Temple.

My five dinner compatriots tried both the spearmint and raspberry “flavors”.

What they do is put a little bit of the snuff on what looks like a teeter totter. Then they place it under your nose. Then when you are ready they slam down on the teeter totter and you breathe in, snorting the “goodness” up your nose.

Gauging from the pictures below, it was a very enjoyable experience.


In this Old Purple Town
Becca wiping her nose.

In this Old Purple Town
Bethany in pain.

In this Old Purple Town
Bethany enjoying her smokeless snuff.

After the meal, I was planning on meeting up with Nate to go to The Uptown Theater to see Troll 2. Troll 2 is supposed to be one of the worst movies ever made, but highly entertaining. It is so bad that there is currently a movie playing art house movie theaters about it called Best Worst Movie. While that fits into my personal sense of humor, I really just want to see a movie in The Uptown Theater.

However, the timing of things just didn’t work out. I ended up outside of Toby Keith’s talking to Lenny about his 50th Birthday Party and his 35 year old wife. I don’t know Lenny or his brother Lorenzo, but they did provide a certain amount of entertainment until Nate picked me up and we went to Perkins so he could have supper.

At Perkins I had a bottomless cup of Cherry Coke. I don’t think I ever appreciated free refills more.

I spent the night at Nate, Bethany and Becca’s place.

The plan was for Bethany, Becca and I to meet up with Steve and Sara for brunch at Hell’s Kitchen, but it turns out that you need to have a reservation to eat there. Hell’s Kitchen will also have to wait until my next trip to Minnesota.

It also turned out that 11 am was too early for Becca to wake up, but I will let it slide since she was up late watching Once.

The substitute for Hell’s Kitchen ended up being Stabby’s Cafe. A small cafe that Bethany had been eying since we drove past it on the way to Matt’s Bar back in February.

It was a tasty little breakfast, although I was slightly disappointed with their logo. It was a knife through a heart. I knew it was a long shot, but I was hoping that they sold t-shirts with a “stabbing hobo” logo.


In this Old Purple Town

There had been much discussion about where we should eat before the concert. Becca had been pushing pretty hard for Azia, but her boyfriend Gelli pushed for his parent’s restaurant: It’s Greek to Me.

Gelli, Becca, Bethany, Jill, Sara, Steve and I met up there before the concert. Gelli kept bring out appetizer after appetizer. Although they were all tremendous, including the Sagnaki, one that really struck me was very simple. It was watermelon with feta cheese on top of it. I thought it looked so extremely weird, but it was so extremely tasty.

I had the Roast Leg of Lamb. It was incredible. Well, I don’t want to go too far with the superlatives though. Because the desert: Kadaifi was truly off the charts when it comes to superlatives. I have spent a few restless nights dreaming about it.

The meal ended up being on the house, but that is not the reason that I highly, highly recommend checking out It’s All Greek to Me if you are anywhere near the Uptown area.

Becca and Gelli left us to go to work. The rest of us made our way to First Avenue. The doors opened at 7. We got there at about 6:20. The line was already around the block.

While there were a few disappointments over the weekend, these were definitely erased by the concert. The Swell Season did not disappoint.

We picked a spot about 50 or so feet from the stage to watch the opening act. The opening act was fair and his voice reminded me of Neil Young and that is a good thing.

After the opening act was done, Bethany, Jill and Sara went outside to smoke. The crowd almost immediately took their spots. It was so compacted in there that it made Flugtag feel like an open field.

A small highlight of the evening for me was when a guitar tech walked across the stage with Glen’s trademark Takamine NP15 and the crowd gave a big cheer.

The Swell Season started the show with my favorite song from Strict Joy, Low Rising. As the song concluded I got a text from Jill. They couldn’t get back to me. They were back by the shirts.

So I made my way through the crowd to get back to them. I made no new friends in this process, but I did make it back to them.

They followed Low Rising with two more songs from Strict Joy: In These Arms and The Rain. Two more great songs.

This was followed by another favorite from Once: Lies. Lies is one of the greatest driving alone and singing songs ever recorded.

Then Marketa took over the vocals for If You Want Me.

She played guitar on their next tune Fantasy Man.

Glen took back over vocals for my 2nd favorite Swell Season song: Leave. This was followed by Back Broke.

Then they played a great cover of Van Morrison’s Into the Mystic. I was very excited to hear a band play a cover of a Van Morrison song that wasn’t Brown Eyed Girl.

They followed this with another Marketa song: I Have Loved You Wrong.

Next was a classic from The Frames: Revelate.

Then they finished up with two great more songs from Once: When Your Mind’s Made Up and the Oscar winning Falling Slowly.

Glen started the encore with a completely unplugged version of my favorite Swell Season song Say it To Me Now. Just him standing at the front of the stage wailing. It was awesome! I had to show Jill that I had goosebumps.

Marketa followed with a new song called Crossroads. I look forward to a time when I am in possession of a recording of it.

There are really only two songs I don’t like in Once. One is Fallen from the Sky that is more than slightly too techno for me. The other is the only song that isn’t performed by The Swell Season. It is called Gold.

Strangely, every musician I know seems to love this song. I think it might be the vocal harmonies that annoy me, but whatever it is, I just don’t like the song.

Gold was the next song they played and I actually enjoyed. The harmonies were less grating in person. Also, the current incarnation of The Swell Season does not include a violinist. Gold is also much more enjoyable without the violin part.

It makes me wonder if I would like Fallen from the Sky live.

Before the final song of the night Glen gave the crowd a vocal lesson and we sang the backing vocals for High Horses.

It was an absolutely amazing show and probably the best concert I’ve ever seen. Even though I had been standing for well over 3 hours I didn’t want the show to end. They could have still played their cover of Springsteen’s Drive All Night that they played at the Hollywood Bowl the week before. Or their cover of The Byrds’ You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere from the I’m Not Here Soundtrack. Or their cover of Candi Staton’s Young Hearts Run Free. Or their cover of The Pixies’ Gigantic that they play on one of their live DVDs. Or numerous other Frames songs like What Happens When the Heart Just Stops or Fitzcarraldo. Or Paper Cup or The Verb from Strict Joy!

But I have no real complaints. Their voices are even better live than they are recorded. I can’t wait until they come around again. Hopefully to a venue where we can sit, but if not, I will still be there.

Dr. The Incidental Gardener

Since today is/was an extremely big day for the person that gave me the name “The Incidental Gardener”, I thought I would share a few more things from the files of The Incidental Gardener.

For FNSC last week Carrie, Jason and I helped Nader move some of the hundreds of boxes of movies and paraphernalia into storage. While I was waiting for the Baiers to arrive I took some photos of a lovely flowerbed that sits near Nader’s current apartment. The Incidental Gardener liked what he saw.


Dr. The Incidental Gardener

Dr. The Incidental Gardener

Dr. The Incidental Gardener

Dr. The Incidental Gardener

Dr. The Incidental Gardener

Dr. The Incidental Gardener

Dr. The Incidental Gardener

Dr. The Incidental Gardener

Dr. The Incidental Gardener

I am temporarily storing some of Nader’s movies at my place. While we were dropping off boxes filled with movies, Carrie admired many of my flowers. She asked for my advice on how to grow such a lovely collection of flowers. I offered her some of my wisdom. Here are a few pictures from The Incidental Gardener’s personal collection.


Nature's Amen - 2010

Nature's Amen - 2010

In closing, congratulations to Angie and Jon on their big day!

Unaffiliated Triad

A collection of unrelated photos and stories…

Bill’s Return

Bill returned to Boone briefly on Saturday. A few pictures from our time together.


Unaffiliated Triad

At FNSC Willy agreed to attempt to eat ice cream on 100 straight days. At first he balked at attempting such a thing, but the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. He shook hands on the deal and “locked it in”. Saturday was Day 15 of this new challenge. He had a Dairy Queen banana split.


Unaffiliated Triad

Unaffiliated Triad

Unaffiliated Triad

In February of 2005 Jay talked Bill into coming back from Nebraska so that Jay could film a sequel to our “hit” Games. It has been over 5 years since that cold day in Ledges and Jay has yet to complete and release Games 2. In the pictures above, Bill is asking Jay to give up “editing” of Games 2 and give the footage to somebody that would finish the movie. Jay is enjoying Bill’s frustration as much as Willy enjoys ice cream. Willy is enjoying Bill’s frustration and Jay’s enjoyment of Bill’s frustration.


Unaffiliated Triad
A Group Photo


Cherry Tree

A couple of people from my Church came over and picked some cherries from the cherry tree.


Unaffiliated Triad

Unaffiliated Triad

Unaffiliated Triad
I got a cherry pie out of the deal.

A Deer

A couple pictures of a deer relaxing behind the Computer Mine.


Unaffiliated Triad

Unaffiliated Triad

Memorial Day Weekend

I had a pretty awesome Memorial Day Weekend and saw all of the right people. Plus, my grill got quite the workout.

The weekend started with FNSC at my humble abode. The group core was there, plus Jesse and Dawn. Jesse, Willy and I hung by the fire pit until about 2 in the morning.

On Saturday morning I got up early to go to the bank with Mom and Teresa to sign some legal documents involving a safety deposit box.

After that exercise I hit up Salon 908 where I put up a new 20×30 picture in the salon to replace the one that had been sold. While you are waiting for a haircut at Salon 908 now you can stare admiringly at this picture:


Weekly Photo Challenge Plant Alternates

I also got a sheering. Now I look borderline presentable. Even though I declined the eyebrow waxing that was offered.

I went home to clean up the kitchen best that I could. I had a Chef coming over to use it that afternoon and while I know that he looks down on my pathetic assortment of kitchen utensils, I wanted the area to be clean while he made magic.

After the kitchen cleaning, I went to Reiman’s Music to take pictures of a white piano for that week’s RWPE.

Next was a trip down to Beaverdale to pick up Sara. Although the Sara pickup also involved taking out her old air conditioner and putting a new air conditioner in her house. This ended up being a more painful process than I wanted it to be, but despite having to remove a nest from her window sill, the air condition finally found its home in her window.

Then was Todd and Peggy’s wedding. They got married on a golf course in Pleasant Hill. It was an impressive affair that included a free round of miniature golf, a photo booth and fireworks.

After the wedding Sara and I went to a bridge overlooking 235 so that I could work on a Personal Photo Project that will be published on July 9. It was from this experience I learned that another criteria that I should look for in photo assistants is the ability to turn a blind eye if I want to do something that is slightly illegal or dangerous. Sara doesn’t like it when she perceives me to be in “danger”. Of course, I already knew this from Personal Photo Project No. 16.

After dropping Sara back off in Beaverdale and doing some final tweaks on her air conditioner installation I voyaged back to Boone. A trip that takes quite a bit longer now that the Highway 17 bridge over the Des Moines River is closed until August.

I was hoping to make it back to Boone to hit the tail end of Nate’s birthday bash at The South Side, marking my triumphant return to the Boone Bar scene for the first time since 2008. However, I pulled back into Boone at roughly 1:40 and decided that it wasn’t worth it to go for 5 minutes. So instead I returned home to the Clockwork Couch and watched the tele.

Shortly after I got home Nate and Bethany returned home. They were both staying with me for the weekend and we talked briefly before they both crashed.

I got up early on Sunday morning and went to church. After church I grilled out with Nate after he returned from a poor round of golf with his friend Ryan. Earlier in the morning I had inadvertently interrupted Ryan’s vomiting efforts. It must have been quite the party that I missed.

Tim had bought a Nate a birthday cake with Nate’s 3rd or 4th grade picture on it. Most of Nate’s picture remained, except Nate’s face. Apparently Ryan had eaten Nate’s face the night before. After we were done grilling, I had some of Nate’s cake.

Later Nate proclaimed that the chicken wings he had made in my kitchen on the previous day were the best that he had ever made. This was a bold proclamation. Just ask Corey Faust if you doubt the veracity of that statement. Nate is going to make these legendary wings next time I go to Minnesota. Looks like I might have to cash in on that when I go see The Swell Season at the end of July!!

After resting from the grill, Jill came over and picked me up. We hit Jen and Derrick’s for a barbecue. Derrick grilled up bratwurst with pineapple in them. It was decided that these brats tasted slightly breakfasty. Even though Webster doesn’t consider breakfasty to be a word. They were still tasty. Plus any chance to eat burgers made with Derrick’s super secret burger recipe is always a great time.

I got to watch the Gorshe Baby Ultrasound for the third time. I still have no clue about the sex of Baby Gorshe, but I enjoy watching the video nonetheless.

After a lengthy discussion about the greatness of Daniel Tosh, we left while Derrick napped on the loveseat.

The next morning I slept in until 9:30. That is a late morning for me, except on the occasional work day. Nate, Bethany and I grilled out for lunch. By this time, my grill was definitely entering the danger area that cause the fire during the 2009 Road Trip Planning Barbecue, but it made it through another meal without incident.

After the meal Nate and Bethany packed up and I burned Bethany a copy of Strict Joy for their car trip home.

I then grabbed my camera and took a few pictures.


Sorrow and Gladness - 2020

Sorrow and Gladness - 2020

Sorrow and Gladness - 2020

Whispering Beauty - 2010

Whispering Beauty - 2010

Whispering Beauty - 2010

Whispering Beauty - 2010

Memorial Day Weekend

Memorial Day Weekend

Memorial Day Weekend

After taking pictures I went to the cemetery. At the cemetery I ran into Carla. We walked around the cemetery for about an hour. Then I went home and prepared the house for an impromptu family barbecue.

I didn’t clean the grill, but it did manage to make it through yet one more meal without erupting into flames. I should clean that at some point.

After the family went home I rested on the Clockwork Couch and watched Wooden Shoes. A movie made my a fellow computer miner by the name of Scotland Thompson. If you want a review of the movie, too bad, but I will loan my copy out.

I would like to report to interested parties that do not know yet…

Willy did finish his 100 Mile Race this past weekend.

Willy knocked out 100 miles in La Grange, Wisconsin as part of the weekend of Kettle 100 Endurance Runs.

He ran 100 miles in an official time of 28 hours 24 minutes 29 seconds.

I know, pretty insane!

Vacation Day 7 – Couch Time

When I originally was planning my vacation I had set aside this day to make a road trip. I didn’t know where I wanted to go for sure, but I knew that a trip to Wilton and their old timey ice cream parlor was definitely on the list.

I had spent some time with a fellow computer miner and member of the Broken Furnace Support Group Micky in discussing places near Wilton. I had given some thought to visiting a mint shop in Deep River. A really big frying pan in Brandon. I was also thinking about visiting Muscatine to see the Button Factory Museum and the Button Factory Restaurant that was highly endorsed by Micky.

However, after spending an extra day in Minnesota and driving close to 800 miles in those 3 days, plus spending only about 30 minutes of waking time at home on Thursday I decided to just become reacquainted with my buddy the Clockwork Couch.

I vowed not to leave my house until Friday Night Supper Club.

For the most part, I made good on my vow. I sat on my couch and caught up An Artist’s Notebook. I sent Jen a text message wishing her a “Happy Ultrasound Day”. I texted Jill some frog pictures from a Personal Photo Project that will get published in about 3 weeks.

But mostly I tried to reduce myself to a vegetative state while watching movies. It must have worked, because the only movie I can remember watching for sure is Unforgiven. I realize now that I should have made it a western day. Backing it up with The Ox-Bow Incident, Once Upon a Time in the West and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance.

However, I was only able to sit and do nothing for so long. So I contacted Mercury AKA The Salmon AKA The Dance Machine AKA The Ex-Lone Wolf AKA Willy to see if I could photograph him running.

A deal was brokered and I followed him around McHose Park (in a car) while he ran. I will publish those pictures in 5 weeks, but I will publish some of the other pictures I got while hanging around the best city park in the state.

You should be warned that one of these pictures is brutally frank in its portrayal of the biological function of sex. I suppose that it could be described as pornographic.

Ye be warned!


Linden

Vacation Day 7 - Couch Time

Vacation Day 7 - Couch Time

Vacation Day 7 - Couch Time

Vacation Day 7 - Couch Time

Vacation Day 7 - Couch Time

Vacation Day 7 - Couch Time

Vacation Day 7 - Couch Time

Vacation Day 7 - Couch Time

After our trip to McHose I went home and cleaned up for FNSC. While I was getting ready I got a text from Jen.

“Happy ultra sound day! Everything looks perfect! Don’t know if it is a boy or a girl… It’ll be a surprise.”

That was awesome news!

With news like that it was time to go and cap off a pretty lazy day with a great FNSC.

My Great Shame

I cited a FNSC ending in My Great Shame a few journal entries back, but I never indicated what was My Great Shame.  A few people already know about My Great Shame because I exposed those people to it. I’m not sure if I exposed them because I wanted them to share in my misery or if I was using this exposure as an excuse to continue in my shame.

However, I have been motivated by other people’s strength in the last few weeks to quit my shame.  If Jen, Derrick, Jill and Sara can quit or work on quitting smoking,  I assuredly could give up my shame. It is after all, not a physical addiction.

I witnessed some of the strategies that others have used to quit smoking.  Cinnamon sticks. Only smoking at work. Not smoking at work. I tried in vain to step down with a crutch, but it didn’t work. I had to quit cold turkey.

It was My Great Shame, but I can proudly proclaim that I have been free of its demon clutches for three weeks now.

What is My Great Shame?

The Starz Original show Spartacus: Blood and Sand.

This easily has to be the worst scripted program to ever grace the airwaves.  I’m pretty sure that it is written by junior high students hopped up on meth. It is a combination of 3 things: extremely bizarre and gratuitous sex scenes, extremely ridiculous bloody battle scenes and the most pathetically-written-profanity-laced-dialogue ever.  The dialogue makes the dialogue in Games and Quietus appear that it was written by Shakespeare.

Despite the fact that it is beyond horrible, I couldn’t stop watching it and I was ashamed.  I knew it was clearly beneath me and didn’t belong in the guilty pleasure category like Just One of the Guys.

The best excuse I can give for watching this wretched show was that I couldn’t wait to see what ridiculously stupid thing would happen in the next scene or in the next episode.

I wrote to Andree, Baier and Russell and told them about how I couldn’t stop watching this terrible show. At least Baier and Andree watched it and came to a similar conclusion as me. This was truly the worst scripted program in the history of television.

I decided that I wasn’t strong enough to quit cold turkey. I spent a Sunday watching Stanley Kubrick’s Spartacus and backed it up with Ben-Hur. I figured watching excellent historical drama would cleanse my palette and free me from the grip that this show had on me.

However, while I was watching Kurbrick’s Spartacus I got a text from Jill about how her dad loved Spartacus: Blood and Sand.  She had rightfully mocked him for watching this terrible show. I didn’t think that this information would lead to a relapse for me, but it did.

On the Thursday of that week I was at Jen and Derrick’s house. Derrick told me that they were spending the upcoming Saturday with his parents.  I was gripped with an uncontrollable urge to expose them to Spartacus: Blood and Sand. I grabbed their remote and loaded up an episode from the OnDemand menu.  I fast forwarded through most of the episode and we watched the scene where Spartacus defeats Theokoles.

Then I just told them to ask Derrick’s dad about the show. 

I walked out of their house knowing this terrible show was out of my life forever.

The previous Friday was the Jucy Lucy experimental Friday Night Supper Club. Near the end of the night I was aimlessly flipping channels when I came across the brand new episode of Spartacus: Blood and Sand. I told Jay and Willy that they HAD to see this show. Everybody should experience what might be the worst show in the history of television. I apologized to Dawn for subjecting her to such a thing as this show.

Jay and Willy agreed that this show was wretched but it had a certain lure to it. You do want to keep watching to see what extremely bizarre and terrible thing that they are going to do next.

Dawn “pretended” to get a text message in the middle of the show and left.

I woke up the morning following exposing Jen and Derrick to the show and felt terrible about being powerless against the dreadful allure of this awful show.  My self-esteem took a beating. I looked in the mirror (not literally) and I quit Spartacus: Blood and Sand.

I walked away from the show that day. It has been 3 weeks now and I finally feel good about myself again.

Fount

When I recategorized the entries in this journal, there is one category that was sorely aching to be added, but I decided not add it because I was a tad bit fearful.

You? The Great Christopher D. Bennett was fearful?

I know it seems an unlikely turn of events, but it is true. The category that struck me with a small degree of trepidation was food. Go ahead, go to the website. Look at the list of categories. You won’t find food listed.

Why? Because I’m scared to know how many of my little adventures circulate around stuffing things down my pie hole.

Yet, in the next few weeks I might be launching a second blog with my eating chum Scottie D.

A couple Saturdays back we arranged a lunch trip to BK’s in Ogden to knock down what we both consider to be the state’s best tenderloin. This was going to conclude a weeklong food vacation for Scottie D. He had spent the early part of the week visiting the Twin Cities eating Jucy Lucies. Then he took the family down to Kansas City to Blanc Burgers and Bottles to have what he considers to be the greatest burger in the world.

I’m not sure if Scottie D. really wanted to go to BK’s or if he was avoiding going to a birthday party where he might run into a guy by the name “The Sleeve”. If you know the tall tale (actually sick and twisted story) of The Sleeve, you know why Scottie D. was looking to avoid the shindig.

On the day that we were going to make the pilgrimage to Ogden for tenderloin bliss Scottie D. called me and wanted to know if instead of O-Town if it would be okay if we went with his friend “House” to Stanhope to try a restaurant up there that was getting rave reviews.
I’m always on the prowl for new places to eat, so I agreed to the change of venue. On the way up there House enthralled us with tales of a pizza joint just a tad further up the road in Kamrar that was excellent.
We ate at the restaurant in Stanhope and it was decent. They had some intriguing appetizers. We tried their Reuben Bites. They were good, but the cheese was not Swiss cheese. It was some bland tasting yellow cheese. Most likely cheddar. My burger was tasty, but Scottie D. did not enjoy his burger. He cited the steak sauce on it.
After we left the restaurant Scottie D. proposed the unthinkable – The Double Lunch!
I was game. I’m not sure if Scottie D.’s motivation was unquenched appetite or he just had a burning desire to avoid the lasciviousness that surrounds The Sleeve.
Either way, we continued our journey up Highway 17 to Kamrar.

We pulled up to the pizza place and saw this awesome sign:


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Pickles Pub

The sign was attached to kind of a dump looking building and I had some concerns. It has been my experience that some of the best food is served at the biggest dives. I was hoping that this would be another one of those times.
We opened the outside door and it opened into an entry way. The entry way looked and felt like it was going to come crashing down upon us at any time.

I was definitely leery at this point, but ventured on inside to find…

Something rather shocking. The inside was roomy and beautiful. The woodwork was nice and fancy and appeared to have been recently done.

We ordered some Pickles Fries.


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Pickles Fries

They were much tastier than this horrible phone picture portrays.

We also ordered up a taco pizza.  Their pizza was thin crust and this was easily one of the best taco pizzas I’ve ever had in my life.  The only thing that was strange about it was that they didn’t cover the whole pizza with lettuce, chips and tomatoes.  They only covered the center. 

It was a great pizza and I have already decided that Pickles Pub is where I’m taking FNSC when it is time for my birthday FNSC.

On the way back to Boone I was uncomfortably full.  I was further made uncomfortable when Scottie D. finally told me the story about The Sleeve became known as The Sleeve. It is a story that I have recounted to a few other unfortunate souls because I believe that misery loves company. 

After his tale, Scott declared that we should start a blog where we tell people where the best food is in central Iowa.  I agreed to take part in this experiment even though my experience with starting group blogs (see The Sports Proletariat) has been decidedly negative.

However, if I think positively, I will be buying a new domain name and starting up a blog with Scottie D. in the near future. Hopefully it will go somewhere.

The best way for it to go somewhere is to enlist the aid of others. What we need is scouts.  If you have tried an excellent place and you think we might enjoy it, let me know and we will let you know if you are right or not. 

Scouts that show particularly good taste in picking locations might even get to move up to the level of contributors some day.

Punch Myself in the Face

I had decided to shave all the way down to a dirty naked face last weekend. It had been over 3 years since my chin had tasted air and felt the rays of sunlight. My chin was dreadfully dry and desperately in the need of some moisturizing. Lots and lots of moisturizing.

For some reason, I allowed myself to be sold by Jesse on shaving down to just a moustache for one glorious day. Despite my better judgment, I did it.

On Thursday night I spent close to an hour in the bathroom slowly trimming my beautiful goat down to a dirty stache. When I had completed my task, I had to make a conscious effort to stop myself from punching my reflection. I hated that dirty stache.

Although I had stayed up well past my normal bedtime to complete this mission from the devil, I couldn’t sleep at all. I knew that I had violated the natural order of things.

I showed up for work the following day and tried to avoid everybody. Well, I did stop to see Micky. He deserved to see the stache since he has been a rock for me in the Busted Furnace Support Group that we have with Vest every few days.

Jesse showed up at work about an hour after I did. He was still sporting a splendid goat. I felt that I had been had, but he showed me his clippers. He went to the restroom and came back looking like the same type of doucher that I looked like.


Punch Myself in the Face

Punch Myself in the Face

After taking those pictures of Jesse looking so wretched. I allowed myself to be photographed in this horrible state.


Punch Myself in the Face

As I was posing for this picture, the World’s Greatest UPS Man came in with his daily delivery. He seemed to enjoy how wretched I looked.


Punch Myself in the Face

Then Jesse and I posed for a picture.

I have known Jesse since I moved from unannexed Boone to Urban Boone and enrolled in Mrs. Ford’s 2nd Grade Class. Over the years we have posed for many a photo together. But I have not a doubt in my mind that this is the worst picture of us ever.


Punch Myself in the Face

That night Jesse and I went to Trivia Night for FNSC. We had 3 missions.

The first mission was to drink as much sweet tea out of mason jars as was humanly possible. Check and double checked.

The second mission was to pilot Team Stache from the complete and utter futility that has been its history all the way to mediocrity. Check and double checked. Team Stache (I’m not sure what they were known as before FNSC showed up and revolutionized the game) had never finished above 3rd to last. We piloted the team all the way to respectability. We finished almost exactly in the middle of the pack of 24 teams. Although we would have surely finished higher if the Sports category would have included sports questions. The Winter Olympics and NASCAR are not sports. Although I’m pretty sure that the judges would have given us points for picking Brewster Baker as the answer for the question about the winner of the 2010 Daytona Left Turnathon. But we were overruled.

Mission 3 was to be the table that had the most fun. Check, double checked and triple checked. I knew every member of Team Stache (Jay, Willy, Geri D., Shannon and Jesse) very well with the exception of Papa Smurf and his wife. At the end of the night I wasn’t sure if Mr. and Mrs. Papa Smurf loved or loathed us. They seemed to run hot and cold on us and certainly weren’t fans of our lengthy discussion of how great Kenny Rogers was in Six Pack. However, Mrs. Papa Smurf called Geri D. on the following day to tell her one and only one thing – She had never had so much fun at Trivia Night and it was all because FNSC is the bee’s knees! She wanted to make sure that we would be returning to Trivia Night in 3 months. I think FNSC might just make a return, but the moustaches won’t. I’m kind of thinking that our team theme on that night will be “lumberjacks”. A little tribute to my boy Steve Roberts.

After our team huddled up and put all of our hands in and shouted “Mediocrity!!!” I tried to convince Jay to come over in the morning to take a couple of photos of the stache before it was clipped from my face and washed down my sink into the dark, dank drain of history.

Jay insisted on taking the pictures that night because he couldn’t stand to know that this moustache was even in existence.

Jay came over and took some pictures of the porn alter ego that Micky wanted me to create with the moustache. He even named such a character “Hammer”.

Here are a few publicity stills for a movie that will never exist starring “Hammer”.


Punch Myself in the Face
“Did you call a repair guy?”
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“Mrs. Robinson, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with this water heater…”
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“It is kind of hot in here. Do you mind if I take off my shirt?”

Although I think most people were just being kind, the reviews on the moustache were mixed. Mixed between people who were honest and people who were struggling to come up with something that didn’t sound cruel.

4 women from work commented that it looked “good”.
Andree said, “Are you hosting a Do-It-Yourself show on channel 11 tonight? You look exactly like Al from that Home Improvement show.”
Jen said, “I’m totally laughing out loud!” I will point out that she actually typed out “laughing out loud” as opposed to “lol”. These mean two totally different things. Jen also admitted on Sunday that she had shown a stache picture to Dionne from work. Her response was perhaps the most honest. “He needs to shave that immediately.”
Shannon said, “The soul patch makes the stache work.” I still don’t know what she means by make it work. As near as I can tell it doesn’t work at all.
When I sent the picture to Jill, I warned her that it would make her want to punch me in the face. Her response. “U don’t deserve a punch in the face! It’s not bad, especially considering NO ONE should have a moustache long term in the 21st century.” Jill must be a pacifist because I definitely deserved a punch in the face for looking like that!

Although Jesse will be celebrating Moustache Day again next year, I will be passing. I don’t think I have the discipline to make it through the day without hurting myself and that wretched upper lip hair.

Regression

I haven’t been as active blogging lately. There are several reasons for this absence.

  1. I have been spending most of my free time organizing the basement.  When I completed this project I moved on to the upstairs.  I am on the verge of being quite downsized.  Hopefully this project will be completed next Wednesday.  Or at least, I hope that the only room that I will have left to organize and downsize will be the office after next Wednesday.  There is always a fair chance that I will just give up on the office and declare it a permanent disaster area.  We’ll see how the other two rooms go.
  2. When I haven’t been organizing, eliminating and donating I have been moving furniture around. True this doesn’t take much physical time, but it is emotionally draining.
  3. I have been working on a personal facial hair project.  For one 36 hour period, I wasn’t intelligent enough to put a noun against a verb in a meaningful way.
  4. The last couple of Friday Night Supper Clubs have been emotionally draining.  The night we viewed Free Walking at Jay’s apartment was a visceral experience.  What a great movie!  Then the Jucy Lucy replication Friday Night Supper Club was an overt failure that ended with My Great Shame.  It took me several days to recover from that shame.  At least Dawn got to become an auxiliary member of FNSC.  She allegedly doesn’t even mind that it is a “Boys Club”.  I will believe her when she makes a return appearance. Plus Trivia Night.  Well, I can’t even begin to discuss how emotionally draining Trivia Night ended up being.  Plus Trivia Night fell in that 36 hour period where I was a moron. However, Team Stache (Geri D., Willy, Jay, Jesse, Shannon, Papa Smurf and his wife) was an undeniable powerhouse.  I only wish I had pictures to share so that you could relive the experience.
  5. The cleaning crew (Jill) for my Oscars Watch had to work at her “real job” and got stuck in Minnesota.  Therefore I had to do my own cleaning.  The bed maker (Sara) also got stuck working her “real job” so I had to make my own bed.  I tried to get that out with a straight face.  Sara had to work, so I just shut my bedroom door and pretended that the room was how it was supposed to be.  My kitchen crew (Jen and Derrick, well mostly Derrick) came through with flying colors though.  Still, I was emotionally and physically exhausted. I should add that my neighbor joined the Watch and listening to his plan to get his life back together by finding a girlfriend so that he can have some self-esteem.  Well, that was psychologically draining.
  6. Perhaps the most important reason why I haven’t taken keyboard in hand and banged out some words is because during the move from one blogging entity to a different blogging entity, I decided to completely recategorize my blog. I started this process with well over 770 journal entries to review. Through this process I eliminated several journal entries.  Things that I didn’t need any longer. Like videos that no longer existed or calls to donate to a “charity” that would lie and claim that your donation was tax deductible.  I even broke down categories by people and I left the number of blog entries by the category.  A quick glance down the left side of this blog will tell you who I seem to write about the most.  Are you surprised that Jay is number 1?

A surprising side effect of my reading is that I think I might have regressed as a writer.  I fear that I might have peaked and it is all downhill from here on out.  Some of my writings in the not so distant past were clever, witty and dare I say it – brilliant.  I fear if I was ever going to write a play for ACTORS that was going to revolutionize costumed (believe me I have tried – Geri D. will not let me put an all-nude play on her stage) drama in a meaningful way, I have missed my chance.  Rather than eloquently crafting phrases, I now rely on cheap tricks (like my over reliance on parenthetical statements that makes me want to punch myself in the face almost as surely as if I had moustache) and broad allusions.  I have surely descended into hack-hood.  See, that isn’t even a real word.  It isn’t like the old days when I used to invent words that are sure to be the next surefire hits in our lexicon.  I can’t come up with a word so I throw out a dash and postfix and then I merrily go on my way.

It didn’t used to be like this.  (I just don’t mean that I used to not end sentences with prepositions.)  I used to be growing as a writer.  For example, when I was in the 4th Grade I wrote the worst creative writing stories ever!! They were based loosely on a pet rabbit that most likely died due to my neglect.  Only I stole some ideas from a few cartoons and movies that I enjoyed and out of my pencil and on to some poor dead tree came writing that was so dizzingly bad that it makes me want to vomit when I read just a few short passages:

When Fluffy found him he took him to Leo the Lion. Leo took care of him. Pucky told Leo his life story. Then he told Fluffy what Jack, Jill and Joan said. Fluffy said “I better get going” then he left. He hid in Raspberry Forest and said “By the power of Carrot Castle! I HAVE THE POWER!” Then he said, “Up, up and away and he flew off to find Joan, Jack and Jill. When he found them he landed and said, “Pucky sent me.” Superfluff said.  “Let’s get that wimpy rabbit!” Superfluff picked them up and twirled them until they gave up and promised to stop picking on Pucky. Then he went after Swampfrog. When he was fighting Swampfrog he said a few words he shouldn’t of. When he returned he taught Pucky karate. When he stepped into the pond, Jack, Jill, Joan and Swampfrog were waiting for him but Pucky beat them up in 15 fish winks. Now everybody calls him The Karate Duck.

Fortunately I can still say that I’m a better writer than I was when I put that horrible drivel to paper. But I did slightly improve by high school:

Eric reached deep into his soul, past the candy wrappers and half-eaten bagels, to the insult department. Through the corridor with doors marked with signs that read “whites”, “blondes”, “Scott Kendall” and “dogs”.  He opened the door that read: “The Mother of All Insults”.

The glowing light almost blinded him. The brilliant shiny box in the room was his destination. He opened the box and was greeted with a cloud of rolling smoke. He reached into the box and grabbed a piece of paper. Eric read the paper and he knew he had his death blow!

Back in reality Eric stared at the landing party and said… and I quote… “Huh, freaks of nature!”

He was puzzled when this didn’t break their morale. They were laughing at him. This was the Mother-of-All-Insults and they were laughing at HIM!

Chris looked at Eric and broke into another 5 minutes of laughter. Chris controlled himself and said, “You sir are our inferior. You call us freaks in an attempt to manipulate reality. We have evolved into a place of superiority over you!”

“Liar! I’m not listening to you!” Eric screamed.

“Scott. Who-o-o-o-o-o is this m-m-m-an?” Captain Punjab whimpered.

As you can tell, I have clearly progressed from the terrible wretch that wrote those words. I just hope that I am not regressing to that level again!