Category Archives: FNSC

Fount

March 24, 2010 Christopher D. Bennett 2 Comments

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:

IMAGE LOST
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.

IMAGE LOST
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.

Andree, FNSC, Formal Portrait, Geri, Jay, Jen, Jesse, Jill, Movies, Self-Portrait, Shannon, Steve, Vest, Willy, Work

Punch Myself in the Face

March 10, 2010 Christopher D. Bennett 4 Comments

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.

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

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.

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.

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”.

“Did you call a repair guy?”

“Mrs. Robinson, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with this water heater…”

“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.

Blogging, Dawn, Derrick, Eric, FNSC, Geri, History, House, Jay, Jen, Jesse, Jill, Life, Sara, Shannon, Writing

Regression

March 9, 2010 Christopher D. Bennett 3 Comments

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

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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!

FNSC, Formal Portrait, Jay, Jen, Mom, Personal Photo Project, Willy

Personal Photo Project of the Week No. 7

March 5, 2010 Christopher D. Bennett

Shattered Dreams

My mom came over to my house a couple of days after I made this image and was horrified to find broken mirror all over my dining room table. She asked how the mirror got broken.

“I hit it with a hammer. Well actually Jay hit it with a hammer and then I hit it with a hammer some more.”

This made her even more horrified. She pointed out that breaking a mirror was bad luck. I was horrified to be related to somebody that was this superstitious.

Willy chose the name Shattered Dreams. He likes naming his portraits. He also named Grizzly McAlpine:

Shattered Dreams was taken during a FNSC at my house after we feasted at La Carreta and knocked down Tab Cola.

Willy showing he lacks the courage of his convictions.

Willy texting like a teenage girl.

Of course this was probably one of the nights where my furnace was on the fritz, so Jay cuddled up in my Snuggie and donned a mullet wig to keep warm.

It might just be me, but I think this look isn’t half bad for Mr. Janson. I’m so glad Jen gave me this wig, but I think I might just have to pay it forward.

Andree, Baier, Basketball, Black & White, Derrick, FNSC, Jay, Jen, Jesse, Jill, Nader, Sara, Self-Portrait, Shannon, Willy, Work

A Phenomenal Week

February 3, 2010 Christopher D. Bennett

Those with good memories will remember a few months back when I wrote a series of blogs about groups that I am in that have matching shirts. The keenly observant will recall that I said there were 5 such groups, but I only posted blogs about 4 such groups.

I was waiting until the final group had earned our way into being “blog-worthy”. That group made that leap from anonymity to greatness on Sunday night. That was just the conclusion of what was a phenomenal week.

The week started out to be not particularly great. On Monday morning I was nursing a nagging foot injury in my right heel from Sunday night’s brutal basketball doubleheader.

Then several great things happened. In no particular order (chronologically or in magnitude of greatness):

Bowling was cancelled so I got to nurse my foot injury, watch Hoarders and start on my basement sorting project.

Visit the Baiers and Andree.

Have lunch with Shannon at Dublin Bay.

Talk to Jill on the phone, twice.

Have three nights to work on my basement sorting project that allowed me to make major head way. Including creating lots of garbage, finding many an old artifact worth treasuring and creating a burn pile.

Have supper with Nader and seeing Extraordinary Measures. An extraordinarily average movie.

Made it to the gym twice, both times with the new fitness king Jesse Howard.

Ate my favorite meal in the world, sauerkraut casserole.

Visited Derrick and Dennis at work, where I got to listen to Derrick talk about guitars (one of my favorite things in the world to do) and where Dennis gave me a great description of what happened in the Personal Photo Project of the Week that I will publish on Friday.
Ushered at church. This was a bonus because I love the extra legroom I get when I usher, plus I spent time before church discussing my backup religion (ISU athletics) with Angie’s grandpa. It isn’t rare when my two religions merge, but usually it is the other way around. I’m at an Iowa State football game saying a prayer like this: “God, I know that you don’t interfere in the outcome of sporting events, but please let us make this PAT. I know that you are a Cyclone fan and isn’t there a limit to how much you will allow your people to suffer?”
Had lunch at Pizza Pit with Frank, Clarence and Derrick. Knocked down a substantial amount of drummies!
Talked Willy into posing for my Personal Photo Project of this week. It involved breaking a mirror and that is always fun!
Had FNSC with Willy and Jay at La Carreta.
When I went to the flower shop to buy flowers for a subject for RWPE, they had exactly the type of flower I wanted.
Took Nader to see Iowa State erase a 14 point deficit to beat Colorado on a miraculous finish.
My RWPE project turned out very well and has a few different interesting variations.
Introduced Jay to some of his old art that I found in the basement during my sorting.
Got a company profit sharing bonus that was easily large enough to cover my recent furnace repair.
The raise I gave myself (by canceling AFLAC and changing insurance plans) was on Friday’s paycheck.
Got an email from Sara where she quoted her instructor on how to do a pap smear. I won’t repeat it here, but it was a hilarious description of where not put your thumb. I will share that her instructor likes to compare the vagina to a self-cleaning oven.
Found out that I get to provide Jen with a tool that will help her with her stained glass projects.
Saw a bald eagle.
Came up with a new idea for an entertainment center for my living room. My Grandpa Bennett’s old workbench. I know this idea is pure unadulterated genius because my mom hates this idea.
Found out that I was born special and learned some family history to boot.
Made a beard shaving pact with Tony and Corey. If we lost our Ames Rec League basketball game, we all agreed to shave out beards.
Got some ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY, phenomenal news from Jill.

My week concluded with my Ames Rec League basketball game. Our team, The Little Dribblers, has struggled mightily season.I We hadn’t won a game yet this season. I had walked around the workplace guaranteeing victory, but Tony took my guarantee up a notch and suggested that we shave our beards if we lost on Sunday.

Based on how amazing my week had been, I was supremely confident that I wouldn’t be showing up for work on Monday as a dirty naked-face. I pledged myself to the pact.

My week kept getting better and better after the pact. When I walked into the gym on Sunday night I had no doubt in my mind that me and my Little Dribblers brethren would be walking back out of that gym 60 or so minutes later with our heads held high for the first time all season.

I should point out that when I say that we haven’t won a game this season, that doesn’t mean that we get close and lose it in the end. We have been on the wrong end of some fairly brutal blowouts. It is not an exaggeration to say that we have obviously become the girlfriend game for most of the foes in the league.

Maybe I should explain the concept of the girlfriend game to those that aren’t familiar with it.

The girlfriend game is the game where you force, bring or allow your girlfriend to attend. It is a game where you are fairly certain that you will win by a healthy margin. You will look impressive and it will reassure your girlfriend or wife that she made a wise choice in selecting you from the herd.

This is the way that men think. I’m pretty sure most women would rather be at home watching Gray’s Anatomy or whatever it is that women like to do on Sunday nights. Either way, it is not paranoia that forces me to make the observation that when teams play us, there are lots of lady friends in the other team’s cheering section that aren’t there when they are playing other teams.

For the record, only Donner has ever brought his lady to one of our games. She came to our first game and hasn’t returned since. Yes, the Little Dribblers have been sans female fans since our first game. It is a sad state of affairs, but it is understandable.

That isn’t to say that we are devoid of fans. Both Doug and Joe have brought their sons to our games. Thankfully they are both too young to lose respect for their fathers based on what has transpired on the court before their innocent eyes.

Based on how awesome my week had been, I warmed up with extreme amounts of confidence. The only thing that gave me cause for pause was the fact that Tony did not show up. Why had Tony suggested a beard growing pact and then failed to even show up? Did he know something that I did not?

We still had plenty of firepower. Firepower we didn’t have the first time we locked horns with our opponents. A game where we fell in OT after running out of steam because we only had 6 players.

This time we had 9 guys. 9 guys with a wide range of talents.

The game started out with the Little Dribblers jumping on our opponent. We opened up a quick 7-0 lead. But our opponent didn’t show any quit. They rattled off 9 straight points to grab the lead, but an old-fashioned 3 point play by Donner put us up for good.

The game turned into a defensive struggle with neither team able to score much against the other team’s tough defense. The Little Dribblers settled into halftime with a 19-16 lead. Not a comfortable lead, but we were clearly in control of the game and it was our first halftime lead of the season.

During halftime I collected my thoughts and sent out a score update text.

The third quarter was all about defense for the Little Dribblers. Our tough 2-3 zone suffocated the paint and our quick guards closed out quickly on their outside shooters to prevent any open looks.

We held our opponent without a single point for the entire third quarter. We were forcing our will on them, but there didn’t seem to be any quit in them. It wasn’t until the final few seconds of the third quarter when you could finally feel the air come out of the gym.

Memory is a funny thing and I can’t swear to every detail that I’m about to describe, but it is not the exactness of the details that is of the most importance. It is the general idea of what happened that is of consequence.

With about 7 seconds left we missed a layup. Our opponent rebounded the ball and headed up court. A little in front of the three point line, Chad knocked the ball free from the man he was guarding. The ball bounced to another one of our opponents, but Corey was there playing in the jersey of his man. Corey knocked the ball free and start dribbling towards our basket. I saw that there wasn’t much time left on the clock so I sprinted towards our basket and called out for the ball. Corey, with his legendary court awareness, spotted me out of the corner of his eye and burned a pass through 2 (maybe 3) defenders. Despite the smoking velocity I caught the ball and took a dribble and went up for a layup on my weak side. The ball left my hands and banked off the backboard and through the hoop. As my feet (still nursing an injured foot) landed on the court the buzzer sounded signifying the end of the third quarter. The Little Dribblers bench jumped up and celebrated in pandemonium. Our opponents lowered their heads and walked back to their bench. There was still 10 minutes left to play, but that play effectively ended the game. We had crushed their spirits.

The last quarter played out. The buzzer sounded (after a strange player where one of their players came completely across the court to foul me, while I was just dribbling out the clock after securing the final defensive rebound of the game) and the scoreboard shouted, “Little Dribblers 43 Other Team 23”. End of losing streak. End of frustration. End of being the girlfriend game, well maybe not the last one.

We sat on the sidelines and soaked in the feel of victory for awhile. I grabbed my phone and fired off a few texts to interested parties. Perhaps they weren’t all that interested, but they got a text message any way.

It didn’t take long for the accolades to come streaming in:

“WOW!!! U guys creamed them! CONGRATS 2 U, UR TEAM, AND UR GOATEE!!!”

-Jill Gorshe

“You really ‘dominated’ them!”

-William McAlpine

“Awesome! As it happens peggy didn’t end up getting the tickets.”

Shannon Bardole

“Congrats!”

-Jen Gorshe

Jay said something cool as well, but I accidentally deleted his text message. Sorry Jay.

Jesse asked very kindly if he could touch a Little Dribbler jersey so he could know what it feels like to touch a winner. I obliged him in this request.

Now that the Little Dribblers are winners, until we take the court again on St. Valentine’s Night, I can post a picture of the Little Dribblers jersey.

I’m sorry, the jerseys are not for sale to the general public.

Birthdays, FNSC, Jay, Willy

Happy Turkey Day!

November 26, 2009 Christopher D. Bennett

This day is often referred to as Turkey Day in the slacker way that some people use to be overly casual about certain events in a weak attempt to display aloofness in the vain hope that they will be perceived as cool.

I am not one of those people. I can not be cool about a day that is as impotant as today. Although Willy has numerous deficiencies and I would be willing to list them for you on almost any day of the week, I do not think that he deserves to be referred to as a turkey. A bird that is both unintelligent and wretched to look at.

Willy is not a turkey. He is not even a jive turkey. Willy is merely Willy and while I have let many an important birthday slip by in the last few months, I cannot stand idly by while a member of FNSC celebrates the anniversary of his birth.

I say to you William McAlpine: Happy Birthday! You are not a turkey. Probably not a wolf either, but certainly not a turkey.

For more quality images of Willy, click on the link below:

William Ernest McAlpine

Old age never looked so good!

Animals, Baier, Basketball, Boone FUMC, Cousin Amy, Derrick, FNSC, Jay, Jen, Logan, Nader, Sara, Scottie D.

The Jupiter Chronicles

November 13, 2009 Christopher D. Bennett

The day before Halloween was a very special Friday Night Supper Club. It was special because I hosted it, The guest list was expanded, we had Casey’s taco pizza and Jay made the dessert.

Why these special things occurred can be traced back to one thing. At that FNSC I took custody of Sara’s pride and joy – Jupiter Moon.

Sara was heading to Florida for a Junck family vacation and she entrusted her 4 year old cockapoo to my care for a week. Sara decided to make the transfer at FNSC. I decided that it would be best if I hosted FNSC so that Jupiter wouldn’t just be dumped into a strange house without any familiar faces. Sara brought some additional familiar faces: Anirban, Cousin Amy, Jen and Derrick.

Jen put in a request for the Casey’s taco pizza and her wish was granted.

At about 11:30 the guests packed up and left Jupiter behind. He was not very happy to be left behind, but it began our week together. A week where I was reminded of the responsibilities of dog ownership that will face me in the spring. A week where I had an opportunity to man Jupiter up, just a slight bit.

The first night was a little bit rough. Neither one of us slept particularly well. Jupiter spent almost the entire night staring at the front door. He would occasionally join me in the bedroom, but he would just stare out my bedroom door for a few seconds and then return to his post in the living room. Staring at the front door.

Jupiter spent most of Saturday morning looking depressed. When Sara texted to ask how he was doing, I responded that he was suffering from Post-Sara Depression.

Sara texted back that she though all creatures suffered from Post-Sara Depression.

I took Jupiter outside and he helped me take down and store all of the yard furniture for the winter.

By the afternoon, Jupiter was less depressed and more or less just subdued. We listened to the Iowa State football game, made spiced apple cider and nachos.

Near the conclusion of the game, Jay came over and started his annual pumpkin carving. Jupiter seemed intrigued by this and enjoyed greeting trick-or-treaters.

After the trick-or-treaters, we watched a couple of old horror movies and went to bed. Jupiter tried to sleep with me, but he wanted to sleep on top of me. He figured out that wasn’t going to work and spent the night on the couch.

On Sunday, I got up early and tailgated for church. Only 3 of us showed up for the tailgate, but the revolution was definitely on. After church, I attended a Methodist Men Board meeting, where we discussed the upcoming chicken noodle brunch.

On my way home, my mom called and asked if I wanted to look over any of grandpa’s tools. I could have any of them that I wanted.

I was planning on taking Jupiter for a walk in the park and I knew that I didn’t want any tools, so I loaded Jupiter in the car for what I thought was going to be a quick look at some tools and then a trip to the park.

As it turns out, this was actually a clean everything out of the garage mission and while I didn’t take any of the tools, I took several things out of the “garbage” pile.

Jupiter got to assist in the manly work of cleaning the garage. Unfortunately, by the time we finished, there was no longer any time for the park. I took Jupiter back home and headed to Prairie City with the Degeneffes to try the state’s reigning tenderloin champ.

Shortly after returning from that pilgrimage, I got my basketball gear together and heading to Ames for our opening games of the Ames Rec League. To start the season, we were schedule a double header!

I got home dog tired. I showered and fell asleep. Jupiter slept that night at my feet.

I always skip bowling on the first Monday of every month for my Trustees meeting. The meeting this month was fairly short. We mostly discussed cutting a pew off at one end and nothing else that I can remember.

After the meeting I took Jupiter for a walk. We walked about 1 mile. He peed (or at least stopped to lift his leg) 12 times.

Tuesday night I took Nader out for his birthday with the Baiers. Because I got home so late, Jupiter and I didn’t do anything manly.

Wednesday night I go to open gym to work on trying to recover some semblance of what used to be my basketball game. I also got home too late to do anything very manly.

Thursday night I took Jupiter to Jen and Derrick’s for a dog playdate with Bailey and Jackson.

Dog playdate didn’t go as well as we had hoped. Jackson and Jupiter seemed to get along well enough. At least they were able to ignore each other. Bailey and Jupiter did not end up being the best of buds. Jupiter was a little growly. This ended in a tiff where Bailey and Jupiter had words. Gyro Guy pizza ended up flying through the air and some smashed into the kitchen wall. A terrible waste.

Derrick took Bailey into the other room and gave her a lecture. I don’t know what he said, but Bailey was on good behavior rest of the night. Jupiter and Bailey never got all that buddy-buddy, but they didn’t come to blows. More importantly, no more Jeff’s Pizza had to be wasted.

On Friday I went to FNSC at Golden Corral. This was the first time that we have ever been to Golden Corral for FNSC. It was okay.

Afterwards, Jay came back to my place and we watched a cheerleader movie with Jupiter. I think this might have undone much of the work I had done in trying to man him up, but Sara insists that cheerleading is a sport, so it it okay.

Saturday morning, we woke up and did a little more work around the yard. I was glad to see that some of my hard work had paid off. Jupiter was actually enjoying being outside now.

I concluded my alone Jupiter time by watching College Game Day with him.

I picked up Logan and went to the Iowa State-Oklahoma State game. After the game, we met up with Sara and Anirban at Great Plains.

Then Sara came back to Boone and re-claimed Jupiter. He is back in Beaverdale, but I am posting a few pictures from his week with me.

On Sunday, when I got home from basketball, it dawned on me that it would have been really nice to have Jupiter waiting to greet me at the back door.

I texted Sara to let her know that I missed Jupiter. She texted me back that he missed me too. I asked her to watch football with him. She declined.

But to honor the week I spent with Jupiter Moon, he has become the first 4 legged creature to be featured in the now defunct Snapshots Gallery.

Candid Portrait, Cousin Amy, Dawn, Event, FNSC, Formal Portrait, Jay, Jaycees, Jen, Music, Sara, Shannon, Teresa, Willy

Bonne Finken

July 10, 2009 Christopher D. Bennett

Friday Night Bonne Finken played Ames on the Half Shell. Here are a couple of images.

For about 50 more images, click on the link below:

Bonne Finken

This Friday the band will be Kountertop.

Andree, Baier, Black & White, Flowers, FNSC, Geri, House, Russell

Cardinalidae

April 26, 2009 Christopher D. Bennett

Last Friday was a busy night for me. I spent the beginning of the evening at a Super Secret Session of FNSC. I can’t really tell you what happened there, because it is a secret.

After our session concluded in a secret manner I made my way over to Terra’s house to celebrate the birth of Geri D.

Her party consisted of much merriment and my complete and total domination of a game called “Apples to Apples”. Maybe that was the name of the game. Either way, the name is secondary to my thorough domination.

When I got home around 1 am I noticed that my garage door was wide open. It is not uncommon for me to leave my garage door open, so I must have done it. But at the time I wondered who had been in my garage. It was a silly thought, considering my nephew Johnathan is the only other soul that knows the security code to get into my garage.

I pulled my car into the garage and got out of my car.

There was a fluttering above my head.

I was excited. I thought I might have a bat in my garage. I like bats. In fact, I wanted to buy a bathouse or two to put up in the yard.

I looked around the garage and finally found the culprit. It was a female cardinal. She was perched on top of my garage door opener.

I was tired, but I made a game effort to shoo her out of the garage, but she wasn’t interested in leaving the garage. So I decided to leave the garage door open for the night.

Sleep came fast on that night and that was a good thing. I had an 8:45 am appointment at Beyer Hall with Baier, Russell and Andree. I was giving them free basketball lessons. They had expressed some interest in knowing how the game is properly played. As their friend, it was my duty to provide such a service.

I overslept on Saturday morning. I barely managed to find basketball clothes and shoes. I put them on and headed out the door.

When I got to the garage I looked around for the bird. I didn’t see her at first, but when I turned around to get into the car I saw her. She was lying dead on top of the old washing machine that I’m storing in the garage.

Since I was already late I decided to deal with the dead bird later.

Basketball went as expected. Admittedly there was a surprise at the beginning. A team of Andree/Russell did shock the team of Baier and I in the first game, but I finished the rest of the day undefeated.

When I got home later in the day, I discovered that I don’t actually own a shovel. So I waited until Sunday to bury the bird.

I dug a hole and threw the bird in it. Then I put an Easter Lily over the top of it.

Now it rained all day Sunday. I was digging a hole and burying a bird in the middle of the night in the middle of a thunderstorm. Jay thought that this must have looked like the beginning of a cheesy horror movie to an outside observer.

All I know is that the bird is buried and the lily is still kicking.

If you need to bury a dead bird, I recommend the middle of a thunderstorm. The ground is nice and wet and the ambiance can’t be beat.

Baier, Basketball, Carla, Dawn, Derrick, Family, FNSC, Jason, Monica, Movies, Music, Scottie D., Shannon, Willy, Writing

Saturday the 14th

March 14, 2009 Christopher D. Bennett

I have one loyal subscriber that incessantly complains whenever I post too many posts without pictures. He often sends me an email that in essence “boos” me.

I usually tell him that he is a big boy now and that he needs to use his words. But I’m quite certain that even he will be happy that this entry does not include any imagery, except whatever your imagination puts into your mind.

This story transpired on Saturday, March 14, 2009. The day after FNSC was victimized by the hype surrounding Black Market Pizza.

I am not saying that Black Market Pizza is to blame for my Saturday, but there was a series of low grade slasher movies that were popular in my youth that centered around Friday the 13th. Invariably, the person that survived the brutal onslaught of Jason Voorhees would wake up on Saturday the 14th thinking that the worst was behind them. They had survived the night. Then Jason or his mom or Tommy Jarvis would jump out of the lake and the nightmare would continue.

I woke up on Saturday the 14th feeling like the horror of Black Market Pizza was behind me. I had big plans for the day. Big plans! I didn’t know that something was still stalking me. Waiting to pounce and ruin my weekend.

Jason was picking me up at 7:30 in the morning so we could head to Best Buy to buy a dishwasher. Afterward, I was going over to my Aunt Lori’s to do my taxes. Then I was meeting Baier at King Buffet for lunch to celebrate the anniversary of his birth. Then I was heading to Rieman Music to see the remodeling work Derrick had done on the store. Then I was hoping to get the dishwasher installed. Then spend the afternoon watching the Cyclone women advance to the Big 12 title game. Then I was going to rest and relax for a bit. Then I was going to go to Shenanigans (yes, regrettably, I was planning on going to a Boone bar) for the birthday party of a friend from high school. The bonus of this party was that Willy was going to be there and he was allegedly going to be in full Dance Machine mode. I have never seen Willy dance, but I have garnered sworn testimony from his friend Kristy over the phone that he does indeed dance. But in the back of my mind, I still believe that he only talks about dancing. I was going to make a brief appearance at this party and then meet Shannon at DG’s to see Otter play. I’m not at liberty to say, but Otter just might be one of the bands that is playing Ames on the Half Shell this summer. I repeat, it was going to be a full day.

It started out well. Jason picked me up and we headed over to Best Buy. I had talked to Scottie D. on Thursday night, when he did expert work running cable to my office and living room, about coming over on Saturday to buy a dishwasher.

I had done some dishwasher research and new that I wanted both a stainless steel outside and a stainless steel inside. The outside is to match the rest of my appliances. The inside is because allegedly polymer tubs wear out rather quickly.

I swear that Scott said to meet him at Best Buy at 8.

At 8:05, we arrived in the Best Buy parking lot. We were greeted by a sign telling us that Best Buy didn’t open until 9. Since we had an hour to kill, I suggested we get some breakfast. I had heard great things about a little breakfast joint in Campustown called Angie’s Kitchen.

We killed an hour there with their food that can be best described as perfectly adequate.

We returned to Best Buy where Scott and I went over all of their dishwashers in stock. As it turned out, they had one dishwasher in stock, but it happened to be the dishwasher that I wanted.

Today was my lucky day.

We loaded the dishwasher up into the back of Carla’s van and headed to Lowe’s to pick up a few plumbing supplies.

When we got back to Boone we unloaded the dishwasher and Jason went to work on installing it. I went over to Lori’s to do my taxes.

It turns out I will be getting a healthy return back. Enough to pay off my electrician, buy a new fridge and perhaps even buy a new camera. One of the great tragedies of 2008 is the fact that I did not buy a new camera all year. I know, brings a tear to the eye.

Today was my lucky day.

I returned home to pick up some stuff I might have needed for the trip to Ames. Jason had already finished installing the dishwasher.

I met Baier at King Buffet. Inexplicably, King Buffet is his favorite restaurant. The food was perfectly adequate and we had a splendid conversation about many of the days hot topic issues.

At the conclusion of our meal I bid Baier a fond aideu and then headed downtown to Rieman Music. Derrick and his minions have done an impressive job of remodeling the store. He has made coves for individual types of products. Plus he painted the place and took down the old town and country border that used to spoil the place. It is very nice, but don’t take my word for it. Head on down and check it out. Buy a trombone or two.

I left Rieman Music and headed for my couch. I didn’t want to miss a moment of the Cyclone women playing the Baylor Bears.

As I sat on my couch I started to feel sick. Although the women were not playing well and would ultimately lose, this was not the type of sickness I feel when I watch the Greg McDermott men play. With the obvious exception of when they played UNI. I felt pretty darn good that night.

After the game concluded, I felt worse. Eventually I got to feeling so bad that I didn’t even want to move from the couch. I sat there watching whatever was on the History Channel.

I had the sensation that I wanted to vomit, but I couldn’t. I checked the time and I sadly realized that I wasn’t going to be leaving this couch on this night. I texted Shannon to let her know that I was shafting out. She texted me back to relay hopes that I feel better at some point in the future.

I put the phone down and laid my head back down on the pillows. At 9:37, I got a text message. Admittedly, I did not know it was 9:37. I thought it was well after 10. I struggled to get up and read my text message.

My expectations were that the text was from Willy saying that he was “setting the dance floor on fire” and wondering if I was making an appearance. The other possibility was that the message was from Shannon letting me know how much fun I was missing.

But the message was from neither. It was from Monica Henning:

Jeff proposed to me tonight on our trip. I said YES. (Then she included an emoticon, but even when I am quoting somebody I can’t bring myself to use an emoticon. But use your imagination. It was a happy emoticon. It probably involved a colon.)

That was a pretty cool development, but I was in so much pain I couldn’t even think straight. I decided to send the congratulations on the morrow. I frequently use the phrase “on the morrow” when I am sick.

I laid my head back down and continued to inbibe what the History Channel was dishing out. What seemed like hours passed. Then something magical happened.

I had spent my free time on Saturday organizing 3 tubs. 1 tub for audio visual cables. 1 tub for computer cables. 1 tub for phone stuff.

The magic happened 4 times into the phone stuff tub. I instantly felt, not so bad. I picked up my cell phone to check the time: 1:45. Too late to drive to Ames or go to Shenanigans. I laid my head back down on the pillow. I was asleep almost instantly. I didn’t wake up for 12 hours.

I talked to Jason the next day. He had also been sick. We both agreed that we wouldn’t be going back to Angie’s Kitchen. I decided that next time I needed to get breakfast in Ames, I would stick with The Grove Cafe.

But I don’t want the tale of Monica’s engagement to be just a footnote to a tale of vomiting on a caller id box. It is pretty exciting that Monica is tying the knot. I heard a poem once and although I definitely didn’t write it, it is what I hope Jeff feels in 50 years.

Anniversary: One Fine Day
by Walter McDonald

Who would sit through a plot as preposterous as ours,
married after years apart? Chance meetings may work
early in stories, but at operas, darling, in Texas?
A bachelor pilot, I fled Laredo for the weekend,
stopping at the opera from boredom, music I least expected.
Of all the zoos and honky-tonks south of Dallas,
who would believe I would find you there on the stairs,

Madame Butterfly about to start? When you moved
four years before, I lost all hope of dying happy,
dogfighting my way through pilot training, reckless,
in terror only when I saw the man beside you.
I had pictured him rich and splendid in my mind
a thousand times, thinking you married with babies
somewhere in Tahiti, Spain, the south of France.

When I saw the lucky devil I hated—only your date,
but I didn’t know—he stopped gloating, watching you wave,
turned old and bitter like the crone in Shangri La.
Destiny happens only in plays and cheap movies—
but here, here on my desk is your photo, decades later,
and I hear sounds from another room of our house,
and when I rise amazed and follow, you are there.