Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Throwback Thursday
Games People Play
I was reminiscing, recently, about the games I used to play as a child. The games that were most memorable were the group games I played with my cousins. We would often get together at my Grandparent's house on Saturday evenings when the families would gather to watch LSU football games. During the games, children were banned from the living room and generally went unsupervised for up to 4 hours at a time. With all that free time, 'kids will be kids'. And we had kids... At times, there were a dozen or more first cousins present, some born into the family and some acquired by other means, but cousins no less. (I had an uncle very actively involved in foster care, shameless plug). So, I figured I'd recall some of the classic games that we would play and give brief descriptions for the uninitiated.
1. Spy
Spy was a favorite amongst the cousins. Here's the synopsis: We would split into two teams, boys vs. girls. Each team would establish a secret 'base'. Each team would develop super secret spy plans. Finally, each team would 'spy' on the other to try to discover the secret base and the secret plans. That's it! Sometimes, this game would go on for hours. It sure seemed more interesting when we were younger, but now it just seems like a silly waste of time. Especially since the secret plans that each team would guard so closely always consisted of establishing a secret base, developing secret plans, and spying on the other team.
2. Colored Chicks
Ahh, the classic game of colored chicks. In this game, we would pick one cousin to be the big, bad wolf, one to be the 'momma hen', and the rest of us would be the colored chicks. To begin, the wolf would hide in seclusion as chicks would discuss colors with the momma hen. Each chick would choose a secret color and should their color be guessed by the wolf, the chick would have to run a designated route, without being captured, and return to the 'nest' for safety. It was a modified Duck-Duck-Goose, in a sense. Once the colors were selected, the wolf would discover the nest and would exchange some cheesy dialogue with the momma hen. The wolf would then begin guessing colors to draw out some tasty chicks. Through the years, we became bored with traditional colors and began to expand our palette. What used to be yellow, blue, red, or purple morphed into mustard, brick, maroon and paisley. Well, that made playing the part of the wolf frustrating, trying to guess all of these hippie colors. The solution was to have family colors. When a family color was called out by the wolf, all of the defenseless chicks had to scramble for their lives. I had an awkward moment a few years back trying to explain this game with a bunch of my National Guard buddies. Now, there are folks of all ethnic groups in my unit, so I drew some strange looks when I explained that I played a game called 'colored chicks' when I was young.
3. Over
Over was one of my all-time favorite games. It was simple, and fun. Basically, we would split the cousins into two teams and each team would gather on one side of my grandparent's house. The point of this game was to throw a ball, any ball that was available, over the house. If the team on the other side is unable to catch the ball, they would take their turn in throwing the ball back over the roof. At some point in the game, a player from one team would eventually catch the ball. When that happened, the game transformed into a fast-paced dodgeball match where the catching team would attack and try to strike as many opposing players with the ball, as they ran for the safety of the opposite side of the house. Now, the teams have changed sides and all players that were hit with the ball join the catching team. Wash, rinse, repeat until one team is eradicated. What made this game especially interesting is the fact that we were limited to whatever ball we could find. Often, the ball was a football. Occasionally, it was a baseball...
4. Science
Kids will be curious and become more so under lack of adult supervision. I always loved a good 'game' of science and as much as my daughter Lilly professes to love science, I am scared for her future... While the adults were mesmerized and transfixed on LSU football, we children could have gotten away with anything, and sometimes did. Anyway, here's how science worked. Old people love Dixie cups and my grandmother was no exception. She always had a cute Dixie cup dispenser in her bathroom. She also had a stockpile of chemicals in there that would have made Dr. Jekyll proud. So, what did we do? Well, we sent a team to grab as many Dixie cups as they could (all of them) and collect samples from every shampoo bottle, deodorant spray can, Avon dispenser, etc... than they could and proudly march them to the utility room! When they got to the utility room, there were Dixie cups prepared with laundry detergents, fabric softeners, bleach, spray lubricants, paints, etc... We would then recruit some minions to fetch from the shed some gasoline, oil, bug spray, etc... Once we had all of our Dixie cup delights spread out on top of the old deep freezer, we would begin our experiments. There was no scientific method to our madness, we simply mixed a little bubble bath with some bleach, added a spritz of Old Spice, a tinge of 10w30, a little WD-40, just a hint of cortisone cream, a dollop of Dawn dish soap, and some zest of Zest. If it didn't look cool, we would pour it down the drain. If it did look cool, we would apply it to every living creature, plant or animal, that we could find. We never really got any compelling results, but we did turn part of an elephant ear leaf pink, once. I never did get that chemistry set I always wanted as a kid...
I was reminiscing, recently, about the games I used to play as a child. The games that were most memorable were the group games I played with my cousins. We would often get together at my Grandparent's house on Saturday evenings when the families would gather to watch LSU football games. During the games, children were banned from the living room and generally went unsupervised for up to 4 hours at a time. With all that free time, 'kids will be kids'. And we had kids... At times, there were a dozen or more first cousins present, some born into the family and some acquired by other means, but cousins no less. (I had an uncle very actively involved in foster care, shameless plug). So, I figured I'd recall some of the classic games that we would play and give brief descriptions for the uninitiated.
1. Spy
Spy was a favorite amongst the cousins. Here's the synopsis: We would split into two teams, boys vs. girls. Each team would establish a secret 'base'. Each team would develop super secret spy plans. Finally, each team would 'spy' on the other to try to discover the secret base and the secret plans. That's it! Sometimes, this game would go on for hours. It sure seemed more interesting when we were younger, but now it just seems like a silly waste of time. Especially since the secret plans that each team would guard so closely always consisted of establishing a secret base, developing secret plans, and spying on the other team.
2. Colored Chicks
Ahh, the classic game of colored chicks. In this game, we would pick one cousin to be the big, bad wolf, one to be the 'momma hen', and the rest of us would be the colored chicks. To begin, the wolf would hide in seclusion as chicks would discuss colors with the momma hen. Each chick would choose a secret color and should their color be guessed by the wolf, the chick would have to run a designated route, without being captured, and return to the 'nest' for safety. It was a modified Duck-Duck-Goose, in a sense. Once the colors were selected, the wolf would discover the nest and would exchange some cheesy dialogue with the momma hen. The wolf would then begin guessing colors to draw out some tasty chicks. Through the years, we became bored with traditional colors and began to expand our palette. What used to be yellow, blue, red, or purple morphed into mustard, brick, maroon and paisley. Well, that made playing the part of the wolf frustrating, trying to guess all of these hippie colors. The solution was to have family colors. When a family color was called out by the wolf, all of the defenseless chicks had to scramble for their lives. I had an awkward moment a few years back trying to explain this game with a bunch of my National Guard buddies. Now, there are folks of all ethnic groups in my unit, so I drew some strange looks when I explained that I played a game called 'colored chicks' when I was young.
3. Over
Over was one of my all-time favorite games. It was simple, and fun. Basically, we would split the cousins into two teams and each team would gather on one side of my grandparent's house. The point of this game was to throw a ball, any ball that was available, over the house. If the team on the other side is unable to catch the ball, they would take their turn in throwing the ball back over the roof. At some point in the game, a player from one team would eventually catch the ball. When that happened, the game transformed into a fast-paced dodgeball match where the catching team would attack and try to strike as many opposing players with the ball, as they ran for the safety of the opposite side of the house. Now, the teams have changed sides and all players that were hit with the ball join the catching team. Wash, rinse, repeat until one team is eradicated. What made this game especially interesting is the fact that we were limited to whatever ball we could find. Often, the ball was a football. Occasionally, it was a baseball...
4. Science
Kids will be curious and become more so under lack of adult supervision. I always loved a good 'game' of science and as much as my daughter Lilly professes to love science, I am scared for her future... While the adults were mesmerized and transfixed on LSU football, we children could have gotten away with anything, and sometimes did. Anyway, here's how science worked. Old people love Dixie cups and my grandmother was no exception. She always had a cute Dixie cup dispenser in her bathroom. She also had a stockpile of chemicals in there that would have made Dr. Jekyll proud. So, what did we do? Well, we sent a team to grab as many Dixie cups as they could (all of them) and collect samples from every shampoo bottle, deodorant spray can, Avon dispenser, etc... than they could and proudly march them to the utility room! When they got to the utility room, there were Dixie cups prepared with laundry detergents, fabric softeners, bleach, spray lubricants, paints, etc... We would then recruit some minions to fetch from the shed some gasoline, oil, bug spray, etc... Once we had all of our Dixie cup delights spread out on top of the old deep freezer, we would begin our experiments. There was no scientific method to our madness, we simply mixed a little bubble bath with some bleach, added a spritz of Old Spice, a tinge of 10w30, a little WD-40, just a hint of cortisone cream, a dollop of Dawn dish soap, and some zest of Zest. If it didn't look cool, we would pour it down the drain. If it did look cool, we would apply it to every living creature, plant or animal, that we could find. We never really got any compelling results, but we did turn part of an elephant ear leaf pink, once. I never did get that chemistry set I always wanted as a kid...
Monday, June 28, 2010
Memory Lane Monday
Things I Miss About Living in Gulfport, MS pt. 1
The Characters
My Wife Melissa and I moved to Gulfport, Ms in early 2001 due to a job transfer and we stayed there until hurricane Katrina blew us back to Baton Rouge. There were many things we enjoyed about living in Gulfport, but we truly enjoyed the interesting cast of characters that we came to know and love. Ok, we avoided close contact with some of them like the plague, but still enjoyed out encounters from afar. I will list and briefy describe some of the most colorful characters that are now branded in my mind for eternity.
The 'Rock-Rock Man"
The Rock-Rock Man was frequently spotted on Three Rivers Rd. riding his bicycle, sporting his 'Jew-fro' and totally rocking out to his Sony Walkman cassette player from 1983. He possessed not only the unique skill of riding his bicycle with no hands, but could also play air guitar and bang his head like an epileptic Beavis or Butt-Head. He was always a welcome sight between Creosote and Dedeaux Rd.
The "Bop-Bop" Man
My first encounter with the Bop-Bop Man nearly ended in cardiac arrest. It was a nice day and I was doing something on the porch of our rent house on 17th St., also known as Park Blvd. I'm not sure why, but we did technically have two physical addresses. Anyway, I was enjoying my day on the front porch when my heart skipped a beat as I heard the first, earsplitting "BOP!". Then, he rattled off a few more "BOPS" in hard, staccato, machine-gun fashion. The best way I can describe it is to imagine if one of the Hanson brothers caught an acute case of Tourette's syndrome during an encore of MMMBOP. This continued as he walked past the house, apparently unaware that he was making any vocalizations, whatsoever. The Bop-Bop Man took frequent, unexpected walks past the house. His strolls usually occurred on Sundays, during naps, while babies slept, etc...
The Butt Snatchers
Ok, it's not what you think. Or, at least not what I think you may think. The casinos were present on the Mississippi Gulf Coast before Melissa and I arrived and I had heard it mentioned that with casinos comes an expected homeless population. Any-who, I'm not sure whether the Butt-Snatchers were homeless, poor, resourceful, or just downright disgusting. What I do know is that there was pure joy on their faces as they scoured the public ashtrays looking for cigarette butts with any trace of tobacco left. Typically, I would notice them in pairs, a male and a female. They both had purses, in which they stored their nicotine booty. They would only occasionally light up their finds at the ashtray, but would usually stash the butts in their purses for later enjoyment. I don't know, maybe the hocked them at the 24 hour pawn shops. These little fellows were a treat to watch, none-the-less.
The Squatters
I always had a lot of respect for the Edgewater Squatters. They were very clever and resourceful. See, when Melissa and I first moved to Gulfport, we lived at the Edgewater III Apartments on Beach Blvd. Unfortunately, they no longer exist, thanks to the aforementioned hurricane. Anyway, we had always noticed the little dome tent that set just behind the billboard that was next to the apartment complex adjacent to the Edgewater III. What we didn't know at the time was that the guys living in the tent were stealing electricity from the billboard and cable from one of the apartments. All this and beachfront property. Ahh, the American dream!
"Happy Tuesday" Lady
Ahhh, the Happy Tuesday Lady... There was an easily recognizably lady that lived in downtown Gulfport that we affectionately dubbed Happy Tuesday. She was an elderly black lady that lived a few blocks from our rent house on 17th St./Park Blvd. She typically wore a red suit and matching facial make-up (lipstick, stuff on her checks that could have also been lipstick, eyeliner that also could have been lipstck). What made her really special is that she would always give an exuberant greeting with the incorrect day of the week. If it was Saturday, you might hear a boisterous "Happy Tuesday!" Of course, it was very slow and drawn out as if she had been drinking, but I am certain this was not the case. In fact, she sounded very much like Mr. Hanky, the Christmas Poo. My wife Melissa shared a special encounter with the Happy Tuesday Lady one weekend in Downtown Gulfport. She happened on a fender bender a few blocks from the house and those involved were trying to make sense of the situation as Happy Tuesday was proudly proclaiming "Happy 4th of July!" at the top of her lungs! I think it was the weekend of Valentine's Day...
I miss Gulfport and will always consider it my second home. Next time, I'll tell the story of my Flaming Ford Ranger Fireball of Fury.
The Characters
My Wife Melissa and I moved to Gulfport, Ms in early 2001 due to a job transfer and we stayed there until hurricane Katrina blew us back to Baton Rouge. There were many things we enjoyed about living in Gulfport, but we truly enjoyed the interesting cast of characters that we came to know and love. Ok, we avoided close contact with some of them like the plague, but still enjoyed out encounters from afar. I will list and briefy describe some of the most colorful characters that are now branded in my mind for eternity.
The 'Rock-Rock Man"
The Rock-Rock Man was frequently spotted on Three Rivers Rd. riding his bicycle, sporting his 'Jew-fro' and totally rocking out to his Sony Walkman cassette player from 1983. He possessed not only the unique skill of riding his bicycle with no hands, but could also play air guitar and bang his head like an epileptic Beavis or Butt-Head. He was always a welcome sight between Creosote and Dedeaux Rd.
The "Bop-Bop" Man
My first encounter with the Bop-Bop Man nearly ended in cardiac arrest. It was a nice day and I was doing something on the porch of our rent house on 17th St., also known as Park Blvd. I'm not sure why, but we did technically have two physical addresses. Anyway, I was enjoying my day on the front porch when my heart skipped a beat as I heard the first, earsplitting "BOP!". Then, he rattled off a few more "BOPS" in hard, staccato, machine-gun fashion. The best way I can describe it is to imagine if one of the Hanson brothers caught an acute case of Tourette's syndrome during an encore of MMMBOP. This continued as he walked past the house, apparently unaware that he was making any vocalizations, whatsoever. The Bop-Bop Man took frequent, unexpected walks past the house. His strolls usually occurred on Sundays, during naps, while babies slept, etc...
The Butt Snatchers
Ok, it's not what you think. Or, at least not what I think you may think. The casinos were present on the Mississippi Gulf Coast before Melissa and I arrived and I had heard it mentioned that with casinos comes an expected homeless population. Any-who, I'm not sure whether the Butt-Snatchers were homeless, poor, resourceful, or just downright disgusting. What I do know is that there was pure joy on their faces as they scoured the public ashtrays looking for cigarette butts with any trace of tobacco left. Typically, I would notice them in pairs, a male and a female. They both had purses, in which they stored their nicotine booty. They would only occasionally light up their finds at the ashtray, but would usually stash the butts in their purses for later enjoyment. I don't know, maybe the hocked them at the 24 hour pawn shops. These little fellows were a treat to watch, none-the-less.
The Squatters
I always had a lot of respect for the Edgewater Squatters. They were very clever and resourceful. See, when Melissa and I first moved to Gulfport, we lived at the Edgewater III Apartments on Beach Blvd. Unfortunately, they no longer exist, thanks to the aforementioned hurricane. Anyway, we had always noticed the little dome tent that set just behind the billboard that was next to the apartment complex adjacent to the Edgewater III. What we didn't know at the time was that the guys living in the tent were stealing electricity from the billboard and cable from one of the apartments. All this and beachfront property. Ahh, the American dream!
"Happy Tuesday" Lady
Ahhh, the Happy Tuesday Lady... There was an easily recognizably lady that lived in downtown Gulfport that we affectionately dubbed Happy Tuesday. She was an elderly black lady that lived a few blocks from our rent house on 17th St./Park Blvd. She typically wore a red suit and matching facial make-up (lipstick, stuff on her checks that could have also been lipstick, eyeliner that also could have been lipstck). What made her really special is that she would always give an exuberant greeting with the incorrect day of the week. If it was Saturday, you might hear a boisterous "Happy Tuesday!" Of course, it was very slow and drawn out as if she had been drinking, but I am certain this was not the case. In fact, she sounded very much like Mr. Hanky, the Christmas Poo. My wife Melissa shared a special encounter with the Happy Tuesday Lady one weekend in Downtown Gulfport. She happened on a fender bender a few blocks from the house and those involved were trying to make sense of the situation as Happy Tuesday was proudly proclaiming "Happy 4th of July!" at the top of her lungs! I think it was the weekend of Valentine's Day...
I miss Gulfport and will always consider it my second home. Next time, I'll tell the story of my Flaming Ford Ranger Fireball of Fury.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Sarcasm Saturday!
After much thought and deliberation, I've decided to start a blog. I've struggled with the purpose of my blog, and have come to decide that it shall be multi-purpose. It shall be funny, serious, enlightening, educational, and intelligent. Oh, and should make me lots of money. Blogging is, after all, a get-rich-quick scheme is it not?
Anyway, I'm thinking that each day might get it's own theme and today, and future Saturday's, will be known as 'Sarcasm Saturday'. I just 'lurve' me some sarcasms. So, today's first topic will be a touchy topic. Well, maybe not so 'touchy'.
"Trucksticles".
Why does anyone think that their automobile needs a set of genitalia?!? And why, more specifically, male genitalia? (more about this later) Do these mal-mannered motorists feel the need for molded man mounds to better relate to their vehicles? Does it help them to personify their rides? Why do people do this? Let's explore some possible reasons:
1. They Just Look "Cool"
"Yep, that there's my truck. Notice his do-dadz?", Nick points and proudly exclaims as he meets his fiance's grandparents for the first time.
2. They're "Manly"
"Yeah, I just love admiring a great set of testicles, don't you?", Robert asks inquisitively of his his friends as they drink beer outside of the local Wal Mart.
3. They're "Funny"
"Her reaction just cracks me up!", Jared exclaims, much to her mother's discontent, of the 5 year old child batting his vehicle's private parts around.
4. They're Anatomically Correct
Yeah, if your truck was Richard Simmons!!!
5. They're Perfectly Acceptable In Today's Society
"Thank you, sir, for the job interview. Oh, that's me in the four wheel drive Dodge Ram, painted in Rhino Liner with the 'Get-R-Done' sticker and the flesh-tone truck nads, with realistic 'veining'. I'll be anxiously awaiting you decision on the branch office manager position", Stewart said, excitedly, as he shook Mr. Mahoney's hand vigorously.
And lastly, why do all trucks have to be male? Why don't the makers of the prosthetic genitalia for vehicles make female products? Why are there no truck girlie bits? For years, musicians have named their instruments of choice after women and it's been right. BB King has had a long standing relationship with his Gibson ES-355 variant, Lucille. It just wouldn't be the same if he had been caressing 'Luther' on stage all these years. If that was the case, I'd have to say the thrill was gone a looong time ago. So, do these truck nutz fans name their rides? "Come on, Daryl! Let's jump in sweet Bruce here and go get dirty!" What?!? "I mean, let's go mud riding, grunt, grunt!" Besides, if all trucks were males, how would they reproduce? Asexually?
Remember...
Friends don't let friends put 'do-dads' on their trucks...
Anyway, I'm thinking that each day might get it's own theme and today, and future Saturday's, will be known as 'Sarcasm Saturday'. I just 'lurve' me some sarcasms. So, today's first topic will be a touchy topic. Well, maybe not so 'touchy'.
"Trucksticles".
Why does anyone think that their automobile needs a set of genitalia?!? And why, more specifically, male genitalia? (more about this later) Do these mal-mannered motorists feel the need for molded man mounds to better relate to their vehicles? Does it help them to personify their rides? Why do people do this? Let's explore some possible reasons:
1. They Just Look "Cool"
"Yep, that there's my truck. Notice his do-dadz?", Nick points and proudly exclaims as he meets his fiance's grandparents for the first time.
2. They're "Manly"
"Yeah, I just love admiring a great set of testicles, don't you?", Robert asks inquisitively of his his friends as they drink beer outside of the local Wal Mart.
3. They're "Funny"
"Her reaction just cracks me up!", Jared exclaims, much to her mother's discontent, of the 5 year old child batting his vehicle's private parts around.
4. They're Anatomically Correct
Yeah, if your truck was Richard Simmons!!!
5. They're Perfectly Acceptable In Today's Society
"Thank you, sir, for the job interview. Oh, that's me in the four wheel drive Dodge Ram, painted in Rhino Liner with the 'Get-R-Done' sticker and the flesh-tone truck nads, with realistic 'veining'. I'll be anxiously awaiting you decision on the branch office manager position", Stewart said, excitedly, as he shook Mr. Mahoney's hand vigorously.
And lastly, why do all trucks have to be male? Why don't the makers of the prosthetic genitalia for vehicles make female products? Why are there no truck girlie bits? For years, musicians have named their instruments of choice after women and it's been right. BB King has had a long standing relationship with his Gibson ES-355 variant, Lucille. It just wouldn't be the same if he had been caressing 'Luther' on stage all these years. If that was the case, I'd have to say the thrill was gone a looong time ago. So, do these truck nutz fans name their rides? "Come on, Daryl! Let's jump in sweet Bruce here and go get dirty!" What?!? "I mean, let's go mud riding, grunt, grunt!" Besides, if all trucks were males, how would they reproduce? Asexually?
Remember...
Friends don't let friends put 'do-dads' on their trucks...
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