U-Hauls, muscle cars, stump rot, and cooking

I'm not really sure when this turned into The Weekly Redneck Digest of Meat, Fire, Motorcycles, and Women, but it has. And I'm okay with that. I kind of like not touching my computer for a week.

So first, a story. Get used to it, I tell a lot of stories. Yesterday at the light rail Park&Ride I saw a U-Haul. Yes, a big ass van, which you can now rent for $20 a day. This made me wonder, why would anyone rent a U-Haul and then take the train to get someplace? They're obviously not moving. Then it hit me. You get headroom, space for passengers and stuff, lots of power, and it's in good condition (generally). If you get in a car wreck and have to rent without a reservation, you can only get a compact car for that price. How shameless do you have to be to rent a U-Haul as a daily driver while the shop fixes up your ride? Well, it takes a lot of nerve. I like the idea. I don't like having to ride around in an underpowered Japanese econobox, hitting my head on the rear window (all 5'4" of me) when someone else is in shotgun. That's when I miss my full-size ride, even with it's little gremlins. Those gremlins don't whack you in the head and cramp your legs. If you rent a U-Haul as a daily driver when you're not moving, you're redneck. Face it, buddy. You ought to be on a Budweiser Real Men of Genius ad. High-five.

Another story. I still have an original Xbox. I still use it. I just found my favorite game, Sega GT 2002. It had fallen behind the TV. So you ain't going to see much of my ass for a while. Send me a suggestion or comment and I'll get back to you, but only after I'm done dragging my 427, 814 horse blown '70 Chevelle. If they had Xbox live for this, I wouldn't even be going to class. Or work. You'd have to roll a grenade under my chair to get me out of there.

So I listed fire in my new description of my blog. Why? I love fire. I love watching fire. I love improving fire. I love cooking with fire. I ran into some of my old friends last weekend, and guess what we did? Yep, fire. They like to take Purell, spread it on newspaper, light it, and then scatter powder such as non-dairy creamer into the fire (like a grain-dust explosion). Not being the criminal sort, they do this on their own property on concrete. But, see, I knew we could do better. Bigger, longer-lasting fire can be achieved with rubbing alcohol. You can burn more stuff, hotter, with stump rot. Oxidizers are fun. Colors can get involved with barium, for example. You can blow things up with just rubbing alcohol. We like blowing things up, but we'll do that later. Turning a soda bottle into a gumball cannon, though, was pretty badass. We had fun with that. That's just our competitive nature: take something cool that they've done and do it better. They're probably working on something cooler right now. I'm okay with that.

So, women. One of my favorite subjects. This is going to have to be a separate post-- I've got a lot to say, but I can't think of any of it.

Motorcycles: For a few years now I've been telling my dad to excavate his crap out of the garage so we can get his motorcycles running again. Given that he's finally started listening to me about "we are going to get at least one of them restored and running before I turn 16," that looks like that could actually happen. Whoo. Classic Massachusetts iron. I also am in the market for a used dirtbike. Just FYI, if anyone happens to have one laying around in the Denver area.

Meat: I feel guilty that my friend has decided to blog about fish (God knows why), has nothing fish-related to talk about, and I know more than I should about fish. I know more than I should about a lot of things. So, here we are. One way to fish in shallow, narrow streams is to spot your dinner, sneak downstream of it, and build a rock dam all the way across the water flow. All the way. If the fish can get out downstream, you're going to be going hungry, so get it right. No need to stop the water, just make sure there are no fish-sized holes. Now, grab a big stick and sneak up (really quiet) behind the fish. Make sure your shadow never goes over or in front of it. Now, whack. Yes, whack the fish. Get it out of the water as quick as possible, too. Once you've got ahold of it and have it on shore, no need to be cruel, put the injured soon-to-be dinner down and clobber his head with a rock. No pain, instant death. Anything over three inches should be gutted. Cook and enjoy (or eat raw--I reccommend cooked). When you're done, don't be an asshole, dismantle the dam. Chuck Norris will come find you otherwise. Now copy-paste, I insist.

Also, more useless fish knowledge: Some salt-water fish are poisonous, but all freshwater fish are edible.

More food: Yes, I'm writing while hungry, can't you tell? In consideration of my readers who stick to a more suburban diet, I promise I won't discuss how tasty pigeon is, or how to cook snake, not in this post. Anyway, I've noticed that when I'm only getting food for myself, I'm a very simple person. If I want beans and ham, I'll open a can of Busch's Maple-Bacon Baked Beans (put 'em on top of your head and your tounge will beat your brains out trying to get to it), open a package of sliced ham, put the ham in the can, turn on the stove (or light a fire), and cook them both at once. Then I'll eat out of the can. But when I'm cooking for other people, I get fancy. I can get real fancy. When I make hamburgers and take them in my lunch, I literally have to fight people off, it looks and smells that good. When we have company I'll cook anything that we have on hand to order. I know a lot of recipes that are just "yeah, that looks about right", but folks love when I'm the grillmaster at the 4th of July barbeque. Seriously, come over sometime and I'll make you apple pie over a wood fire and you will want seconds.

When I'm on my own, if I want mushrooms I'll grab some mushrooms out the fridge, add butter and microwave. If I'm making mushrooms for you, you're getting sautee'd mushrooms in a freakin' root beer-pineapple glaze and carmelized apricots. I can't help it. I don't know where I got this tendency from. it's freaking me out.

The best idea I've EVER had

Well, maybe it's not. A lot of things look like a great idea until I think them through. Then I usually realize that it won't work, I'm too lazy, or it'll probably get me arrested. But I'm going to write down this idea before that moment of enlightenment comes.

Let me set the scene. I live on a hill. A hellishly steep hill. You know, the one that goes from Alameda to Highway 285? Well, if you are ever in Denver, you know what I'm talking about. Everything for a few miles is tilted at an angle, rendering it impossible to get home in the winter, play basketball in your driveway, get into your driveway at all, or find level land that's not privately owned for miles around. You can get on a bicycle at my house and get a speeding ticket before you get to the grocery store, if you are a speed demon and don't use the brakes. I've come real close. But see, the problem is getting home.

You can't ride a bike back up this hill. I don't care who you are, you can be a champion Tour De France mountain rider and you will be stopping for breath before you are halfway home. There is no way to get enough torque, even if you get a flying start and stand on the freaking pedals. Last year I decided to pull one of the big gears off of the front of my bike and stick it on the rear, giving me a much lower gear ratio. I still walked the bloody thing home. I'm getting real sick of this.

I know it's still winter and all and I should be complaining about powersliding onto the lawn when trying to park in the driveway, but I kind of enjoy when my dad does that, and we haven't had enough snow to cause that recently. I've been working under the assumption that it's summer for the past few weeks, and I'll be doing that until it actually is.

Anyway, my new master plan involves the weedwhacker in the shed. I know that this probably is a very bad idea, but what better way to get into trouble over the summer? That's what summers are for.

I really wish my dad had ever taught me bicycle maintenance, but I guess I can't hold it against him. He grew up in steeper country than me. I don't know if bicycle maintenance is a subject he never learned, or if he just never shared it with me. Anyway, being almost totally pedal-bike-illiterate and yet being a gearhead with a love for motorcycles, my solutions are trial and error (mostly error). I know I can solve my problem with what I have on hand, I just can't figure out how. And, when all else fails, add a motor with enough torque to help me get home.

You have no idea how tempting it is just to take the Kowasaki to wherever I'm going.

But I know that would be cheating, get me grounded, probably arrested, and it hasn't run since the '80s.

So I'm back to working out a solution to my problem while keeping my bicycle primarily human-powered. My lastest theory is to take the 12-volt motor from our weedwhacker and gear it onto the sumnabitch. Silent, lots of torque, and it's not like we really needed that weedwhacker.

Now I'm going to bed before I stop and realize that there's SO many things wrong with that idea. G'night ya'll.

Warning: Unauthorized cars will be shot

This is a zoomed-in portion of a photo of some grafitti on a brick wall out back of what appears to be a warehouse. The graffiti in question says "Whatever you destroy we'll create it again." That's all meaningful and deep and stuff, but I couldn't help but notice the sign on the wall.

Unauthorized cars will be towed away and shot.

Welcome to our little corner of the world, where if it sits still long enough, it's probably a target.

Rest in peace

I have just learned that my friend Don Henderson's mother died this past Sunday, February 10th. I ask that he and his family be in your thoughts, prayers, and whatever else all ya'll do to try to will something to happen. He will be taking a break from posting his vector artwork as arrangements are made and mourning is done. I encourage you to check out his art at that link, you'll be blown away.

Now, I'm not really that into the Bible and religion and all that as a literal truth, but I do find that the cultural effects of religion, even if it's over a false idol, can be very beneficial. Just because I'm not convinced about God and Jesus does not mean that I don't try to live by the 10 commandments, or I won't recite the Lord's Prayer before emarking on a particularly risky activity. Even if there's nothing on the other side of this life, you can still be a better overall person on this side by listening to parts of what the Bible says. Just because there may not be an actual God or He may not grant what you ask for does not mean that it won't help you get through a trying time by unloading your issues on Him and asking for help. You could be suprised how often help does come in one form or another. It's up to you to decide where that help came from. Just knowing that many people are united in support of you can work wonders. So with that in mind, let me offer this.

Lord, we ask that you accept Mrs. Henderson into an eternal life in Your kingdom. And please be with all of the people that have been touched by her passing, but were touched even more by her life. We did not know her, but if her son is any indication, she was a good mother and a good woman. Thank you for helping her through her recent surgery and giving her that much more time with the people she cared about. Now that you have called Mrs. Henderson to be with You among the blessed and the righteous, though all the people she touched are saddened, please give them closure and the strength to carry on.

Rest in peace, Mrs. Henderson. You will be missed.

Amen.

Salt of the Earth

Every good redneck needs a kickass belt buckle. Wait, that's not true. I ain't good, and there are probably some good redneck folks who just haven't found the perfect chunk of metal. Well, look no farther. The people of B & K Rocky Mountain Enterprises can help you out.

If any of you want an explanation on why we wear a quarter-pound of brass just above our groin as a status symbol, well that's your problem. No, I'm kidding. That really does confound some people. First of all, you have to understand that the redneck man's idea of lookin' good and the non-redneck's idea of looking good are fundamentally different. Some of us rednecks have no fashion sense (check Wal-Mart). Jeff Foxworthy has put together a list of tips to help those rednecks with their problem. For the rest of us, t-shirts change from day to day (right, people?), pants change when they get dirty, hats are intermittent, coats are either too hot or too cold, but no matter what, you are ALWAYS wearing a belt. And you gotta fasten it. The belt buckle is the item of apparel that sums up who you are or what your greatest acomplishment is. Looking at a redneck man is like reading the tech sheet for a custom motorcycle. Look at a redneck man when he's dressed casual, and you will be able to tell from his belt buckle if he's ever won anything, and if not, what his passion in life is. You will be able to tell from his t-shirt what kind of truck he drives, what radio station he listens to, who his favorite band is, who he roots for in NASCAR, or where he went on vacation one of the past 21 summers, depending on the day. (If you ever see a t-shirt that says "I've been to timberline and it looked just like a dirt parking lot" ask him what shop he got it at). If he's wearing a hat, you'll be able to tell what redneck culture he fits in with best, what kind of vehicle he drives, or what his favorite sport to attend is. If he's wearing a jacket, you'll know what he smokes or what his favorite sports team is. Whether or not his belt matches the color of his shoes tells you if he gives a rip about what you'll think of him.

But like I said, it's his belt buckle that will tell you the most about him.

B & K is a real mom & pop company, run by good, salt of the earth people. Your belt buckle ever breaks, you ship it to them and they'll fix it for ya. Because even though that may not be good business (not charging for it and all), that's being a good person. That's integrity, standing by your product.

They sell some of the most fantastic belt buckles I've ever seen. You can profess your love for America, your love for freedom in general, your love of American motorcycles, your love for fishing, or your love for cars, among other things. Guess which one I own and wear (hint: check my profile picture).

If you're not in Denver, call and ask about the belt buckles they sell and how you can get one at one of these numbers. 303-798-6718 or 303-730-2067. Please remember that it's very bad form to call outside of traditional business hours and that those will be calculated for the mountain time zone.

I'm definitely a Coloradan

And damn proud of it. But, anyway, I'm not here to profess why I love my home state so much, not in this post. Im here to talk about what I just got in email. I'm too lazy to verify if he actually said any of this stuff, but the following are attributed to Jeff Foxworthy.

_____________________________________

Jeff Foxworthy on Colorado .

( It was only a matter of time before Jeff Foxworthy took a couple of shots at Colorado !)

You are a Coloradoan if ............

1. You switch from 'Heat' to 'A/C' in one day.

2. You know what the ' Peoples Republic of Boulder' means.

3. Your sense of direction is: towards the mountains and away from the mountains.

4. You're a meat-eating vegetarian.

5. The bike on your car is worth more than your car and you have your own special bike lane.

6. You're able to drive 65 miles per hour through 13 feet of snow during a raging blizzard without even flinching.

7. You take your out-of-town guests to Casa Bonita even though you would never go there otherwise.

8. You think your major food groups are granola bars, tofu and Fat Tire Beer.

9. You design your kid's Halloween costumes to fit over a snowsuit.

10. You think that sexy lingerie is wool socks and flannel PJs.

11. You know all 4 seasons 'almost winter, winter, still winter and spring blizzards

12. You've been tear gassed in a riot to celebrate a CU/CSU victory.

13. You can never figure out why your out-of-town guests faint from altitude sickness on a picnic to the mountains.

14. You can drive over a 12,000-foot pass in 4 feet of snow, but can't get to work if there are 4 inches of snow.

15. You know the 'correct' pronunciation of Buena Vista .

16. When you visit friends at sea level, you can drink a case of beer and not get a buzz.

17. Your car insurance costs more than your car.

18. You have surge protectors on every outlet.

19. April showers bring May blizzards.

20. 'Timberline' is someplace you have actually been.

21. You know what a 'Chinook' is

22. You know what a ' Rocky Mountain Oyster' is.

23. You know what a 'fourteener' is.

24. .But you don't know what a 'turn signal' is.

25. A bear on your front porch doesn't bother you nearly as much as a Democrat in Congress does.

26. Your golf bag has a 9-iron, a 3-wood and a lightning rod.

27. People from out of state breathe 5 times as often as you do.

28. Having a Senator named Nighthorse doesn't seem strange.

29. Thunder has set off your car alarm.

30. You have an $800 stereo in your $300 truck.

31. You think a red light means 3 more cars can go.

32. Where we're going, we don't need roads!!

33. You know where the real ' South Park ' is.

34. You can recognize the license plates of all 50 states on sight.

35. Driving directions usually include 'Go over_________ Pass. '

36. You've checked for ticks.

37. You've dressed in shorts, sandals, and a parka with a hood.

38. You've gone snow skiing in July and.........

39. You've played golf in January and.......

40. They were in the same year!

41. You've urinated on the Continental Divide just so it could run into both oceans.

42. You know what a down slope and an up slope weather pattern is.

43. And the most important: You get a certain feeling of satisfaction from knowing that California and Texas are both down stream.

44. You have barbequed in ski gear

45. You actually understand these jokes

_____________________________________

I am now going to list which ones apply to myself or to people I know.

1. It happens a lot.

2. Yes, I do, and I find it to be a yuppie term for a yuppie community that really isn't like what it looks like to snarky suburbanites. Not that I dislike Boulder, I just wanted to make that clear.

3. That's 100% true. I went on vacation to Idaho last summer, tripped me out. I nearly got 180 degrees backwards a few times, and other times I had to wait for the sun to visibly move in order to figure out which way was which. All ya'll mountain rednecks know what I mean. I know where I am in Colorado and which way I'm facing just based off of a few mountain peaks.

4. Once my cousin told me about why she's a vegetarian.... over dinner at a steakhouse.

6. That's how my parents moved back to Colorado. During a blizzard on Ratton Pass.

7. A lot of people can vouch for that.

8. I object to this one and the stereotyping of all Coloradans as neo-hippies. I also resent the stereotype of hippies that you're using. However, this one fits my 7th grade science teacher to a "t."

9. I went as the Abominable Snowman one year. I was going to be Chewbacca, but the snow had other plans.

10. Don't knock it until you've been that cold. If it's that cold in the house and my girl came to bed wearing wool socks and flannel PJs, I'd be like, "yes."

11. True. Horribly, horribly true, but not funny. You forgot the fifth season, though: hot as hell. It goes like this: Winter, still winter, spring blizzards, hot as hell, almost winter again.

13. No, I can't figure that out. My solution, though, is to bring a small oxygen cylinder like for oxyacetelyne welding and have them open that up into a bag and breathe into that for a while. That's what I, a 5280-footer, had to do when I hauled my cameras up to 13,500 feet for the Pike's Peak Hill Climb, on foot from 13,000.

14. Hey, you get an excuse, you use it.

15. Yeah, I do. You got a problem with that?

16. I haven't tried it with beer, but I do know that I'm like a freakin' fish at sea level. I can barely do 30 seconds here holding my breath, but in the ocean I can pull closer to a minute and a quarter.

17. Hey, it's the hailstorm's fault that the car's totaled, not mine.

18. I have expensive electronics, I live on a high high pont in a lightning-prone area. That's just common sense.

19. Like I've been telling anyone who asks about the weather, I am now going to just labor under the delusion that it's summer until it actually is, even if I can't feel my hands when I go outside. If winter needs to reach me, I'll be ignoring the May blizzard.

20. Yeah, you got a problem with that? Driving up to timberline counts as a white-trash Colorado vacation.

21. Grumble grumble grumble grrr.

22. And it's fun to tell the ignorant what they are after they've eaten a few. That said, rocky mountain oysters are tasty, as long as they're well-cooked and you don't stop and think about what it is.

23. Doesn't everyone?

24. That's my mom. She signals after she's already halfway in the lane.

25. Congress itself bothers me, not just one party. But yes, a bear on my front porch wouldn't really bother me. I practically grew up in the mountains of Cascade, what do you expect?

26. I've seen it.

27. That's true, man. I hadn't really noticed until we flew back from sea level one time and I could barely walk a few blocks without sitting down.

28. Nor does meeting a man whose driver's liscense actually listed his name as "Drillbit" at the gas station one time. He smoked Camels, looked to be as old as the hills, and still got carded. Go figure.

29. Thunder, lightning, and one time, hail.

33. Yeah, I do. Luckily, it's not like the other one.

34. Just about.

35. Yeah, they do, and I'll write them on a napkin for ya. If you're nice I'll even tell you if the pass in question is closed.

36. That's just logic, man.

37. Add in a huge old film camera under that parka (to keep 'em dry) and you'll have my dad and I on vacation in Yellowstone during a rainstorm.

41. It's a rite of passage.

42. All too well.

44. I admit that I added this one, but some of the other ones were obviously added by someone in the email chain. Like I said, I'm too lazy to verify all of these.

45. Tragic, ain't it?

Long Way Home: A Bigfoot Story

This is an award-winning film made by a guy named James. We call him Bubba, 'cause that's his nickname. Watch the whole movie. If you can't do it in one sitting, just make a note of where you left off. I haven't timed how long it is, but he says he hasn't got the whole movie up on youtube yet.

Why is it that I only want to play the harmonica when I'm sick?

It's true. When I'm healthy, the word "harmonica" doens't even cross my mind. But as soon as I catch some sort of cold, flu, or other disease that I don't want to get all over my harmonica, I'm in the mood to learn to play it. I'm not really sure why. I can't play the harmonica to save my life. My harmonica playing makes Penderecki sounds like Mozart. Don't get me wrong, I think Penderecki is a genius, but an atonal genius.

Having realized the fact that I only want to play the harmonica when I'm sick, I've decided that I'm just going to go ahead and get germs all over the thing because it doesn't really matter anyway if I'm not going to play it while I'm healthy. I also figure that I'll either figure out how to carry a tune on it or someone is going to smash it, whichever comes first.

Let's talk about the harmonica for a minute. It's a great instrument when played skillfully, but the learning curve is very sharp. Either you can or you can't play it. It's always the people who can't play who like to prove this fact in public with a tip jar sitting in front of them. Whatever happened to skillful street musicians? Even in the winter when there's less competition, you're not going to make enough money to buy an iced tea.

Who invents something like the harmonica, anyway? I know I could just go look up the sucker's name, but I mean, what kind of person wakes up and says to hisself, "I'ma gonna take a plastic comb-thingy and put it in a metal case. And then I'm gonna put ten holes in that case for the air to get out. And I'ma call it... What am I gonna call it? I'ma call it a harmonica. It's gonna be a mucial instrument."

That's like looking at a bottle of burbon and an apple and saying, "I'm gonna make applesauce with this. In the microwave." That's the sort of thing that would make me wonder if you've at least partially consumed the contents of the bottle of burbon.

To all of you harmonica-challenged out there, here's a site that I have found enormously entertaining, if not very helpful. After a few hours of working off of their tips, however, I have at least figured out what note to start on. Now go forth and annoy those around you.