Happy New Year!

2007 New Year's Resolutions (in no particular order):

1. Spend more time in nature. (Including spending a weekend alone in the woods.)

2. Build a treehouse/clubhouse "for Alex."

3. Fix up the old truck in time for fishin' season and learn the art of catfishing.

4. Be a better family man.

5. Be a better friend.

6. Study and practice Buddhism.

7. Laugh more.

8. Make people laugh.

9. Be happy.

10. Make people happy.

I like this list. I think all of these resolutions are related. If I succeed at accomplishing these goals, I will have a very happy 2007. I hope you will make and achieve some resolutions of your own, too. Happy New Year!

Mean Green Machine Update

"It gets the same gas mileage going 70 as it does going 20."

"I had it inspected earlier this year but never bothered to license it."

These are just two of the interesting statements made by the good ol' boy who sold me my truck. I am not sure what kind of gas mileage it gets, but upon driving the beast a few times on the highway, it was capable of reaching a maximum speed of only 60 mph on a flat surface, 65 going downhill, and 50 going uphill (all while at full throttle.) 70 mph is a fantasy- a figment of the old man's early onset dementia. As for having it inspected this year- well I guess if this were 2003 he would have been telling the truth. The registration and inspection sticker reflected this fact. As a side effect of years of neglect, when I had the truck inspected it was found to not have functioning rear brakes whatsoever. That's right- the brake lines weren't even connected. $1,042 later and only after a very lenient inspection of the rest of the truck's systems (including a leak at the exhaust mainfold and a leaky power steering pump), it passed inspection.

I went to get it licensed that afternoon. I arrived at the license office with 50 minutes to spare before they closed. Too bad they relocated the license office back in November to the building it was in two relocations ago at the corner of Vandiver and Providence roads. Eventually I found the correct building where I waited in line until 4:55 before it was finally my turn. I paid my fees and taxes and puttered home with my new plates affixed to my beautiful green truck. I notice it running pretty rough on the way home so I resolved to work on it the next day.

As the engine stalled, misfired, backfired, and lurched Alex and I headed to the parts store for new spark plugs, plug wires, distributor cap, a distributor rotor, and a repair manual ($86). As we drove toward home, a kind passerby yelled out the window of his perfectly maintained Honda Element, "You're losing coolant!" I nodded a knowing nod (as I had already noticed and tried to ignore the temperature gauge pegged at the "H") and pulled over. I drove off the shoulder and through the ditch along highway 63, abandoned the vehicle in a nearby parking lot, and called my mommy for a ride. Then Bethany met us all in Ashland after she got off work early and took Alex, me, and my wounded pride home.

The next day I drove to the parts store in Columbia once again and purchased a thermostat and some coolant ($13.) I installed them and the various ignition parts that I had purchased the prior day. I shredded three knuckles removing the last spark plug and actually bled on the newly installed plug wires. I thought it was a badge of honor. After two and a half hours of gratifying yet painful labor, I started her up and headed home. 500 yards down the road I heard a loud "bang" and an ensuing grinding sound accompanied by a good deal of smoke.

I pulled over again and called my loving wife for a ride. She and Alex picked me up after rushing through their lunch at home. By this time, my patience and affection for my new vehicle and its quirks were beginning to wane. I imagined the conversation I might have with the man who sold me this fine automobile were I to see him ever again. I thought it wise to avoid such a confrontation.

The next day, I had the beast towed to the garage and had my mechanic check the water pump. He called and said the pump was fine. I had simply forgotten to bleed the air out of the radiator when I refilled it with fluid. He was impressed with the repairs I had made. As I began to swell with pride he offered the following statement, "You know, this thing runs even worse than it did the other day when it was here."

I said, "I know. I hoped the plugs and such would have helped."

"No, its your carburetor. Its shot."

"How much...?"

"You should have someone you know put one in for you or rebuild it for you."

"Ballpark for you to put a rebuilt one in."

"$450."

"I think I'll just limp it along till it quits."

"I would. Also, that noise you heard was your A/C compressor. A piece of metal broke loose and flew out through the side of it. There was a piece of metal grinding away inside and the smoke was from the belt burning when it stopped spinning finally. We just took that out and threw it away. No charge."

"I appreciate that."

"There was another noise coming from your heater fan but the book says to charge you for three hours of labor just to diagnose it, so we'll just pretend like we didn't hear that."

"Thanks. Anything else?"

"Yeah, there is a noise coming from your bell housing but we won't even talk about that."

"Yeah, let's not."

"Well, its all put back together and ready to drive home." ($125 including tow.)

On the way home, I reached a whopping 75 mph going downhill at full throttle. I was even able to stay above 55 mph going uphill. Looks like my bloody knuckles were not a wasted sacrifice afterall.

Maybe Santa will bring me a new carburetor for Christmas. I deserve it. I've been real good this year. I didn't even kill that old farmer.

Six Degrees of Separation (From Kevin Bacon)

Have you ever played the game "Six degrees of separation from Kevin Bacon?" It is theorized that everyone can connect themselves to Kevin Bacon through a friend of a friend of a friend, etc. Have you ever tried it? It works. And if you are reading this, you are actually within six degrees of separation from Mr. Bacon. Observe:

1. Travis Naughton (me).
2. Donna Keller (my mommy).
3. Steven Spielberg (my mommy went to high school with the then geeky future filmaker).
4. John Belushi (starred in "The Blues Brothers" in which Spielberg made a cameo appearance as the Cook County collector).
5. Kevin Bacon (appeared as a ROTC cadet in "Animal House" which starred John Belushi).

Add your name to the top of the list and there you have it- six degrees of separation from Kevin Bacon. Congratulations!

You're welcome.

Report Card on 2006 New Year's Resolutions

The following is my list of resolutions that I compiled one year ago. Let's see how I did:

1. Be myself. I can do a better job of not being self-conscious and worrying about what everyone thinks of me.
("B+". I think I have done a good job at this one. I just gotta be me- whether people like it or not.)

2. Have a more positive attitude. I tend to get a little over-dramatic when bad things happen. I need to learn to laugh things off that bother me.
("C". This one has been a struggle, but overall I think I do better than I used to on this one.)

3. Buy a new suit and wear it for no good reason. Even if I only wear it to sit at the desk in my home office, it will be more gratifying than only wearing it at weddings and funerals.
("D". I have not yet purchased a suit although I have spotted some awesome deals at the Goodwill store!)

4. Drink full-flavored beer again instead of that watered down stuff with half the calories and taste. Moderation will ensure that my new suit will not have to be altered to fit around a beer-gut.
("A+". Did you know dark beer has antioxidants and is good for your heart?)

5. Be honest and fair while controlling my temper. This relates to my tendency to avoid and suppress my feelings until I inevitably explode in a fit of misdirected rage.
("B-". Serenity now or insanity later. I think I have improved.)

6. Become more spiritual, not necessarily religious. I would like to learn about several different religions and spiritual sects such as Buddhism, Taoism, Christianity and Islam. Then I can present them to Alex and let him decide which he prefers.
("B". I read several books about world religions during this past year. On our adoption application I even noted that my "religion" was Buddhism. I plan to learn all I can about Buddhism so that I can teach our Chinese girl about Eastern spirituality.)

7. Take Alex on a weekly adventure. Plan fun stuff that we will both enjoy and then blog about it to share with our fans.
("B". Everyday in our family is an adventure. After I started working and Alex went to Kindergarten, our adventures together became less frequent. I think he lives a very fullfilled life, nevertheless.)

8. Write a novel and have it published. I have a good start on this one already. I have a 30 chapter outline and have completed the first two chapters so far.
("D-". The wheels fell off of this train. The book I started will be re-vamped during my next retirement and eventually published. Sorry to make you wait.)

9. Perform one altruistic act per week and share it with my blogging faithful. Maybe I can inspire other people to do good deeds in the process.
("B-". Although I have not managed to perform one act of altuism per week, I think I have made the world a slightly better place during the past year. Our family sponsors a Brazillian girl through Christian Children's fund. Bethany gives a little money to the United Way each pay period. I help The Humane Society and Columbia 2nd Chance (animal rescue groups) feature their pets at my store each week as well as donate food, toys, and advertising to their causes. Alex is bagging up some of his old toys to donate to needy kids this Christmas, as well.)

10. Save up to buy a hot rod family cruiser. Maybe the royalties from my first book will cover it.
("B". Although I didn't get a family cruiser, I did get a bitchin' four wheel drive truck that is capable of taxiing the family out of our icy/muddy driveway that secludes us from the outside world during bad weather.)

So overall, I think I did okay with my resolutions this year. I could have done better to be sure. How did you do? Post your report card on this blog. Maybe you'll inspire me or someone else for resolution ideas for '07. I will post my 2007 resolutions in a couple of weeks. Stay tuned.

Our New Baby!

Its not a Chinese infant, but we'll take it. I am talking of course, about my new baby- The Mean Green Machine. Behold the 1975 Ford F250. Three-quarter ton, four wheel drive, 360 cubic inchV8, four speed with "granny low" gear. This beautiful specimen belonged to only one owner for its first 31 years- a farmer who who used it for various chores around his property. When hauling hay, he would "drop her down" into low gear and hop out while the truck puttered along by itself in the hayfield. He would walk along side of it and throw bales in the back and then jump back in to take them to the barn. How cool is that!? In all of its 31 years, the beast racked up only 77,000 actual miles (and a few dents and rust spots for character.) Everything but the Philco AM radio still works. And somewhere along the way the tailgate disappeared, but you don't need a tailgate to have a tailgate party.

Bring on the next 16 inch snowfall or home football game- the Naughton family's chariot has arrived.

Dig This

I was grateful to our neighbor for plowing the path thru the snow in our driveway that would in theory connect us to the outside world. There were a few problems with his execution however. He made the path only as wide as his little Bobcat tractor's scoop. That is only about 6 inches wider than our van. Oh, and he left a layer of ice on the driveway that grows thicker every night when the previous day's snowmelt re-freezes. Therein lies the problem. Have you ever driven on a curvy, hilly, gravel driveway covered with three inches of sheer ice and lined with plowed snow that is several feet deep and mere inches from either side of your vehicle? It is almost like driving on a bobsled run except when you try to go thru a curve, you get hopelessly stuck in a snow bank. Sounds fun, right?

On Monday and Tuesday, I dug out our marooned minivan a total of four times. A snow shovel was no match for the thick ice, so I employed our other shovel- a spade. This would not be notable were it not for the fact that this shovel's main purpose is that of a pooper-scooper for the land mines left by our three dogs. Can you get this visual image in your mind: Bethany and Alex are sitting all buckled-up and cozy in the van while I am digging out the compacted snow and ice from under our wheels with a shovel coated in St. Bernard crap. "Whistle while you work?!" Try, "Dry-heave while you dig!" Cussing, spitting, slamming doors. Ah, the joys of country living.

Last night I got smart. I parked the van at the end of our driveway and we walked the rest of the way home. On our way out the door this morning Alex asked, "Dad, are you gonna yell and slam doors again today?"

"Where's my shovel?"

The Shining

One of the best movies of all time is "The Shining." A family of three is snowbound in a remote locale for an inordinate amount of time. The writer/husband/father loses his mind as a result of a severe case of cabin fever. You know the rest of the story.

The Naughton family has been snowbound since Thursday afternoon. We received 16 inches of snow and our cars' bumpers are only 13 inches off the ground. Not a good combination. Apparently the county doesn't consider our mile and a half of hilly, curvy gravel road to be a high priority on their plowing list. The writer/husband/father in our family has been going a little crazy due to the fact that in addition to being isolated from the outside world by the snow, the family computer crashed three days ago- thus severing all remaining ties to civilization. Perhaps sensing impending doom, Bethany ran the computer's recovery program and re-installed all the software during a period of several hours last evening. Crisis averted.

Blog Daddy is back. "Heeeeeeerrrrrre's Johnny!"

(The photo shows our 18" tall pickett fence just peaking out of the snow.)

Blog "Karma" Daddy

To those of you who have come to expect frequent posts on this blog, I must apologize. There has been a lot going on in my life lately that has prevented me from blogging as often as I would like. An horrific event that was revealed to me by a loved one has been weighing heavily on my mind. It has left me virtually unable to think of anything else. I cannot elaborate upon the details, but those people affected by the shocking revelation are painfully aware of that event to which I am referring. To make things worse, another loved one revealed an injustice that had been perpetrated against her this morning.
Questions and thoughts about justice, morality, pain, revenge, and redemption have been plaguing me.

In my brief exposure to Buddhism, I have learned that the Buddhist's goal in life is to relieve human suffering. I have also learned a little bit about Karma. Karma is the good and bad energy that you put into your life-force. Your life-force is eternal and allows beings to live multiple lifetimes in many different forms. You and I are now in human form but depending on how much good or bad Karma we add to our life-force, we may be something entirely different in our next life. Those with enough good Karma may progress to a higher spiritual plane in the next life. They may become free of pain and suffering. They may become enlightened beings well on their way to achieving Nirvana, or a state of pure bliss and contentment (the Buddhist approximation to Heaven.) Easing suffering, living well, acting morally, are all ways to add good Karma.

People who taint their life-force with bad Karma are destined to be reincarnated as a less advanced life form. For example, a person who tortures animals may become a dog in his next life. He could become a cockroach. His Karma will decide his fate, depending on how he lived his most recent life (or lives.) After several lifetimes of being the best cockroach, dog, or whatever that he can be, his life-force may be reincarnated as a human once again. Perhaps in that lifetime he will add enough good Karma to advance toward Nirvana. The cycle only stops when Nirvana is achieved and he becomes a Buddha, or Enlightened One.

I believe that a person who could commit the attrocious act that has set my mind to work could be reincarnated as a virus. To scientists, a virus is the most primative form of life in the known universe. It would take a thousand lifetimes to build up enough good Karma from this lowly state to become human again. Perhaps in that amount of time, the perpetrator's and victim's paths will cross again and a better outcome will result. One cannot tell what the future holds. I can only hope that the suffering of my loved ones will end.

I need to go meditate a while.

We're Debt Free!!!

Bethany just sent a check to her student loan company that paid her balance in full. With the exception of our house, we no longer owe any money to anyone anywhere! Because we no longer make car payments, student loan payments, credit card payments, etc., we could triple our house payment each month and own our home outright in three years!!! However, we are setting aside that extra money for our adoption expenses so that we will not have to borrow one red cent of the $20,000 it will cost to complete the process. Then, we will begin to pay off the house in earnest.

Our goal is that in five years we will have the house paid off, have an emergency fund, and have a decent nest egg built up. Imagine having ten acres of land, a fully furnished four bedroom home, two automobiles, two college degrees, two children, three dogs, three cats, two goats, a retirement fund, an emergency fund, a college fund, and not one dollar of debt! I openly share this dream with you not to brag about our success but to inspire you to do the same. In the past two years we have managed to eliminate over $42,000 in debt!!! We have done this while also making monthly house payments, investing money for Alex's college fund, saving for retirement, and saving for an adoption. How did we do it? By living within our means. By creating a budget and sticking to it (thanks to Bethany's careful planning). By not spending money that we don't have. Some people might say, "Yes but you have two decent incomes that have helped. Not everybody makes as much money as you." We are very fortunate to have the jobs that we do. But you must remember that for the first year of this debt elimination I did not work at all and we relied on Bethany's income only. In fact, I dabbled with selling used cars for a while which as you may recall cost us a few dollars when all was said and done. I can say that we are a typical, middle class family who did something quite atypical- we resolved to live like no one else so that later on we could live like no one else.

In other words, we made sacrifices and worked hard to achieve our goals. We lived the past two years on a very tight budget. We paid cash for things or else went without. We sold our brand new four wheel drive truck and dumped the $400 a month payment in exchange for owning a pair of cheaper, yet paid for vehicles. We haven't bought new cars even though Bethany's transmission went out and my water pump and intake manifold gasket had to be replaced within a week of each other. We haven't bought a new stove even though ours only has two burners, the outer shell of the oven door is gone, and it doesn't even have a handle. We haven't bought a new refrigerator even though ours is rusted and the ice maker had to be disconnected because it leaked water all over the floor. We haven't bought a new dryer even though we have to dry each load twice to get the clothes fully dry. We haven't bought a new washer even though the control knob broke off a year ago and now we have to use pliers to durn the dial. We haven't bought a new furnace even though only two of the four heating elements still work. We have resisted the temptation to run out and charge new things on a credit card when our old things break. In fact, we no longer have credit cards at all. That's what it means to live like no one else.

After we pay off the house, we should have about $4000 a month in surplus income. Then we will really be able to live like no one else. All new appliances paid for in cash! A like-new car paid in cash! Hiring someone to dig and stock a fishing pond paid in cash! Paying for college without borrowing a penny! Enjoying the rest of our lives without stressing over money issues! If we can do it- anyone can. And its never too late to start. I hope that you will find financial peace, too. A great way to start is by reading "The Total Money Makeover" by Dave Ramsey. Bethany will be calling in to Dave's radio show next week to announce to the world, "WE'RE DEBT FREE!!!"

Authentic Hannibalian

Hannibal MO is the boyhood home of both Mark Twain and myself. We were both very popular fellows I might add. Although I lived in America's Hometown for a full decade and was assigned Twain's famous literary works as required reading in school, I never actually read "Tom Sawyer"or "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn." Some stories from "Tom Sawyer" soaked into my head over the years through osmosis (one can't live in Hannibal and not be bombarded with such stories) or by skimming Cliff's Notes, but I never really read either of the celebrated novels penned by Hannibal's favorite son. Now, that has all changed. I, Travis Naughton, have read both "Tom Sawyer" and "Huckleberry Finn" in 2006. I just finished Huck Finn today. Sure it took me 35 years, but I did it. And you know what? I enjoyed them both thoroughly. Now I can finally understand what all the fuss is about.

Twain would cringe at the commercialism that the popularity of his books has spawned in today's Hannibal, but he would also probably find a lot of humor in it. The "Tom and Huck Motel" is one of the best examples. Huck Finn would have hated staying in a motel. He preferred sleeping under the stars in an empty hogshead or on a raft floating down the river. The motel is owned by a family from India. Move over "Injun Joe" and make room for "Indian Patel." I guess that's the beauty of Twain's writing- it transcends time, distances, and cultural differences. Hell, there's even a Tom Saywer Land amusement park in Japan.

The thing that struck me most when reading the books was the similarities between Tom and Huck's childhood and my own. Even in the 1980's, boys in Hannibal had a lot of the same adventures that they did in Twain's day. What boy doesn't pretend to be a pirate once in a while? What boy never played Cowboys and Indians? What boy didn't try to impress his Becky Thatcher by doing something completely obnoxoius to get her attention? What boy could sit through a church sermon without squirming a little now and then? What boy in Hannibal didn't venture down to the river and dream of floating away on a raft or boat in search of adventure? What boy didn't explore caves half-expecting to run into Injun Joe? What boy didn't laze away hot summer days fishin' and swimmin' with his friends? In the past 150 years, being a kid in Hannibal hasn't changed a whole lot. I think that's a good thing. When I got older, all I wanted was to leave Hannibal because I thought it was boring. But when I was a kid it sure was a fun place to live. And in my mind it will always be that same innocent little town- thanks in no small part to Mark Twain.

Speaking of reading- Alex is now able to read several books. He even reads to his classmates once in a while. He's pretty proud of himself and we're pretty proud of him, too. There's hope for him yet. Even Huckleberry Finn learnt ta read 'n' write on account a' the Widder Douglass and Miss Watson- 'spite how it made him a might bit uncomfterble and figgitey at times. I 'spect its good fer a body to do some readin' now and then. I mightn not wait another 35 yearn to give it another try I reckon. I happend ta git aholt a' copy a' "Life on the Mississippi" by that Twain feller. I might give 'er a look with my young 'un, by and by.

Veterans Day, etc...

First and foremost, I hope everyone takes the time to thank a veteran for their contributions to this great country of ours. Never confuse political disagreements with a lack of support for our troops. I appreciate the sacrifices that our men and women in the military have made and continue to make everyday.

"Your mother wears combat boots!" That's a derogatory expression many of you have probably heard over the years. To me, it is a compliment. My mother was in the United States Marine Corps. As Mom says, "Yeah, and I drive a tank to church!" My battle cry as a kid was, "My mom can beat up your dad!" Seriously, thank you Mom for having the courage to leave behind a laid back California-girl lifestyle in favor of service to your country at a time when it was not a very popular choice to support your government during the Vietnam War. You are a great example and an inspiration to women who have since gone on to have outstanding military careers.

I would have moved to Canada during the Vietnam War. 55,000 Americans died in a country many couldn't have found on a map prior to their service there. Countless young men dodged the draft by fleeing north and were branded as cowards because they refused to die in a war they felt was unjust. My dad didn't dodge the draft. In fact, he didn't wait around to get drafted. Although being in college would have exempted him for being drafted, Dad volunteered to go to Vietnam. He felt that it was his duty. The Marines were his branch of choice, and sure enough, he did go to Vietnam. Luckily, he survived the experience, although he would be forever transformed by the ordeal. Thanks Dad for having the guts to do what you thought was right.

My dad's brother, my uncle Mike, went to Vietnam in the AirForce. He, too was a brave young man who volunteered rather than wait to get drafted. He too was forever changed by his experiences. I remember a conversation with Mike in early 2003 when he said, " I sure hope we don't go into Iraq." He knew what most Americans now believe- war with Iraq would not make us or them any better off. We should take the time to listen to our vets once in a while. Thanks, Uncle Mike for having the courage to stand up for what you believe in.

My grandfather, Aldace Naughton, Jr received a Purple Heart for his service in World War II. He was wounded fighting the Japanese during the darkest hours of human history. I look forward to watching Clint Eastwood's new movie "Flags of our Fathers." It documents the battle for Iwo Jima when the Flag was raised by those brave Marines who survived one of the bloodiest battles in the war. Young men like my grandfather were slaughtered by the thousands trying to take island after island in the Pacific. People like my Uncle Jim Naughton fought Hitler's army in Europe at the same time. Jim was in the "Battle of the Bulge" and after surviving the Second World War served in the Korean War as well. Thank everyone from that generation for your freedom today. The world would be a radically different place without the sacrifices that our soldiers, sailors, and Marines made during those years.

In high school, I had the bright idea that I should join the Marines, too. I enlisted into the Marine Corps Reserves. After making it 2/3 of the way thru bootcamp, my knees gave out and I was issued an "entry level separation". This meant that I was never there, that I was never a member of the military, and therefore could not collect disability benefits. The trade off was that I would be home in time for my first semester of college rather than having to wait in limbo for up to 18 months in San Diego for a medical discharge that would have entitle me to benefits. The way I looked at it, I could still walk, which was more than a lot of veterans could say. I was lucky. In fact, I was so lucky that six months later, the first Gulf War broke out and the reserve unit that I would have joined was activated and deployed to Iraq. They were combat engineers. They built airstrips, base camps, and temporary bridges, etc. I later found out that some of them were ordered to use their bulldozers to bury Iraqi fighters alive in their trenches. I guess my sore knees were a blessing afterall.

So on this Veterans Day, please remember the sacrifices our men and women in the military have made for us. Without them, I would not have the freedom to blog and you would not have the freedom to read the rantings of a 35 year old goofball in mid-Missouri. Thank you Veterans!

Pre-election rant

Family values. Moral majority. Passionate conservatism. Thanks to Karl Rove, the Right-wing formulated a plan to seize power over the masses in this country. By hijacking morality, Republicans made the American people believe that it would be un-American to vote Democrat. They said that Conservatives represented family values. They said Liberals' lack of respect for traditional family values would destroy America. Let's see how well the Righties walk the walk.

Rush Limbaugh, the voice of the right wing, called Michael J. Fox a faker and physically mocked him on camera when describing Fox's "exaggerated" Parkinson's tremors in a political ad. This was an attempt by Rush to discredit "those evil Liberals" who have exploited poor Mr. Fox for their own political gains. The truth: Limbaugh was fired from ESPN for racist and ridiculous remarks he made about quarterback Donovan McNabb being overrated because he is black. I guess leading his team to four straight NFC championship games was just dumb luck. Rush also was caught in possession of drugs that he had no prescription for and later admitted he was addicted to. And he is a man we should be taking morality lessons from? Sadly, millions of brainwashed Americans believe the garbage the Limbaugh spits out every day on the radio. He is a divider of America and has done more than most politicians to tear at the "United We Stand" credo of this great nation.

But the immoral majority does not limit itself to radio personalities. The leader of the American Association of Evangelicals who has long condemned gay relationships has been outed for having a long term gay relationship with a meth-dealing male prostitute. He has taken part in weekly conference calls with President Bush since Dubya took office. This is the President's spititual compass. Pat Robertson, an ordained minister and leader of the Christian Coalition has publicly called for the assasination of world leaders and has even expressed that Hurrican Katrina was God's way of punishing sinners in Louisiana. WWJD? Jesus preached the virtues of peace and love, Pat. Do you ever read that Bible or do you just thump it?

There used to be a time when poor folks and middle class families refused to vote for Republicans. To them, Republicans represented the greedy, industrialized "Fat Cat" America that didn't care about the little guy. After the right-wing's propaganda campaign against Democrats on the battle grounds of morality, many of these left of center voters began to believe that Conservatives cared more about their problems and really did share their values. Do you think Halliburton (a contracting firm that has made billions of dollars "rebuilding" Iraq by receiving no-bid contracts from the Administration- the same Administration that includes Vice-President Dick Cheney who was a board member for Halliburton before he was sworn into office) cares about the little guy? Do you think Cheney and his friends care about the poor folks who couldn't afford college who are now finding themselves in Iraq wearing bulls-eyes on their backs?

Do you think Republican congressmen like Tom Delay, Mark Foley, and Duke Cunningham who have all been forced to resign due to ethics violations are in any position to claim that they know morality? I received a mailer the other day from our state representative Ed Robb claiming that he was "pro-life" while his opponent Jim Ritter is "pro-abortion." Does he really think Ritter is "pro-abortion" (meaning he wishes everyone would have abortions) or does he know that Ritter supports a woman's constitutional right to choose what medical procedures she feels that she needs, yet Robb uses divisive, hateful, and incorrect speech to sway voters anyway? That doesn't sound like a morally right thing to do. Neither does bombing abortion clinics, supporting the death penalty, and sending thousands of troops to die in a war that never should have taken place- especially for any politician who calls himself "pro-life." And how much can they value life if they cut seniors' Medicare benefits leaving elderly Americans to choose which life-saving prescriptions that they will have to do without due to lack of coverage?

The Right is wrong. At every turn they have abused the power they seized in 2000. They have divided this country by constantly accusing Democarats who disagree with their views of being anti-American. They say that Democrats don't share their moral values. Personally, I am glad I don't share their values. Hopefully, the majority of Americans will vote this Tuesday for the party that truly does seek to help the poor, infirmed, and the elderly. The party that has always stood for real American values is the Democratic party. The party that has never accused dissenters of being anti-American is the Democratic party. The party that values the American family over making billions in profits for big business is the Democratic party. The party that will give us the best chance of pulling this country back together, rather that dividing us further is the Democratic party.

Do yourself, your family, your country, and the world a favor- vote Democrat on Tuesday, November 7.

Jeff Gordon, Jr.

Move over Ricky Bobby...

By Popular Demand...

A Naughton Family Photo. The beautiful people.

The Scariest Halloween Costume in the World

"My opthamologist says I only need to wear my glasses to read my sheet music!"

Blog Daddy Band Geek

This year, my Halloween costume was not a big stretch for me. I was (and am) a band geek. Notice the 72 awards ribbons adorning my actual band jacket that I proudly wore in high school. "One time at band camp..."

Go Crazy Folks!

Go crazy! How appropriate is it that in the same year that Cardinal great Bruce Sutter (the last Redbird hurler to throw a strike to win a World Series) was inducted into the baseball hall of fame, rookie reliever Adam Wainright threw strike three to win the Series!? I was eleven years old when the Cards last won it all. Like most boys that age I worshipped baseball. I played little league. I collected baseball cards. I watched every game on KPLR-TV. I listened to Jack on the radio. Until last night I almost forgot how it felt to watch Darrel Porter sprinting toward his battery mate in celebration. Last night it was Yadier Molina and Wainright, but the feeling was the same.

I am not alone in this feeling of jubilation. Millions of Cardinal fans across Missouri and the Midwest shared in my joy. For us, Cardinal baseball is more than a summertime diversion. It is what we look forward to all winter. It is what we talk about all spring. It is what we focus on all summer. And it is something we all look forward to celebrating every fall. Sure, the Yankees have more World Series wins. But New Yorkers don't live and die with their team's wins and losses. They expect their overpayed collection of primadonnas to produce results. They boo their own players when they fail. They call for their manager to be fired after every season in which they fail to win it all- despite his record of success. In Missouri, we forge an intimate relationship with our team. We welcome cast-offs from other teams into the Cardinal family. Many "has-beens" have enjoyed the remainder of their careers in St. Louis when otherwise they would have been forced to retire. Larry Walker, Scott Spezio, Jeff Weaver, Will Clark, Mark McGwire, Dennis Eckersly, Bruce Sutter, and Roger Maris all came to St. Louis to end their careers in a town where they would be appreciated. Second in World Championships only to those reviled Yankees, the Cardinals have proven again that guts, teamwork, and determination- not the highest payroll in professional sports, are all a team needs to succeed. And a faithful fanbase. Fans that have been there for their team in good times, bad times, and everything in between.

Last night I felt like an 11 year old boy again. So did the men on that field. Everybody who has played baseball has fantasized about winning the World Series from the time they first swung a bat. For the Redbirds (and we the fans living vicariously through them), our dreams have come true. Congrats Cardinals! And thank you.

148

Question: What is the significance of the number 148? Is it:

a. My average score in bowling?
b. My average score in golf?
c. My weight?
d. My total cholesterol?
e. Both c and d?
f. None of the above?

If you guessed "e" you are correct. I just got the results of my first ever cholesterol screening and couldn't be more pleased. The test took place only 18 hours after I ate 11 slices of pizza for dinner at Cici's. Apparently, the low-fat diet Bethany has us on the rest of the time is working out pretty well. In fact, her cholsterol is 149. Yes, I beat her- and yes she is ticked. We were both sure that my love of red meats and all-you-can-eats would have put my test results in the 200+ danger zone. But alas, I am fit as a fiddle and at age 35 impervious to fat. Oh, and I'm dead sexy. Don't forget it.

China Doll

Some of you have heard rumors about Bethany and I adding to our family, so I thought I would make an official blogger announcement. If everything goes as planned, we are going to adopt a baby girl from China. We have been approved by the agency to continue the adoption process after they reviewed our application. (Being Naughtons didn't scare them off!) We have moved on to the third step of the process which is to get all of our legal documents together such as birth certificates, marriage license, passports, letters of reference, financial statements, etc. After submitting these papers, the agency will conduct a home visit and then will sign off on our final approval if they see no problems. After that we will have to correspond with the State Department, the Chinese Embassy, and other agencies to work out the details. After all the t's are crossed and i's are dotted, we wait. We wait until the Chinese government approves the adoption and then we hop on a plane to the far east. There we will meet our baby, take her to the hotel to stay with us, sight-see in China for two weeks while waiting for the final paperwork to be completed, and then return home with our new daughter.

The whole process could take over a year and a half, although we hope to speed that up with timely submissions of documents, etc. I think it is fate that has brought us to this crossroads. When Bethany was giving birth to Alex his heart rate plummeted and I saw panick in the nurse's eyes. After the ordeal was over, I commented, "We're never going through that again. Next time we'll adopt a little girl from China." Little did I know then that for four years we would try to conceive another child with no success (although it was fun trying!) only to arrive at the decision that adoption was for us. Fate. Karma. Destiny. Call it what you like. But its just like Momma says, "Everything happens for a reason." I think we were meant to save a baby from a life in an orphanage without the love of a family.

Wish us luck, and don't be surprised if we ask you to write a letter of reference for us. We appreciate your support and love.

PS: Do you know what they call Chinese food in China? Food. Who knew!?

Chi-town Part 2:

On Sunday, we got a taste for the real Chicago. First, we successfully rode two subway/El trains into the heart of the city. We made our way fairly easily to the Field Museum in downtown Chi-town. The museum is right beside Soldier Field and there just happened to be 60,000 people wearing Bears jerseys headed in the same direction. So all we had to do was follow them.

At the museum we saw Sue, the most complete T-rex skeleton ever found. Alex and I had previously read several books about Sue and the saga of her journey to the Field Museum, so we were very excited to finally meet her in person. She was beautiful. We also saw a lot of her other dinosaur friends, a bunch of mummies, hundreds of animal specimens, meteorites, ancient artifacts, and Lucy, the oldest known hominid skeleton in the world. It was a very cool experience. Little did we know how uncool the rest of the day would be.

At precisely 3:00 pm we decided to catch a train back to our car so we could hit the road to begin our 7 hour trip home. Of course the Bears game ended at 3:00 and of course 60,000 drunken, yet happy Bears fans crowded into the streets and the trains at the exact same time we did. The train ride was so crowded that the woman standing next to me for the 40 minute ride got to know me a lot more intimately than she ever would have liked. I felt like apologizing, but I just couldn't look her in the eye after passively violating her for such a long period of time. Finally, to her great relief, we reached our stop and spared her any further indignity.

Within 30 seconds of finding our van and leaving the parking lot, our fate was sealed. My navigation skills were no match for the insanity that is post-Bears game/ road construction Chicago traffic. We took a fateful turn onto what we thought was our path home. How wrong we were. When we finally realized our error, we were headed straight back into the heart of the city and we would have to drive thru all the traffic we hoped to avoid in the first place by taking the train. Again, we took a corrective turn, this time putting us on a path toward the interstate that we so desperately needed to find. After heading south for several blocks, Bethany said she felt like going west for a while. I found a road that appeared to take us west AND toward the interstate. It would have taken us there- eventually. Unfortunately it also took us through one of the roughest parts of inner-city Chicago.

At every red light we stopped for, more and more disenfranchised urban youth stood idly by, studying our cute little minivan with the daisy petal steering wheel cover and matching CD holder on the visor, hoping for a little excitement in their otherwise unfulfilling lives. Trash blanketed the sidewalks, bottles with brown paper bags wrapped around them lay in the gutters, and dozens of sets of curious eyeballs bore down upon us at every intersection. No Toto, this didn't look like Kansas anymore. In my paranoid state, I encouraged my lovely wife to treat stop signs more like yield signs and red lights more like green lights. She readily complied and eventually we saw an overpass for the interstate. There was just one problem. The police and fire departments had the road blocked ahead, leaving us no way to reach the interstate. At this point, I felt an urge to cry. It was now past 5:30, the sun was starting to slip behind the tall buildings, and I realized that we had about half an hour of daylight before our simple navigational error had a real chance of becomming something more than just a funny story to blog about. I somehow saw a cross street on the map that we used to link up with the highway, and by 6:00, we were finally able to breathe a big sigh of relief as we left Chicago behind.

We were finally headed home. In the first few hours of our trip back, not much was said. I may or may not have had a nervous breakdown at some point in the city. Let's just say at one point I begged my bride to pull over and help me find a way on the map to get us the hell outta there. When she declined, I may or may not have temporarily lost my tenuous grasp on sanity. Only when we were an hour or so out of Chicago, did she acknowledge that maybe she could have been more sensitive to the fact that I was curled up in the fetal position, laying on the floor, rocking back and forth, sucking my thumb, and saying "I'll be a good boy, Mommy. I promise," over and over again. Maybe, she said, she should have pulled over one of the first 50 times I asked/ pleaded for her to do so. I don't do well in an urban enviornment. I can admit that. Ask anyone who knows me. And Bethany knows me.

When we arrived at home at midnight, we all got out of the van and kissed the ground. Well, I did anyway. I told my family that I love them and that I was sorry that I don't travel well. They said they love me anyway, and we won't have to go to Chicago again any time soon. I was real glad.

Now I can look back and laugh and recall all the fun we had when we weren't utterly lost and scared out of our minds. Chicago- I'll see ya in about 20 years. I think I'll be ready by then.

The Chicago Experience: Part 1

Bethany, Alex, and I drove to Chi-town this weekend to attend the Backer's Pet Expo along with my store's owners and about 10,000 other people involved in the pet business. The convention hosted 1500 exhibiting vendors and their products. In the two full days we explored the trade show, we still did not manage to see everything. It was amazing- and exhausting. Did you know that there are at least one hundred different manufacturers of clothing for dogs? Did you realize that some bakeries make dog treats in the shape of dog feces? Its true. We even saw a real, live pink poodle. They had everything. It was a lot of fun. Thanks for letting us go, Teresa and Ian!

After the second day concluded we travelled north to my old college roommate's home in the 'burbs. Our navigation skills were challenged by no less than 6 roads along our route all named Rand Road. It made what should have been a 40 minute trip last almost two hours. I thought I saw the north pole at one point. I know I saw a sleigh and some reindeer. When we finally arrived at Mark and Kelly's house I asked our gracious hosts why they felt the need to live in Canada. They said they live in the suburbs of Chicago. They claimed to be Bears fans but I believe Green Bay and Minnesota were closer. But we had a great visit and I had a lot of fun catching up with my friend and laughing about the college days. (Mark if you are reading this: Do NOT post comments on this blog about our time together as roommates. I may still want to have a career in politics someday!) We said our goodbyes and found our way home (with no further incidents) by two in the morning. Thanks for the hospitality, Kirchwehms!

We would have liked to have gotten a little more rest, though. We would need it the next day when we ventured into the Windy City. But that is another story for another time. All I can say now is that the subway, the Projects, and Da Bears were involved. Oh, and a lot of dead people and animals. Stay tuned...

Old vs. Young

Did you know that when you click on the drop down menu on your web browser called "View" one of the options is "text size"? This is a marvel of modern technology. I was feeling hip and young while playing on my Myspace page when suddenly I realized I was straining to read the tiny little text. I cannot describe the sense of agedness that overwhelmed me when I realized I was getting too old to read a Myspace page. Maybe that means I have no business having a Myspace page in the first place. How sad.

I should get reading glasses. But until my arms aren't long enough to focus on words "at arm's length" I'll continue to rely on the slide trombone method of reading books and newspapers. When I can't reach any farther, I will rely on this new found "text size" feature on the computer. Ain't technology great!

Enlarged text and online poker!? Thank you, Al Gore, for inventing the internet!

The Future Mrs. Alexander Naughton?

On Thursday, our friends Brenda and Grant welcomed their baby girl to the world. Rebecca Kavanaugh Barnes weighed 6 pounds and some change and has all 20 metacarpals, metatarsals, etc. She and her mother are both doing well, although Grant whined quite a bit about being tired. I took the opportunity to introduce Rebecca to her future husband, Alex, and Grant became physically ill. I told him to look at it this way- she could be Mrs. Augustus Jobe Herrin. He conceded my point and welcomed his future son in law to the family. Brenda said she and the baby are planning on going into hiding as soon as they are released from the hospital.

Maybe she's holding out for Rebecca to become the future Mrs. Briscoe.

MySpace Mania

Everybody has a MySpace account. Everybody who's anybody that is. Did you know that yours truly has one? http://www.myspace.com/travisnaughton Oh, yeah. And it rocks. Well, maybe "rocks" is a little strong, but it is what it is. Only the coolest of the cool are on MySpace, and I've been on it for quite some time- so don't call me a follower, man. I'm just as cool as Dane Cook and all the other comedians who have commandeered the site as their own vehicle for getting them noticed. They only wish they had a blog and fanbase as good as mine. Anyway, for those of you who are hip to the movement, feel free to check me out on MySpace.com.

WWDD?

What would Dave do? Dave Ramsey that is. He is the financial guru who has taught millions of people how to get out of debt using his books, seminars, and radio show. As many of you know, Bethany and I jumped on Dave's debt elimination bandwagon two years ago and have made some significant progress. Since I physically cut up our last credit card this week, I thought now would be a good time to give a status report on our progress.

Since April, 2004 we have paid off:

• Lowe's credit card...................$300
• My student loan......................$5342
• Discover/Visa cards................$11,000
• Truck loan................................$16,000
• Bethany's student loan...........$5000 of $9400 April '04 balance (remainder will be paid off by November)
• House........................................$10,000 of the April '04 balance

• Total of $48,000 of debt paid down!!!!!!!!!!!!

In that period of time we have managed to pay cash for the following without incurring any debt:

• 1999 Dodge Grand Caravan...........$5800
• 1996 Ford Crown Victoria..............$1800
• New transmission for van...............$1300
• Repairs on car..................................$1100
• Tires for van.....................................$500
• Trip to Orlando...............................$1300
• Trip to Cancun................................$2300

How did we do it? By living off a tight budget and using cash only- no financing, no credit cards, no buy now- pay later. If we don't have the money, we don't buy it. We did 95% of this while we only had one income. A family of three can pay down $48,000 in debt, own two cars outright, and still afford two family vacations on less than $50,000 per year of income-all in a little more than two years.

Our remaining financial goals:

• Pay off Bethany's student loan in November. (Then we'll be debt free except for the house!)
• Save up for adopting a child. (We have decided to pursue adopting a Chinese baby-with special thanks to fellow blogger Howdy and his wife for their help.)
• Pay off the house by the time I turn 40. (With the adoption, this goal may take an extra year, but I'm sure Dave wouldn't mind.)

Why am I telling you all of this? Am I bragging? Maybe a little. But my true intent is to show you that anyone can get out of debt once they put their mind to it. We have accomplished most of this while I stayed at home with Alex not earning a penny. Oh yeah, did I mention we have been saving money for Alex's college and have started saving and investing for our retirement, too? Can you imagine being 100% debt free, owning your own home and two cars, having a college fund for your kids, having a retirement fund for yourself, and still being young enough to enjoy it?! We are doing it and you can too. It doesn't matter how old you are. Start eliminating debt. Start saving and investing. The average mutual fund earns at least a 10% return per year over the course of 10 years. Dave's course is called "Financial Peace." Without this peace, we would still feel stressed out by money. Money problems are one of the biggest killers of marriages. Bethany and I were nearly $200,000 in debt a few years after getting married. We bought furniture, TV's, cars and trucks, and anything else we wanted. We never really thought about how we would pay it all off. Making minimum monthly payments on that mountain of debt would have kept us broke and at the mercy of creditors until the day we died. How can you retire living that way? How can you really enjoy life that way? How can you achieve financial peace that way? You can't. But thanks to Dave Ramsey, we are discovering that peace of mind so many of us dream about.

Now cut up those cards, set up a budget, pay off those debts, and start living!

Gall Bladder- Schmall Schmladder

Last Thursday, Bethany had her gall bladder removed. She had two stones in it the size of Pluto. Of course Pluto is no longer classified as a planet, but they were still big. The doctor filled her body with carbon dioxide to keep everything in its place after the offending organ was removed. This gas then traveled throughout her body causing her pain that she described as worse than childbirth. I witnessed the birth of our child, and I gotta say, I didn't think anything could be more painful than that appeared to be. But I guess I was wrong. It is now Sunday and Bethany is starting to feel like her old self again. It only really hurts when she laughs, which is a bit of a problem around this house. I am trying not to be funny, but that is easier said than done. I am one funny son of a bitch.

Thanks to everyone who has sent along best wishes and kept Bethany in their thoughts. She gets to stay home for a whole week and should be ready to get back to normal (and back to work) by then.

Crocodile Tears

I'm sure by now you've heard the news of the "Crocodile Hunter" Steve Irwin's untimely death. Although I never had the pleasure of meeting the man, I feel like I lost a family friend. I'm sure I'm not alone in that respect. Steve was an inspiration to both Alex and myself over the past few years. To Alex, Steve was a window to the natural world. He showed his viewers how special and important each living thing on this planet is. He never disparaged any animal no matter what stigmas people placed upon them. This was an important lesson for us all. By showing us the intrinsic beauty in even the animals that most people recoil in fear of, Steve taught us that life is precious in all its forms. He valued animal life as highly as that of humans- a lesson not lost on my son.

Thanks in no small part to Steve's unique style and message, Alex has developed a real respect for animals. His passion for life would make Steve proud. In fact, on one occasion Alex played the part of TV naturalist while I recorded him with our video camera. He took his viewers on a tour of our woods, pointing out the various forms of animal habitat while lamenting the destruction of habitat and the loss of wildlife in other locales. Imagine a five year old describing how an old, dead tree provides habitat for creatures such as birds and raccoons. Imagine him expressing his sorrow that precious habitat is being lost to logging and development throughout the world. Imagine the reverence for life that a five year old can have. Steve Irwin had a lot to do with that.

When I stayed at home with Alex, we watched "The Crocodile Hunter" virtually every day. Alex was captivated by Steve's enthusiastic style and message. Any man that can convince children (and adults) that poisonous snakes and 15 foot long crocs are "gorgeous creatures" is a true role model for kids to emmulate. I enjoyed watching Steve live his life outloud, without a hint of self-consciousness. I wish I could live free of self doubt and from worry of what other people think of me. Steve was also an inspiration to me as a father and husband. He was a model family man. He was able to successfully work with his spouse (a feat not many of us could pull off) because he respected her, loved her, and treated her as an equal. He loved his children with all of his heart. We were priveledged to see him interact with his daughter Bindy, whom Alex is quite interested in by the way, during the years that he filmed his show. He was always careful to strike a balance between giving his child a chance to explore and learn about the world while keeping a watchful eye out in order to keep her safe. That's all any good parent can hope to do.

It is appropriate, I suppose, that Steve died as he lived. He was among nature. He was teaching the rest of us about the beauty of the natural world. He was filming a show for kids that his daughter was to co-star in. Right up until his last moments, Steve was still showing us the joys of living in this world. Fathers and sons, wives and daughters, lovers of wildlife, and Mother Nature herself, are all better for having had Steve Irwin in our world and in our lives. It is also appropriate, I suppose, that the sting ray's barb pierced Steve's heart. For it was Steve's huge heart that defined him. A heart that taught me, my son, and the world how to love unconditionally. I'll never forget the episode of his show in which Steve had to say "goodbye" to his beloved dog Suey. A man tough enough to wrestle saltwater crocodiles was reduced to tears while he held his faithful companion in her dying moments. I hope Steve felt the world embracing him in his.

Tailgate Schmailgate

The University of Missouri has lost its mind. Kegs and large amounts of alcohol are now forbidden at tailgates. Those accosted by the MU Police will be ordered to dump out their beer or leave the premises. I wonder what they will do to Rich Riesenbeck. Rich owns Golden Eagle Distributing in Hannibal MO. They distribute Anheuser-Busch products to northeast Missouri. Rich parks his half million dollar Golden Eagle tour bus in Lot G directly south of the stadium for tailgating. He has multiple keg taps coming directly out of the side of his bus. I wonder if the MU Po-Po will make Rich dump out his multiple kegs or vacate the lot that he pays $10,000 annually for the right to park in. If not, then they better not bother the other 60,000 fans who come to games primarily to tailgate rather than watch the historically hapless Tigers lose year after year. Sure they won a bowl game last year. But Brad Smith is gone now, and they will have to actually rely on everyone on the team rather than one superstar to be successful. When they fail, I and everyone I know will want kegs and large amounts of alcohol on hand to make going to games worth the hassle.

Ticket prices have skyrocketed. Free parking has been eliminated. No alcohol can be sold or consumed in the staduim unless you are filthy rich and can afford to buy a luxury suite where they sell beer and provide waitstaff. (The same is true at basketball games.) Tuition is up nearly 400% since I began college in 1990. (Making MU the most expensive school in the Big 12. Except for Baylor which is the only private school in the conference.) And now they want to drive away the few of us who have put up with all of this crap over the years by making grown adults dump out their beer if the police think the beer to tailgater ratio is too high. Don't worry: if MU keeps this up, there won't be anybody left for the cops to harrass before long. This University needs to remember the people who continued to buy tickets throughout the 80's and 90's even though Missouri posted only three winning seasons in those 20 years. They need to remember that it was us Commoners who put 30,000 asses in the seats of a stadium that holds 60,000 when the Tigers sucked so bad that the rich alumni (to whom the University is catering now) wouldn't bother showing up. I remember a time when Mizzou gave away tickets to try to get people in the seats for telivised games. I remember parking for free anywhere you could find a space. I remember having fun at tailgates because no matter how bad the team was, at least we had beer. Now the MU fun police are trying to take away the last bastion of what made being a Mizzou fan tolerable.

I'm almost glad I didn't buy a tailgatin' truck. No I'm not. I want a truck so gaudy, so audacious, and so visible that the MU Gestapo couldn't ignore it or the drunken fans trying to have a little fun in, on, or around it. Just try to make us dump out our beer. I dare you. But first, let's go to the Anheuser-Busch bus and make them pour theirs out. While we're at it, let's make sure the big wigs in the luxury boxes dump theirs or vacate the premises.

"For All We Call Mizzou" is the name of the fundraising campaign MU has been involved in for the past couple of years. Their goal is to raise $1 Billion. All long as I have a pulse, I'll tell everybody who'll listen not to give this pathetic institution one red cent. How can you raise over $600 million dollars to date and still increase tuition 38% in the three years since the fundraising campaign began? How can you justify charging thousands of dollars a year for parking passes for sports events (tailgating) and then tell the peole who spent that ridiculous amount of money that they can't have kegs or large amounts of beer (even if they have designated drivers)? How can you justify spending $50 million on a new rec center on campus that no one was allowed to vote on while half the state was up in arms about the $25 million you spent on the Paige Arena? All of this insane spending, fundraising, and new regulations will do nothing but alienate the few of us who have remained loyal all these years when Mizzou was the laughing stock of the conference.

Today is the first football game. We have free passes to the Zimmer Radio group tailgate which will be located between the Football field and the old Hearnes center. They have kegs. Many, many kegs. I feel a political protest coming on. Wait'll they get a load of me. Wait'll.

Kindergarten Comedy Club

"How's Alex enjoying Kindergarten?" many of you have asked. I believe I can sum it up very simply for you. On Monday, the bus driver had to pull over and stop the vehicle in order to get Alex to cease running up and down the ailse with his Spiderman underwear on his head. He had extra clothes packed in his backpack and thought it would be funny to put on a show for his new friends on the bus. He said the kids thought it was funny. I bet they did.

Less than a week into school and he's already figured out how to work a crowd for laughs. I guess he's not the milkman's kid afterall.

You can imagine how proud I am.

Tailgate Update

I called the owner of the 1966 Chevy that I hoped would be the new tailgate truck and he said that he bought it from a friend a year ago to help his buddy raise some funds for an extended trip to Florida to take care of his sick mother. The buddy made him promise to never sell it since it had been in his family since it was new. Now the guy is moving back to Missouri (his mother died) and he wants his old truck back. Have you ever heard a more pathetic story? Doesn't he realize that we needed that truck?! He couldn't love it as much as we would have. It will probably rot in his yard, never knowing the joy of providing a party spot for dozens of college football fans.

So now I must look elsewhere for the next party wagon. The stock options deal still stands- should I ever find a suitable truck. I just can't tailgate out of the back of a minivan. It wouldn't be right. I think its against the law. At least it should be.

Help me find a truck. Keep your eyes, minds, and wallets open. It takes more than a fleeting glimpse to see the beauty within something over thirty years old. (I'm referring to trucks, not myself.)

The picture is another '66 Chevy after a little sprucing up. That's the beauty that I saw in the rust bucket.

Deal Sweetener

In addition to receiving a valuable and beautiful certificate of ownership of the Tailgatin' Truck on which a watermark depicting a scene from a tailgate party that took place a few years ago attended by Grant Barnes, John Briscoe, Bill Herrin, a couple of State Troopers, and many others, I will provide at no cost to the shareholders ice cold beer at every home football game that I am able to attend. (Shareholders with battle tested livers are encouraged to bring a buffer.)

Partial ownership of a bitchin' tailgatin' truck AND frothy beverages all for $25?! That's too good to pass up.

Tailgating Incorporated

$2500. That is how much the guy who currently owns what will soon be the newest tailgting truck wants for his vehicle. It is a 1966 Chevrolet half-ton, four wheel drive. It is a little rusty and still sports its original orange paint, but it has potential. He's asking about twice what the truck's worth, so I need to talk him down a little before I can drive it home. I might get him to sell it for $1800 or so. It needs a new set of tires. Plus the truck will need to have some body work done and be painted black in order to measure up to my tailgating standards. So here's the breakdown:

Sale price- $1800
Tires- $400
Paint & putty- $500
Tax & license- $100
Grand total- $2800

I think I can come with about $1500 or so. (I just sold "Old '76" at the auction yesterday for a whopping $500! Of course a digit was wrong on the VIN # on the title, so until it can be straightend out by the highway patrol and the state, I'll see none of the money.) This brings me to my plan. My mama inspired me when she asked everyone who's ever tailgated with us to chip in to buy a new truck. I thought, "Why not issue stock and have shareholders in the new truck?" So here it is. I will issue you one stock certificate for every $25 you contribute. There will only be 100 shares of stock issued worth a total of $2500. I will be the majority owner with 51 shares while issuing 49 shares to the public. 49 shares @ $25 each will raise $1225 for the purchase and partial restoration of the truck. In the unlikely event that the truck is ever sold, the proceeds will be divided among the shareholders in direct proportion to the amount of shares each person owns. (I will receive 51% of the money for my 51 shares, etc.)

This is my plan. There are 49 opportunities available to you to own a part of Travis's Tailgating Truck #4, Inc. You may purchase as many shares as you like until they are gone. So act now. Supplies are limited. Please email me : dacoynol@yahoo.com to order your shares. They will be issued on a first come-first serve basis, so don't delay.

Tailgating Truck # 4?

I've thrown enough money at my present Tiger Truck. After investing nearly $3000 over the year and a half I've owned it, the transmission is going out, the rebuilt brakes are failing, it won't stay in park, and only 4 of the 6 tires hold air. I have decided that artificially prolonging the life of this once proud truck is no longer in anyone's best interests. I hope to sell the truck for someone's project in order to acquire some seed money for a new tailgatin' truck project. But first, a brief history of my former trucks.

I have owned three tailgaters so far and I have fond memories of each. The first was a red and white 1978 Chevy 4x4 that pulled a trailor with a Chevy Corsica on it from here to Muncie, Indiana after Bethany and I graduated. After pulling two tons for over 1000 miles, I checked the truck out. No oil registered on the dipstick. No coolant was visible in the radiator. A bird's nest completely blocked the air intake hose. This glorious machine pulled a car cross-country with no oil, water, or air. Wow. And it made the move back to Missouri and served admirably at a few tailgate parties before I foolishly traded it away for a Pontiac Sunturd convertable. I miss that truck.

The next beauty was a former hog-haulling 1966 Chevy 1-ton dually. When Bethany first saw it she said, "Well, as long as you like it..." It had a flat bed complete with a set of steel stock panels that weighed well over 1000 pounds. Grant accompanied me when I bought it and he rightfully questioned my choice. It was only when I painted the beast black and gold (and with Grant's help removed the stock panels) that he realized the true tailgating potential the old sow had in her. Many of you remember the numerous tailgate parties that were hosted by that antique beauty. After a guy did some work on my '57 Chevy Bel Air, I traded the truck to him in exchange for his services. As I delivered it to the drop point, the engine blew, and oil rained down from under the hood. I am sure she was mad that I was parting ways with her. I miss that truck.

The third tailgater is a 1976 Chevy 1- ton dually. The truck was red when I bought it at an auction during my unsuccessful stint as a used car dealer. The initial $1300 was a fair price. Too bad I spent another $1300 fixing the brakes (which later failed), electrical, suspension, etc. But my flat-black paint job gave it an air of toughness that parallelled that of the Football Tigers in their home uniforms. I limped the slipping tranny through most of the past football season, only to be sidelined by two flat tires on the morning of the last game. It has sat in my driveway ever since. It makes me sad. I won't miss that truck.

Facing the prospect of not having a tailgatin' truck for the coming football season, I inquired today about a mid 1960's Chevy that was for sale a while ago. It didn't sell and the owner has continued to drive it regularly. I left him a note expressing my interest in his vehicle. The truck is very original, has four wheel drive, a step side bed, and is begging for a black and gold paint job and an opportunity to prove itself as the next and hopefully best tailgating truck of them all. I hope that selling "Old '76" will help fund the purchase of this new prospect and ensure that the Naughtons and their damned old trucks will continue to host tailgating parties at Ol' Mizzou for years to come.

Wish me luck.

Send money.

And black spray paint.

Done with Disney

I have decided not to divulge every last detail about the last three days of the Disney trip. Suffice it to say that we went back to the Magic Kingdom for a second day, went to Epcot on Friday, and then drove 19 hours straight to get home. The drive was the most exciting part of those three days. Bethany "Mrs. Magoo" couldn't drive at night because her glasses were now a part of the Atlantic Ocean ecosystem. That forced me to drive from 8:00pm to 5:00 am. When I became delirious from sleep deprivation at about 2:00, Bethany took over for a short while. Within 15 seconds of her getting behind the wheel, Magoo (wearing her prescription sunglasses) nearly drove down a 30 foot earthen embankment instead of the on-ramp to the highway. Ater Jessica and I stopped crying, I got a little shut-eye. I was jolted from my slumber in East St. Louis when my dear wife began to freak out trying to read street signs while attemting re-entry into Missouri. I guided her to a place to pull over so that I could take over again. The gas station we pulled into was occupied by four police cars, one K-9 unit barking loudly, and several "cuffed and stuffed" suspects. We opted to get gas later. At 5:00 am, we finally arrived at home. I felt as though I had been in a 15 round heavyweight bout. I was sore, exhausted, and punch-drunk. Our Disney Odyssey had concluded. What a long, strange trip it had been.

I swore off driving vacations for a while. Bethany however, got a new pair of glasses and said, "Tennessee sure was pretty. I wouldn't mind going back there next year." Of course she was admiring the Volunteer State through sunglasses at night.

"That sounds nice, dear."

Happy Anniversary, Baby

On Saturday, with a little help from friends and family, I hosted a surprise 10th anniversary party for Bethany. Despite a few close-calls, she never suspected a thing. After working Saturday, Bethany pulled into our driveway where 39 people were eagerly awaiting her arrival. (Most of you reading this now were probably there.) Her smile was so big and bright that it was clearly visible thru the tinted windows of her van. I am a joker sometimes (okay, a lot of the time), but all kidding aside, it was incredibly satisfying to see her that happy. The majority of our family and friends were able to attend, and we missed those who couldn't make it. Thank you to everyone who attended or sent along best wishes. You helped the luckiest husband alive make his wife the happiest woman alive.

Non-Disney Day

After being innundated with Disney propaganda for three straight days, we decided to take a day off from the House of Mouse and take in the local culture. Nothing says Florida like alligators, so off we went to "Gatorland". If my stupid computer would let me post pictures you could see Alex and Olivia sitting on the back of a real, live alligator. After a gator wrestling demonstration by the trained pros, kids were given their chance to tame the beasts with the help of a little duct tape (one million uses and counting.) We also saw plenty of birds, snakes, and crocodiles while we were there.

After the novelty wore off, we loaded up the vans and headed to Cocoa Beach. All Alex could talk about while at Gatorland was wanting to find shells in the ocean. Well, he found a ton of shells. He couldn't have cared less about the view, the dolphins swimming near us, or the water itself. He had shells, and he was happy. His mommy helped him find the discarded mollusk exoskeletons at the expense of her corrective eyewear. Moments after I reminded her to take her prescription sunglasses off before entering the water, she was blindsided by a wave as she was bent over combing the surf for treasures. She heeded my warning about removeing her shades (much to my surprise). However at some point she switched to her regular eyeglasses and promptly lost them in the great blue sea. We searched in vain for them for about 14 hours to no avail. Had she been wearing her shades instead of her clear (and nearly invisible while underwater) regular glasses, we probably would have found them. So you see, it was all my fault that they were lost. Had I just kept my mouth shut she would have been wearing the darker sunglasses which would have been easy to find in the shallow surf.

It had to be my fault. I am the husband. I would pay for my mistake days later during the 19 hour drive home. Details in a future posting...

Disney Day 5

With a clean pair of underwear and some new found confidence after having survived The Tower of Terror (and two days at Disney world with four kids under the age of 6), we made the first of two forays into The Magic Kingdom. For the first time since we arrived in Florida, it felt really hot. As we wandered about exploring the park, I became lightheaded and woozy. Exhaustion from the car ride and the 16 hours spent in the Happiest Place in the World added to my condition. Luckily we sat down to eat lunch at what appeared to be a pirate-themed restaurant near the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. The cuisine was decidedly un-pirate however. But the tacos and Diet Coke restored my health well enough.

After lunch we went on the Pirates ride which of course had no chance of living up to the hype that was created by the new movie. Captain Jack Sparrow was a novel addition to the crew of pirates in the ride and Alex seemed to enjoy it. After that, we walked past the Hannibal/Tom Sawyer attraction (it really is a "small world after all!") and headed toward the roller coasters. We got fast passes for the runaway train ride and headed over to a kiddie coaster to get ourselves ready for the good one. We waited in line for 20 minutes only to be on Goofy's Barnstormer for all of 15 seconds. It only fueled my new found lust for thrills and adreneline that the "am I going to die" rides provide.

Using our fastpasses, we slipped right up to the front of the line for the Runaway Train. Alex and I sat in the front row. We were both nervous and excited. Within seconds of the ride starting, Alex slid down in his seat so he wouldn't have to see what was coming. I explained to him that he had to sit up lest he slide under the restraint bar and out of the train. He complied and realized at once how much fun roller coasters can be. As we descended the biggest hill at top speed, Alex yelled at the top of his lungs, "I was born for this!!!" This time when he asked if he could do it again I said yes and he rode with Mommy a second time.

After six or seven hours, the Magic Kingdom began to lose some magic, so we headed home. It was decided that we would take a day off from Disney and then return to the Kingdom on Thursday to see everything we ran out of time and energy for. Wednesday would be our chance to "go native" while in Florida. We would be visiting Gatorland and Cocoa Beach. Let's just say, kids and alligators mix a lot better than ocean waves and eyeglasses...

Disney Day 4

Our second day at Disney World and fourth day of vacation was spent at Disney/MGM Studios. Everyone remembered their tickets this time and a light rain kept us cool most of the day. We saw the Muppet Show in 3-D, took pictures with Sheriff Woody from "Toy Story" and toured The Haunted Mansion. Everything was going really well until I lost my mind and agreed to ride the "Tower of Terror!"

Those who know me are aware of my crippling fear of heights. Bethany had to clean our gutters this spring because in the 8 years we have lived in our house, I have never made it high enough on a ladder to complete the task myself. So agreeing to go on a ride with an advertised 13 story free-fall was one of the bravest things I have ever volunteered to do. The inspiration for this ride was derived from an old episode of the Twilight Zone in which a family meets their doom in the bottom of an elevator shaft in a creepy, old hotel. Heights and ghosts- great! 4 year old Morgan and 5 year old Alex were brave enough to not let the spooky setting deter them from their quest to ride, so I felt compelled to put on a brave face.

Shortly after entering the elevator, the lights went out. I could feel Alex squirming in his seat. I assured him that everything was fine. No one was reassuring me, however. We then moved to a floor where the doors opened up to reveal an image of the doomed family of ghosts. Everyone in the elevator became nervous. Then, the lights went out and we starting ascending rapidly. We paused just long enough to ponder what would happen next when we dropped like a bag of hammers. Screams pierced my eardrums as we plummeted to our demise. When we stopped, I realized that it was me, not Morgan, who was screaming like a little girl. Relieved to be alive, I relaxed the death grip I had on Alex's arm just before the elevator rocketed to the top of the building. I screamed bloody murder until we peaked at the top of the tower. For a split second we were weightless and elated to be alive. Just then, the doors opened in front of us to reveal a view from 130 feet above the park. It was both beautiful and terrifying. We were in that position long enough to realize just how high 130 feet is when all of the sudden we dropped again. I am fairly certain that I was crying. I prayed for the ride to stop. I told God that from now on I would be a good boy. I would do my homework every day. I would stop picking on my brother. I would stop picking my nose. I would stop hanging out with the bad kids. I would save myself for marriage. Anything- just make it stop! And it did stop. And I was so happy. My prayers had been answered! What a relief! I didn't die. It wasn't so bad. I guess I didn't need Divine intervention afterall. I didn't really mean any of that stuff I said anyway. I was just scared. God would understand. Then we dropped again. And stopped. And dropped again. And stopped. And then we went all the way to the top fast enough make my eye balls melt into the back of my skull. At the top the doors flew open again to reveal our mind-numbingly high altitude. "Mommy." And then we really dropped. 130 feet straight down. (We found out later that we were dropping at twice the rate of gravity due to Disney engineering!) As we neared rock bottom, so did my spirit. I decided to accept my fate that my life was now over. I would no longer fight it. As I prepared to be launched into the hereafter again and again I realized that we were finally stopped for good and that the rest of the people on the ride were leaving. Miraculously I had survived! Shaking like a Chihuahua in a Pit Bull's food bowl, I exited the compartment. I leaned over and asked Alex if he was alright.

"Let's do that again, Dad!"

Maybe some other lifetime, Son. Daddy needs a new pair of shorts.

Disney Trip Day Three: Welcome to the Jungle

After a good night's rest, my hallucinations went away long enough to allow me to function as close to normal as any Naughton can. The Naughtons and the Heckers packed the minivans with kids and headed to Disney's Animal Kingdom. It was a 20 minute drive followed by a ride on the Disney tram, which dropped us off at the front of the park. We arrived at around noon. As everyone approached the entrance, Charla had a revelation. "Who has the tickets?"

Stunned looks from everyone.

"Doug, did you bring the tickets?!"

"No."

"Love of my life, would you please be kind enough to go and retrieve said tickets from our luxurious accomidations back at the resort?"

"Certainly, dear. It would be my distinct pleasure." And off Doug went back on the tram, back to the van, back to the hotel, back to Disney, back to the tram, and finally back to the entrance while we waited in the gift shop.

"Thank you ever so much, my sweet," Charla said.

"Anything for you, my love," said Doug, who executed his husbandly duties without a moment's hesitation or argument.

Well, that's my interpretation of the conversation. Doug and Char may not have used those exact words, but you get the idea. I could feel the love. For the record, the Naughtons remembered to bring our tickets- as unbelievable as that may seem. For the rest of the day we saw neat animals (including some awesome dinosaurs), rode some decent rides, and had a lot of fun. The picture shows us in front of the Everest ride in the Nepal section of the park. The wait was too long to ride the coaster, but it made for a neat picture. And yes, all eleven members of our party were wearing tie-dye shirts made by Char, Olivia, and Morgan. Pretty cool, eh? At the end of our first day in the parks, we went back to the resort and swam in the pool. Alex swam like a dying baitfish, but he had a blast doing it. Bedtime brought the anticipation of another day of adventure on Monday. We would be going to Disney/MGM Studios that day. I can sum up that day in three words, "Tower of Terror!" Stay tuned...

Confucius says, "Always make sure you have your tickets before you leave the house."

Disney Day Two

Upon arriving at the luxurious Marriott Vacation Club Resort in Orlando after driving 18 hours straight, our rooms were not ready. A nap was all I had been thinking about for the last 6 or 8 hours of our drive and suddenly it was like someone had waited till Christmas Eve to tell me there was no Santa Claus. I was devastated. I told Bethany that I felt like crying. A real man can admit that. We were tired and hungry, so we ate lunch at the exotic Denny's a few blocks down the road while we waited to get into our rooms. After eating a mega-grand slam, I really needed a nap, so we went back to the resort where we discovered only one of our rooms was ready. It was decided that I and baby Duncan would share the room while everyone else swam at the pool. Problem was, Duncan decided he didn't need a nap. At the tender age of three months, he became a mini-olympian doing gymnastics and threatening to tumble right off the bed while I sat idly by and tried to sleep. Therefore, I gave up my quest for rest and assumed responsiblity for the boy's safety. I abandoned all hope for sleep and embraced my destiny. I was in the land of Disney afterall, and I knew I would not get much rest for the rest of the week. I'll sleep when I'm dead, I told myself. I prayed that day would come soon. Damn that Mouse!

Disney Trip Day One

Bethany, Alex, our niece Jessica, and myself planned on setting out on our adventure at about 4:00pm on Friday the 14th. We left Columbia at 6:00. Imagine that- the Naughtons running late. Alex wrote in his journal about our trip and I hope to post scanned images from it on this blog soon. I took over the driving from Bethany when the sun went down because she has a hard time seeing in the dark. (This is an important fact to keep in mind when I describe our return trip home later on.)

Somewhere in the middle of Georgia or maybe Tennessee, I began to go insane. Not just a little goofy. Completely mad. For a while I could have sworn that the Care Bears were dancing on the hood of the van obstructing my view of the road. Just north of Atlanta I had a conversation with a moonshiner about his experiences at Disney World.

"You ever been to Disney?" I asked the old hillbilly.

"Yeah, my family took me when I was a boy."

"How was it?"

"It was real good till I realized that they left me."

"Who left you?"

"My momma and daddy. I yelled outloud, 'Why you done gone and left me momma!? What I ever done to you!? Don't you love me no more!?' Course by then it was pretty obvious what the answer to that question was."

"That's awful. I can't believe they did that to you."

"Well, I suppose I had it comin'. I was a pretty ornery child."

"Still, you didn't deserve to be abandoned by your family."

"Still? Still!? Where's a still? That reminds me, I got a batch of hooch cookin' right now. I better run."

"Good talkin' to ya!" I yelled to the old-timer.

"You, too young fella," the man replied.

Then I realized that I was driving a mini-van at 75 mph on a dark highway in the middle of Georgia. Apparently there was never on old whiskey-runner talking to me about his childhood experiences in Orlando. When I made this realization, I pulled over and made Bethany drive the rest of the way to the resort. The sun began to rise, the birds began to sing, and I began to recount my conversation with my alter-ego to Bethany and Jessica. They found it very amusing and were as relieved as I was that I was no longer hallucinating behind the wheel.

Next installment: Day 2.

Hey, is that a Care Bear over there?

Surviving Disney

I am happy to report that after a week in Orlando, the Naughtons are safe and sound in Missouri once again. In the coming days, I will blog about the events and happinings that occurred during our week in the Land Of Mickey Mouse. For now, suffice it to say that after spending over 50 hours in a minivan during the past nine days, words can not express how tired I am. I simply have no energy for creative blogging right now. Therefore, you should check the blog every day this week for a day-by-day account of our first family vacation.

PS: Happy 14th birthday to not-so-little brother Taylor. Hope you had a good one.

Countdown to The Mouse

In five days, we will embark upon a pilgrimage to the home of Mickey Mouse. That's right, Disney World in Orlando, Florida. Each parent is contractually bound to make this voyage with their children at least once in their lifetime as part of the agreement in which the kids will someday agree to move out of the house. And it wouldn't be a Chevy Chase style family vacation without the obligatory road trip. Yes, we are driving 18 hours to spend five days at the happiest place on earth. Hopefully, unlike with the Griswolds when they arrived at Walley World, the amusement park will be open when we get there.

It gets better. Once we arrive, we will stay with Charla, Doug, their kids, Doug's mom, and our niece Jessie. There will be two teenagers and four kids six years of age and younger in our group. I keep hearing Clark Griswold saying, "This is crazy. This is crazy. This is crazy." I think I will chronicle our exploits and post the accounts of our journey on the blog. I kept a journal when I was a kid on our family vacation to D.C. It has been lost over this years however. Electronic journals are easier to keep track of. To read the Journal that Bill Herrin and I kept during our roadtrip to Vegas, click on the "Excellent Adventures" link on the right of this page. Click on the scanned images of the actual pages of the Journal to enlarge them so they are more intelligible. Not intelligent... intelligible.

Wish us "bon voyage." We just had a $1200 transmission put in our van two days ago. (Good timing.) So much for our "Disney on a Budget" theory. They have beer in Florida, right?

Flashback

We ventured to the land that time forgot over the holiday weekend. That is Hannibal MO. Not much has changed in the sleepy little river town that Mark Twain made famous over 150 years ago. Oh sure, they have electricity now, but its still Twain's Hannibal. There is of course the Mark Twain Boyhhod Home and Museum, Becky Thatcher's house, the lighthouse on Cardiff Hill, Mark Twain Cave, etc. Its like stepping back in time whenever visiting that town.

One particular moment caused me to instantly flashback to my formative years in Hannibal. I ran into my high school sweetheart, Liz. (My lovely wife doesn't get jealous when I talk about Liz because Bethany actually dated Liz's brother Adam when she was in high school.) Small towns!!! Anyway, when I saw Liz, I was suddenly transported back to the old days when she and I were together. I remembered how we had made big plans for our future and that we thought we would always be together. Alas, it wasn't meant to be. Instead we have both married well, and produced healthy and happy offspring. As strange as it sounds, when I saw Liz's kids for the first time, a part of me thought, "those could have been my kids" had things gone a little differently. But my momma has always said, "Everything happens for a reason." If Liz and I would have stayed together, Alex would have never been born. Neither would Liz's boys. Bethany would probably be married to a doctor and living in a mansion by now, but she wouldn't be as happy. I may not make a lot of money, but I'm pretty sure nobody could make her laugh like I do. And I helped create that devil of a child that she loves more than anything in the world. So I guess momma was right.

Still, it was great to see Liz again. She looked great and seemed to relish her role as a mom. We have both come a long way since those awkward teenage years. I guess some things from Hannibal do change.