New Year's Resolutions

Its hard to believe that its that time of year again. Soon I will have posted my resolutions on this blog for the third straight year. Time flies... Here's a recap of my '07 list:

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.

Well, I didn't spend a weekend alone in the woods, but we did camp as a family for a week in Colorado. The clubhouse/party porch did get built. The truck got fixed up and is a stellar tailgating truck. I haven't mastered the art of catfishing, but I've got a plan for that in '08. Resolutions #4 thru #10 are going pretty well too, although I have much more to learn about Buddhism. All in all, I think I did a pretty good job of sticking to my resolutions this year. How did you do? Please feel free to leave your comments here regarding your take on New Year's Resolutions. On my next posting I will list my resolutions for '08. Until then, Happy Holidays everybody!

Snow Day '07

I may hate ice, but I don't mind a little snow. In fact, it can be a lot of fun. Alex and I went sledding this morning and the dogs "enjoyed" a brief foray into the white stuff. Well, Woody (Elwood) and Princess frolicked a bit, but Ol' Jake- not so much. He actually stood on the porch and took a dump rather than get his delicate feet wet in the snow. I guess when you're 91 you can crap wherever you want. Lately, Jake has taken to plopping a fresh one in the middle of his bed. So we really don't mind it if he decides to "redecorate" the porch.

Happy Snow Day, everyone! Enjoy some time with your kids (two-legged or four.)

A Few Thoughts On Ice

I hate ice. There, I said it. After over half an inch of ice accumulated Saturday night, our power went out. It was out for about 13 hours before the hard-working folks at AmerenUE got service restored. Then it iced again Monday night. Our power was out again until about 7:30 Tuesday evening. In the spirit of Charles Ingalls, I kept the homefires burning while Ma kept food in our bellies and made fireplace coffee and hot chocolate. At one point I ventured out to collect more firewood only to be turned back when a massive tree limb fell onto my woodpile just in front of me. I may not have been killed, but I doubt I would be able to type this had I been hit.

The inch or so of ice on our driveway has made the tailgatin' truck indispensible. Especially when you consider that over a half-dozen trees are bent down to the ground along our driveway obstructing our path in and out of our homestead. I have been forced to drive in the neighbor's field just to get out. Since Bethany's van cannot be driven, I have been driving her to town where she has a company car parked overnight. And I used the truck to pull a van out of an icy patch on our gravel road the other night. The other driver is a furnace repairman who was very grateful and offered his services to us next time our furnace quits (which it has done twice before).

Things aren't all bad, though. I had to take Alex and Bethany to town today, so I got to work way too early- thus affording me this opportunity to do a little blogging before clocking in. While at the gas station in Ashland this morning I got to meet several AmerenUE linesmen. I thanked them for their hardwork and told them to tell their crews how grateful we were to have power again this morning. One guy took a particular liking to my truck and asked if he could have his picture taken by it. I said of course and then he whipped out his University of Illinois hat and posed for some photos that he planned on sending to his son- a Mizzou graduate.

The neatest thing about the Ice Storm of 2007 was taking advantage of the lack of technological distractions around the house. Our family played games by firelight, cozied up together in front of the fireplace, and read together. Per Brother Blake's suggestion, I actually pulled out Laura Ingalls Wilder's "Little House in the Big Woods" and read it to my family last night. I managed to get through the first couple of chapters before our lights came back on. You know what? I kept reading for a little while because I really enjoyed the peace and quiet and the simple pleasures of "pioneer living." A part of me was actually sad to see the lights come back on. But quickly I realized how lucky we all were to have power again and then I microwaved some vittles for us to eat.

After work today I get to cut down a few trees so that Bethany can get her van out tomorrow. Maybe I'll use an ax like Pa Ingalls... Nah. I'm pretty sure he'd use a chainsaw if he had one.

The Rewards of Living Debt-Free

Financial guru Dave Ramsey says, "Live like no one else so that later you can live like no one else." You have undoubtedly read my posts on this blog supporting Dave's plan. Here it is in a nutshell:

1. Aggressively pay off debts. Using "gazelle intensity", focus on paying off one debt at a time beginning with the smallest one first. This "debt snowball" will gather momentum as you pay off debts until one day you become debt-free.

2. What to do with all that extra money (Part 1)?

a. Set aside some money in an emergency fund.

b. Invest in your retirement.

3. What to do with all that extra money after fully funding the emergency fund?

a. Continue to invest toward retirement.

b. Give to charity.

c. Save money to buy things with cash so that you'll never have debt again.

I am happy to report that we are at step three finally. My reward for "living like no one else" is that I get to by a new(er) car. My 1996 ex-cop car is flirting with 180,000 miles. It still runs very well, but is getting a little rough around the edges. Sometime in early 2008, I plan to buy a 2004 Ford Police Interceptor with less than 70,000 miles. Why another cop car you may ask?

#1: More power. The 2004 model is the first to offer 250 horsepower and nearly 300 ft lb of torque.

#2: Better handling. 2004 was the first year that Ford placed the rear shocks outside of the frame rails giving the car a sportier ride and more stability when cornering.

#3: Sleek looks. The newer body style of the 2004 "Crown Vic" is way cool to look at.

Why a cop car in the first place? There are very few choices when one desires a rear wheel drive, V8 powered, four door car. BMW and Mercedes are about the only other options on the market, but who can afford those? The Interceptor also has heavy duty shocks, an oil-cooler, a transmission cooler, a high-amp alternator, and of course- a spotlight to aim at drunks downtown (just kidding). Besides, no one pulls out of the fast lane to let a Beemer or Mercedes by, but you can bet your ass a new cop car will move 'em over.

"Livin' like no one else"- that pretty much sums me up wouldn't you say?

Innocence Lost (and Found)

Can you look back at your life and pinpoint the exact moment that your childhood innocence was lost? It may have been the first time you stole something, had sex, witnessed a murder, etc. I can tell you the exact moment in time that changed me forever.

I was a 17 year old boy living in Hannibal, Mo back in 1988. On a cold, wintry day I went to my friend Rick's house to hang out. When I arrived, Rick said his folks were gone for the day and we were going to raid their liquor cabinet. I initially hesitated, but eventually caved to the pressure. Rick told me if I didn't drink a shot, then he would pour it all over me so that my dad would smell alcohol on me when I went home. Eighteen shots and a bologna sandwich later, I puked my guts out all over his house. A little while later my girlfriend, who was back in town during winter break, came over and tried to comfort me as I recovered from the ordeal. (The irony is that she had been a bit of a party girl before we began dating and I told her that I would not tolerate being with someone who drank. We were only in high school after all. She never drank a drop the entire two years we were together, but after she went off to college, we both made some pretty lousy choices.) I was ashamed of myself, and as I sobered up I realized my dad would be coming to pick me up soon. I knew Dad would kill me as soon as he smelled me, so I made my peace with the universe and prepared to die.

When I got in the car, Dad looked at me and asked, "What's that smell?" My heart skipped a beat as I tried to think of an answer. Before I could speak he added, "It smells like hot dogs." Amazed at my luck, I replied that I had just eaten a bologna sandwich (which was true) and he let it go. Right then and there my life was forever changed. My innocence was gone. One day I was this honest kid who never lied to his parents, never drank alcohol, and never hung out with the "wrong crowd". The next day, I was everything I despised.

Years later, I broke off the friendship that started me down the wrong path. I asked myself how I let someone influence me in such negative ways. Sure, I had a lot of fun during my "party days", but at what cost? The biggest cost was paid in the form of another friendship that virtually ended at the same time that my friendship with Rick developed.

Trey Latta was my best friend from fourth through tenth grade. For seven years, we were inseparable. We both were products of divorced parents, enjoyed the same activities, and lived a few blocks from each other. Its fair to say I spent more time at Trey's house than at my own during those years. In fact, my mom rented and occupied the basement of Trey's house for a few years. We were more like brothers than friends. When high school rolled around, I spent more and more time with Rick, who sat beside me in band. Eventually, Trey started spending more time with other people too, and after a time, we stopped hanging out altogether. Trey didn't go out drinking every weekend. He didn't lie to his parents. He didn't turn his back on his childhood friend. But I sure did. Although I cherish my other friends now, I've never had a bond with any of them nearly as strong as the one I had with Trey. My best friendship was lost at the same time as my innocence back in 1988. I ran into Trey during college once in a while, but until this past weekend I hadn't seen nor spoken to him since our ten-year reunion in back in 2000.

Thanks to my blog, Trey found me and contacted me a few weeks ago. We emailed back and forth and he said that he is living in St. Peters, Mo now. I told him that I would be in his town for the grand opening of our new Treats Unleashed store on Dec. 1 and we made plans to get together. When I saw him walking into the store, my anxiety instantly faded away and smiles spread over both of our faces. I met his beautiful wife and children. He met Alex (Bethany had to work that day). We asked about each other's parents, siblings, grandparents, etc. We watched his 18 month old son eat cookie after cookie while my son was sneaking even more behind my back. We laughed about old memories and talked for over an hour. In that short amount of time, all of those warm feelings of our childhood returned, without any ill feelings or resentment whatsoever. It was great to see Trey again.

I've come a long way since that day at Rick's house. (I hate to say this) I've matured. I've learned. I've healed. I am pretty much the person I want to be. Its been a long process, but when I spoke to my old friend that day I got the sense that I had found what was once lost: A best friend. A brother. My innocence. My self. And for the first time in decades, I realized that I actually like who I am. That's a pretty good feeling. Thanks Trey.

What Really Matters?

Sure, the Tigers blew their chance at a national championship. Did it make me and thousands of other Mizzou fans physiclly ill? You bet. But does it really matter? It is just a game afterall. Why then, do we allow ourselves to spiritually live and die through a sports team's successes and failures? It can't be that football or other sports are so important that the universe will cease to be if the games weren't played. There must be something else that compells us to invest so much of our hearts and souls on the outcome of a game played by people we don't even know.

My theory is that watching sports is an attempt to fill a void in our lives. Somehow, being a fan of a team is a replacement for something we perceive to be missing in our souls. Being a vicarious part of a team somehow gives us something to live for, even if we have a family and friends and a great job to fill that role. We all yearn to be a part of something greater than ourselves. Religion has primarily served in this capacity for thousands of years. Man needs to know that he fits into a bigger plan. He needs to feel like there is something more than working, eating, sleeping, and dying. Religion and sports give him something else to live for.

Why does man feel this need to be a part of something bigger than himself? Why can't we be content with enjoying the simple pleasures of our daily lives? Savoring a good meal, breathing in fresh mountain air, completing a difficult task at work, holding hands with a spouse, listening to a child's laughter, and waking up refreshed after a good night's sleep are all simple things that we should derive great satisfaction from. A Buddhist would say that we should practice right-mindfulness. We should take the time to stop and appreciate these gifts we receive everyday. They are not complicated, yet when we take a moment to appreciate them, we realize how fortunate we are to have them. We understand how incredibly lucky we are to have a family, our health, an occupation, etc. When we pause to contemplate how blessed we are to experience these great things, then we find joy and true happiness in this life. We no longer need to look outside of ourselves for something more to satisfy us. We don't need to live vicariously through a sports team in order to feel that we are a part of something wonderful. We already are a part of such a thing. It is called life.

Be grateful. Be joyous. Be in the moment. Be content. The key to happiness is simply to take a moment everyday to realize how blessed we are. If the Tigers win, then that's just icing on the cake.

Life is a Roller Coaster

Ups and downs. Peaks and valleys. Good and bad. That's life. Its like a roller coaster ride. Come ride with me:

Adoption Update: "WAIT TIME FROM LID TO REFERRAL - The current waiting time from log in date until referral is 24 months. We fully expect the wait time from log in date to referral to grow over 2 years in 2008 and continue to climb over time to possibly 4 years." This is the update we received from our adoption agency today. They visited with the Chinese Center for Adoption Affairs (CCAA) recently and asked about the ever-increasing wait time from the moment the CCAA receives an approved family's dossier to the time they give a referral for a child. They said it is entirely possible for the wait time to be as long as four years!!! They claim that they receive over 1000 dossiers per month but can only process 600 per month. They went on to say that in April (two months before they received our dossier) the CCAA received 4000 dossiers. Four years, huh?

Missouri Tigers: Unless you live under a rock, you already know that Mizzou's football team is ranked #1 in the country. A win tomorrow night in the Big XII Championship will guarantee that the Tigers will play for the National Championship. Unbelievable. After being a Mizzou fan through the absolute worst of times, I am finally witnessing the very best of times. Talk about roller coasters!

My Mom: Mom has completed all of her scheduled radiation and chemotherapy treatments. She is feeling pretty good (all things considered). She is scheduled for follow-up CT scans and MRI's in mid December. We will find out then if the tumors are gone or if she will require more treatments. Keep her in your thoughts, please. Send her some positive vibes.

Brother Blake: Blake and Meredith just bought a house in Baltimore, Maryland. The week before closing, the mortgage company informed them that they needed a second inspection before they would approve the loan. Then, the day before closing, the same company insisted that Blake and Mer needed to cough up over $3,000 to cover taxes, etc that they never mentioned previously. Then, on closing day the movers showed up several hours late, forcing Blake and Mer to rent a U-Haul and finish the job themselves in order to be out of their old place in time for the new tenants to move in. The best part: The mortgage company misspelled "mortgage" in every appearance of the word in their contracts. Wow.

Alexander the Great: Tonight will be the official beginning to Alex's basketball career. His first practice will be held at his school's gym/lunch room. His mother and his aunt should be able to teach him how to throw elbows and get hit with technical fouls. I think he may be a power forward with his height advantage over his fellow players.

Joliet Jake Blues: Our four-legged son Jake has been "coughing" a lot lately so I took him to the vet Monday. She diagnosed him as having Congestive Heart Failure. He has fluid around his heart and possibly more in his lungs. I listened with a stethoscope to the heart murmur and labored breathing. It was painfully obvious. The doctor gave him Lasix to rid him of the excess fluid and another medicine to make him comfortable. She said he should be in intensive care were it not for the fact that at nearly 13 years of age, there is very little they can do for him that we can't. We are continuing his medications and were told to make sure he stays calm and relaxed to minimize the stress on his heart. (He sleeps 23 hours a day when he's healthy, so that won't be a problem.) With his dementia, bladder control issues, partial blindness and deafness, stiff joints, and failing heart, Ol' Jake may not have much longer to be with us. So if you come by the house sometime, be sure to tell the old guy "hello."

I used to hate roller coasters. But I learned that life is pretty boring on a straight track. I might as well sit back and enjoy the ride.

Ask and Ye Shall Receive

We're Number One

That's right. For the first time in my lifetime, the Missouri Tigers are the #1 football team in the country. The most beautiful sight my eyes have seen since my bride was in her wedding gown was the image of KU's quarterback Todd Reesing standing up after being sacked for a safety to end the Jayhawk's season. As he dejectedly walked off the field he had to endure the further embarrassment of trying to remove the three pounds of turf embedded in his facemask when Lorenzo Williams planted him in the field. Beautiful.

That poster will be on my Christmas list.

Blog Daddy Goes Legit?

A blogger is a rogue columnist. He doesn't answer to an editor. He can write whatever he wants without worry of getting fired by a publisher trying to sell advertisements and newspapers. Bloggers are the "pirate radio" operators of the 21st century. I am a blogger through and through, but could I go "legit" and become a columnist?

I had thought about the prospect of writing for a paper for some time. The other day, I decided to go for it. I tweaked my resume, submitted some writing samples, and wrote a solid cover letter. I submitted these materials via a local newspaper publisher's email and prepared to hold my breath for a few days, weeks, or months to get a reply. I received a response within 12 hours.

On Sunday morning I received a reply from Bruce Wallace, the publisher of the Boone County Journal. He prasied my blog (I had sent him some links to a few of my favorite posts so he could review them as writing samples) and said he enjoyed reading it very much. He appreciated my interest in writing but declined to offer me a position at his paper due to having several columnists already. (He actually had six columnists when he bought the paper a few years ago, but has managed to reduce the number over the years.) Instead, he is focusing on reporting more actual "news." Imagine that- news in a newspaper. The funny thing is that Bruce actually asked if he could add a link to my blog to his newspaper's website. I told him I was flattered, but that my uncensored content probably would offend his readers from time to time, so I respectfully declined.

So now you know the story of how Blog Daddy almost went legit. "Whew! That was a close one!" Now where was I... oh yeah...Shit, Piss, Bitch, Ass, etc. Try to get away with writing that in a newspaper.

Making the World a Better Place

We've all talked the talk. We each have stated at least once since we were old enough to realize that we have a conscience that we want to make the world a better place. It is a noble goal. Most of us really do mean it when we are young and idealistic. How many of us, when we grow up, make a sincere effort to live out that ambitious goal? Do you? After watching Nobel Prize and Academy Award winner Al Gore's documentary "An Inconvenient Truth", I asked the same question of myself. My answer was "I do."

I almost missed the most important message of Gore's film. It was embedded within the closing credits. Simple, one sentence thoughts on how to reduce one's carbon footprint, reduce pollution, and stop global warming were mixed in with the various film credits. I was proud to learn that our family already does many of the things mentioned. Here are a few:

1. Use a programable thermostat in your home. We set ours at 65 degrees in winter while we're at work and overnight and at 67 degrees when we're at home and awake. In summer, we have it set at 78 during the day while we're at work and 75 when we're home.

2. Use new, energy efficient appliances. We recently upgraded our refrigerator, stove, and washer & dryer. All operate way more effciently and we have already received an adjusted bill from our utility company that reduced our projected energy consumption based on the past few months usage.

3. Use less water. We did not water our lawn a single time during the long, hot, dry summer we just endured. Sure, the yard is half dead, but that just means less mowing which in turn means less gas burned in the mower which means less carbon dioxide emissions. We used so little water this summer that our lagoon completely dried up for the first time in the eight years we have lived in our house.

4. Recycle. Our family of three, which also feeds and supplies seven pets, usually places only one garbage bag on the curb every week. Often we wait an extra week to take the trash out because our garbage can is rarely ever full even after seven days. We recycle every plastic container that Columbia accepts (#1 & #2 plastics), and all glass bottles, aluminum cans, tin cans, paper, and cardboard that we use.

5. Use alternate fuels for vehicles. Bethany and I both drive vehicles that can use either gasoline or ethanol. As I have written before, E85 ethanol reduces carbon emissions slightly. More importantly, it is a completely renewable resource that is currently made from corn, but can be even more enviornmentaly friendly when made from bio-mass such as fast growing switchgrass, compost, sugar cane, and other yet to be developed technologies. In the near future, more of the trucks that haul ethanol to storage tanks and filling stations and the tractors that are used to grow the crops to make ethanol will be running on blends of bio-diesel made from renewable resources like soybeans and vegetable oil. This will make using e85 a very earth-friendly choice.

6. Teach the younger generation about ways to save the planet. Bethany and I have taught Alex about protecting the enviornment since he was old enough to listen. He has a profound love of nature and a desire to protect it. When he was four years old, Alex starred in a home movie in which he toured our woods talking about habitat protection and wildlife management. Conservation will be in the hands of the next generation soon. It is our responsiblity to teach the children well.

Have you ever told yourself or someone else that you want to make the world a better place? Have you ever thought about the legacy that our children will inherit? Are you willing to change the way you live in order to ensure that your grandchildren won't have to live in a world devoid of the natural wonders that we have enjoyed thus far in our lives? If so, take action now and do what you can to reverse the climate crisis. "Save the World!" You'll be a hero if you do. Especially in your children's eyes. What could matter more?

My Apologies, Coach Pinkel

First, let me just say, I am not a fairweather fan. I had Mizzou season tickets from 1990 thru 1994 when the Tigers managed to win just three games per year. I rejoiced when Larry Smith brought home our first winning season in fourteen years back in 1996. I have stuck by the team through a few "ups" and a lot of "downs."

Fast-forward to 2005. On this very blog I called for the firings of Mike Alden, Quin Snider, and Gary Pinkel. Snider and his staff had been implicated in multiple NCAA violations and couldn't manage to get into the Big Tournament. Pinkel had the Uber-talented Brad Smith, but couldn't manage to beat Kansas. And Mike Alden was the guy who hired both of these overrated coaches. He also raised ticket prices, ended all free-parking privileges at games, and banned kegs from tailgates. In short, I was disgusted with the whole athletic department.

Well, Alden made a wise choice to do-away with Quin in favor of the very highly respected Mike Anderson. He also stuck by Pinkel, who had an ace up his sleeve named Chase Daniel. Apparently as athletic as Brad Smith was, he was not a pure-passing quarterback. Unlike Daniel, he did not thrive in the "spread offense" formation that Pinkel is so fond of. It turns out, Pinkel had to change the way he ran his offense to accommodate the natural talents Smith had. It appeared that Pinkel's coaching strategy was to either let Smith run like crazy (which he was born to do) or else force him to be a drop-back, pocket passer (with miserable results.) I called for the coach to be removed, but really he was doing the best he could with the personnel he had.

Chase Daniel ran the identical style offense to Mizzou's while he was in high school. When he came to Columbia, he didn't have to learn a new system. He naturally fit into Pinkel's plan. And guess what- apparently Pinkel can coach. It helps to have a Heisman qualtity QB, but Brad Smith was mentioned in that category, too. The key is that with Daniel, Pinkel can be free to be himself. And he is showing the football world just how good he is at his job. He has recruited two of the best tight ends in football. His receivers are fantastic. His defense forced Colorado to go "three and out" on seven straight possessions and shut down Texas Tech's top rated offense. And now the Tigers are 8-1 with their only loss on the road to a top-ten Oklahoma. Mizzou is poised to square-off against arch-rival Kansas at Arrowhead Stadium on Thanksgiving weekend. The Jayhawks may be 11-0 and the Tigers 10-1 when they play. The winner will win the Big 12 North and go on to play Oklahoma for the conference championship. If Mizzou wins out, we will be 12-1, Big 12 Champs, and will have beaten two top 5 teams and three other ranked opponents. Depending on what Ohio State, LSU, and Oregon do the remainder of the season, The Missouri Tigers have a chance at playing for the National Championship.

So I wish to extend my heartfelt apologies to Gary Pinkel for being overly critical of him in the past. He is showing that he is an excellent coach and he is making it fun to be a Mizzou fan again. He also took a moment to help a friend of mine named Jim the other day. Jim's son had recently been kicked-off his high school football team for having a bad attitude despite being one of the best athletes on the team. As Pinkel was walking out of Jim's store, Jim's son was was walking in. Jim asked if the Coach would talk to the kid. With his trademark look of intensity and a twinkle in his eye he asked my friend, "Do you want me to yell at him?" Jim said to do whatever he wanted. Pinkel proceeded to give him the traditional coach's "rah-rah-rah, get your head out of your ass and be a team player" speech. He talked about supporting your teammates, listening to your coaches, and giving it your all. It seemed to make an impact on the kid. Here was Coach Pinkel preparing to leave town for the Colorado game during one of the most dramatic seasons in MU history and yet he still took the time to help straighten out the troubled son of a complete stranger. That says a lot about the man's character. Win or lose, Coach Pinkel has earned my respect.

Now if only we could get Mike Alden to lighten-up on tailgaters...

The Perfect Storm

My friend and yours, Bill Herrin, called me the other day. We had a good chat. He discussed the seven old computers his wife wanted him to get rid of that are taking up space in their basement. He has them running a program that is doing some "gene sequencing" or something intended to cure Alzheimer's. That is a more noble cause than the peroid of time where he had upwards of twenty salvaged computers running a program that simulates the random keystrokes of monkeys sitting at computers typing Shakespeare plays. (One monkey typed the first 28 characters of Hamlet.)

We talked about my tailgatin' truck and party porch. I told Bill that I had him in mind when I built the deck. I said it was built to withstand Hurricane Herrin forces. Then Bill asked if it could weather himself, Grant Barnes, John Briscoe, AND...(wait for it)... Scott Straub all at once. Instantly I was both terrified and intruigued. How good are my construction skills? We're talking about a half- ton of humanity here. Throw in a little beer and voila- The Perfect Storm. But as terrifying as this scenario seems, it could be worse. The sage words of wisdom that Bill spoke that day still resonate in my head: "If we do get together, we can't let Zane Paschal find out."

Good call, Bill. Good call.

Seeking Inspiration

I need your help. Back in the days of my retirement, I had a lot of time on my hands to come up with new ideas for recreation and entertainment. I went fishing and hiking, played all kinds of sports with Alex, I blogged a lot and even dabbled in an ill-timed novel. I sold cars and painted a tailgating truck or three. I tailgated, roadtripped, tried to learn to play guitar, and even got a library card. But since I started working again, the untamed Travis has been forced to live in a scheduled, compartmentalized rut. Things aren't all bad, I have a lot of fun with my family and work is going well, but you know me. I gotta be me! I have to live life a little differently than most people. I cannot be normal. I refuse to be an Average Joe. My steadfast refusal to work a 40 hour week is my last protest against completely selling out to "the man" and joining the real world for good.

I challenge you to come up with some ideas that will help me keep the real world at bay a little longer. I need inspiration. No suggestion is too outrageous. Think of whatever it is you wish you could do but the restrictions of your reality are preventing you from trying. Then give me the chance to do it. Live vicariously through me. I will consider anything. I am on a tight budget, but I will try to find a way. Let me live your dreams. Of course I will blog all about my (our) adventures in exuisite detail so you will feel like you are a part of the action. Let's make some memories, shall we?

Tailgate Truck Trio

Before and Forever After

Before and Glorious After

Before and After

Birthday Boy

That's right, everyone. Today is a national holiday. At least it should be. I was born at least 21 years ago today. I am old enough to do whatever I want and still too young to care about the consequences. I'm thinking about getting a tattoo. Any suggestions?

Happy birthday to me!

New Links

Please note the addition of three new links on this blog.

1. My mother has joined the bloggosphere. Her site is a must read for anyone interested in the human experience (and for the answer to the question: Where did Travis come from?)

2. Jane Almirall is the wife of Bethany's cousin Brian. Her website displays many of her works of art. They are haunting in their beauty (just like me.) She is an incredible artist. Check it out.

3. Jodie Hurt is the wife of my longtime friend Doug. She is an art teacher and has a unique and beautiful style. The future artists in her classes are lucky to have her as an instructor. Her works are displayed on her blog.

There you go. Get yourselves some culture, dammit. You'll be glad you did.

PS: Stay tuned for pictures of the new "tailgatin' truck." (Talk about a work of art!) It should be finished this weekend.

Top Ten Naughton Headlines of the Last Week or so

10. My finger was bitten by a girl named Sasha (one of Alex's rats.)

9. Bethany and I went on a float trip with friends in Steeleville, MO and realized we are not as young as we once were.

8. Thinking he may have had another heart attack, (which it turned out that he did not), my dad went to the E.R.

7. I have decided to paint the Mean Green Machine black and gold in preparation for tailgating at MU games.

6. My little sister Karah was named "Queen Soya" and "Miss Congeniality" at this year's LaPlata, MO Soybean Festival.

5. Days later, a carload of Karah's friends were in a horrific car accident that left one friend dead and two others on life support.

4. Six year old Alex read aloud a 140 page book (entitled "Captain Underpants") from cover to cover this evening.

3. Sales at my dog food and supply store have increased 37% since this time last year forcing me to actually work (and earn my paycheck) to keep up with demand.

2. My beautiful bride celebrated her birthday by picking out a brand new fridge and stove as her birthday presents from me.

1. In a blatant and possibly successful bid to unseat me as the #1 son, Blake surprised our mom with a trip to New York to watch the semi-finals of the U.S. Open Tennis Tournament.

That's a look at the events of the past week in my world. What's going on in yours? If you have news that you would like to share, then please post a comment on this page. Let's get interactive, people!

A Cut Above

Labor day proved to be a labor of love this year. My mother called this morning to ask a favor. She wanted a hair cut. This was not such an unusual request considering that I regularly cut the hair of Alex and myself. (I am pretty handy with the clippers if I do say so myself.) However, this is the first time a woman has asked me to shave her head bald. Yes, the radiation that Mom has been subjected to has caused her hair to start falling out in clumps. Rather than fight it, she did the smart thing and said, "To Hell with it!" She says she never liked her hair anyway. My clippers don't give a perfectly smooth finish, so I encouraged Mom to use a razor to remove the stubble. Ever the optimist, she donned a "do-rag" and remarked that the stubble helped hold the scarf in place. "Kinda like Velcro," I commented. She laughed and agreed.

Since her energy level is not as high as she'd like, Mom hasn't been able to mow the yard. So I cut the grass while she swept up the hair on the bathroom floor. While out pushing the mower, I thought about how things balance out in life. Mom used to cut my hair when I was a kid. Now I cut hers. She used to take me to doctor appointments. Now I take her. She was there for me whenever I was scared. Now I'm there for her. I'm glad I can repay the favor. I'll says this, though- she was much better at giving a haircut.

After cutting Mom's hair and her yard, I came home and cut our dogs' claws and brushed their hair. First, I brushed and trimmed Elwood. He tolerated it alright and didn't give me too much grief even after cutting one claw too short and drawing blood. Then it was Princess's turn. Ten minutes and a half-gallon of slobber later, she was looking lady-like again. That left old man Jake. His hair was falling out in clumps as I used the de-shedding comb. I had noticed lately that he was looking pretty rough. He's almost 14 years old now, you know. Well, he got tired of being brushed so I switched to cutting his nails. He made a feeble attempt to escape and succeeded only in crapping on my leg. I sighed a "thanks a lot" sigh and finished up. When all was said and done there was a pile of fur and claws that covered approximately three square feet of the porch. I was covered in hair, drool, blood, and poo. And I was grateful. I was glad to have three neurotic dogs that need to be groomed. They need me. They love me. And I love them.

I was glad to have a mother who needed me, too. She loves me. And I love her. In life, there are times when we do unglamorous things for the ones we love. Be it cutting hair, cutting the grass, or cutting a dog's claws we do what needs to be done. Joy can be found in even these tasks when we realize how lucky we are to have people (and pets) in our lives who love us unconditionally and only occasionally need us to do something for them in return. We should all be more than happy to oblige. I am. Indeed, this Labor Day proved to be a cut above the rest.

Those Damned Goats!

My wife thinks its funny when our goats break out of their pen. Is it funny that these vile creatures live to escape from the confinement I have poured hours upon hours of labor into building and repairing? Is it funny that they like to run from me when I try to grab them to drag them back into the pen? Is it funny that while I hold on to one, the other walks just out of arm's reach and casually goes about grazing from the lawn as if nothing out of the ordinary were taking place? Is it funny that when I repair the fence it is usually around 100 degrees outside and horseflies are divebombing me while itchweed and poison ivy and thornbushes grate across my flesh? Is it funny that every time I go outside to let the dogs out I see a goat standing in the driveway giving me that "What?" look? Is it funny that two 30# creatures cause me more grief that any man should have to endure?

Yeah, I guess it is.

My Mom

My mother won't like it that I am writing about her. But since most of you know her and care about her and my family, I feel the need to share some news about her with you. Be advised: Donna Keller does not want any one's pity. But I think she would like to know that people care.

After several months of gradual weight loss, Mom suddenly dropped a lot of weight in just a few weeks. She became lethargic, lost her appetite, and couldn't keep down food or fluids. When Bethany, Alex, and I returned from vacation we invited Mom over for dinner on Sunday evening. When she arrived, she could barely get out of her car. I noticed her driver's side mirror hanging off the car. Mom had a disheveled look about her and she was so thin that I barely recognized her. I asked her if she felt okay and she said she was tired. She seemed to be in a trance. It was like she was a zombie. After unsuccessfully trying to eat dinner, we took her to the E.R. in Jeff City to get looked at. After drawing blood and getting a urine sample, the doctor said she was suffering from depression and that she needed to go to her doctor for a prescription. I thought it strange that they didn't give an obviously dehydrated person an I.V. or more tests to try to discover why she was so frail.

Bethany called a behavioral health clinic for a consultation and I took Mom to her appointment on Tuesday. The woman who met with us said she could see signs of depression, but also detected some physical problems as well. Mom was weak on her left side, could barely speak, and was slightly disoriented at times. The therapist said Mom was showing signs of having had a small stroke and advised us to go to the E.R. at the University Hospital. She faxed Mom's info to the E.R. and we headed across town.

When we arrived at the E.R., we were led straight back to a room. "Well," I said, "That's lucky. We didn't have to wait at all to be seen. Maybe that's a good sign." How wrong I was. The doctor had Mom undergo a CAT scan. She came back after a while and sat down beside Mom.

"I'm afraid I have bad news," the doctor began. "You have a large mass in your chest cavity and another in your brain." It was one of those moments when everything around you goes completely silent. Nothing else in the world exists or matters at that time. She explained that they would do an MRI to see the mass in her brain and then she would talk to us again. Then she said "I'm sorry" and left the room. I walked over to Mom and hugged her and cried on her shoulder. Then I realized that she wasn't crying or feeling sorry for herself, so I stopped. I decided that my job would be to keep her spirits up. So we spent the next few hours talking and laughing. In between tests and nurse visits, the reality tried to sneak up on me, but I held it together for Mom. She was handling it well. At one time she smiled in satisfied manner and exclaimed, "See, I told you I wasn't crazy."

After ten hours in the E.R., Mom was finally admitted and led to her room. She had been receiving I.V. fluids and a steroid that reduced the swelling on her brain. She was more coherent and was looking forward to getting some rest. I left her at 2:30 in the morning to go home to my wife and child and to get some rest of my own. Blake and Meredith came in from D.C. to be there for Mom. We all kept her company and listened to doctors as they came in to explain what was going on. It was nice to have the family together because we soon had the full-picture of what was happening.

Mom has stage-four lung cancer. A large tumor on her right lung has spread to her brain. She has two tumors in her brain. The large one is in her frontal lobe (which affects mood and personality- which explains why Mom was so emotionally flat and withdrawn lately). The small tumor is in the back of her brain and has not impaired her in any way. The steroids have shrunk the swelling enough that Mom's old personality is back and she is able to drive, eat, and function normally. She will begin radiation treatments next week and will do so for two and a half weeks. Then, she'll undergo chemotherapy for her lung. The doctor explained that with stage-four cancer, they aren't expecting to cure her. Their goal is to give her as much quality of life and time that they can. The doctor also said that he has been proven wrong before and that miracles happen. He said he hopes that Mom proves him wrong and that she will be cured. During a second opinion, another doctor explained time-lines and prognoses. He said the length of time she has will be determined by how well she responds to treatments. So we're hopeful that as quickly as she has already responded to the steroids, that her body is receptive to treatments and that the cancer will be cleared up. There is a chance that they can wipe out all the existing tumors and that she can be cancer-free. As long as there is a chance, there is hope.

Spiritually speaking, Mom is a perfect example of how we should all deal with a similar crisis. In her eyes, this is just a part of life. She doesn't feel sorry for herself. She isn't bitter. She has accepted what has happened and has decided to remain positive. She is going to go through a lot of discomfort when undergoing radiation and chemo, but she isn't whining about it. She will do what she has to do to get through this. She inspires me to be calm and accepting of the curve balls life throws at me. She has also helped me realize that life is precious. Buddha would be proud of the way she has dealt with all of this. He would commend her choice to live in the moment. Do not worry about the future or the past. Do not allow your spirit to suffer because your body fails you. Live each moment you have in this life to the very fullest. Make those around you feel loved and happy. Give up the idea of self and instead live for others. Strive to relieve their suffering and you will relieve your own in the process. My mom has inspired me to live my life. My advice to you: Don't be greedy. Don't live to attain material possessions. Live to make those around you happy. A person who can spend their time on earth living a life of doing good and making others feel better is the richest person alive. My mom donates blood every 56 days. She volunteers at the Senior Show-Me-State Games. She volunteers with the Police department. She donates items to Goodwill. She gives gifts to her family when she doesn't have enough money to pay her rent. She speaks out when people in power don't do enough to help others. She stands up to people who do wrong to those who are weak. She raised two boys who grew up with the ability to know right from wrong and to act accordingly (most of the time.) In short, my Mom has lived her life the way Buddha or Jesus would have us all do: she has lived her life for others- not for herself. She has made the world a better place in her own, special way. She is my hero.

I hope that those of you who know her, will have a chance to give my mom a big hug sometime soon. Maybe you can email her some words of encouragement. keller7734@mchsi.com Maybe you will live your life as she has done- for the sake of making the world a little better than it was when you arrived here. I know I will.

D'oh!

I've been Simpsonized! You can, too @ simpsonizeme.com It didn't even hurt.

Rocky Mountain "Hi"

We took a lot of vacation pictures. You are welcome to come over and view them while sitting on the porch enjoying a cold one. This picture is taken on a mountain top in Estes Park, CO.

Party Porch Pic #4

Yep, I built that.

Party Porch Pic #3

Party Porch Pic #2

Party Porch Pic #1

There and Back

Hello again, loyal minions. I have not forgotten you. Instead, I have been away on vacation in beautiful Colorado. Yes, we took lots of pictures and as soon as I find a minute of free time, I will post some.

I also owe you Bait Shop/Fishin' Shack/Party Porch pictures. (Bear in mind that a personal visit will be much more satisfying than the pictures.) To answer Seamhead's question: No, we do not have Wi-Fi or anything like it out where we live that would allow me to blog on the deck. I will see if I can compose a post off-line on Bethany's laptop and then come inside the house to upload it. That's a great idea, Rog.

Stay tuned, there's a lot of good stuff on the way...

Finished!

It is done. At long last. After much pain. After much sweat. After much (well, a little) bloodshed. I have finished building our new deck/party porch/bait shop/fishin' shack/bar/treehouse. Grant Barnes said it best, "I don't want this to sound the wrong way, but it turned out way better than I ever thought it would." I'll take that as a compliment.

I will post pictures sometime, however our camera isn't working right now. It has lost focus. The same cannot be said about me. I focused. Completing this project has consumed my every waking moment (as well as most of my dreams) for the past couple weeks. It was an obsession, and it was worth every minute of madness. Half of the first floor is covered and enclosed. It has a hand built bar, a foosball table, old fishing memorabilia, and family fishing pictures. The open-air half of the main level has seating for six at two tables (which will eventually be replaced with a new patio set.) The second floor is Alex's "treehouse." It is positioned in the canopy of trees that surround the deck, giving it a real treehouse feel. He loves it.

Don't take my word for it, though. Pick a night or a weekend to come visit so you can see for yourself. I sat out there the other evening, drinking a cold one, staring up at the stars and the big fake largemouth bass on the wall and thought to myself, "Holy crap! I can't believe I built this!" And then I laughed out loud in utter amazement that I, Travis Naughton, built something so totally kick-ass.

Can you guess where I'll be this evening?

Jesus was a carpenter

"Where has Travis been? Why hasn't he been blogging? Is working 34 hours a week too much for poor, lazy Travis?" Hold it right there! I have been very busy with a project that when completed will rival the pyramids and the Great Wall in scope and magnificence.

For years I have wanted to build a clubhouse for Alex, a bar for myself, and a covered deck suitable for entertaining. After careful planning I have combined all three. I am currently building a 16'x12' deck. Half will be covered and sided with a rustic bar and room for my new foosball table. The roof of this bar area will double as a clubhouse for Alex with a railing all the way around to prevent "flying" experiments. In effect, I am building a two-story party porch. There is even room for a patio furniture set on the "open-air" half of the deck as well. It will all be decorated in an " old bait shop" theme complete with family fishing pictures, old fishing tackle, and antique fishing signs. Phase two of the development will include a small fish pond located on the east side of the deck. The project is located in the middle "island" of our circle drive, nicely nestled in a bunch of trees which help camoflauge the rather large, yet rustic structure.

I have to thank Grant Barnes for his help in getting the corner posts and floor joists set. Also, Alex has been a big help- most of the time. Mostly, I'd like to thank my wife for greenlighting the budget for this project. I may not be a carpenter, but like any contractor, I am over budget and behind schedule. So far, the first level is almost done complete with railings and stairs. I hope to finish the rest this week.

I will post pictures as soon as I am done. Then, I invite everyone to come share a beer and some fish stories on the porch. (No nit-picking my handiwork, please. Unless you bring beer.)

One Hour, Fifty Minutes

My beloved wife, her equally beautiful twin sister Charla, and Bethany's best friend Jennifer all competed in their first ever triathlon this past weekend in Naperville, Illinois. They each swam one half mile, rode bikes for 14 miles, and then ran three miles. Jennifer finished in one hour and forty one minutes and the twins finished nine minutes later. They might have beaten Jennifer's time had they not stopped to take two bathroom breaks in during the transitions from one event to the next. Nevertheless, they all did great and I am very proud of them.

I will post some pictures when I get a chance. Stay tuned...

Yet another reason to make fun of the French...

Sex with the goats is not recommended.

Roll Out The Barrel

I thought you would want to know that official Blog Daddy beer steins are now in stock at my on line store. Fill 'er up!

250 and Counting!

Ladies and gentlemen, this is the 250th time I've posted on my blog. That's no small feat, I'll have you know. I started this little project back in April of 2005. Therefore, in the past 110 weeks or so, I have blogged an average of over two times per week. That's not too shabby considering professional columnists in newspapers usually only publish once a week- and they get paid for it!

While some of my posts have not quite been Pulitzer material, many others have offered entertaining and/or disturbing glimpses into the mind of this writer. And since we're talking about writing, you should know that I have not given up on the idea of writing a book and having it published. In fact, Cafepress.com (the site on which I have my t-shirts for sale) publishes books on demand for aspiring writers such as myself. You will be able to buy a copy (and an official Blog Daddy t-shirt) with the click of a button.

So until I compile my thoughts into book form, please continue to read and enjoy my blog. Be sure to tell your friends about it, too. And make sure they read through the archives section for previous bits of wisdom/madness that I have bestowed upon my legions of fans over the past two years. They'll be glad they did.

A Brief History of Me

For those of you who don't know me well, I thought I would give you a quick recap of the past 35 years. Take good notes- you may be tested on this later.

• September 25, 1971: I was born. Son of Donna (Keller) and Butch Naughton
• 1973: I do my first impression. When asked how old I was, I held up two fingers on each hand and said, "Peace, baby."
• May 25, 1975: My brother Blake was born.
• Late 1970's: I came up with a two-step plan to resolve the oil crisis. I suggested that Jimmy Carter freeze gas prices and order a halt to car-racing because they wasted fuel.
• 1976: Attended Kindergarten in Clarinda, Iowa. Believed that the "J" printed on the floor of my classroom (signifying Jefferson Elementary School) was printed backwards.
• 1977: Attended First Grade in Kirksville, Missouri. Learned that the backwards "J" was my mistake.
• 1978: Attended 2nd Grade in La Plata, Missouri. My Grandmother was my teacher. Yes, I was the teacher's pet.
• 1979: Attended 3rd Grade In Hannibal, MO at Oakwood Elementary. Mrs. Jackson was the meanest teacher I ever had. When a girl stabbed my arm with a pencil and broke the lead off in my flesh, the teacher told me to quit crying and go back to my seat.
• 1980: Attended 4th grade at Mark Twain Elementary in Hannibal, MO. 5th school in 5 years- learned how to make friends quickly.
• 1983: Junior High. I wore a referee shirt and whistle to school at least once a week. Oh, yeah. I wore parachute pants and had feathered hair, too.
• 1986-90: Hannibal Senior High School. Decided to become Mr. Popularity. Became President of Student Council, Editor of Yearbook, Drum Major of marching band. Played baseball. Won honors in jazz band for trombone and concert band for baritone horn. Was member of honor society.
• 1990: Had bright idea of rooming with Bill Herrin while attending University of Missouri. Bill, and Grant Barnes who lived down the hall, both fell victim to the highly contagious "party bug" and left school after three semesters. Another good friend, Justin Constable, knew when to stop wasting his money on tuition and decided to take a decade off from school. (Just teasing, Buddy.) I narrowly escaped dismissal by never having been on "academic probation" in two concurrent semesters. That's easier said than done.
• 1991: Co-founded a short-lived, ill-conceived fraternity. Started working at Eastgate Foods where I met some of my best, life-long friends.
• 1992: Met a girl named Bethany Lemon, whose twin sister Charla dated my good friend Joe Ahrens. Also, I turned 21 and fell in love with going to bars and such.
• 1993: Dumb enough to blow-off the Lemon chick because of the whole "being 21" thing.
• 1994: Dropped out of school after being evicted from my apartment, failing majority of my classes, and wearing out my welcome on my friends' couches.
• 1995: After a brief stint living at a hog farm in northern Iowa with my father, his wife, and my two very young half-siblings, I moved back to Columbia.
• Thanks to John Briscoe, got back in touch with that Lemon chick.
• August 4, 1996: Married Bethany. Honeymooned in New Orleans' French Quarter. Can you say humidity?
• 1996- 2000: Work, work, work: Meat cutter, groundskeeper, sales manager at car auction. Amassed mountain of debt.
• October 3, 2000: Our son Alex was born. I realized being a father and husband is more important than partying and drinking to excess. Quit drinking for over two years.
• December, 2002: Quit the high-stress sales manager job at car auction. Took part time job at bakery and boutique for dogs. Expected that to last a few months. Didn't know what I was in store for.
• September 2003: Owner of store had psychotic break. I helped have her involuntarily committed for an evaluation. This is the second time I had to do this for someone I knew. Not cool, man. Not cool.
• May, 2005: I retired. Declared "This is the Summer of Travis!" Stayed at home to raise Alex after multiple problems with several daycare centers. Created this blog. Posted some really weird and disturbing stuff.
• May, 2006: In anticipation of Alex attending kindergarten, I decided to go back to work. Accepted manager job at the dog store. Bethany was happy to have a third income for the household. Did I mention she was working two jobs?
• August 4, 2006: Celebrated 10th wedding anniversary by throwing Bethany a surprise party.
• 2007: Became debt-free. Student loans, car payments, credit cards became a thing of the past. Saved money for first time in my life. Converted the old cop-car to burn E85 ethanol.
• June, 2007: Celebrated the best month in my store's seven year history. Celebrated Alex's graduation from kindergarten. Volunteered to coach Alex's t-ball team. Re-connected with some old friends. Submitted final paperwork for adopting an infant girl from China. Supported Bethany while she trained for her first triathlon. Got the new (old) tailgatin' truck fixed- finally.

Now I'm feelin' pretty good about my life and you're pretty much up to date on it. Oh sure, I left out a lot of the gory details. But that should just motivate you to invite me over for a pint of dark beer while we reminisce about how we got to this point in our lives. I doubt we'll ever run out of things to talk about.

This Just In... "Myspace a place to meet friends."

I am a blogger. I am fairly good at it. I also have a myspace page. That, I'm not so great at. However, if you prefer the myspace world to the blogosphere, then knock yourself out by clicking on the link to my myspace page. I will try to make it worth your effort in the future.

The cool thing about myspace is that I have re-discovered a few old friends. Justin Constable and Marty Hayden are two recent examples. I have run into Marty a few times over the years, but have not seen Justin since the early 1990's. The three of us have known each other since 4th grade and were inseparable thru high school. College and adulthood have sent us on separate paths, but thanks to myspace, were are reunited (at least in cyberspace.) I look forward to seeing those guys and many more of my old friends again someday soon.

MySpace- not just for teenagers and pedophiles anymore!

Graduation Day

Our little boy is growing up. Last Thursday, Alex had his end of year awards assembly and kindergarten graduation party. He won three awards for reading, art, and attendance. Then we went back to his classroom for cookies and ice cream. Next month, Alex will attend summer school as a FIRST GRADER!!!!!

Time flies...

Blog Daddy Swag

For your pleasure, I have created an on-line superstore for all things Blog Daddy. The site is at CafePress.com and on it I have created some very cool apparel for my legions of fans to wear. You can access the site here or by following the link on the right of this page called Blog Daddy Swag.

Show the world how cool you are. Buy one of my t-shirts. You'll be glad you did.

Judgment Day

The Reverend Jerry Falwell died today. I'm sure his supporters believe that he is in Heaven right now. As you know, I'm a believer in Karma. Falwell collected bad Karma like a kid collects Pokemon cards. I don't think Heaven is the destiny of a man who sought to condemn anyone with beliefs other than his own. For decades Falwell dedicated himself to spreading messages of hate in the name of God. Here is a perfect example:

"I really believe that the pagans, and the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and the lesbians who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle, the ACLU, People for the American Way -- all of them who have tried to secularize America -- I point the finger in their face and say, 'You helped this happen.'" -- Rev Jerry Falwell, blaming civil libertarians, feminists, homosexuals, and abortion rights supporters for the terrorist attacks of Tuesday, September 11, 2001, quoted from John F Harris, "God Gave US 'What We Deserve,' Falwell Says," The Washington Post (September 14, 2001)

Heaven? Hardly. I believe the good reverend will be reincarnated as the pregnant, unwed daughter of a card carrying member of Falwell's own "Moral Majority" who decides to stop living a lie and come out of the closet only to be treated with the same intolerance Falwell advocated treating such people with. That is what I call Justice.

Bird Nerd

Counting today's exciting new discovery, I have identified 52 species of birds on or near our property in the eight years we have lived in our home. The bird of the day: a female Rose-breasted Grosbeak. I am particularly proud of this discovery because the female of the species looks nothing like the male, which makes identification especially challenging.

We have seen and heard a wide variety of avian visitors over the years. On February 13, 2005 a bald eagle sat perched in a tree a mere 50 yards from our house. Two days later, a flock of snow geese flew overhead on their way to the Arctic Circle, their summer range. Wild turkeys, barred owls, goatsuckers such as the Whip-Poor-Wills and Chuck-Will's-Widows, and dozens of songbirds have entertained us with their calls. Ruby-throated Hummingbirds have dazzled us with their agile flight. Cardinals and Summer Tanangers sport their bright red plumage while Blue jays, Blue Birds, and Indigo Buntings have a case of the Blues.

Do high gas prices and a half-hour commute to town make us feel isolated from the trappings of society? Yes, and we're loving every minute of it. In addition to the birds, we've also seen coyotes, raccoons, possums, deer, rabbits, squirrels, a flying squirrel, frogs, toads, turtles, snakes, lizards, spiders, and even a scorpion. We've smelled a few skunks, but thankfully haven't been close enough to see them! Given a choice between living near shopping and dining or living in the middle of all this nature, I'll choose life on Bud Wyman Lane everytime.

Haiku, Beer, and Ethanol

My dear friend Paul has revived his legendary Haiku writing spectacular. He hopes to write 365 haikus in as many days. Well, in just three days I have already penned 16 examples of this Eastern art form. I invite all of you to contribute to Paul's collection of poems. Remember from 5th grade:

Line One: 5 syllables
Line two: Seven Syllables
Line Three: 5 Syllables

Now, I don't speak a lick of Japanese, but I would bet that their language doesn't translate into the same amount of syllables when translated to English. So I don't know if they would accept our efforts as valid or not. Nevertheless, click on Paulie's blog to contribute to the compilation of poetry that the Violent Farmer is collecting.

Paul's Blog is called "I Wrote This When I Was Drunk." I challange you to tipe that exac phraze and punctuation wile inhebriated. No useing spellczech ether. Thats cheathing.

Yesterday, April 30, 2007 I filled my 1996 Ford Crown Victoria Police Interceptor that was recently modified to be a flex fuel vehicle with 18 gallons of E85 ethanol fuel. I also adorned the car with nine decals that clearly convey to the world that the car is a corn fed factory muscle car. Oh, and I paid 55 cents per gallon less than you did for your last tank of gas. Sure it will take two years of cheaper fill ups to recoup the money I spent on the conversion kit, but during that time 85% of the money I spend on fuel will go to Missouri farmers instead of the oil cartel. Put that in your exhaust pipe and smoke it.

The Return of The Violent Farmer

After an inexplicable four month absence, Paulie is back. The Original Purveyor of Drunken Love Songs and Drunk Haiku has returned. Check out his latest: http://iwrotethiswheniwasdrunk.blogspot.com/2007/04/drunken-haiku-renew.html

Enough!

I can't take it anymore. Call it a desire to remain informed. Call it a need to empathize with my fellow human beings. Call it morbid curiosity. When a headline grabs my attention on the Internet , in the newspaper, or on the nightly news, more often than not it is a depressing story that does nothing but worsen my opinion of humanity. Well, I've had it.

We all do it. When a headline describes an outrageous act of horror or violence we are compelled to learn about the sordid details. I don't know if it is because we feel guilty for having a relatively comfortable life while others in the world suffer immeasurably or maybe some of us "get off" on the lurid and horrific accounts of violence reported in the media. All I know is that the majority of the headlines I have noticed lately have made me feel absolutely miserable. I want to cry almost every day. I ask myself, "What good comes from reading about these horrors occurring in the world over which I have no control ?"

Today, in addition to reading about the Virginia Tech Massacre, I read about Chinese companies intentionally adding lethal amounts of toxic melamine to pet food ingredients to artificially boost the protein content readings when samples are analyzed by the FDA. Thousands of pets have suffered painful illnesses and deaths as a result. I read about a babysitter in East St. Louis who killed a pregnant woman and drown her three young children after unsuccessfully trying to cut the victim's fetus from her womb. I read about a NASA engineer who killed a co-worker and himself. I read about someone setting off a bomb near Columbine High School on the 8th anniversary of the massacre that occured there. I read about car bombs killing over 130 innocent civilians in Baghdad. I read about the 200,000 civilians who have been murdered in Darfur. And then I read about the straw that broke the camel's back.

A Jihadist video posted on the internet today showed a 12 year old boy slicing the throat of a man who was accused by the Taliban of being a spy for America. The account described the child using a knife to spill the man's blood and then hack at his neck until his head was separated from his body. The boy then held the severed head in the air, proudly displaying it for the camera and all the world to see.

Enough. I can't take it anymore. I cannot prevent these tragic events from occurring. Oh, I suppose I could volunteer to fight in Afganistan or Iraq. I could be a security guard at NASA or Virginia Tech. I could be a cop in East St. Louis or a "peacekeeper" in Darfur. But I doubt my presence would have prevented these atrocities from occuring. Instead, I feel my greatest contribution to society will be in teaching my offspring to be altruistic, compassionate human beings. I will teach Alex and his future sister to care about their fellow man. I will teach them to love and to make the world a better place by creating positive change. I will teach them that laughter and generosity are more powerful than car-bombs and guns.

As of today, I am adding a supplemental resolution to my list of New Year's Resolutions. I resolve to avoid exposure to negative media. I will endeavor to avoid "The News." There is no doubt that I will learn about the things that are of vital importance in the world from friends and family. Therefore, I will avoid puposely seeking out the overwhelmingly negative stories reported by the media. Will I be burying my head in the sand? I don't think so. I can't continue to make myself sick over things I cannot control. If I continue to allow myself to become overwhelmed by tragedies occurring throughout the world, I will not be doing all I can to ensure that my family remains happy and healthy. I will continue to empathize for the victims of these injustices, but I will focus more of my energy on making those around me happy. I will teach my children to love. I will increase my charitible efforts. Buddhism calls for ending human suffering. Through teaching my children how to act morally, by giving to charity, by making people laugh, and by avoiding further exposure to the endless accounts of evil portrayed in the news I believe I can relieve the suffering of myself and everyone else whom I am able to influence with my positive attitude. Wish me luck.

Remember- No news is good news. Pass it on.

I Need...Something

I'm not unlike any other 35 year old family man. I help take care of my son, our pets, the house, etc. I work. I try to spend some quality time with my wife and child. I guess I'm just an Average Joe.

AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anybody who knows me knows that Travis Naughton is anything but your Average Joe. I'm the guy who wanted to list some extra-curriculars on my college applications, so in my senior year of high school I became editor of the school yearbook, president of the student body, and drum major of the marching band. Oh, and I also played baseball (until a falling out with the coach), was a member of the Honor Society, played trombone in the highest ranked jazz band in the state, and taught myself how to play the baritone horn well enought to earn a "1" rating at state competition. How do you top all that? Join the Marine Corps, of course. And I did. (We won't get into that story right now.)

I'm the guy who organized a college road trip to the New Madrid fault in S.E. Missouri when all the experts predicted the "Big Earthquake" back in '91. We wanted to be there when armeggedon arrived. (We were on Good Morning America and K-SHE 95 radio as well as several newspapers.) I drove all night to get there at the exact time they predicted the quake would begin. On the way there, we pulled off the road and got out of the car to dance when R.E.M.'s "Its the End of the World as We Know It" came on the radio.

I'm the guy who drove to Las Vegas with Bill Herrin the next summer in a 1984 Plymouth Horizon. Before we even left Columbia the linkage for the transmission fell apart and we literally stuck it back together with rubber bands and duct tape and decided to take the trip anyway. Oh yeah, and when we got in the car and started driving, we still weren't sure if we wanted to go to Canada or Mexico. We discovered a couple of Coors Light Beers in our cooler after visiting a friend in Arkansas. Appalled, we vowed to take them back to their source in Golden, Colorado. So we dropped two full cans off at the Visitors' bus stop at the brewery parking lot with a note attached that said, "To Whom it may concern: We were dismayed to have discovered these two beers in our cooler full of Anheuser-Busch products. A "friend" placed them in there as a joke. Well, we were not amused and we decided to return them to their place of origin. Please refrain from allowing your products to contaminate our cooler again in the future. Sincerely, Bill and Travis." I paraphrase. (To read about the entire trip, check out the link on this page "Bill and Trav's Excellent Adventure.")

So now, this Average Joe has taken the place of the former Me. I know that everyone laments the passing of their youth. I know I'm not special. But I am in a bit of a rut and I need to break out of it, even if only temporarily. So please feel free to make suggestions. If any of your ideas are crazy enough, I just may try one or two. You never know- I could end up on your doorstep at three in the morning in an '84 Plymouth with a full tank of gas and a roll of duct tape.

Something to Believe In

By now you've all heard me rant and rave about switching my car to operate on ethanol. Well by golly I've done it. The FlexTek unit I had installed by Alan Braun in Jeff City is a two-stage system. Step one is to add a fuel system treatment that literally plates the metal surfaces of the engine that will come into contact with the ethanol. This is done to prevent the mildly acidic E85 from corroding metal parts in the fuel system. (New Flex Fuel vehicles are made with parts that are already plated.) This additive is guaranteed to protect an engine for 100,000 miles. I'll be shocked if my car is still running when it reaches that point (it will have over 269,000 miles then)- regardless of whether the E85 has corroded anything. The next step is the fuel injector unit which adjusts the air-fuel mix to compensate for the slightly less energy dense ethanol. I have to drive the car with the additives for 2000 miles to allow the plating process to be complete. Then, I can fill 'er up with E85 and "Flip the switch". And the nice thing is that if I am anywhere that E85 is not available, the car will burn regular gas again by flipping the switch back.

But that's not all. As of today, I am an official, card-carrying member of the National Ethanol Vehicle Coalition. This group is an advocacy organization that provides filling stations, refineries, car owners, and the general public with resources and support for the country's inevitable shift to biofuels. Have you noticed the price of gas lately? Did you notice that E85 is now 55 cents per gallon cheaper that regular gas? But that's not a fair comparison. E85 is 105 octane. Super Premium gas is only 93 octane and it costs 75 cents a gallon more than E85. On my 18 gallon fill-ups, I'll be saving over $13!!!!!!!!!!!! E85 fuel that is 10% less efficient but costs 20% less than regular gas seems like a pretty good deal to me. And E85 pollutes less, too.

Don't forget that Missouri farmers make and sell E85. Iran, Russia, Saudi Arabia, and Venezuela are the world's top oil producers. Is E85 hard to find at gas stations? Yes and no. Get on the NEVC website that I have a link to and locate every E85 station in the country. 40 of the 50 states now sell it at at least one location. Are there enough pumps in this country? Not by a long shot. But this economy is driven by consumer demand. I just wrote a letter to the general manager of MFA Oil's Breaktime Convenience Stores requesting that an E85 pump be installed at their Ashland location. I explained to them that Bethany and I each have a Flex Fuel Vehicle (FFV) and that we each fill up about once a week. That works out to over 1500 gallons of E85 that they could sell to just the two of us in one year at that location. I also promised to tell everyone who will listen to switch to E85 and to buy it at Breaktime. If everone buys a FFV the next time they are in the market for a new car, the demand will definitely go up. Even if the price of ethanol rises, it will remain competitive with gas and the money will stay in the local economy- not in the Middle East.

I know I have blogged about all this before, but after 35 years of searching, I have found a cause that I strongly believe in. I may support several other causes, but none get my juices flowing quite like this one. As a member of the NEVC, I plan on being a very vocal proponent of this emerging industry. I may eventually seek a more active role in the organization, but for now I will be content with simply rallying the troops. As a member, I can attend meetings and conferences, voice my concerns, and receive press releases and newsletters. I have also ordered a bunch of bumper stickers and promotional items (at a members-only discount) that will soon adorn our two FFV's singing the praises of E85. I plan to contact FlexTek to see if they would be interested in a marketing campaign in our area encouraging people like us who can't afford a new FFV to convert their used vehicles like I did. Brazil is by all accounts one of the poorest countries on earth, yet they have been installing these conversions in their old cars for over a decade. Every new vehicle sold there is a FFV. (They mandated E100 fuel be sold at every gas station in the country since 1985!) A conversion kit here costs $800 installed, or $650 from the manufacturer. Think about it. Seriously think about it. Oil won't get any cheaper. As demand for gas increases and reserves start to dry up, prices will soar beyond belief. Wars will break out as countries scramble to secure what little oil reserves are left. Economies will crumble. Infrastrucures will disintegrate. We are an oil economy. What will we do when Saudi Arabia, Iran, and Venezuela decide to hoard their dwinling supplies? What will we do when Chinese demand for oil forces OPEC to sell to the highest bidder? Are we prepared to send our sons and daughters off to die in a foreign country so that we can continue to drive our 12-miles-per-gallon SUVs cheaply? How many lives will be lost securing oil for our driving pleasure?

Ethanol is independence. So is electric and hydrogen technology. But those technologies are years away from being viable means to power the majority of automobiles. Ethanol works right now. Ethanol is produced from corn, fast-growing switchgrass, sugar cane, and biomass- all abundantly available. Ethanol is grain alcohol. Imagine if this country had as many ethanol distilleries as it did whiskey, vodka, and rum distilleries. Imagine if we had the infrastucture to transport the fuel throughout the country (pipelines can be corroded by E85). Oh yeah, that's right- we already do. Ethanol has to be shipped in trucks. Hmmmm...so does alcohol for drinking. Yet there's no shortage of that at any gas station in the country. We can be an ethanol and bio-diesel economy within one or two years. Henry Ford and Mr. Diesel (can't think of his first name) designed their engines to run on bio fuels. Ford's first cars all operated on ethanol. It was only after the big oil tycoons forced the country to use gas that Ford reluctantly allowed his cars to be run on gas. Diesel engines were first operated on bio diesel. Again, only after big oil changed the face of our economy did Diesel allow his invention to run on petroleum based fuel. Its amazing how time (and corporations) erase our memory in this country.

For you, its something to think about. For me, its something to believe in.

Peter Cottontail and the Rendering Plant

Yesterday, the Easter Bunny made an appearance at my store. 15 dogs, a cat, and two kids took turns sitting on the bunny's lap while getting their pictures taken. It went surprisingly well with no incidents of over-zealous terriers trying to kill the rabbit. This was a relief to me because I was the one in the bunny suit. For three hours, I was in a latex and polyester costume that became soaked with sweat within the first 10 minutes. The eyes of the mask were so far apart that I could only see out of one eye at a time. When I finally took it off, I could see stereoscopically for the first time in three hours. Seeing the world in 3-D again was literally dizzying. I could barely walk. Maybe the latex fumes contributed a little. But overall the experience was actually pretty fun.

In a vaguely related note: NONE of the foods sold at our store Treats Unleashed were affected by the pet food recall. We have never carried any of the brands that were tainted. Those foods are all filled with by-products and cheap fillers that aren't good for your pet even when they don't have rat poison and chemical residue in them. If you are concerned about what you are feeding your pet, call, email, or drop by the store. We'll make sure your four-legged friend is well cared for. In the meantime, take a look at the ingredients on their food label. The top five or six ingredients are the most important. If you see corn, wheat, animal digest, animal by-product, gluten, or meat and bone meal then you have a food that is among the lowest in overall quality. Corn and wheat are virtually indigestible to pets especially the "partial" grains that are used in pet food that have already been processed for the human food chain (leaving pets with the waste by-product). "Animal" digest and "meat" meal don't specify what specific animal protein is used in the food because the government does not require pet food makers to reveal which animals have been processed and put into your pet's food. Rendering plants boil various animal remains gathered from slaughterhouses, butcher shops, and in some cases the side of the road that are labeled "not fit for human consumption" and mix them into cheap pet foods. "4-D" animals ( a term describing Dead, Dying, Diseased, or Disabled livestock not allowed into the human food chain) are routinely used in commercial pet foods. If the label doesn't specify what type of meat is in the food, ask yourself if you would go to a restaurant and order "Mystery Meat" off the menu knowing that it could literally be a combination of anything left over on the kill floor of a slaughterhouse. Oh yeah, one more thing: Did you ever wonder what happens to the 1.5 million carcasses of the dogs and cats that are euthanized in animal shelters every year? The majority are sent to rendering plants and rendered into "meat and bone meal" to be used in pet food. Studies show that the poison used to kill them is still in their systems when they are processed and eventually consumed.

Sorry to gross you out. I just think everyone should know what goes into their pet's food. Am I biased toward the products I sell at my store? You bet. None of the foods at our store have any of those questionable ingrediets. I sleep well at night knowing my dogs eat the best food available. I never worry about them eating ground up dogs and cats that were themselves poisoned to death. The San Francisco Chronicle did an expose' on the realities of commercial pet food companies back in 1990. They substantiate all of the claims I am making. http://www.commondreams.org/headlines02/0106-02.htm The next time you buy Ol' Roy or Dog Chow, think about the message on a sign at a rendering plant that the Chronical secretly videotaped. It read: "All animals being processed must be dead first." If they need a sign to tell them that, then you probably need to steer clear of their products.

All right, I'm getting off my soapbox now. Bon appetite!

"It's a major award!"

Ralphie's dad exclaimed this when he received the legendary Leg Lamp in "A Christmas Story." The old man was bursting with pride at his major award. Well, that's how I felt the other day when Alex's teacher told me that Alex would be receiving an award at the school's monthly assembly. She told me that Bethany and I should come see he win his award and that it was a surprise. You can imagine the excitement I felt. Would it be a 50" tall plastic leg lamp complete with fishnet stockings that Alex would receive? I doubted it, but still I was giddy with anticipation. When each day that you pick your child up from school you expect the teacher to tell you about the latest way that he has found to get himself into trouble , it comes as a welcome surprise to learn that he has been noticed doing something right.

So, yesterday at breakfast I asked Alex what he would be doing at school that day and he said they were having an assembly. He didn't know about his award, but he said parents usually come to these things and that he wished we could, too. We told him we would try, but no promises. Bethany took him to the bus stop and he went on to school thinking that we wouldn't show up. But when he walked into the gym/cafeteria/auditorium his face lit up as he saw Mommy & Daddy sitting in the audience.

After some excruciatingly boring readings by some second graders, Mr. Salmons, the principal introduced all of the special award winners for the month. Two or three kids from each class received recognition for something, including our son. "...For demonstrating excellence in both reading and writing, Alex Naughton." (Hold your applause till everone's name has been read.)

Reading and writing! Who knew how to write all his letters before he was even four years old? Who started reading Dr. Seuss books at that tender age? Who taught him how to write while doing that "stay at home dad" thing? Who has the best mommy in the world because she reads to him every night before bed? A major award indeed. Only he didn't receive a magnificent (if not profane) lamp. He won a pencil. A really cool pencil that says "Superstar" on it.

Oh yeah, when his name and achievement were announced, Alex wasn't paying attention. His teacher had to tap him on the shoulder and tell him to go up front. It wasn't until Bethany picked him up at the end of the day that he finally learned what he had been rewarded for.