THE SECOND STAR TO THE RIGHT...

Yes, it was a simpler time.  And I was so much younger.  Way younger.  Lord, so much younger...

It was Northern Wisconsin.  Summer.  Up at the cottage.  Why the hell we called a 3 bedroom, 2 and a half bath ranch style house with a double car garage and lake frontage a "cottage" still amazes me to this day.  But there I was, splayed out on my back on the dock staring up at the night sky.  Happy as hell.  I not only watched the moon change shape, I watched it as it floated across the sky.  I heard fish jump out of the water.  I watched meteorite showers.  I saw the Aurora Borealis dance before my eyes as waves gently splashed beneath me and the boat rocked up against the dock as I dangled my feet in the water.

Shit, I miss that little guy.  And he misses those nights.  That moon was amazing.  And the air was cool, warm, moist, amazing, wondrously weird and full of bugs.  And fireflies.  Lots and lots of fireflies.  Or as I like to call them lightenin' bugs...  I remember catching mayonnaise jars full of those things and then letting them loose in grandma's house for no other reason than that I thought they were cool.  Yeah, I was not an easy child...

But to lay on that dock and stare at the night sky.  Eyes open.  Mouth agape.  Just gazing up at the beauty of it.  Covered in bugs.  On a good night, I go back there in my dreams and hear water splashing underneath me.  The green light on the dock on the other side of the lake.  The smell of fresh water.  Lots of it.  And the feel of somewhat slimy wood on my back.

Yeah, that was heaven. And I still always try to find the second star to the right...

WHEN THE FUCK DID WE TURN INTO HYENA'S???

OK, this whole Black Friday thing pisses me off so badly that it hurts.  How fucking greedy has our society become?  And how fucking stupid are we to just keep sucking up to it???  When the hell did the last Thursday of November turn into a useless, mindless shopping frenzy???

Black Friday (which by the sounds like a public execution and stoning event) is totally unacceptable to me.  Fuck the "sales".  Fuck the "discounts".  Fuck the "Door Buster" shit.  As a retailer, if you haven't made your bottom line by the end of November then you just don't really need to be in business anymore.  You're pretty much boned by then.

Black Friday has now become Black Thursday.  Who in there right mind makes employees work on Thanksgiving???  Just so idiots can start shopping at midnight???  I don't care if those employees "volunteer" to work those shifts they just couldn't pay me enough to put up with that shit.

Black Thursday/ Friday is a freaking nightmare.  People show up armed.  Heavily.  Shootings happen on a regular basis.  Yeah, blood shed in parking lots over parking spaces.  Fuck the $59 television, you left your house with a loaded hand gun???  To go Christmas shopping???  What am I missing here???  If you can get gunned down while you're still in the parking lot then you are pretty much boned.

When did we start sucking up to this shit this badly???  And why are we still doing it???  My great-grandmother used to knit me socks.  Or a blanket of amazing colors and patterns.  I still have them.  And I treasure them all.  All of them handmade.  With love.  And way too many hours sitting in the rocking chair. under a florescent light bulb hot enough to tan by.

Fuck, I want a simpler, more civilized time back...

I AM SO FUCKING ANGRY RIGHT NOW...

How the bloody fucking hell could you have done this???  Good lord.  NO!!!  And you had the balls to do it sort of  "live" on television.  You bastards!!!  You fucking bastards!!!  You motherfucking bastards!!!  How dare you do this!!!

His name was Brian.  He was a white Labrador Retriever.  He was an essential part of the Griffin family on the animated series "Family Guy".  He loved a good dry martini.  And cigars.  Hell, he chain smoked them like crazy.  One of his litter mates was gay.  REALLY gay.  Brian had insight.  Hell, he was about the only one in that family with sanity.  He could quote Shakespeare.  And Dante.  He could drive a car.  Hell, he had credit cards.  At one point he was engaged to a woman with the biggest tits you can possibly imagine.  Yes, such was Brian.

This week, they killed him off.  Run over by a car.  Mangled beneath the wheels.  Fuck...

Not only did we watch him get run over we watched him flat-line at the vet's office as he said good bye to his family.

OMG, what were you thinking???  What you did to this character was so fucking horrid it just leaves me without words to curse you enough.  Have none of you ever stood over an exam table and watched a loyal and loving pet die???  You bastards!!!

Yes, Brian was just an animated cartoon dog but he was an inspiration to me.  His insight was wonderful and his sense of humor just wickedly truthful.  He could look you right in the eyes and just cut you off at the knees.  He made me laugh.  He made me blush.  He made me smile.

Who in there right mind kills off a cartoon character???

Cartoon character be damned, you just killed off one of my single most favorite things on the planet.  You killed a dog.  You bastards!!!  Fuck you.

YOUTH... WHAT A WASTE OF TIME!!!

Trust me on this one, I know what I'm talking about.  Did I have a good time when I was young?  Hell, yes!!!  Did I party my ass off?  Hell, yes!!!  Did I enjoy it?  Hell, yes!!!  Did I do it right?  Hell, no!!!  I took my youth and pissed it away like there was no tomorrow.  Which, apparently, is what you're actually supposed to do with it.  And lord knows, I did it with wild abandon.  Hell, we don't think that we're ever going to get old.  Guess what?  We do.  But that is when the fun really gets good.

Before I hit my 30's I was an idiot.  A big one.  But I sure did have a good time being an idiot.  I had a pension for stealing (borrowing?) cars and homemade explosives.  It's amazing what you can cook up with some sugar, salt peter and a small metal container.  Hey, I was an only child with way too much time on my hands.  On one fateful night those two things just happened to come together.  Yes, a 1966 Chevrolet Biscaine, a garage, most of the adjoining side porch and pretty much every window for about a block and a half.  None of them ours...  Oh lord.  Don't ask...  The fire ball was just mind boggling!!!  Yes, I was a danger at a really young age...

Yes, in my youth I managed to do some silly ass shit.  The fact that I did not become a serial killer, a cannibal or the Uni-Bomber amazes me.  In retrospect, I wasted all of those years (and that wonderful limberness) doing dumb shit that made no sense.  Today, I am old.  I make noises when I move.  Hell, I make noises even when I don't move.  The snap, crackle and pop of "age" just sucks ass!!!  But since I finally grew up (about 35) I've done me some stuff.  I have tap-danced on the Great Wall of China, (and yes, I do know how to tap dance, and I do it damned well!!!),  I have pissed in the Indian Ocean, seen concerts at the Sydney Opera House, sailed through the Panama Canal, regained consciousness totally naked in the tropics on more than one occasion, ridden camels at the pyramids and crossed the International Dateline and the Equator more times than I can remember.  If memory serves me right, I am a frequent flier on 3 different airlines. Some of which will still let me get on board if I'm lucky.

I am now 60.  I have learned to be tolerant and well behaved.  Well... not really.  Oh, hell, not by any stretch of the imagination!!!  I am ornery.  I am way too outspoken for my own safety.  I now have the right to cuss like a longshoreman, in elevators, at babies.  I love that.  I get to flip you the bird.  I get to tell you to go fuck yourself if you get in my way while I'm grocery shopping.  I get to pee without having to be at the toilet.  THANK YOU "DEPENDS"!!!  I get to talk to myself.  In public.  In the third person.  I get to roll down the windows, open the sunroof, crank the stereo up and sit at a stoplight singing along to Meatloaf just to piss you off.  I love that!!!

Am I a danger to myself?  More than likely.  Hell, just look at my track record.  Or my wrap-sheet.  Access the Freedom of Information Act, the FBI has some interesting stuff on me.  I'm particularly fond of the things about unlawful assembly and attempting to incite a riot.  (BTW, I was 15.)  But through it all I somehow managed to turn out normal.  Stop laughing!  If you are my friend then I am at your back 110%.  I will shove you to the ground for your own safety.  Push come to shove I would probably willingly take the bullet myself.  And I honestly don't have a toothpicks worth of tinker toys of sense of where that comes from but I'm damned glad that it's a part of me.  Yeah, strangely enough, you are indeed safe with me.  Odd concept, huh???

The first half of my life is a somewhat remember able blur with little rainbows around everything.  The people from that time are either dead or have simply wandered away.  I miss them all with all of my heart.  But the last half of my life has been bloody amazing.  When you can invite friends that you have known for 3 decades over to dinner then you are indeed truly blessed.  Nothing is more delicious than a house full of fellow crazies that make you smile.  My head is held high, my shoulders are squared upright and I am on my 4th passport.  I would not trade the snap, crackle and pop of age for anything in the world.  Life's damned good!

Sea Squirt just looks at me and shakes his head in bemusement.  I know the look on that face.  It's like a dog when they see you having sex.  Very confused and sort of scared.  Pretty unsettling.  It's somewhat judgemental and a bit confused.  I know in my heart he's going "What the bloody hell was I thinking???". Especially when he finds me lip synching to Cher in the kitchen with my trousers down around my ankles....  OMG, that poor man, he has me, of all things.  Not even in my worst  nightmares can I imagine that...  Oh, crap...  Oh, that poor, sweet dear man.  I just can't apologise enough.

Smile on my face and a giggle in my heart...

TODAY, MY HEART SINGS!!!

Yes, the Culver's in Platteville is toast.  A smoldering wreckage.  An icon is gone but apparently never to be forgotten.  And it WILL be rebuilt.

The owner of this franchise was wonderfully insured.  Not just for his own pocket book but for his employees as well.  For the next 60 days his employees will continue to receive their wages, in full.  Happy Holiday!  Other Culver's owners in the area have opened their arms and offered his employees a job to fill the void.  Yes, such is Culver's.

Apparently, the fire was just one of those shitty things that happens, something electrical in the middle of the night.  He has promised to rebuild, bigger and better.  Yeah, there just isn't anything better than a bigger and better Culver's.  If you have never been to a Culver's you just don't know how incredibly wonderful that is.

Those of us formally of Platteville are already planning on being there for opening day.  With a smile on our faces, a song in our hearts and a tap dance across the parking lot.  Yeah, Culver's is THAT good.  But more than anything, this particular venue holds too many memories for all of us.  Too many Buttterburgers, too many sundaes, too much frozen custard and WAY too many Lemon-Ices.  And the memory of a crazy Basset Hound who loved onion rings as much as we did. (Is that actually possible???)

To all of you caramel-cashew nut loving whores in Platteville, I say, hang on, the good times will be coming back.  And a bunch of crazies will be there to join you!!!

OH, CRAP!!!

Twenty years and hand full of months ago I moved to 'sconsin.  Platteville to be precise.  Oh, just stop laughing. 195 Virgin Avenue to be exact.  Again, just stop laughing.  My backyard connected to an alley that led down to the highway, one of the main drags in town.  If you turned right at the highway you hit one of the two stoplights that the town had.  If you crossed the highway you pulled into the Culver's parking lot.

Aah, Culver's.  Back then they were a 'sconsin-based fast food chain.  Today they are national.  I had never heard of them until I moved here.  I was soon to be amazed.  This place blew me away.  My new next door neighbors turned me on to it.  I became addicted within seconds of walking in the door.  We're talking MAJOR burger joint here!  And frozen custard desserts of an amazing assortment that changed on a daily basis.  The first time I tried the caramel cashew nut sundae I was hooked.  Yeah, I knew this was my kind of place.  Their butter-burgers are to die for.  As are their onion rings.

Over the last 20 years they have grown to national status and range.  And with good reason.  They really are that good.  They actually publish a calendar that lets you know what sundae they will be featuring on a daily basis.  I love that.  Yes, I am a frozen custard whore.  Hey, it's 'sconsin.  And I love that too.

I fondly remember playing croquet in the back yard and knocking balls down the alley just so we could get closer to Culver's.  I remember chasing one of the dumbest Basset Hounds I have ever owned down the same alley as he "galloped" towards the highway leading us to Culver's.  Lord, that dog sure did love a butter burger.  And frozen custard.  Yeah, my kind of dog...

Over the last 20 years I have frequented Culver's.  I have shared, been subjected to and been slammed with the best and worst of news there.  I found out that one of my best friends was pregnant.  I watched the O.J. Simpson low speed chase.  And I have even watched the breaking news coverage of a tsunami.  Yes indeed, I hold this place dear to my heart.  Ain't nothing better than some tv screens and a butter burger...

Last night the Culver's in Platteville caught fire and pretty much burnt to the ground.  This pretty much took out the intersection of Virgin Avenue and Highway 151.  I can not imagine something more sad.  In the last 18 years I have only been back to Platteville a handful of times, just to do some banking stuff but I have always stopped at that Culver's for lunch.  Yeah, traditions die hard.  As do the memories of a galloping Basset Hound that didn't have the good sense that god gave a toothpick.  And good friends that taught me what frozen custard was all about.  And croquet in a large back yard in a small town.

I have truly been blessed.  With good friends, amazingly dumb dogs, alleys, butter burgers and frozen custard.  Yet, a small town has been robbed of an icon.  I can not imagine the loss.  My heart sinks...

With all of my soul I hope that they rebuild, bigger and better than ever.  And with an extra onion ring or two in every order just for good measure.

Aah, Culver's....  Yeah...

OH, IN THE NAME OF MUTHA-FUCKIN' MEATLOAF!!!!

I am basically a normal and stable kind of person.  Stop laughing, I can hear you.  But you know what I mean.  I am reliable.  I am trustworthy.  I WILL be accountable to my promises. Push come to shove (sorry, that is an American English thing) I will grab a shovel and dig you out from the ruin, the wreckage and the rubble.  It's just who I am.  A hand has come down into my deep dark well and pulled me out more than once.  I am thankful for that.  And I pay it forward.  Thank god for a hand in the darkness because it's better than chocolate.  And there just isn't anything better than chocolate.

My better half, Sea Squirt as I like to call him, is up to his tits in the job from Hell.  He has a boss that I can only describe as Hitler.  Yes, I actually said that.  Hitler.  And you know that I don't use that name lightly.  I wouldn't work for that shithead for more than half a nano-second before someone was required to speed dial 911. Sea Squirt's work environment is nightmarish.  To see him come home after work, broken and battered just crushes my soul.

I grew up in a family that owned and ran their own businesses.  Many of them.  I ran my own businesses.  Hell, I used to be a corporate suit for a major retailer.  I learned a long time ago that you are only as good as the people that are underneath you.  They are indeed the ones who keep your inflatable life raft afloat.  Without them you just ain't got a snowballs chance in hell.  To keep your employees battered and bruised is so fucking unacceptable to me it hurts in ways I can't even describe.  Even in my worst corporate meltdowns I never turned on those who worked under me.  We were always a team.  Yes, a team.  I defended them. And I willingly stood in the cross-hairs and took the hit myself.  Yes, I am indeed a team player.  And I can still hold my head high and look at myself in the mirror.  And I thank the Fates for that privilege on a daily basis.

As a boss I was never an asshole.  Demanding?  Yes.  Get it done?  Yes.  I want it yesterday?  Yes.  But I was always more than willing to roll up my sleeves and jump into the deep end to help get it done.  If my crew worked late then so did I.  And when we finally pulled it off then we all got credit for it.  I made sure of that.

When the hell did corporate America sink to this level?  When did employees become no more than chattel?   When did the concept of respect get tossed out of the sun-roof?  And when the bloody hell did the powers that be give an employer the right to treat workers like something less than shit and openly rage at them???  And get away with it!!!

I am angry.  I have a knife.  Your raft is inflatable.  Not a good match...

BEAVER BUTTS???

As god is my witness, even She wouldn't let me make this shit up!!!

Yes, beaver butts.  We are happily eating the damned things with reckless abandon apparently.  Yeah, beaver butts.  I kid you not.

OK, beavers.  I actually like the little critters.  The real ones.  Not the "Brazilian" ones.  Those sort of scare me.  Hey, I'm gay...  But, again, I like beavers.  Oh just stop laughing, I can hear you and I know where most of you live.  Beavers have things called anal glands (lord, I just don't like the sound of that in any way, shape or form!!!) which they apparently use to mark their territories.  Sort of like a dog leaving skid marks on the carpeting (again, I don't like that either).  Think of a skunk pointing its ass at you and spraying you.  Yeah, pretty...

Only in America could the idiots from DuPont, Monsanto and Kraft come up with a use for the aforementioned beaver butt glands.  I am still at a loss to figure out if they "harvest" the excretions (milking a beaver butt?). And just how does one milk a beaver butt???, Tie them down and drain them or advertise for donors.  Is Craig's List more nefarious than I had previously thought???  Which makes me wonder, how many beavers actually have access to wi-fi???  And just how the hell do they get to that beaver butt "plasma center" donation site???  Taxi?  Bus?  Hitchhike?

At any who, beaver butts.  It seems that those anal glands produce something called castoreum.  Yeah, sort of sounds like something out of Imperial Rome, doesn't it?  Well, trust me, it's even worse than that.  It comes out of a beaver's butt.  I'm gagging as I type...  You will not believe what this stuff is used for.  Can you say raspberry "flavored" candies???  Can you say vanilla "flavored" ANYTHING???  Can you say anything even remotely strawberry "flavored"???  Gummi Bears???  Ju-Ju-B's???  Dum-Dum's???  Gum Drops??? Ice cream??? Soft drinks???  I AM FUCKING APPALLED!!!

I will never go to the freaking concession stand again.  Hot dogs were bad enough, but beaver butts???  Hell no!!!

This is enough to make me friends with hummus!!!  And I HATE hummus!!!

Tonight America, I wish you good times and good luck.  Just don't suck up to beaver butt.

EWWWW!!!!!!

HURRAY FOR LAWYERS!!!

I never thought I would ever hear myself say that.  Usually when I think about lawyers I automatically start hearing the theme music for "Jaws".  And my blood usually starts running about 5-degrees colder.  I have even been known to wet myself a bit...

This afternoon that all changed.  Let me give you a little background.  Several years ago due to some unforeseen financial problems I missed a couple of months of payments on one of my credit cards.  CitiBank sold me off to a collection agency in a heartbeat, like a lamb to slaughter.  Then my phone started ringing and my mailbox was filled with "hate mail".  The first collection agency sold me off to another one which in turn sold me off to yet another one.  By that point I was not only totally fed up with threatening phone calls I honestly wasn't sure who owned the debt anymore.  Then I got the letter from 5 great whites with an LLC behind their name.  Yes, an alleged "law firm" from Milwaukee who decided to play hardball.  When the hell did actual lawyers decide it was a good idea to form their own collection agency?  What, you all graduate bottom of your class?  Well, they took me to court and got a judgement against me.  Then they found out that I was disabled, on Social Security and didn't own anything of real "feeding frenzy" value.  They were not amused.  I tapped danced out of the court house.

This last Sunday night we had a knock on the door and I was served a summons.  They were going to go after me again.  Only this time they were gonna play really dirty.  Since they couldn't get anything out of me or access my Social Security benefits they had decided to go for a Garnishment award on my checking account so they could freeze it.  Basically, if they couldn't touch my Social Security they certainly weren't willing to let me touch it either.  PANIC!!!  BLIND PANIC!!!  Then I went, hey, I'm disabled.  I have access to free lawyers.

Early Monday morning I'm on the phone and talking to a lawyer.  Her name is Miri and she is a charmer.  Young and fiesty.  I like that.  Anyway, I meetwith her today.  It took less than 30 minutes and I was on my way back home.  She was quite impressed that I showed up with a manila folder full of paperwork for her to work with.  An hour after I left her office she gave me a call.  She had eaten her way through several of the sharks in Milwaukee and they were preparing the paperwork to stop the Garnishment as we spoke.  The cell phone fell out of my hand.  I had fought with those bastards for 2 years to no avail and she gets them to stand down and scatter in less than an hour.  With a single phone call.  She is now my lawyer of choice.

Miri, here's to you!!!