Citizen's Police Academy

The letter arrived today. I saw the envelope and rushed to my desk in search of the letter opener. I grew more excited with each word ... "We would be happy to have you in our Fall 2005 session."

Yippee, I thought, I'm going to spend Wednesday evening for 10 weeks learning about the local Police Department. The course will include an evening ride along with an officer and the opportunity to shot a hand gun in firing range.

This intrigues me. The urge to own or fire a handgun has never been a desire of mine. I have never understood the "handgun passion " some of my friends display while discussing the topic. Perhaps this experience will provide me with some insight.

I look forward to stepping into the shoes of those who serve and protect.

The Shrine

I was in Houston, Texas this week for a business meeting. After I passed through security at the airport, I stumbled upon a shrine to George & Barbara Bush. Moments after I snapped my photo, an excited family appeared. Mom pulls out her camera and asked her daughter to saddle up to George for a picture.

What a way to end my trip.

Birthing

My cousin is expecting her first child soon. Her and I were chatting about child birth preparations, including a recent class she and her husband attended.

Instructor: "Does anyone know another word for vagina?"
The look at each other, and my cousin whispers, "I can think of three that start with C, two with P and one with W."
"I can top that, I can think of 8 off the top of my head", her husband replies.
Both suppress the urge to snicker as they realize everyone else is looking way too serious.

My cousin ponders on the way home if the other expecting parents are just too uptight or if she is just to immature.

After rolling on the floor laughing and wondering how many words I can think of, I snort, "the other folks are just too uptight!"

Toy Store Sponsor

We were at a screening of Carmen Miranda: Bananas is My Business. While waiting for the movie to start, I couldn't resist a visit to the sponsor table.

Creative Whim

Thunderbird Rainbow

I completed the form, addressed the envelope and gave it a lick. Tomorrow I am off to the post office with my first ever creative whim.

Oh, the background ... I was flipping through the monthly Costco members magazine and found an advertisement for the 2005 Costco Photo Contest. I had the urge to enter.

I combed through my recent photos, narrowing the search to five. I picked up the prints today and spotted my two favorites. Next, I went to Tim for his thoughts. After looking through all of the photos several times, his favorite was one of the two I liked.

Now the waiting game. I wait for the post office to open tomorrow. I wait till December, when the lucky few will be chosen.

Winner or not, I am delighted I jumped over the edge with my eyes open and camera ready. Next time I have the urge, I'll be ready to take the plunge.

Batter Up

We jumped on the bus and headed to Milwaukee for a tailgate party and trip to the Brewer's game.

It was Lyle Overbay bobble head night. While engrossed in conversation, security descended on the row in front of me. A testosterone, beer fueled discussion unfolded.

Fan 1: "He came down here and said 'If you try to take my bobble head again, I'll woop your f*cking a*s'"

Fan 1: "I don't what the hell he's talking about"

Back and forth it went, till Security politely ordered everyone to calm down and get back to their seats or be ejected from the park. The men complied immediately, knowing full well there are no beer stands outside the park.

I was a tad disappointed everyone simmered down. I was looking forward to telling the story about how I survived a bobble head ball at the Brewers baseball game.

Savor the Flavor

A friend stopped by yesterday and dropped off a few peaches, picked the day before from her parents orchard.

This morning, I grabbed one and took a bite. Nature took over and I morphed into a ravenous animal, devouring every bit of the meat and flesh.

In a trance, I picked up another. I brought it to my lips, breathing deep as I took a bite. Savoring the mixture of earthy aroma and sweet flavors. Delighted by the furry flesh and silky soft meat. Each bite more orgasmic then the next.

Smacking my lips, I sat back, satiated.

The Farting Cow

I stumbled on a wacky fact this morning ... the belching and farting from dairy cows produce some 19.3 pounds of gases each year. A somewhat random and humors fact at first glance.

Then I learned cow gas works like auto emission, reacting with other pollutants to form ground-level ozone or smog. So much ozone and smog, in fact, some experts in the California San Joaquin Valley say cow emissions surpass car emission as the biggest producer of smog-forming gases.

I find it fascinating and disturbing, an animal that provides us with milk, the ingredient for so many life sustaining foods, pollutes with such a vengeance. So many questions come to mind as I digest this.

• Are the cows farting and belching more than before?
• If they are, are modern farming practices the cause (changes in feed to improve milk production)?
• Can we figure out a way to harness the gas as an alternative energy source (a bit crazy, but gas prices are out of control)?
• Would Beano help?
• What happens to all the cow poop (scooping the kitty litter box is far from my favorite thing ... I don't even wan't to imagine the amount of scooping required for several hundred cows ... and the size of the poop ... yikes!)?
• How much polution do I produce when I fart and belch (with that question some may question if I was raised by a pack of wolves)?

Who would have thought farting and belching cows would provoke so much thought on a Saturday morning. It's so wacky, I'll be chewing on it for a bit.

Long Lost Chatter about the Fish

I was cleaning house the other day and found this note. I wrote it after the death of our algae eater.

A prominent religious leader is under investigation. On Friday, July 19, 2002, the carcass of Angel the Algae Eater was discovered tucked into the corner of the Barnes Place Aquatorium.

Angel was a devoted disciple of this unnamed leader and regularly attended services held on the mountain in the Aquatorium.

There is quite a hub-bub in the Barnes Place community. Some say this unnamed leader was responsible, others speculate Angel's Aquatorium mates were jealous of all the attention he was getting. A few even think it was a cult suicide of some sort.

Investigators are sloshing about the scene in an effort to uncover clues to this mysterious death.

Top Notch Security

This is one way to keep your car's innards safe and sound.

Strip Mall Antics

Llama and goats and sheep, oh my!

On my way to my woodworking class, I stumbled on a petting zoo and pony rides in the parking lot of an inner city strip mall.

It is a 'sign'

I opened the door late this morning and was greeted with a burst of hot and humid August air. Breathing the heavy air, I strolled down the driveway, with dogs in tow.

The dogs guided me to the flower bed for a sniff and a pee. It came into view. I drew closer and wondered why Tim would leave a pile of weeds in front of the flower bed.

The flash bulb ignites. The weeds are two feet long, trimmed at the base with pruning shears and covered with large burrs. I know for a fact, nothing like that was in the flower beds and it is too hot for Tim to venture out, let alone pull weeds. Another flash, I have cleaned up piles of weeds in the same spot, twice before. I figured Tim, struck by the weed pulling bug, left each pile for later clean-up.

I find it odd and share the discovery with Tim. He then shares the story at the water cooler. "Oh dear", his co-worker replies, "you know it's a 'sign' from the neighbors".

"A what, a 'sign' you say?", Tim asks.

"Why of course", she replies. "You're yard does not meet expectations and a neighbor is sending you a 'sign'."

Tim recounts the tale and my temper flares. "What NERVE!" I retort, "utterly rude and unneighborly"

I chewed on the situation during my train ride into the city. My anger subsided and my heart filled with sadness. Not for myself, but for the person who left the weeds. It is a 'sign', I thought. A 'sign' of an empty, superficial soul that values appearances more than substance and where you can greet your neighbor with a smile, then deliver a bouquet of thorns as a welcome gift.

I took few minutes before going to bed to give thanks for my blessings: a loving spouse, fantastic family and friends, an interesting job (part of the time anyway), and many other wonderful experiences. I send out thoughts of forgiveness and love. Perhaps one day, our new florist's sadness will be replaced with joy.

Till then, I graciously accept any bouquet of nature's wonders you leave me.