Buttons.  We have them everywhere for almost everything.  Press a button and a doorbell rings.  Press another and your car starts. Press this button to make a phone call.  Press that button to activate your alarm.  Press these three at the same time to reset your computer.  Press another and nurses come running.  Press the one beside that for another shot of morphine.

We have these buttons to make our lives easier.  I have a remote control for my entertainment center that, with the press of a single button, turns on my TV, turns on my surround sound stereo system, turns on my cable TV tuner, sets the TV to the proper input, and sets the stereo system to the proper input, so I can watch Dr. Phil in high definition Dolby surround sound.  When I’m finished, another single button on that same remote control turns it all off again.

So… buttons are good, right?  I don’t know.

Just yesterday, with the accidental press of a single button, my bluetooth headset re-dialed the last number dialed on my cell phone and called my house.  Nobody was home, so my answering machine recorded five minutes of my day.  Then, with the press of another button, my wife listened to that slice of my day.  Potentially VERY dangerous.  What if, during that 300 second slice of time I was discussing something that, if taken out of context, could have been misunderstood or hurtful?  (Let’s just say I could NEVER say anything negative about my wife.  She is the love of my life and the picture of perfection.  Right, honey?)  Ok… back to my rant.  What if the last number I dialed was my boss and happened to be complaining about him or a past boss when the call accidentally dialed out?  What if, indeed.

I can honestly say I’ve never accidentally place a phone call back in the days of the rotary telephone.

In the past, my buttons, all of which have been designed for my convenience and safety, have unintentionally called home (several times), called others, started my car, opened the door of my car (the sliding door of our minivan and there were a stack of Christmas presents on the seat), popped my trunk, set off alarms, rang a doorbell at 3 am (another long, funny story that I will NEVER write about on this blog!), turned off a movie midway through, sent emails to the wrong people, sent emails before they were written, taken pictures and videos, muted or unmuted phones during conversation and conference calls, hung up the phone line during conversation and conference calls… the list goes on.  Heck, one unintentionally pressed button even ripped one of my fingernails off.

Man… buttons really press my buttons.  Have they ever pressed yours?

So, we are building a house… I know, I know… I didn’t tell any of y’all that yet, but nonetheless, the house is fairly well along.  So, some of our family asks for updates and occasionally we send them pictures of the progress.  One of the latest was the picture included right here in this post.

My wife was on the phone last evening talking with one such relative who will remain unnamed.  Suddenly my wife is unable to talk… she is trying not to laugh… This unnamed relative asked my wife, in a very serious tone, where we plan to put the driveway.

She posed the question to me and I said that we were considering the possibility of putting the driveway directly in front of the garage doors, but come to think of it, we probably should consult with the building contractor or a city planner or something.

I don’t know, though… what do you folks think?

Every now and then, usually as an attempt to inspire me or at least get me off my ass and post more stuff, my buddy Kevin writes a comment on my blog or sends me an email rant.  They are always well written and most could stand as blog posts of their own.  In his latest rant, he tells me that I have a responsibility to wrote more… now that I’ve won that award, I have to live up to more lofty expectation.

Here’s his rant:

WE HAVE A WINNER!!

First, I’d be remiss if I didn’t start this off by saying congratulations on winning the Blogger’s Award. You could say that this was a people’s choice award, given the criteria to come out on top, so in part it’s congratulations to Me . . . and all the other readers who take some comfort coming back again and again to see what the latest posts are dealing with.

With reward comes responsibility. Keeping up with the Joneses doesn’t apply anymore because now it’s become “Keeping up with the Melees”. We, your loyal minions on the readership side, will be looking for cutting edge posts, satirical quips and an all round good time each and every chance we get to log on to the Award Winning Site. Critiques may come fast and furious if we feel let down from time to time and then there’s the fallout if, heaven forbid, writer’s block rears it’s ugly head. Readers can be so demanding, loyal readers even more so.

“Why it’s our blog now”,  some might say, “How dare he not have something up every time I turn on my computer. How can he get away with that, why, I won’t stand for it”.

And so it goes. Yeah, winning can be fun, but it’s not always about winning. Sometimes it’s about us.

Remember a while ago, and by a while ago I mean September, when I informed both of you, my readers, that I was nominated for an award namely the Blogger’s Choice Awards on the Newfoundland and Labrador Blogroll?  You don’t?  Well, I almost forgot too since the voting was so long ago.

Well… due to several circumstances, the site’s administrator was unable to tally the results right away, but when he finally did, guess who won in the Mixed Bag category?  Nope, not Townie Bastard.  Nope, wrong again, not The Owlery Chronicles. Sigh… give up?  It was Oh Me Nerves!  No… I’m not joking, and yes, it WAS a serious vote.  Incidentally, both of those other blogs are very well done, well written, and strong competition.  Based solely on objective criteria, I’m not sure I could have won.

So, since the winner was based on votes from the community, I’d like to thank both of you, my readers, for diligently and consistently voting over and over and over.  I don’t know yet what my award consists of.  Maybe I’ll be able to retire from my day job and dedicate all of my time to writing gibberish on this site.    I think I’ll get some sort of graphic I can post on this site for bragging rights and my blog link will be posted prominently on the NL Blogroll website or something.  Ether way, I’m excited and grateful!

It took me a full day to come to terms with how funny it must have looked. New Year’s Eve, me, freezing rain, and an asphalt driveway all played starring roles in the comedic drama that unfolded outside my house just about a day ago.

There I was, carefully scooting across my driveway, fully aware of the possible dangers the absolute lack of friction below my feet was posing. Then, without warning, drumroll, or ominous soundtrack, my feet were suddenly at a higher altitude than my shoulders. It was as if I’d stepped into some sort of Gilligan’s Island booby trap, but instead of dangling by my feet from a palm tree surrounded by pygmies, I crashed head first into my driveway surrounded by the echoes of my own swearing. And I landed HARD.

I truly believe that when it comes to falling, it’s not true that the bigger you are the harder you fall. It’s the OLDER you are the harder you fall. You see, we get out of practice… We don’t know how to fall anymore… We forget how it feels and the combination of pain and embarrassment overwhelm our senses and we can’t decide which hurts more.

I laid in the driveway for a couple of seconds, not moving, trying to figure out if anyone saw or heard me. While relieved at the time, I’m almost disappointed that nobody saw it. I would like to get verification that it was as incredibly acrobatic to watch as it felt during that slow-motion half-second body slam I endured. I mean, it wasn’t one of those slip slop attempt to recover drunken ballerina looking type of falls. It was as if someone had a rope tied to my feet with the other end tied to a drag racing funny car when the light turned green. Whoosh!

Glad I got it right on the first take. That’s a wrap folks.