Oh Me Nerves! » Alphabet

ATV Ride

Steve — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 00:29:28 +0000

Several weeks ago my wife and I joined several other couples on an ATV ride in Springhill, Nova Scotia. It was early spring and the leaves were just starting to come out on the trees. The area we went riding in was interwoven with all kinds of trails; some technical and slow, others wide open and fast. It was supposed to rain that day, but the weather gods showed some mercy and only sprinkled on us for a few minutes. Check out the pics below. They don’t do the day justice, but you’ll get the idea that it was a pile of fun.

This post flags the conclusion of my alphabet series. For the past two months I’ve been publishing posts with subjects starting with the letters of the alphabet in reverse order. This exercise proved to be more challenging than I thought it might. I had actually intended to have it complete in a month. Oh well…

Here’s that photo slideshow I mentioned earlier. Click the stack of photos to flip to the next picture. Enjoy!

Birthday Boy!

Steve — Tue, 02 Jun 2009 00:25:18 +0000

Yesterday was my son’s 18^th birthday. To celebrate, we brought him and his girlfriend to Montana’s Restaurant. He was hesitant to go because if the staff know it’s your birthday they announce it to the whole restaurant and sing a song. Oh yeah… and they make you wear this silly moose-antlered helmet. I promised him I wouldn’t say anything, so he need not worry about being embarrassed. Thankfully, though, his mother didn’t make that promise!

Here he is, in all his glory! Happy Birthday (yesterday), Garrett!

Child’s Prayer

Steve — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 15:13:10 +0000

Dear God,

This year, can you please send some clothes to all those poor ladies in daddy’s computer?

Dude?

Steve — Fri, 29 May 2009 20:45:14 +0000

Flashback… 25 years ago. I’m working in the kitchen at a McDonald’s restaurant in St. John’s, Newfoundland. It’s busy. REALLY busy. I’m scrambling around the kitchen, obeying the orders of the manager running the production bin. His name is Dick Tracy. (I’ve changed his last name because it’s not important to the story.) I’d always enjoyed when it was busy, so things were going good and I was in good spirits.

Dick: Hey Steve, I need 6 McChicken down. (Meaning putting chicken patties in the deep fryer.)
Me: Right on dude!

Then Dick stopped what he was doing. He marched right across the kitchen and started wagging his finger in my face.

Dick: Don’t you EVER call me “dude” again!
Me: Uh…. why?
Dick: Because where I come from it’s an insult!
Me: And “Dick” isn’t?

I worked at McDonald’s for five years after that. He never spoke another word to me again. Ever.

Incidentally, the definition of “dude”:

[dood, dyood]
–noun
1. a man excessively concerned with his clothes, grooming, and manners.
2. Slang. fellow; chap.
3. a person reared in a large city.
4. Western U.S. an urban Easterner who vacations on a ranch.

I don’t know. Maybe he was reared in his large city by some chap obsessed with his grooming while on vacation on a ranch out west.

Empty Nest

Steve — Wed, 27 May 2009 20:54:24 +0000

My son is in his last week of school, not just for the year, but forever. He’s about to do his final exams and he plans to go to university in the fall at Memorial University back in Newfoundland. In the last three years, since grade 10, he’s really turned it on with regards to his school work. He does his homework without my help or my wife’s ~~nagging~~ rightful prompting. He takes time to study and pays attention in class. His grades in high school have gotten better every year and they are running about 15% higher than when he was in middle school. I think he’s well prepared for the work required from university and has a good head on his shoulders. He’s a good kid and we have a lot to be proud of, but he’s leaving us soon. He’s entering his final summer holidays of adolescence and will be off to university in the fall.

My wife has been in Newfoundland visiting family since last week. My almost-18 son has his own social life and has spent a good portion of his time out with friends, leaving me with nobody but the dog. Aaawwwwweee. I’m not looking for sympathy, I’m just saying I’ve had a lot of quiet time to think. I always thought that as our son grew into a man and left the house to start his own life I’d simply turn a page in my life and start the next chapter. I thought that we’d miss him if he went to another town for university (thank GOD he’s planning to do university) or if he moved out on his own, but we’d go with the flow and enjoy the next phase of our life with lower grocery bills and less laundry.

But as the date gets closer and he hits more milestones spelling out in flashing neon the inevitable day that he moves out my anxiety levels increase. Just like my 40th birthday a couple of years ago, what I thought would be a simple life gate I would walk through is setting up to be a mental and emotional boot camp obstacle course run by some sick drill sergeant yelling obscenities at me. I know it won’t kill me, but it doesn’t calm the feelings of dreadful melancholy that haunt me when I think about it.

We’ve always joked that when he’s 18 he’s outta here, but that always seemed so far away. Somehow, I think I’m gonna hate the sight of that empty laundry basket…

Flat Out

Steve — Mon, 25 May 2009 19:23:16 +0000

This is the latest installment from Donnie Dumphy at Motionshow. It’s from his album “I Loves Doin’ Wheelies”. Funny, funny stuff! You might have to watch it a few times to catch all of the words.

“Never paid for cable in me life. Sure everyone knows all you needs is a set of needle nose pliers.”

Click here to view the embedded video.

Guts or Balls

Steve — Thu, 21 May 2009 11:23:50 +0000

There is a medical distinction. We’ve all heard about people having guts or balls, but do you really know the difference between them? In an effort to keep you informed, the definitions are listed below:

GUTS – Is arriving home late after a night out with the guys, being met by your wife with a broom, and having the guts to ask: “Are you still cleaning, or are you flying somewhere?”

BALLS – Is coming home late after a night out with the guys, smelling of perfume and beer, lipstick on your collar, slapping your wife on the butt and having the balls to say: “You’re next, Chubby.”

I hope this clears up any confusion on the definitions. Medically speaking there is no difference in the outcome. Both result in death.

Thanks Guy. Disclaimer: The above is a joke and is intended for amusement purposes only. The author of this blog neither practices nor condones behaviour which promotes chauvinist stereotypes or adulterous behaviour. Any similarity to persons or events is purely coincidental. Besides, I was stuck on my “G” post and this showed up in my inbox this morning.

Hyundai Commercial

Steve — Sun, 17 May 2009 03:02:06 +0000

In today’s economy, some car companies will fucking do anything for your business.

Click here to view the embedded video.

I May Be Small…

Steve — Sat, 16 May 2009 03:00:35 +0000

But not too small to be a CMT Veejay!

My niece Melissa, author of the blog I May Be Small…, has auditioned for CMT’s Casting Call and has been shortlisted as one of the final sixteen candidates for the job. She’s the only finalist hailing from Newfoundland, and in my opinion, the only choice for the job!

From the CMT website:

CMT is giving one lucky “Superfan” the chance to land the ultimate job and become our next summer host.

We’re searching for someone who dreams of interviewing country stars and attending the hottest events of the summer! Someone who’s a country music know-it-all and follows the latest news! Someone who has always dreamed of being on national TV and sharing their country passion! Who will it be?

There will be five finalists chosen from the sixteen by way of votes cast on CMT’s site. Those finalists then have their auditions aired on CMT for another round of voting by viewers. So, please, please, click the picture on this post and go vote for her. Vote as often as the batteries in your mouse will allow and then go out and buy more batteries and vote some more!

Just A Boy From Newfoundland

Steve — Wed, 13 May 2009 20:45:55 +0000

I have a lot to do in my day-to-day life. There are gobs of projects that remain unstarted and many others unfinished. I have several hobbies that occupy my interest and I have a family to care and provide for. While I enjoy this interwebby thing with all these interesting blogs, I don’t want to spend hours and hours of everyday reading about what’s going on in everybody else’s world. With all this in mind, I’m fairly picky over which and how many blogs I read on a regular basis.

I like blogs that are interesting, funny, quirky and informative. Strike a chord on several of these for me and you’ve got a subscriber. I happened across Just A Boy From Newfoundland several years ago, I don’t remember exactly when. I wouldn’t describe it as funny, quirky or informative, but for some reason it grabbed my attention. It is not the typical blog that draws me. The author posts very infrequently. I’ve often thought that he’d given up on his blog. However, when he does post, it is usually a post that you must commit to reading. He narrates anecdotes from his life and drains his heart in a verbose, sentimental style that just pulls me in. He’s lived a wild life that teetered on the edge of destruction. His posts reflect on his constant struggle to recover from his past sins while continuing to fight off the demons that almost killed him in the first place.

I had already long been hooked when he wrote the post Old City Memories. In it, he writes about his home town, St. John’s, Newfoundland. Specifically, he bluntly describes the rough neighbourhoods familiar to anyone from that town, neighbourhoods which, coincidentally, I lived in and grew up in myself. I reached out to him and discovered that he had been writing under a pseudonym. While I don’t know him directly, I knew his older brothers. It’s funny how the intersections of life, with the internet as a catalyst, prove to us that this is truly a small, small world.

Check him out.