My 12 year old son is in choir. He had a "concert" this evening for the last time in 6th grade. He has a wonderful voice, but has decided that he doesn't like to sing around the family. He only sings at choir practice and for performances. I'm not sure what brought about the change, but he has been that way for a couple of years now.

He was 5 years old when we realized he had a really good musical ear. He has great pitch and actually hits the notes he is trying to hit unlike his father who couldn't sing his way out of a paper sack. Cameron used to sing country songs for us and dance while he was singing them. He was quite the entertainer. At 6 years old he had memorized a dozen Toby Keith Songs and could sing them at the drop of a hat. He would try to get everybody to gather around in the family room and then he would bring out his cd player or the karaoke machine and blast out "Wanna Talk about Me", or "Beer for my Horses". He knew other music as well and developed a taste for listening to classical music. He told me that he wanted to play sax or guitar. As of now he has a guitar but hasn't learned it. He lost interest in learning to play music but has kept his interest in learning songs from his music teacher.

So tonight was his teacher's final concert. After 42 years of teaching music the guy is retiring. He deserves a break and although he will be sorely missed, we are happy for him. So the choir sang their songs one of them being "Rich Man" from Fiddler on the Roof. They did a commendable job. It's very relaxing for me to hear a group of people sing in tune. Of course it's also nice if you can actually hear the kids singing.

I have raised 3 boys and understand that when children are young they can be cranky, messy, noisy, whiney, smelly, gassy, and every other "y" you can name. BUT that doesn't mean that everybody else should have to share those things with my child. When my kids got to being noisy or irritating they would be outside with me until they could calm down and not disturb the other people that came to watch their children perform. I call that common courtesy. Just because I wanted kids, doesn't mean that the person sitting next to me wanted my kids too.

Tonight there were a lot of people that decided everybody should get to enjoy their child's noisy nature. This was of course at the expense of missing a good portion of the program. I couldn't believe that people are that unconcerned with anyone else but themselves that they couldn't take the few minutes it would have taken to walk their child outside to calm them down. I guess things are different.

So my kid finished his program and he was happy and excited that he got to do it. I look forward to the years ahead as he has already told me he wants to continue with choir and has even considered drama. I didn't take drama in school because I thought I was too cool. I have held that regret for years. I tell my kids not to worry about what other people MIGHT think. They should try it if they think it might be interesting. So here's hoping for many more years of choir and maybe band and hopefully high school drama class!!

BTW...I have not had the time to get my pictures from 6th grade camp downloaded yet. I will do that this weekend and give you guys some pretty pics of some great landscape (hopefully).

I've just returned home from a week of 6th grade camp. I saw the post from Ian at the Daily Dose and I also saw that he wanted it reposted Friday ....So with 3 minutes to spare I'm cheating and linking directly to his post. He will try and BS you into thinking he doesn't write well, but anybody who can write from the heart like he can does just fine in my book...

Hello blog-world! I am participating in what's known around the world as Mission Monkey day! What is Mission Monkey you ask? Well, there's this blogger friend of ours known as Pixie Momma, aka Michelle. Michelle has a little girl, or Monkey as she's known by who was diagnosed with Neuroblastoma. To learn more about it, click here. Monkey is a sweet little 16 month old girl. She doesn't deserve this. Nobody deserves this.

But the good news is that Monkey only has Stage 1 (low risk). The bad news is the medical bills are mounting and the Physical Therapy (starts today) isn't covered by insurance. Michelle is using the donated money to offset medical bills. She will donate and unused portion to another family dealing with the same issue.

This is why the blogging universe is banning together like never before to rally around Michelle and Monkey to provide support. In addition to further entice you to lend your hand, and donate to the cause, we have over 50 items that have been donated. Many bloggers are hosting these fabulous giveaways and all you need to win one of these items is just one raffle ticket.

Donation pages:
Princess of Sarcasm - http://bit.ly/9nUmBp
The One and Only Oka - http://bit.ly/9KZSOG
SupahMommy - http://bit.ly/bSMrGw
Jenn B Says #1 - http://bit.ly/bYzHAH
Jenn B Says #2 - http://bit.ly/bej01D
Amber - http://bit.ly/cTGq29
Two Little Monkeys - http://bit.ly/cZKjzK
Mommy's Nest - http://bit.ly/9tLjoy
Chief's Hiding From the Kids - http://bit.ly/cfKIiO
Jenny - http://bit.ly/dftIS2
Jana - http://bit.ly/aUKVjM

You may donate any amount of money via PayPal as it's linked directly to Michelle's bank account. However, in order to be a part of the raffle, this is how that's going to go. If you donate the following, you get the subsequent number of entries:

$10 - 2 entries
$20 - 5 entries
$30 - 10 entries
$40 - 15 entries
$50 - 20 entries
$75 - 35 entries
$100 - 50 entries
$200 - 125 entries
The raffles for each item will start on or around July 1st.


Jump on over to Ian at Daily Dose of Reality for all the worthwhile news on this great thing he is doing...Do yourself a favor and grab up an entry or two...

Well this is that time of the week again. We get to ask and answer five random questions. These are all dedicated to Michelle's Little Monkey. I hope you guys are all keeping her in your thoughts and prayers.

Just a heads up to my faithful few...I am headed off to 6th grade came for a week, so this will be my last post until Friday night or maybe Saturday. (yeah I know...how will you make it).

So without further ado here are the questions....

1, Have you ever peed in the shower/bath/pool?
At some point in my life yes to all of the above. Any guy who says they haven't well I'm thinking you might be lying....

2. What is your biggest pet peeve?
Tough one, since I have a few. I think my biggest one is when somebody says they will call back and don't....I hate it when somebody breaks their word to me.


3. What's the story behind your blog title?
Story indeed....I play video games and in this one particular game I play, I was required to make a character name. BUT...It had to have two names like a first and last....Well I was a little ticked off, because I've never had to have two names on a game before..So the in game name became bendigo's rage...It was meant to show my irritation at their dumb developer's way of making more names available in a game...It manifested itself into a story and a blog title, because I was finding myself writing about things that irritated or annoyed me. There is more to it, but dang, I don't want to think that much right now :)


4. What is your definition of success?
Wake up suck in air, see my wife and kids and be able to head off to work and get home. Have dinner with the family and play with the kids...That's success to me...And the longer I get to do it, the more successful I feel I am.

5. If you were famous, what would you want to be famous for?
Being a positive impact on a large group of young people. I want to be able to make a difference for as many people in a positive way as possible.

So there you have it, but you need to go check out Ian's answers here.

don't forget to check out his other posts about the raffle...Remember at the least one thought or prayer a day guys....

See ya in a week :)

I was asked by a certain follower (ABAO) to make a post about Puppy Dogs and Rainbows. Well I figured that I might be able to fit that in and still talk about some stuff I want to talk about.

Momma's Pixie Dream...... If you don't follow you should. Michelle's little monkey is going through some bad stuff and she could use all the support you can muster. This poor little child has a terrible thing called Neuroblastoma. Suffice it to say that it's cancer and no child should have to endure it. IT'S NOT FAIR!! I have children and can only imagine the horror and helplessness this poor woman feels at a terrible moment like this.

So we are going to give her a lot of support and we are going to try and cheer the little monkey up. Lots of prayers and great thoughts need to go their way and we are the people that need to send them.

So let's talk about puppy dogs and rainbows shall we. I have 2 puppy dogs...Well I actually have 4 but they aren't all really puppy dogs. Two of them are full grown. They are my extended family and I love them dearly. So I thought I'd share a couple of pictures of my little pups...

Now the top puppy is Amber, and the bottom one is Jade. They are cute as buttons and destructive as locust...But we love them all the same. I would put pics of the other two, but they are not what I would call "puppy dogs". Also notice the rainbow...So now we have covered all the puppy dogs and rainbows I hope this cheers you up a little bit.

Now what you need to do is head over to Daily Dose of Reality. Ian has a raffle going to raise money to help Monkey. It's a great cause and if you can afford to do it, please do. My family means everything to me, and I'm sure Michelle feels the same about her wonderful family. Let's do everything we can to help. Let's show everybody that in our corner of the blogosphere WE CARE!!!






So there you have it Puppy dogs and Rainbows and One Monkey...Do what you can for this special little one...I'm asking you at the very least say one special prayer for her every day!

I'm a bad boy, and I've done the link up so late in the day. For that I'm truly sorry...We all know that this is a special Monkey Minute. It's all about the Monkey. Michelle's Little Monkey to be more specific. Her little one is fighting an ugly thing, and she needs everybody to offer up some prayer and good wishes. So don't dawdle around, if you have the inside track with the big guy upstairs. Do your part and let her know you are thinking of her little monkey...

Here are this weeks questions...

1 - How old do you act?
Welllllll...I act about 12 at home and about 70 at work..

2 - As far back as you can remember, what did you want to be when you grew up?
I wanted to be a teacher...Pffft....I didn't realize I would need to go to so much school to work in the school though.

3 - If you were to write a book based on your life, what would the title be?
The Comeback Kid!

4 - What's something that you do that's considered "childish" by most?
Childish and gross...My brother and I and my sister for that matter "blow" burps at each other...lol

5 - The last question isn't a question. Write a story of a time of when you or someone you know overcame great adversity.
I unfortunately have many of these..I'm gonna pick my mom's story though...My mom was ill for many years and they couldn't quite figure out what was wrong with her. She had terrible itching all the time, and couldn't wear any clothing but pure cotton. She was told to try not eating wheat, no salt, and every other possible thing that adds flavor to your food. Finally after about 3 years of doctor's visits and a number of possible solutions, she got a doctor who told her that she had Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. By this time my mother was in the hospital with pneumonia. Her lungs were filling up with fluid and they had to drain them. She was scared that first time they drained them. She learned to dread that procedure the other three times they did it. She was finally healthy enough to leave the hospital, and after a short stint at home for complete recovery, she began her chemotherapy. For 1 year my mom went down to the outpatient center and received chemo three times a week then 4 times a week, then a week off and start again. She lost a good deal of her hair, and although she was scared out of her mind, she always managed to ask us how WE were doing. After a year of treatment it was decided that she was in remission. She has been going back regularly for check-ups since and to date she hasn't had a problem again. Her hair grew back and mom is healthy once again. I talk about hope a lot and this is one of the reasons for that. Mom is a firm believer that good things happen if you beleive they can. Hope starts there.

So to Michelle I say, Keep the faith and keep hoping. We are all praying for your little monkey. Good things are coming her way....Now drop by her site and give her some support...


And even though I'm so darned late getting this out...Go check out IAN and check out his answers he doesn't ever fail to deliver....

A great many of my posts have dealt with my father. I was fortunate enough to have a dad who was dedicated to my growing up. I have made mention of Mom, but not in any detail. I figured that Mother's Day is a fitting time to say thank you to a truly great woman.

My mom is an only child. She was raised in a VERY Italian culture. She didn't even speak English until she was ready to enter Kindergarten. My grandparents decided that this was the country they would live in, and this would be the language they should speak. Mom learned English at the age of 5 and in time to go to school.

She grew up unlike many only children. She was not especially spoiled, and her parents didn't have a lot of time for her. My grandparents both worked (not real common back in the day). My grandmother worked at an Olive factory and my grandfather was a baker. So mom spent a good deal of time with Aunts and Uncles.

I have heard all the tales of her growing up so many times that they come to my mind without hesitation. I can see the family outings in the mountains that she spoke of so often, in my mind as clearly as if I was there. I was fortunate enough to get to enjoy many of those same things with Mom and Dad as we grew up.

Mom worked as a teacher's aide for an elementary school. The kids were drawn to her, because she has a ready smile for everybody. She would patiently guide them through the school work and I later met many kids from her classes that told me often that she was far better than their teacher. My mom is somebody who wants to help everybody. She was an aide for a number of years before she moved up to the Administrative offices. She became an assistant to the Superintendent of Schools. My mom was so proud of her accomplishment. She never had a college education, but she managed to handle the job as if she was born to it.

Now along with working at the school, mom also took other jobs to make ends meet. She worked on the assembly line of a chip factory at night for a while as well. I can still remember her coming home with the scent of tortilla chips on her clothes. She loved that job even though it was just working a line. She told me often that it reminded her that she can always find something to feed her family if she has to. Mom was never too proud to do what needed to be done. I learned that lesson, just not as quickly as she did.

I can say that throughout my entire childhood I can't remember a time we didn't have dinner as a family. If mom wasn't there the dinner was already made and my dad would heat it up. We would eat as a family of 5 or a family of 4, but we would eat as a family. That was because Mom INSISTED that we sit together and talk about our day. We would get the chance to tell our parents how school was going, and what we did well or not so well that day. Dinner was a great time in my house as a kid.

Mom has seen me through illness, happiness, injury, marriage, divorce, children, financial ruin, personal ruin, and personal triumph. The most important thing Mom has done is see me through life. She has always been there, usually quietly in the background offering support or advice. Never forcing her opinion on me, but always ready to offer it if I asked (sometimes when I didn't). She has loved me unconditionally, defended me faithfully, and I could not ask for a better Grandmother for my children.

So this is just a small way for me to say...Mom I Love you...Thank you for everything you have done and continue to do for this not so perfect son of yours.

Happy Mother's Day.....

I have made a few posts regarding pets. I'm definitely an animal lover, but I surely do hate when they get to their later years and become deathly ill, or have to be put down. This is the case with my parents dog Sadie.

My mom rescued Sadie when she was a pup running wild in a field. My mom worked across the street from the field and would bring food over there every day for the 3 little pups that were running around. Finally after many nights of feeding and building shelters for them, they caught all three. My mom was able to give away two of them, but the third one was left out. She was just too darned big and nobody wanted this huge pup. Sadie became a member of my moms family.

She wouldn't come anywhere near the door of the house. She stayed in the backyard and a huge doghouse was built for her. Sadie weighed in at around 140 lbs. and there was no fat on this huge girl. She was friendly but ever alert for some trouble. She was a wild pup learning to be in the presence of not so wild surroundings. It was three years before she would even stand at the french doors leading into mom's house. Finally she popped her head in one day. She then started hanging around my dad's feet at the kitchen table while he read the paper. Before long she was sleeping in the hallway and eventually she slept at the foot of mom and dad's bed. Sadie had finally adopted the family who adopted her.

She was very fortunate for most of her life as far as illness went. She wasn't often sick and just had some problems with her teeth. She is about 14 (maybe 15 we aren't exactly sure). The doctor told us that she was in twilight years for a dog of her size. She never showed any signs of slowing down except that her legs are now stiff when she gets up and she lumbers instead of having that spring to her step. We just accepted that as part of growing older and she did too.

Over the past year Sadie has had many bouts with her gums and nose. She has bled on and off from her nose and mouth for the past year and they didn't really know why. They gave her medicine to help heal any infections, and she was even on steroids for some time. Yesterday the bleeding became regular and not just slight. She is having trouble breathing and has blood in her stomach. The big girl is suffering and we can't stand to see this happen to such a sweet dog.

I'm going back over to mom and dad's in a little bit and we are going to put her in the truck for her last ride. She will be in no pain or discomfort very soon. My mom is beside herself with grief over this tough decision and my dad, while not showing it as much is devastated. I have seen them go through this many times, as they have had animals all my childhood. It doesn't get easier and they go in knowing this is the likely result. I am going to try and talk my dad into letting me take the big girl down on her final ride and I hope he will see it's the best way.

Sadie....We are gonna miss you big girl. We love you, and only want you to be free of pain and suffering. You are going to get to run after the birds in the backyard real soon and you will get to see Hector and Bridgette as well... God Speed you were always a good girl .......

Since I'm a father I think the most precious thing I can be entrusted with is the care of my children. They are depending on my to protect them, feed them, give them advice, and most of all to love them. They don't necessarily understand why they expect these things of me any more than I could understand why I know they are expected. It's the job of every parent to protect their child PERIOD.

I was shocked and disgusted when I read about the woman that drowned her baby in a bathtub in a hotel room a few weeks ago. There were two other children left untouched in the room, tucked in bed. This woman, I'm told was suffering from postpartum depression or something similar since they aren't yet sure. I didn't think it got worse than doing that. I had heard of other cases of a mother killing their child, but that is one of the worst ways I could think of. I am pretty sure because that is my great fear, to drown (of course that is in the deep dark water somewhere not a tub). I figured that after reading that I was pretty desensitized to any other horrid, unspeakable acts by the human race upon their children, but I was wrong.

A few days ago a 911 operator received a call from a man who said that a child was stabbed and thrown down some steps. The officers responded and found a boy of 3 who had been stabbed somewhere in the vicinity of 15 times and then thrown down his concrete steps to the floor below. The witness who happened to be a neighbor said that he saw the boy with multiple stab wounds at the bottom of the stairs and all he could hear was the boy calling out "mommy". It turns out that his mother was the person who stabbed him and then tried to fight with the officers, telling them not to help the child. She had a 2 month old baby in her home.

I'm not a person who sheds a tear about many things. I figured that not many things could affect my heart in a way to bring tears anymore. I was wrong. The thought of this little boy who only knows that mom is there to protect and watch over him, was still calling for the monster who was the reason for all of his pain. He is in critical condition in the hospital as I type this, and they don't know if he will recover or not. His mother was obviously arrested and the little baby girl was taken by child protective services.

People have been making excuses for this woman on the news, on the radio, in the newspapers and around our office even. I hear that she had so many mental problems and that she suffered from postpartum psychosis. There were other people coming on a talk show and telling their stories of near misses due to the same illness.

As I listened to the stories one thing kept crawling back into my mind. ALMOST, they almost hurt their children. They saw they had a problem and got help. They saw something was wrong and took a chance for some self reflection. They saw a problem and they did something about it. They didn't just go half cocked and harm their child. They didn't kill their most precious treasure. They realized soon enough that they could and should do something, that it was their responsibility to take care and protect their child.

I don't feel pity for this woman, and I surely don't feel compassion for her. I feel only sorrow for the poor little boy and little girl. People are too quick to blame everything on a mental disparity. They are quick to have an excuse for something going wrong. The mother had some history of drugs, so could that have maybe been a contributing factor? Was the family aware of what was going on? To some degree they were the sister or sister-in-law thought that drugs were playing a role.

I read about parents struggling to save their children every day. We are watching someone we read here in our own little blog world deal with tragic circumstances with their little monkey. These are people that are striving to do all they can to protect those who rely on us for so much, and then I see the evil, disgusting head of this woman rear itself as she tries to snuff out one of the only things that could have given her any hope of being a productive human being. Her simple task was to raise and love her children and she failed. She failed her poor little boy and that now motherless little girl. Maybe she was afraid to ask for help, and maybe she didn't see a problem. Maybe she thought everybody would look down on her if she admitted she couldn't do it.

I look around me nowadays and I see grief, and fear. I see people full of hopelessness and I see people who have given up. Maybe this woman is just a sign of where we are heading. Maybe she is a front runner to what the parents of the future will be like. This could be the precursor to a truly hellish future. I like to think it's not. I like to think that we are just in an emotional funk as a society. I am hopeful that we are going to figure this out, and we are going to teach our children to be loving, compassionate, caring parents. That is the most important lesson we can give our kids. We can teach them that it's ok to ask for help if we are feeling helpless. It's ok to accept a helping hand when we know we are at the end of our rope. It's also ok to admit we failed at something. We learn far more from our failures than our success. It's not about falling down, it's about getting back up. It's about doing right no matter how badly we are tempted to do wrong.

That is the legacy I'm leaving my kids. Never give up, never lose hope, never stop caring. Randy Travis said it pretty good..."It's not what you take when you leave this world behind you, it's what you leave behind you when you go.

If you happened to read my answers to the Monday Minute you will see that I answered the worst fight I had been in with a comment about a car door and my head meeting. Let me correct and say that it was a truck door, and it was in fact MY truck door.

I had a few scraps as a youngster. I didn't fight out of anger (usually). It was a matter of pride in some cases but more often than not I think we were bored. I can't remember getting really mad about anything and running into a fight. I was always of the belief that there is a time when talking won't resolve the issue. Sometimes you are gonna get your ears boxed in and the best thing you can do is be prepared for it in case it happens.

Well that situation presented itself one lovely day after school. I was approached by three guys and told that one of them had a girlfriend whom I was seeing. So many schoolyard fights are typical, they are the same setup lines and are usually just one guy (or many) wanting to pick on somebody. Now I knew this guy and I knew his ex-girlfriend, because I had gone out with her. She didn't want anything more to do with him, and I made sure I told him that in front of his two little friends. They warned me that if I was with her again, they would do "bad" things to me. I laughed and told them to do what they had to do. They didn't understand why I wasn't scared, but what they couldn't see was that I was scared. I just didn't figure to let them know how much.

Now my father always told me to know when trouble was coming. He explained to me at an early age that if somebody grabs me, I should defend myself. He also told me that if I had to fight, I should always strike first and strike hard. Needless to say I took that advice to heart. I watched the first guy come up in front of me and he started telling me that he was gonna kick my ass and blah blah blah. I told him once to back off, and it was his turn to laugh. That was when he pushed me. He didn't push me hard, he was just trying for some intimidation. My foot went back and then I was set and I punched him right in the lip. Before he could take a step back I kicked him in the knee and then I backed up waiting to see what the other two were going to do.

The tough guy was holding his lip because I got him good and he was bleeding a little bit. He was sorta hopping around on his good leg while his two friends were trying to calm him down a little bit. I decided I needed to make my bluff a little better because if the other two decided to rush me I was in for a good deal of pain. So I jumped forward and started yelling at em, "Come on!! I'll kick your ass too!!!!" They were startled and I like to think a little scared they grabbed up their buddy and left. I was pretty proud of myself that afternoon. I figured that I managed to avoid a lot of trouble with a small amount of force. The mental patting of the back happened and I went home.

As with most things as a teenager, I didn't think much about that incident, I had other things to consider. You know stuff like well....girls, sports, a big gulp from 7-11. You know important teen decisions, so that little scrap was soon forgotten well at least by me it was. That turned out to be a bad thing.

A week to the day after my run in with the 3 stooges, I was at my truck throwing all my junk in the back to go home. As I came to my door, one of those three was standing there and he told me he just wanted to talk for a second. I figured since he was alone, it would be just fine. So he tells me that his friend really likes this girl and he just wants me to back off for a little bit to give them a chance to work out their problems, and he is going on and on. I should have known I was being set up. I told him that I would ask her what she wanted to do, and if she told me to go then I would, but if not that was his friends problem. He told me something like "fair enough" and as I started to turn stooge #2 came from outside my line of sight. He basically grabbed my hair and belt loop on the run and led me straight into the door of my 1971 Ford truck. Now this is no modern fiberglass door, this is real good ol' fashioned metal. My head left a decent imprint in my door.

I've seen lots of guys get slammed into doors in movies, and usually they brush it off in a few seconds......NOT ACCURATE. I found out later I was slammed into my door 3 times but I only remember feeling the first one and it hurt! As I was falling to my knees the guy who slammed my head kicked me a couple of times then spit on me. I could have lived with the kicking and would have probably gotten over the head in the door thing, but he spit on me and that I couldn't get past.

I had a surprisingly small cut on my head from the impact, but I did have a rapidly swelling goose egg developing on my forehead. So, the guy that held my attention ran off when his buddy started slamming my head in the door. I guess he didn't want to be caught around a fight. Although in all fairness at that moment it wasn't a fight, it was a beating. I didn't do anything but take a slamming to my head and then take some kicking to boot. I guess that he figured I was all done in and said something that I couldn't really understand since my ears were ringing pretty good, and my vision was sort of hazy. I was on my knee wondering if I was going to the hospital, or if my parents were gonna be mad at me for wrecking the truck. It's funny what you think about in those moments. I couldn't remember what street I was on, but I could remember that I had dented my truck.

I tried to stand up, but my legs were still sort of jelly, so I went back to a knee to get my bearings. A girl that saw the whole thing came over and asked if I was ok. I told her I was fine, and she ran to a water fountain and wet her new headband and gave it to me. She was a volleyball player and I guess she had just gotten new sweatbands. I remember that so vividly because she made a point of telling me, "Don't worry they are brand new." I guess she figured that in my shape I would care if there was sweat mingled with cold water. I thanked her, and sort of wiped the little bit of blood off my head and left the band there to cool off my goose egg forehead. That was when that girl, bless her heart told me, "They are all standing over behind the economics building." I do appreciate a thoughtful girl. I guess she wanted to see me get my head busted in some more.

The second time I tried to stand up was much better, except for when I put my hands down, the asphalt was all crumbly and I almost fell because the piece my hand was on was separated from the road. I made it up though and that's when I looked down and saw the equalizer. That piece of blacktop that was loose from the road was sitting there looking up at me. I could tell it wanted me to take it "just in case". I grabbed up my new friend and started walking (fairly straight) towards the economics building which was only about 1/2 block away. My head was pounding something terrible and my vision was ok, but a bit hazy. If you have ever spent too much time in a swimming pool, and everything is a little big foggy that is what my vision was like.

There they were standing together talking like nothing happened. I found my attacker talking to his other two friend/accomplices. It turns out that the guy who put my head into the door was the same guy I punched. They hadn't seen me yet, so I kept walking up until I was only about 20 feet away. That was when the counter-attack began. I ran (walked fast, and unsteady) at him. He wasn't paying attention and his friends weren't looking my way. When I got to a couple of feet away one of his friends saw me and started to yell something, but that just made my guy, turn his back completely to me as he turned to look. I landed on his back with my arm across his chest and that piece of blacktop came right over the top of his head and landed with a satisfying crunch upon the bridge of his nose. Looking back it wasn't my finest hour. But I have to admit that it felt pretty good at the time.

That boy went down like a sack of potatoes. His friends stood there staring at me, as I guess I had started to bleed again. I yelled something that I don't even remember, but I'm sure it was a challenge to them, if they wanted to fight let's do it. Or some silly testosterone induced comment. Their response was to stand and stare at me. I don't think they could believe I got back up from the slam to the door. My head was still throbbing and I needed to get out of there. So I told them anytime they wanted to pick this up we could do it.

Well the damage to my door was $75.00. My damage was a mild concussion and a slight cut over my left eyebrow. The other fellow didn't fair as well as me. His damage was 4 stitches to the bridge of his nose. He was questioned by a teacher and then the vice principle when he showed up with stitches and told them that he had an accident on his motorcycle. The girl who offered up her headband to me, told somebody in authority what had happened, but she didn't say who did it. I told them the same thing, that I didn't know who did it. I was asked if I was ok and sent home. The guy that wanted me to leave his girlfriend alone was never involved in either of the incidents. He stayed conveniently in the background throughout it all.

Years later, I served in the military with one of those guys, and we had a good laugh about it. He apologized for setting me up for his buddy. I told him not to worry about it and it was water under the bridge. He sure did enjoy telling that story at the enlisted club. "You should have seen this guy he was nuts, blood running down his face, big ol' knot sticking out of his forehead and here he comes with a chunk of asphalt in his hand! He took Tommy down with one swipe and we were scared shit less. He's crazy, but I'm glad he's on my side." All in all it was ok, because it gave me a little status as that crazy redneck.

So the next time you see a guy get slammed into the car door in a movie and he pops back up to beat the bad guys, just remember that's just not gonna happen. I've had a few scraps and that is one of the worst I encountered. There are others, and one day I might even share another of them.

It's that time again...What time you ask? Monday Minute time....

As I told you I've been sort of a slug as of late with posting, but real life is almost back in order and then blogging will be as well :)

For now here is the Monday Minute as it's offered up by none other than Ian over at Daily Dose...

1 - How much would you have to be paid to eat a human cadaver's finger?
Not a dime if I was stuck in the mountains like those poor bastards in that plane crash...I'd dine like it was a 5 star restaurant.. :)

2 - Describe the worst physical fight you've ever been in.
Well I don't like to think about it much because I was a bit wild in my younger days...I was once slammed into a car door and knocked pretty much out of my senses...I'll post that experience some other time, but I promise that didn't end the fight ...


3 - Name one song that if you never heard it ever again, you'd be thrilled.
Kung fu Fighting

4 - Describe the "drunkest" situation you've ever been.
There are too many to list... BUT one pretty drunk situation I remember (there are few that I totally remember) involved me awaking in a grape vineyard. I evidently passed out on the way home from a party and ended up in between two rows of grapes. I drove out of there and got home. I'm lucky I'm alive judging by some of my poor choices as a young adult.

5 - What's your biggest regret?
I have a few that are close ties. I think my biggest regret is that I got divorced and even though it ended up better for me. I always wonder how much of a negative impact it had on my son. I wasn't there to defend him like I should have been.

So now you have my lame-o answers, but you need to get over to Ian and check his out...